Halloween Story Contest 2022 Entry
Warning: It has flashbacks to a murder, there is blood and death.
*
Dr. Nettie Stevens watched as the black slime, filled with unformed body parts, oozed down the drain. Down the drain. Just like her career, and probably her life. Her ignorant lab assistant used human DNA instead of Monarch DNA. And it wasn't just anyone's DNA; it was from Nettie's son. That's why Nettie was here, lying on the floor with a broken spine, dying. Once Nettie found out what happened, she couldn't kill him, not again.
Nettie observed him now, as he destroyed her lab and all her work, yet she still wasn't angry at him. She had given him life again. She never understood why she kept his DNA all these years, but now she had her answer, his exalted rebirth.
The American government had paid her millions to try to save the Monarchs. The US government had not tried to save the bumble bee and it went extinct. Then they were too slow to save the honey bee. The outcry from the world crucified the government, practically bringing food production to a complete halt without their main pollinators.
So, then they decided to save the monarchs. Monarchs. Of all the insects they could pick, they chose the monarch. Not because it was a great pollinator, but because it had a good PR campaign. Every child could identify a monarch. The government needed a glorious win they could show the voters. And she had to agree with them, the monarch was a glorious creature.
No. He was a glorious creature. A six-foot tall, muscular male human body with long black hair. Black piercing insect eyes. Huge black and orange wings hung limp and wet behind him, still drying after his recent hatching.
She hatched him first from a small egg the size of a pinhead. Then he grew into a huge larvae creature. That's the first time she knew something was wrong with the DNA. Initially, there were 12 eggs. Then, one by one the mutant creatures perished. It was heartbreaking for her, watching his death over and over again and unable to stop it. Natural selection.
But he survived, and now he was destroying the remaining three chrysalids, killing the creatures inside. All the males. He was just defending his territory, as monarchs do.
Her lab had been successful at combining monarchs and other butterfly species' DNA. The monarch's flaw was that it had only one host plant, milkweed. If they could get it to feed on other plants, they could save it. Or that was the theory.
Dr. Stevens heard the fire alarm go off and felt the water hitting her just as she lost consciousness and slipped into death. She never saw him walk out the door that the lab assistant's mutilated body propped open. Nor did she see when he made his way out of the building by bursting through the window of the lobby.
...
She woke up to a loud piercing noise. Trapped. She was trapped and had to get out. She pushed. Pushed herself out, tearing through the membrane. She collapsed to the ground. She needed to flee, flee from the sound. She crawled. Water was falling on her. She had to get away from it. She saw light and followed it. The noise continued, it hurt. She covered her ears. She crawled. Ahead was light. The warmth of the light. Her hands and knees hurt as the ground tore her body. Then she was free. Free from the sound and free from the water. She drew herself up, throwing her arms out. Escape. She ran. She needed to be safe. She ran. Creatures around her scared her. Her body hurt. Still, she ran, falling and scrambling. Her mind told her where to go. Her mind told her to run.
...
Ranger Lucas Egan locked up the visitor's center, again. Not that he minded always closing. He preferred the park at night. Ohiopyle Park was not a very busy place, even in peak season but now in October, there was rarely anyone. That was fine with him. Lately, he didn't want to be around people. People sucked.
Becky, the new cashier, had flirted with him all day, checking him out and implying they should go out for a beer after closing. He politely declined. All day. She was nice enough, friendly and pretty, and two years ago he might have taken her up on it. But after Lisa died...was killed, he had no interest. No interest in relationships, no interest in careers, no interest in life. And especially, no interest in people.
Lucas started the jeep, warming his hands on the heat vent. He headed out to check the parking lots for stragglers just as the last of the light left the sky. He had inherited his sister's jeep and everything else of hers after she died. He liked driving it, the jeep was Lisa's favorite purchase and it reminded him of her. Frowning, he glanced back into the empty trunk area. Driving it kept him grounded in the past.
He finished the last parking lot check at the waterfalls when his headlights flashed onto something pale on the ground at the edge of the dark water. He parked the jeep.
