Hunt of the Mimics

Those monsters. Those things. They hunt in packs. Always watching. Waiting. Luring prey with those orbs on their heads. Like an angler fish in the sea. Lurking in the darkness for cover. I never thought I’d encounter something like it. I never believed in those tall tales of people encountering monsters, demons, hags, and wraiths. Big Foot or Nessy are good examples. Ghost encounters, demonic rituals, angels, hell, even skinwalkers gave me nothing but chills. All were just myths to me. Tall tales. Parents trying to scare their kids into obedience or campfire stories to frighten friends and family. Perhaps they’re from people who are trying to make sense of things in the world. Or so I thought. Now I’m questioning everything. Lies and truths, all are blurring together. What is real and what is fake are so hard to tell apart these days. Ever since I’ve met those things, I carry the burden of trauma and fear. I feel like I’m going insane. Those ‘Things’ I keep mentioning? I just started to refer to them as ‘Mimics’. You’ll see why. Let me tell you a “tall tale” of my own. Or at least I wish it was just a tall tale... 
I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, to the beat of the song that played from my phone, hooked to my car via Bluetooth. It was surprisingly catchy and upbeat for a dark night, alone in the woods. Any sane person would have just slept over at their grandmother’s house this late after visiting. But who ever said I made responsible and sane choices? I bobbed my head along to the song and watched as the trees passed by. The silhouettes of evergreens loomed above my little, rickety car. It was nothing but an old, well used, cherry red Chevy Impala. It rattled and complained as I drove down the windy dirt trail that led out of the woods, and back to civilization. 
So far, it was perfect and peaceful. The stars studded the night sky, the moon was shining down on the deep green and quiet forest, my car was barely holding together, I had good music on, and I was trying my hardest not to fall asleep at the wheel. Overall, it was rather good. I bit my lip every now and then just to keep me awake. I worked a shitty job as a receptionist at a 5-star hotel with the world’s worst hours. Staying up late was nothing new to me. Biting my lips or fingers was typically how I kept myself awake. But sometimes, I bit myself so hard that I bled. This was one of those times. I kept chewing and chewing on my lip, until the warm, metallic liquid of my blood flowed into my mouth. The pain was dull and didn’t really work on keeping me awake anymore. I lifted my right hand quickly and bit my wrist, leaving teeth marks behind as my eyes opened a little more. The pain woke me up. 
As I was driving, I felt a strange tingling sensation in my head. Like someone was tickling my brain. It made me anxious. Maybe... It’s just my exhausted state taking its toll. I blinked and sighed while driving through the woods. Glancing at my phone, I checked the battery. “7 percent,” I mumbled to myself. I stopped the music and shut off my phone, plugging it so it could charge. If anything went wrong, I wanted a way to contact someone. And then I checked my phone once more. Letting out a shaky sigh, I tapped my steering wheel as the new information repeated over and over inf my head: No. Signal.
Still alone with my thoughts and now without music, my mind raced with anxious scenarios. One of them came true: a deer darted out in front of my rickety Impala. Not wanting to hit it, I swerved and slammed on the breaks. The clanking and pinging sounds of rocks and twigs hitting my sweet, little impala filled my ears as the tires lost traction and skidded across the pine needles and dirt. I shrieked and held up my arms to protect my face, bracing myself as my car flipped and tumbled down a hill. My heart raced and pounded in my throat and head, sending shockwaves of adrenaline through my body. A cold and sharp feeling of fear clawed and ripped at my nerves as the rolling and bouncing car tossed my already exhausted body around. Metal crumpled and creaked while glass shattered and attacked my skin and threatened to strike my eyes. 
My impala slammed into a tree, stopping the continuous tumbling and jerking me around like an old, worn-down ragdoll. I took shaky breaths. I was full of adrenaline and very much awake. I collected my phone and an eight-inch switch blade before I began to work my way out of the destroyed vehicle and into the cool night air. Mustering all the strength I had left in my battered and bleeding body, I kicked the door open and hauled myself through the dirt and pine needles. My little Impala was lying flat on its roof and smoking from the front. It was dented, broken, and no longer barely holding together. I heaved shallow and unsteady breaths as I sat on the forest floor, staring at my totaled car. Eventually, the natural pain killer that was adrenaline subsided and the pain kicked in, snapping me out my state of dazed shock. My legs felt numb and stiff. I didn’t want to stand up. I wanted to sit here and wait out the night till help arrived. But help would never come unless I sought it out. 
