Lucas Ryan Versus: The Return

  “For the rest of them.”

  LEVEL 21

  CARNIVORE

  Emerging from the opening in the damaged library, I let a large breath of air out and fell to my knees. Taylor joined me on the ravaged carpet as Ripley unlocked its strong grip from our backs and floated just in front of us.

  “Well, that was a ride I’d never like to take again,” Taylor joked, half-heartedly.

  “Ripley’s speed and strength can take some time getting used to,” I coughed out, still getting my bearings after the elevator ride from Hell.

  “What’s going on, Lucas? It almost seemed like the Nest was alive. Kind of like it was feeding off all the students,” Taylor swallowed hard, steadying himself. “Almost like the underbelly of the school and its foundation were changing…growing…”

  I looked at him worried, and agreed, “Feeding.”

  Taylor nodded, “We’ve got to get back to that dance.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Ripley looked down at us, intensely.

  ~ Hurry. No time. ~

  I know. I tried to get to my feet and Taylor quickly lent me a strong arm. We stood up together and raced out of the library and into the dark hallways of the school. The lights along the ceiling were flickering lightly, as if teasing us that the power was only moments away from a blackout. Taylor and I ran faster, ignoring the new and offensive odor that seemed to be lingering along the hallways. It was rotten and sweet smelling at the same time. Like a garden of many different flowers wrapped in the clutches of decay.

  As we rounded the last corner, just out of reach of the doors of the gymnasium, we found our offensive strike cut short. Waiting in front of the doors with the widest grin was Ms. Strickland. She stood tall on her silvery high-heels and winked at us from behind the gleam of her glasses. She had just locked the doors from the outside with a large metal plate that covered the length of the double doors. It looked as if it was crinkled and crushed, like an aluminum can, and embedded into the material of the building itself. As if she had ripped the side off a shiny UFO and stuck it along the wall. The chunk of metal looked not-of-this-earth and impossibly heavy, yet she positioned it as if it were made of paper. With a cross of her arms she placed herself directly in front of us. In the background the thumping of drums and guitars tried to push themselves through the blockade as Olivia and her band continued to play, oblivious to their certain doom.

  “Ms. Strickland!” I shouted. She smiled even wider.

  “Mr. Ryan,” she cooed.

  “What are you?” I asked, without missing a beat. She started to laugh wildly, grabbing at her sides.

  “Silly rabbit…” she chuckled.

  I took a step forward, and repeated, “What are you?” She carefully slid her glasses to the end of her nose and let her smile fall away. Quickly, she blinked her smoky colored eyelids, changing the shape and hue of her silver-gray eyes. They pulled into thin slits like a reptile that glowed in a sinister emerald. Her skin along her cheekbones quivered in place, revealing a pattern of lizard-like scales, smooth and inviting.

  From behind her the muffled music fell away replaced with the haunting screams of the Homecoming crowd. It was as if everyone had been scared at the exact same time. Ms. Strickland’s eyebrow rose to attention, and she proudly sighed.

  “Ahh, it sounds as if your classmates have finally met my precious family…my brood…my offspring…” She inhaled a deep breath and continued in a low, guttural hiss, “My children.”

  Taylor immediately freaked out. “Oh, God, Mo’s in there!” He lunged forward with his hockey stick flailing above him.

  “Taylor, no!” I warned, as he leapt into the air, preparing to slam his weapon into Ms. Strickland’s forehead. At the last second she reached out in front of her, scooping Taylor from the air with one hand that tightly constricted his neck. Her grip was so strong that he instantly dropped the stick and began to grab at her wrist and fingers. The sound of him gurgling in her clutches paralyzed me for a moment. She lifted Taylor’s twitching torso twelve inches off the floor. He fought with all his strength not to pass out.

  “Enough!” I screamed. With my fist clenched, I began to power up. With too much confidence, I called out, “Ripley! Attack!”

  Ms. Strickland shifted in her stance keeping Taylor locked within her clenches. She smiled at my boldness before pulling her slick red lips into a pout, and with one puff of her mouth she spit a black wad of filth that splattered along my right hand and forearm. My magical tattoo was completely covered in the sizzling sludge and it felt like a hundred needles jabbing into my pores.

