11. Jason
Eleven
Jason
Screams echo around me as people hurry to find safety. Stiff shoulders bump into me and I stumble forward, the world unfamiliar beneath my feet. My head whips around. Thatch roofs are on fire, and a bell tolls loudly.
My eyebrows crease. Something is wrong.
I take in the people desperate to escape. Baskets fall from the hands of women in homespun skirts, while men in patched breeches and leather shoes push carts through the chaos.
Understanding dawns on me, as impossible as it is.
I don’t know how I’m seeing this in vivid clarity, but I’m standing in the past.
Nicky has concocted something truly crazy. He told us we would see new planets, and that little bastard was right.
Spinning, I take in the center of the town. It may be different, with buildings made from clay and stone, and wooden shutters covering the windows instead of glass, but it’s still clearly the same. The town hall flashes from past to present quickly, confirming my suspicions.
I’m looking at Grimwood, only hundreds of years ago.
A riderless horse rushes past me pulling an empty carriage. The smell of burning wood and charred meat thickens the air. I cover my mouth and nose, my eyes beginning to water.
The crowd surges, pushing me forward, forcing me to move, and that’s when I see them.
Grotesque humans.
It’s as if they’ve been experimented on and it’s gone horribly wrong.
Extra eyes appear in places they shouldn’t, and bone-like spikes protrude from their backs.
Their skin has turned green and bubbly, rotting from the inside.
Nature and life itself seem to be pushing back against these creatures’ very existence.
Blights, the God whispers in my ear. These vile creatures are blights.
Disgust and horror curdle like sour milk within my stomach.
The monsters move, and creamy discharge seeps from patches of glistening green flesh while writhing parasites ooze from blackened holes.
Sickly dark veins protrude from their flesh, squirming as if something is alive.
Disease clings to their bodies, infection blooming into swollen pustules and lesions until they are walking, festering wounds.
I look around rapidly, taking in the blights infesting the area like a zombie horde.
Their limbs are bulbous and disfigured, some once-humans more transformed than others, though some don’t look human at all.
I take in a blight that seems to have mutated into another.
Its flesh balloons outwards, mottled with purple rot and toxic green pus bubbling beneath the surface.
Two malformed skulls bulge from the upper body, their jaws clacking while they hunt for their next victim.
This is fucked up.
My eyes widen as I watch them move unnaturally toward people.
They’re fast. Yet their bodies seem to be melting, their flesh sagging under the weight of all that sickness, and each wet squelch makes me shudder.
My throat tightens and I force down the urge to gag.
I want to shout for them to run, but my jaw is clenched shut. All I can do is watch.
A male villager falls to the ground, pushed over carelessly by the crowd, and a blight quickly descends on him, ready to feast on his flesh and bones.
Dread consumes me. The man screams, his mouth wide open, and the creature spews black sludge into it until he chokes to death.
My lips twist in revulsion. I want to look away, but I can’t.
See what happens. The voice is sad. The weight of the God’s grief squeezes my heart until I can barely breathe. I had no idea that this was part of Grimwood’s history. That monsters exist.
The man remains eerily still, his lips the color of coal until he convulses. Bones crack, the infection spreading rapidly, and his body turns a sickly bile-green. His inhuman noises blend into the disturbing symphony of other voices screeching as they are reborn into something terrible.
My eyelids flutter, shutting to protect myself from the sight of these horrors.
Everything blurs, nothing but screams and a sickening stench registering for me.
My breaths pound too loud in my head. A sour, putrid taste lingers on my tongue with my next inhale.
My throat spasms, and I cough while struggling to breathe.
The second I see her, nausea is gone, shattered by immediate panic.
Daisy.
I keep staring, my eyes bulging from their sockets as a blight rushes towards her. No. My body jerks hard, held back by something unseen, control fracturing as the weight of what I’m witnessing crushes my lungs.
Please, save her, I silently beg the voice. My hand trembles, everything I’ve kept locked away spilling through the cracks.
Watch, my God hisses. She’s going to die.
I can’t—I can’t control it. I can’t stop it.
I try to warn Daisy, but my voice is gone. The monster trudges closer. I can’t protect her. It hits me hard and fast—I would sacrifice anyone to save her. My mind is in a state of absolute frenzy.
Daisy looks at me, distracted by my presence, and flashes a beautiful smile. She hasn’t seen the monster. I want to yell, to tell her to run. She has the survival instincts of a fucking spoon.
A blight reaches out its hand. My mouth opens in a silent scream.
It grabs Daisy by the neck, lifting her off the ground.
Noxious fluids burst from the creature’s hand with the force of its grip, squirting and oozing down her body.
She’s still staring at me, and I don’t understand why she’s not doing anything.
Fight, run, do anything! Daisy clamps her lips tightly shut.
Sweat streaks down my face as I struggle to breathe, my chest tightening with distress, helpless to do anything but watch.
I regret not letting her in. Fear stopped me from even trying.
When she first arrived at the house, I overheard her laughing with her mom.
Before I even saw her, something about Daisy had pulled me in.
Quietly, I snuck out of my room to watch her from over the railing.
It sounds pathetic, but I swear I fell in love with Daisy right then.
Her power made me feel alive for the first time, and it scared me.
I never believed in love at first sight, but once Daisy entered my life, I was almost convinced.
And that is terrifying. How something so simple could derail my whole world.
I couldn’t let that happen, and using hate was easy.
I know what to expect if I hated someone. It allows me to remain in control.
Her body twitches as she struggles to breathe, legs kicking, and Daisy finally gasps for air.
A viscous liquid ejaculates from the creature and forces its way into her mouth, choking her with rot. It floods her throat before Daisy can even scream, and she’s dropped to the ground, crumbling like a forgotten doll.
She looks so fragile.
The vision torments me, leaving a tight, aching knot in my chest. Now I understand. I can’t stop how she makes me feel, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t care.
If I don’t save Grimwood when I return, Daisy will be infected. I’ll lose her. I can’t let that happen. Not her. Not ever. The world blurs, the ancient voice pulling me from this moment, but I don’t escape Daisy’s harrowing wail. It’s a harsh reminder of what’s at stake.