Alone in the woods at night was a dangerous situation in itself. But injured and alone in the woods at night was a completely different level of danger. The smell of my blood could potentially attract unwanted things to me. Sitting here was just asking for something bad to happen. And that made my anxiety spike (as if it wasn’t high enough already). First thing’s first was to find a hotspot, where I could call for rescue and wait until it arrived. I slowly shifted to crawl on my hands and knees and dug around in my car. I pulled out my messenger bag and opened the glove box, finally taking note of the cuts on my arms and hands, along with the blood that trickled down and smudged everything I touched. I shoved a handful of about five glowsticks into my bag and grabbed a flashlight. I flicked it on and off. Nothing. The battery was dead. I grunted in frustration and tossed the useless flashlight into the backseat, to the annoyance of my arm. I backed up out of the car slowly, being careful of the glass shards scattered about. My hands were already bleeding and in pain. I didn’t need any more cuts and bruises. 
I slowly stood up, stumbling to my feet and using the wrecked car as support while I caught my bearings. My legs just felt stiff and shaky. Unsteady, if you will. Not much pain down there. I took a deep breath and straightened up slowly as I pulled out a glowstick and snapped it, shaking it up until all the chemicals inside were mixed together. I began my trek to the bridge that led to a paved road down the mountain. That’s where the nearest hotspot was. The silver moon was mostly covered by the whisps of clouds. It made me uneasy because now, it was darker. A light breeze caressed the evergreens and my battered body. It made my injuries more pronounced. I had no first aid kit. So, all I had to do was to just hope the smell of my blood didn’t attract anything... unwanted. Whether that be wolves, bears, or mosquitos. I felt like I was being watched. Like every one of my steps were being judged. I felt helpless. I was alone, cold, helpless, injured, and lost. The perfect prey for any predator who caught a whiff of my scent and decided that they needed a midnight snack. The breeze gently pushed me along as I stumbled around in the dark, following the dirt trail to safety. My uneven steps quickened as I felt the need to get out of here. I felt followed. I felt hunted. I felt like danger lurked around every corner and hid in every shadow. My breath kept snagging in my throat for a few seconds before I released it and held it again while stumbling through the dark with my only light source: a measly, green glowstick. The moon was unreliable thanks to the wind pushing the clouds in front of it. But at least I had something to see in the dark with. I refused to pull out my phone. I needed to save the battery on it. It was my ticket out, and I had to make sure not to lose it. 
Rustling sounds in the bushes caught my attention. I stopped walking and raised my glow stick higher to see my surroundings more clearly. My eyes scanned the area repeatedly for danger as my heart thumped in my chest. I looked over it thoroughly. But I didn't see anything in the dark besides shrubs, ferns, trees and grass. I shook my head and ruled it as my heightened nerves or some passing by critter. So, I kept moving. I needed to keep moving. I doubted I would get attacked. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t. It felt as though the atmosphere just kept getting darker and colder. 
Those uneasy feelings seemed to only grow worse. My nerves tingled and spiraled beyond my control. They made me feel queasy. Low, chittering growls came from the trees. The bushes and branches rustled. Yet, nothing could be seen. My blood froze as I realized my gut feeling was right: I was being hunted. My instincts told me to run. But my brain told me otherwise. I couldn’t stop; if I did that, I’d be a sitting duck. But running would make them chase me. So, despite how everything in my body battled over what I should do, I kept walking. The growling and chittering and hissing kept following me as I traversed the dirt path. And then... a glowing orb flickered to life in the darkness. It floated a few feet above the ground and swayed slightly. A bright yellow light. And then another. And another. Until there were four glowing orbs surrounding me. Three were blue, the first orb was yellow. “I-I-Iri-iiis,” came a whisper from one of the orbs. It sounded like.... Mom? “Iris... follow us,” came another voice. It sounded like... my best friend, Vivian. The orbs floated around me as they whispered my name and beckoned me. “Iris. It’s OK. Just follow us,” came another voice. My dad’s voice. I was intrigued, suspicious, and frightened. All of these voices were of people close to me. Mom, dad, my twin brother, Kegan, and Viv. The orbs moved closer as I stood there, watching with a flurry of emotions swirling around inside me. Like a tornado that didn’t know which direction to go. But I was curious about what they were doing here. And why they wanted me to follow them. 