  “Nice try, Mr. Ryan, but I’m not stupid. I’ve been preparing for this moment for a long time.” She swiftly turned her attention back to Taylor who dangled before her.

  “Ripley?” I gasped, trying to ignore the pain along my arm and hand. In my head Ripley grunted as if in pain, also.

  ~ Can’t. Move. Pain. Can’t. Run. ~

  She had neutralized Ripley in one shot. I tried to wipe the burning saliva from my arm with the bottom of my shirt but it wouldn’t budge. It was hot and wet but did not respond to any kind of resistance. My confidence fell away quickly.

  ~ Run away, Lucas! ~

  I can’t. Not without the others. There has to be a way out of this.

  ~ Run, run, run, run, run… ~

  Ripley was repeating the same word over and over again like a scratched record. I couldn’t run though, at least not yet. There were too many people I cared about in danger still. Unexpectedly, Ms. Strickland broke my train of thought with her next remark.

  “Go ahead, run. It won’t matter though. This is your end, Mr. Ryan…your oblivion.” Unnaturally, her neck popped out of joint, extending upward like a cobra. Her bones inside sounded as if they were ripping apart. Her jaw unhinged itself, pushing her chin toward her chest, revealing a gaping mouth that continued to grow. A long spindly tongue shot out from the base of her throat and twisted inches from Taylor’s face. He was almost totally unconscious now. Her serpent tongue dripped with clear juices that ignited with smoke as it spilled to the floor. Her tongue slid up Taylor’s right cheek and across his nose before rolling down the left side of his face. He was completely disgusted but stuck in place and could do nothing but moan.

  “Mmm, you taste like youth,” Ms. Strickland hissed. “Should I save you for later, handsome, or just devour you now?”

  Taylor hung silently in her clutches for a few seconds before a low hysterical laugh pushed its way out of his grimaced face. Ms. Strickland adjusted her stance, confused by his laughter. It grew louder and louder with intensity until it sounded as if he were choking on a joke.

  Ms. Strickland sniffed him again before asking, “What’s so funny, boy?” Taylor stopped laughing long enough to mumble something but it was too soft to understand. She popped a few more bones in her neck, extending it closer and asked, “What did you say?”

  Taylor made direct eye contact with her and let his hands fall to his sides. With barely any oxygen in his voice, he said, “Turn around.”

  Confused and angry, Ms. Strickland clicked her large jaw shut and slowly looked over her shoulder. When her eyes didn’t see anything she turned her body around to get a better look.

  SMACK!!!

  With all the might I had in my left arm, I smashed the end of Taylor’s lucky hockey stick into her face and jaw. It shattered from the force, sending splinters of wood and athletic tape flying everywhere. The blow was more effective than I thought possible. She immediately unlatched her hand from Taylor’s throat and he fell to the ground with the broken pieces of his stick. Ms. Strickland’s neck had dislocated itself badly. It hung past her shoulder, pointing toward the floor as if her head was close to coming completely off. Her glasses dangled from her face, daring to break upon their impending impact of the school’s hallway floors. Her tight bun of blonde hair was now a tangled mess filled with streaks of black blood.

  Urgently, I tugged at Taylor’s ankles and pull
ed him away from the scene. He was so big and heavy but my adrenaline had already kicked in. He gathered himself, gasping for fresh oxygen.

  “Wow, nice shot, Luc!” he coughed.

  “Sorry about your lucky stick,” I mumbled, still watching Ms. Strickland as she fumbled in place on broken heels. My arm was still on fire with pain and Taylor quickly found his footing and stood up.

  “Never mind, she’s coming back for the next round!” he warned, with a shaky finger pointed toward her. And as if on cue, she roared with rage.

  “Lucas Ryan!” Ms. Strickland whipped her deformed body my way. Her eyes burning with hate. “So, you really want to know what I am? Are you sure you can handle the truth?”

  I swallowed a large lump down into the pit of my stomach. “Yes.”

  She snatched her crooked head in her hands and ripped it back into place. With a flick of her wrist she undid what was left of the bun of hair on her head, letting the long strands of hair fall to the sides of her face. Then, she ripped her glasses from her face and crushed them in a tight fist that peppered the floor with tiny shards of glass.

