The Monster in the Tower

A 2000 word short story

It was late and Jeb was fuming.

They were at it again.

In the next block over, across the courtyard from his top floor, luxury penthouse apartment, he could hear an absolute racket. The shouting and hollering happened most weekends during lockdown, but glass smashing and alarms shrilly shrieking was new, disturbing and, quite frankly, too much.

He leapt out of bed, threw on his silk dressing gown and stomped onto the balcony.

This was supposed to be executive accommodation! What was the point in paying thousands in rent every month if you were surrounded by all sorts of scumbags? Who were these people and why were they allowed to be here? Students or something even worse! Jeb had a fair idea. Someone should put a stop to this. Either way, they didn’t belong anywhere near him, and he was done with it.

His fellow upper floor residents had various meetings about the arrivals in the other blocks. Not to mention the lower floors of their own. About the undesirables that were flocking there to stay off street level. The landlord, despite his promises, was probably so desperate for money he wouldn’t even check their vaccine certificates. God, this world was fucked!

And now, look at this, didn’t these idiots know there was a curfew?! With this infection, or plague, or whatever the clever clogs were calling it now, everyone had to be locked up quiet before 10pm so not to attract the Scrabblers. Christ! It was nearly midnight and he had work in the morning. Getting through all the check points was stressful enough without this nonsense.

Stepping out into the humid night, Jeb grimaced at the faintly feted, musky odour that seemed to hang permanently in the air now. He could see the moon glittering on the dark and winding river below, and for a moment he wished he was sailing away from here, leaving this pestilential city and its people behind as he coasted serenely through the waters for destinations unknown. Then his gaze wandered to the deserted shipyards, hulking menacingly in shadow on the other bank, full of dark places where these crazed monsters could be lying in wait, and he shivered despite the heat.

With his bluster wavering ever so slightly, Jeb broke his reverie and looked back to his “neighbours” across the way, his anger returning.

All the lights in the block seemed to be blazing. This was strictly forbidden at night! Who did these people think they were?! Why wouldn’t they behave like everyone else?! He was about to head back in and call security when something caught his eye.

In one of the lower windows his balcony looked down upon, there was a commotion.

Two figures were struggling together. Even at this distance, Jeb could see one looked bent and twisted. Misshapen from the natural order. Its skin mottled grey. Its arms long and spindly. Nails stretched to razor sharp claws.

Oh my God, he thought, fear surging. They got in. Somehow they’re not afraid of light anymore, and they got in.

The other figure seemed to be a young man who was fighting off the creature with, what looked like a lamp stand. He was struggling and Jeb knew this wouldn’t last long.

Then, staring in horror, he saw similar nightmares happening throughout the block. It was infested. Scrabblers everywhere. Yells of terror. Bodies being ripped to shreds. Brutal savagery.

Frozen by the unfolding tableau of terror in front of him, Jeb began to make a low mewling sound. His bowels loosened and piss dribbled down his leg.

It was then he saw the desperate rag tag group of people running across the courtyard towards his block. Behind them, the Scrabblers were closing fast.

For a few seconds, Jeb just stood, unable to fight through this blanket of uncontrollable fear that wrapped its heavy, smothering paralysis around him like he was being swaddled in his own cowardice.

Then, the image of the side door came to his mind. Security were based in the front reception monitoring all the feeds As far as Jeb could remember, there weren’t cameras around that other part of the building yet. The guards would have no idea what was going on. If the people fleeing these monsters could get there, someone might let them in without anyone knowing.

He grabbed his key card and ran for the hallway.

As the lift doors rattled slowly open and spewed out his shaking, uncertain form, a ruckus could already be heard from around the corner.

Jeb was confronted by a chaotic scene. Their hunted neighbours were trying to force their way in with the help of, what Jeb could only assume, lower floor residents from his own block. Meanwhile he recognised some brave souls from the upper levels fighting to force the doors closed.

Jeb quickly joined the heroic rear guard action. There was no way these interlopers could be allowed in. However as the three groups of humans struggled they began to the hear the high pitch screeching that they were all so afraid of, come closer and closer.

It wasn’t clear what happened next, but in their panic someone fell back and the door swung open. A shout of triumph from those outside soon turned to screams of terror as the swarm of Scrabblers caught up with their prey and began ripping them apart.

There was still a moment where someone could have pulled the door closed, but then it was gone.

Creatures swarmed into the building. Ripping and rending. Blood spraying. Entrails splattering.

One of them fixed Jeb with it’s burning yellow eyes and and red drool slopped onto the newly polished floor.

He knew there was no time to make it to the lift, so he slammed through the stairwell door and began hammering up the steps.

Jeb had just enough time to pray that the creature had moved on to someone else and was currently tearing them apart rather than following him, when he heard the clack of sharp nails on stone and knew he wasn’t so lucky.