I reached out to touch the yellow one, curious about it. The yellow orb that sounded like my mom lowered so I could touch it. But the orb lowered and revealed.... it. In the light was the face of some sort of... monster. It looked like an oversized bird with a large, pale-yellow beak filled with rows of sharp, jagged, yellow teeth. Its eyes were the blackest of blacks and in the shape of a stretched-out rhombus. Large, bat-like ears that were easily bigger than my hand flattened as it growled. The orb was attached to what looked like a thick, black sting. Much like an angler fish would have. 
“Hello, Iris,” It spoke in the distorted, raspy, and deep voice of my mother. My blood flowed like rivers of ice as I stared in complete horror. The clouds moved passed the moon and let its light shine down on the creature. It was hunched down and had long, slender arms with four fingers and long, scaled legs of a bird. The arms resembled that of a dinosaur but... longer. The under arms were decorated with long feathers. I screamed and backed away quickly; only to get nudged by another one of those... things. Clipping their beaks and teeth together, they kept nudging me back into the circle. I tripped over a rock and fell into the dirt and pine needles that dressed the grass, dropping my glowstick as I stared at them in what can only be described as pure terror. Then, the yellow orbed one pounced, grabbing my left arm and yanking me upwards. The pain shot through me like electricity as I let out a bloodcurdling scream. I felt my arm pop out of its socket as the bone-crushing strength of the mimic crashed down on my forearm, snapping it like a toothpick and causing me to flail and scream more. Another one latched onto my right leg and just went crazy, biting it and tearing at my flesh. This was a sign. The sign that the hunger-driven frenzy has begun. In a desperate attempt to get away, I yanked out my switchblade and slashed at the yellow orbed mimic in the eye with it. That Mimic I thought was the alpha. It screeched and let go of me. It dropped me roughly on the ground as it backed away and rubbed its face. My eyes narrowed and I slashed at the one that leeched off my right leg. It did the same thing: screeching and letting go of me as it rubbed its face and stamped its feet. The adrenaline pumped through my body again and numbed my pain, while the shock also kicked in. On whatever was left of my right leg, I scrambled to my feet and ran. I heard a horrific screech and thunderous, yet fast footsteps that soon followed after the battle cry.  
“Iris!” 
“Come back! We only want to help you!” 
“IRI-II-IS!” the leader screeched in that distorted voice of my mother. But I ran, not looking back at the things following me. I didn’t notice how much blood I was losing or how severe my injuries were. I just needed to run. To get away alive. I panted and stumbled my way through the threatening dark of the night, following the dirt path to salvation. I cried and screamed for help, even though nobody would hear me. I heard chittering and footsteps next to me. Beside me was one of the mimics. It hissed and slammed into me, sending my poor body flying, crashing and skidding into the dirt. My brain felt like it had just been made into a smoothie as did my insides. I was dizzy, nauseous, and still high as hell on adrenaline. Panting and slowly standing up, the group circled me. Another one flicked its tail at me. Stong, long, and muscular. Easily 16-ish pounds of pure muscle came crashing into my side and sent me flying into a tree. I grunted as I hit the tree and the ground soon afterwards. 
I felt my hands shaking as I attempted to stand up again. My balance was unsteady, and my limbs were shaky. I heaved breaths through my tight chest as I stared at what I thought was my demise. The mimics growled and clipped their beaks together as they stared at me, seemingly waiting for the alpha’s orders. With a hiss from the alpha, one of the subordinates lunged at me, swiping down on my body. Its claw snagged the flesh on my torso and essentially cut me open. I screamed and curled up from the sharp pain that came afterwards. It went in for another attack, but I used my switchblade to defend myself by slamming the blade into the roof of its mouth. It screeched and writhed as I held my hand there. A warm, dark liquid oozed onto my arm and hand, coating it with the stench of that familiar metallic smell of blood. 