  “Well then, let me formally introduce mysssssssself,” she said, more like a snake than a human. Taylor and I took a large step back.

  “Uh, oh…” we both said, scared. We probably should have retreated right then and there, but we couldn’t. The muffled screams of our friends were still coming from the gymnasium. We had to help them. We had to stop this nightmare. Ms. Strickland began to tremble in front of us.

  “I am the carnivore!” she roared. Her body began to grow larger. She stretched from six-feet to ten-feet tall in a matter of seconds. Her clothes shredded from the force just as gray smoke escaped from her pores. Her arms and legs seemed to double in length, and her neck swayed back and forth, rhythmically.

  “I am the wicked!” She ferociously dug her fingers into her smoke covered flesh and ripped chunks of fake skin from her true form. Black and blue scales peeked from the swirling smoke.

  “I am your death!” With a whip of her head her long hair flew from her scalp and smacked into the wall behind her. She reached up and ran a long fingertip down the center of her face, cutting the flesh with a sharp claw. The right side of her face fell to the ground and her true monstrous self began to take shape.

  The mystical smoke began to roll away from her, spinning at her sides and back, but never fully disappearing. Her beastly body was slender and muscular. Every inch was covered in serpent-like scales the color of midnight. Electricity slid along her in white flashes of light. Her legs were powerful and held giant razor sharp talons at their base. Her legs were now inverted like a man-eating dinosaur. They had thorny appendages that lined the sides of her ankles, and a pair of daggers that jutted upward from the sides of her knees. Her arms were lanky and oversized, and there was now four of them. Two on each side. They mirrored each other with scaly muscles and knife-like fingers at their ends. Every knuckle was accentuated with sharp barbs that dripped with sizzling black tar. Her torso was now more snake than human, and it was covered in all different sized scales that seemed to move with her curves and locked themselves in place like a robot. Along her lower ribs were smaller appendages that resembled her main arms. At least a dozen on each side. They reached for us with the intention to shred anything in their way. Finally, emerging from her back were hundreds of serpents that snarled with hunger. They pulled outward like a giant protective umbrella of death. Above her head, below her hips, and along her arms, like demon wings. The spider-snakes moved as if they were one appendage. A deadly shell of fangs and claws. Their movement was hypnotic and almost beautiful.

  Ms. Strickland stepped forward and one of the serpents from her back bit the remaining half of her face off, spitting it at us like a dare. Her features drilled into Taylor and I like a blade. Black and red slitted eyes with greenish-purple pupils stared directly into our hearts. She no longer had a nose but a thin cut where her mouth used to be curled up along the sides of her head. Clear slime seeped from the crevice sliding along her neck and plated chest. Tiny lines of steam swirled from their wet trails.

  As horrifying and terrible as her true identity was, I wrestled with the fact that I had seen something, or someone, much like her already. I shook my hand in a fit, trying to free Ripley but it was no use. Unexpectedly, two of the larger appendages along her back shot forward, and slammed their ferocious mouths into Taylor chest, and then, mine. We fell backwards but they latched onto us quick enough to keep us from falling. The hallway started to spin with dizzying waves and I couldn’t think clearly anymore. Taylor immediately fell unconscious with his hair hanging in his face.

  With my last breath, I cringed, “I…know…who you…are…”

  Cutting me off with a metallic sounding shriek, she smiled with a mouthful of needle teeth.

  “I am their Queen.”

  LEVEL 22

  APOCALYPTIC

  Olivia:

  Lucas and the gang had been gone for over an hour now. I didn’t like it. I slowly dragged my guitar pick along the vibrating strings of my instrument. The hypnotic sound slid out the speakers and through the crowd, bringing smiles and gyrating bodies. With a press of my cherry flavored lips against my microphone, I let out a long and lonely groan. I was in the middle of playing my favorite song in the setlist and I couldn’t enjoy it one bit. I was too worried about my friends. Too scared that I hadn’t done enough to support Lucas. I cared for him as much as my sister but I hadn’t shown him it enough.