"Shit," he grabbed his flashlight. They occasionally had people drowning in the rapids, primarily drunks. He took a deep breath and stared out into the darkness.
He left his car headlight on, shining toward the water.
It was a body. He could see a pale arm, the skin torn and bruised but the rest of the body was covered with a mottled blanket. He shined the flashlight over it. No, it wasn't a blanket. He bent down for a closer look.
It was a woman's naked body, lying face down at the water's edge. What he thought was a blanket was an extensive tattoo covering her entire back and legs. He had never seen anything like it. It looked like butterfly wings. It was so realistic, that he reached out to touch it, touch her. He stroked the tattoo along her back and over her ass, his fingers lingering. She was warm and soft. Alive. She was still alive.
"Miss, are you all right?" he shined the flashlight at her head but her long black hair covered her face. Bits of twigs and leaves were stuck in her hair. She didn't move.
"Hello, I'm Ranger Egan," he pushed her hair back from her face. Her face was bloody, her lips swollen and cracked, scrapes across it all. One eye had a bruise around it.
"Fucking hell!" he swore.
His gaze dimmed and fog crept into his brain. He saw a vision of a woman on a kitchen floor, her face beaten and bloody. No! He shook his head to clear it. His eyes came back into focus.
The strange woman watched him, her black eyes following him, but she made no other movement.
"No one will fucking touch you again, do you hear me?" He took off his jacket and laid it over her. He stroked her hair, "I'll protect you. You're safe now."
He pulled out his cell phone to dial 911. No signal.
"Fuck!" the mountains around them often blocked out the signal in the valley.
"It's ok, sweetheart, we will get you to the hospital," he ran his flashlight over the rest of her body to assess her injuries.
Her arms were scraped and bruised, her fingers were bloody and her nails were broken and bleeding. Her legs were scratched and bruised and covered in mud. But her feet were in the worst shape. She must have been running barefoot through the woods. Lucas was no expert, but he thought he saw bone breaking through the skin on the bottom of her feet.
And she was naked. He looked down her bare thighs; there was no telling what other injuries she had.
"Honey, I am going to have to move you," he stroked her hair. "I'm sorry, it might hurt a bit, but I have to get you to the hospital. You'll freeze soon if I don't."
He gently rolled her over. There were no tattoos on her front, her pale skin showed every bleeding gash. She was thin, not tall, maybe just over five feet. His eyes roved over her body, she had small tight breasts with tiny nipples, guiltily his gaze continued down. Black curling hair covered her mound.
He shook his head. Jesus, what was he doing? She was broken and bloody and he was checking her out, what an asshole.
She was watching him, silent.
"I'm going to lift you, and then I'll take you straight to the hospital."
He scooped her up and easily carried her to the jeep. He placed her in the passenger side, buckled her in, and shut the door. But as soon as the door shut, her eyes widened and she brought her hand to the window and pushed at it, leaving a bloody handprint there.
"It's all right." He threw the car in drive and sped out of the park. "It won't be long. You're safe now." It seemed to calm her when he talked. She turned and looked at him. "We'll be at the hospital soon," he said.
He didn't remember driving down the mountain and into town but there he was at the local hospital. It wasn't much, just a small two-story building. He pulled up into the drop-off and ran around the car to her door.
"I'm going to carry you again, okay?" he lifted her light body and ran inside with her. No one was at the front desk.
"Hello! We need help!" he shouted down the hall. He knew where the one operating room was from the last time he was here, with Lisa, so he headed there, shouting, "Hello?"
"Ranger Egan, what is..." Dr. Gantry saw the woman and motioned him into the surgery room, "Here!" he pointed.
The doctor was soon joined by two nurses as he examined the woman. When Lucas tried to leave, she would panic, thrashing on the table, making a keening noise. They let him stay, stroking her hair and telling her it would be ok. The woman stayed still while they worked on her, but her dark black eyes followed everyone.
When Sheriff Doug Anderson arrived, he took a look at the beaten woman and then Lucas. His eyes widened. Lucas knew what he was thinking. The similarities of that night with Lisa two years ago were not lost on either of them.
"Was it...Jake?"
