THE UNSPEAKABLE HORROR!

A Trapped by Monsters story

With art by David Melling

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

As soon as I heard the scuffling outside the door, I knew this was my chance.  Monsters don’t scuffle.  They thump, stomp and squelch, but they never scuffle.  The siren hadn’t let up in several minutes.  The monsters appeared to be having trouble locating the escapee.

I eyed Blusterfart the Unsteady, my jailer.  He appeared uneasy, teetering around on one leg near the door.  It’s true that this isn’t unusual for Blusterfart, given that he only has one leg, but don’t be fooled into thinking he’s not dangerous.  You should see him hop when he’s angry!  I gathered my courage and made my move.

Launching into a run, I leapt into a flying front kick that caught Blusterfart full in the face.  With his balance less than perfect to begin with, the single kick toppled him and I landed in fixed stance, wondering why I’d never tried this before.  My jailer floundered on the floor of the cave like an upturned beetle and farted a wind crescendo that made the London Philharmonic brass section look like a bunch of amateurs.  The stench that he loosed was worse than anything he’d let rip with before.  I gagged, holding my arm across my mouth and nose to try to filter out the smell.

For a moment I felt sorry for him.  Blusterfart was so distressed that he had dropped his most prized possession, a stuffed goldfish called Sniffles, which skittered away into a corner.  The door creaked open and to my amazement I discovered not one, but four of my fellow captives crouched outside.

‘Quick!  This way!’ hissed Ali, pointing along the passageway to the right.  She was wearing a cracked pair of glasses that were glowing with an eerie light.

‘Are you sure?’ I asked, confused.  ‘That’s not the way the monsters take me when I’m allowed out to events.’

‘Ali found a map,’ Sam explained excitedly.  ‘We think we’ve found an obscure exit.  We might actually have a REAL chance of getting away this time.  I’m very, very, VERY excited.  Hee, hee, hee!’  He was hopping from one foot to the other and his grin looked almost maniacal in the strange glow.

‘And the other three?’

‘They’re being held together in one large cell,’ Andy explained.  ‘It was marked on the map.  It’s not far from here.’

‘Really?  Strange that Tommy didn’t mention being with the others when I saw him last week.’

A glance back into the cell revealed Blusterfart crawling towards Sniffles and blubbering something about making him a special pocket with a toy castle and bubbles.  It was a horrible sight.  I closed the door behind me and stumbled after the others. They were already moving on into the labyrinth in search of the remaining authors.  Two minutes later Ali stopped by a wooden door.

‘I think this is it,’ she whispered.

‘Any sign of guards?’ Baz asked.  He sounded nervous and stank of marmite.  I decided better of asking why.

‘No.’

‘The door doesn’t look that strong,’ Sam said.  ‘If we all charge it together, it might break.’

‘Why not try the handle first?’ I suggested.

‘Good idea,’ Ali agreed.  ‘Trust a pilot to think of that!’

She grabbed the handle and sure enough the door opened. A hair-raising squeal of metal on metal from the rusty hinges set my teeth on edge, as the glow of Ali’s strange glasses provided a spooky glimpse into the darkness beyond.

‘No internal handle,’ she confirmed, peering around the door.

Three pairs of eyes reflected the dim light and the bodies they belonged to began to shuffle forwards towards us.

‘Hang on a minute!’ I hissed, tensing as I realised what I was looking at.  ‘That’s not them!  I’d know Tommy’s shape anywhere.  Unless he’s been stretched, or mutilated, we’re in the wrong room.’  I stared in horror at the shambling figures approaching.  One of them moaned.  Were they zombies?  ‘Stop right there!’ I ordered.  ‘Who are you?’

‘We’re authors,’ one of them croaked.  ‘We’ve been kidnapped by monsters.  I’m Alexander Gordon Smith and these two are William Hussey and Chae Strathie.’

‘Oh, Lord, no!’ Ali breathed.  ‘It’s worse than we thought.’

Click here for Episode Six, by Tommy Donbavand

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