  Ignoring my doubts, I reached for the crunch of another chord on my electric guitar and continued to sing. Sophia sat on top of the furthest speaker. It was the size of a refrigerator box and her sneaker covered feet dangled down along the popping subwoofer. She swayed her arms in the air, tracing the rhythm of the music and sang along to every lyric. Just watching her in that moment helped center me. She was my rock, my calm in the storm. I loved her more than anyone else in the world.

  Morgan paced the side of the dance floor, continually checking the flickering screen of her cell phone for any update from Taylor, Lucas, and her brother, Roland. By the pout on her face, there was no news to report. She shot me a worried glance across the gymnasium. I never really had any friends besides the other girls in my band, but Morgan seemed to be growing on me. She was always there for me when Lucas and Sophia were missing. She never judged me. Never had a bad or negative thing to say to me. Yup, she was my friend. Watching her struggle with the same doubts I was having made me stop my playlist a few songs short for an early break.

  “All right, all you Homecoming angels, we’re gonna take a short break and let you crown this years king and queen,” I said, with a slight squeal through my microphone. The winged audience all cheered and clapped. “Be back in fifteen!”

  With a quick high-five slap to the girls in my band, I sat my guitar down and ran off the side of the stage. Sophia greeted me with a bottled water and a curious smirk.

  “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”

  “Don’t be silly, I’m worried about all of them,” I snapped, uneasy. She shook her head and smiled.

  “Me too, but I can see it on your face. You wish you were with Lucas,” Sophia stated, annoyingly.

  I wanted to hold onto my stubbornness but for some reason I didn’t…for once. “Yes, I do.”

  “He’s fine, Sis. He always is. He always finds a way out when he gets in trouble,” Sophia joked.

  “That’s just it, Soph, trouble always finds Lucas.” I frowned down at her, and took a small sip from my water. Just then, Morgan ran up to us.

  “It’s been too long, they’ve been gone too long. Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

  “Mo, it’s still too soon to panic, it’s only been…”

  “Twenty-seven minutes,” she stated. I let a dry lump skid down my throat. She was right, something was off.

  “Have you tried calling Taylor?” I asked.

  “No answer. His phone just goes to his vo
icemail.”

  “Text?”

  “Nothing,” she whined. Sophia glanced down at her neck and quickly tugged at a thin silver chain she had tucked under her shirt. With a smile she pulled out the chain and revealed one of her magical rings.

  “Let me try,” she whispered. Seeing her with one of the Jynshee Rings that she was told not to touch until she was older, infuriated me.

  “What are you doing with that thing?” I scolded, and tried to snatch it from her but she stepped just out of reach.

  “Hang on, O, let me try something,” Sophia argued, and wrapped a tight fist around the gleaming band. I knew instantly what she was going to do. The power of the rings and Lucas’ tattoo were connected.

  “You’re gonna try and talk to Lucas through the ring,” I said, softly.

  “Exactly,” she smiled.

  “Okay,” I gave in. Sometimes I didn’t give my little sister the credit she deserved. She was smarter than most of the kids I went to school with, and she was still in Middle school. Gently, I reached out and slid a loose patch of hair behind her ear. She blushed slightly, and closed her eyes. Seconds began to tick by, and then a full minute. Her confident smirk began to fade until it was replaced by a frown.

  “O, he’s not answering…” Sophia said, in a building panic. “Something’s wrong.”

  I pulled her next to me in a half hug and looked over at Morgan. Tears filled her eyes.

  “What if the library was a trap? What if Taylor is lying unconscious right now, or worse!” Morgan cried out.

  “Don’t say that, Mo. We need to regroup before we jump to any conclusions,” I said, with barely any confidence.

  “What should we do?” she whimpered.

  The gymnasium lights fell black leaving only one spotlight upon the center of the stage. Slowly, the new Homecoming King and Queen made their way to the bright light. They were brimming with confidence and pride. Two beautiful smiles and twinkling crowns greeted the adoring audience. As the King leaned into the microphone to address the crowd, he fell silent and still. At first we all just thought he was suffering from a massive case of stage fright, but then his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell forward, crashing to the floor as the audience screamed in shock. I grabbed Sophia by the arm and pushed ourselves to the front of the stage. Morgan followed, nervously. The Homecoming Queen covered her mouth in vain to quell her screams but it was no use. What she saw in front of her was too terrifying.