He pumped his legs harder than he had ever done in the basement gym. This was life and death. All those months of cardio would pay off now.

It didn’t help he had on a pair of flimsy leather slippers that kept falling off his feet, so he kicked them away and kept going. No taking two steps at a time, just a steady running speed.

“C’mon. C’mon.” he muttered to himself as he ran.

The sound of the creature seemed to be fading but then, to his horror, he heard not one but multiple sets of claws on the stairs. That was when he decided it was actually time to leap multiple stairs and pull himself up by the hand rail. Anything to put distance between himself and the doom that was hungrily closing in.

His breath came in short, desperate gasps and the muscles in his legs were burning, but he couldn’t stop. He cursed the arrogant decision to move to such a high floor as a sign marked 11 rushed past him. Nothing could be heard above the blood pounding in his ears and he dared to look back for only a second. Yellow eyes glared back from the landing below and he wearily tried to push more speed from his exhausted body.

Finally he came to his floor and slammed into the hallway. He saw nothing and stumbled down the corridor as the door crashed open behind him, and six Scrabblers funnelled in, padding slowly, thinking they had their prey trapped. Holding out his key card like a tiny plastic rectangular Excalibur, as if to ward off monsters from fairy tales come to life, he slowly backed away towards his apartment.

Uncertain at his bravado, or just savouring the moment, the creatures took their time, not rushing, just waiting their moment.

As he reached his door, Jeb moved the card behind his back, and still not taking his eyes of his stalkers, waited for the lock to click. After what seemed like an age, he heard the familiar electronic mechanism slide open and he turned to enter.

The Scrabblers, patience gone, took that moment to charge.

There was just enough time for Jeb to dive through the opening, but as he tried to kick the door shut, one of the creatures lodged its head in the gap between door and frame and began snapping and snarling, trying to force a big enough space to get through.

Jeb, in a rage born of insanity, began screaming and pounding on the door with his left foot. Again and again and again. So suddenly had he lashed out that the Scrabbler never had time to back up. The door pounded into its weird elongated skull over and over until, with a sick crunching sound, the head burst open and purple brain chunks exploded up the wall. With a final grunt of disgust and anger, Jeb lashed out and forced the door into place.

“Fuck you!” he yelled triumphantly, then leaned over and puked on the floor.

Wiping his mouth clear of drool and sick, he staggered to his feet and leant against the gore splattered door.

Silence.

Then, just as he was letting out of a shaking sigh of relief, something slammed hard into the wood and Jeb jumped back, panting. He knew turning the dead bolt and putting the chain on would probably make no difference, but he did it anyway. Still hoping that civilization could save him from this primordial terror.

Another hammer blow and the sound of beams cracking as the frame buckled.

Jeb backed into his apartment, looking for a weapon or anything to defend himself, but his spartan surroundings didn’t lend themselves to making a last stand.

The door bent inwards again under another barrage and he knew he was out of time.

It was then he saw the balcony door lying open just as he had left it. Of course, there was no point cowering out there. If these monsters could smash through wood, then a thin glass door would be no issue, but Jeb had another idea.

Throwing off his dressing gown, he still slammed the partition closed whilst the banging and crashing continued behind him. Anything to slow them down. Even for a few precious seconds.

The wind had stilled and the night was full of screams.

He looked over the edge of his balcony at the wide, dark snake of water. The moon had disappeared behind the clouds, but he knew how far down it was. Probably too far. But maybe not. However, it would only be about a six feet leap between the far side of the building and the river. He could make that. He was sure of it. Either way, it was a chance he had to take.

As his front door crashed open and the Scrabblers finally gained entry, Jeb climbed onto the railing, using the wall for balance, his heart hammering in his chest at the sheer lunacy of this plan, and got ready to push off.

Wait! Did the river seemed farther than he thought? Was it too far?

The glass shattered in the patio door.

Too late.

He jumped.

It was going to be alright.

He was going to make it.

The river rushed towards him.

Remembering his diving lessons from school, he kept his feet pointed down and arms by his side. The wind whipped his face and blew his eyes wide open.

That’s when he saw there was something wrong with the water. It seemed to be churning in on itself. What could cause that?

Then, just before impact, Jeb realised with gut wrenching dread that it was full of Scrabblers. Hundreds of them. A broiling mass of monstrous horror.

Jeb saw one look up. It’s hungry jaws shining and its yellow eyes gleaming in the dark.

It opened its arms.

Welcoming him to where he belonged.

---

So, as I mentioned on Notes a few weeks back, we’ve recently moved into a new apartment on the banks of the Clyde. There have been some strange and scary goings on and I was wondering if that would inspire me to finally get back writing. I guess this story answers that question.

Hope you enjoyed it.

Thanks for reading. Until next time.

Photo by Tsuyoshi Kozu on Unsplash