The rest is... a blur. I remember snippets of running through the woods on this moonlit night. A trip home gone wrong. My memory comes back to the bridge. An old wooden bridge suspended above a small creek. Rickety and worn down from many years of being trodden and driven on. Around me were a few cop cars and an ambulance. The lights flashing blue and red over and over in my vision. I looked down to see myself covered in blood. My jacket and jeans were coated in large, dark, warm patches of what I assumed was my blood. The adrenaline wore off and I collapsed in pain. It suddenly dawned on me that my left arm was completely useless. It was mangled beyond recognition, and I felt dizzy, probably from blood loss. The medics scooped me into a stretcher and whisked me away to the hospital. My right arm clutched the switchblade. With the lights, I was able to see myself clearly, despite phasing in and out of consciousness. Blue. The blood... was blue. It was the blood of those things. The mimics. I don’t remember much of the ride in the ambulance, besides weakly answering questions and having unfamiliar faces hover over me. Talking to each other in medical terms I didn’t - and still don’t -understand as I watched them in vision that refused to focus on things. My family visited me, and the doctors said my motor functions won’t be the same. Neither will my looks.  
Turns out, my right leg was mangled. But salvageable. My left arm was broken and dislocated; I now have a scar running from under my left breast to my hip. It’s light pink and jagged. Like someone stretched out a long earthworm and laid it on my body. My skin was covered in the battle scars from my struggle with the pack or flock or pod of those monsters, the Mimics. Neurological damage was sustained to my arm and leg. So, I have a limp and damaged motor functions on top of everything. Plus, medical bills, rent, no car, and everything else that comes along with it. Fired from my job due to “scaring away the customers”. There is now a strike happening and employees are quitting in the masses. What a bittersweet petty revenge. That encounter with the... Group of mimics damaged more than just my physical state. My mental state has rapidly rotted away, leaving me to decay and morph into the pathetically hollow shell of the woman I once was. What was most scary about the situation was not just the fact I was face-to-face with certain death. It was how they tracked and killed their prey.  They knew your moves before you could make them. They read your mind and collected your memories. They manipulated their prey into following the lights on their heads. And then... They ate them. Tearing flesh and breaking bones. I always worried that they would find me again to finish what they started. But they couldn't possibly follow me into the city... Right? All the smells and all the sounds are different from their wooded home. All the loud noises and new smells would overwhelm them and disorient them. If they enter the city, they're either incredibly stupid or incredibly smart. 
I was wrong. Mauled bodies started popping up around the city. These corpses were so destroyed and messed up - it was hard to believe what those victims once looked like and who they once were. People who once were alive, breathing, moving and speaking humans... were now getting reduced to nothing but a pile of destroyed organs, torn skin, splotches of blood, and shattered bone. Very much dead and not breathing nor moving. They were coming. Hunting for me. They had a taste of my flesh. My warm, soft meat. And they wanted more. They wouldn't stop until they consumed every. Last. Morsel of flesh that clung to my bones. I am not safe here. Nor is everybody else that lives in this city. It won't be long before they find me. I endangered everyone here. Until I'm dead, they won't leave this city. I’m going insane, and I know it. I can’t sleep at night without having night terrors, without picturing their faces in my mind. Without being drawn back to the night I almost died. I hate being alone. Because being alone would mean they would get me. It would mean I’m defenseless and would make for an easy picking. I'm moving to Los Angeles soon. My family members are pitching in to pay for it. Kegan and his wife will be joining me. To keep an eye on me and cut expenses. Away from any forests and away from those fiends. Those heathens. I can't help but blame myself these days. After all, it was my choice. All of this happened, because I didn’t want to sleep at my grandma's house for one night....   
Category:Beings
Category:Dismemberment
Category:Nature