Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Come and See

Episode Date: November 8, 2021

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When the first stranger came into town, the town folks started getting sick. He was short and stocky and walked into the police station like he was thinking about buying the place. I'm looking for the sheriff. The stranger said. Deputy Furrick looked up from his magazine. Hey sheriff. He called back. There's a fella up here looking for you.

I walked out of my office. Other than the stranger, the deputy, and myself, the station was empty. Our single jail cell didn't even have a mattress on the cot. I made a mental note to talk to Furik about that. It didn't look professional when we had visitors to not even have a holding cell ready in case of a sudden crime wave. How can I help you?

I asked the visitor. Despite the cool October weather, the man was dressed in shorts and a button-down shirt that bulged a little at the gut. When I got close to him, I noticed his eyes for the first time. They were pale green and a bit gold. a color I don't think I'd ever seen before.

Those eyes were startling and stood out against an otherwise forgettable face. The other thing I noticed about the visitor was the trail of mud he'd tracked all over my clean floors. Dark footprints led from the door to where the man stood. You seem too young to be the sheriff, the stranger said. Couldn't agree more.

Ferrick chimed in, going back to his magazine. Well, you're awfully damn old to be a deputy, aren't you? I fired back at Furrick. I turned 30 a week ago, I told the stranger. People around here figured that was old enough for a sheriff, I guess. I can show you the birthday cards if you'd like. Now, can I help you? The stranger smiled.

I struggled to keep a blank face. He had the worst teeth I'd ever seen. They were crooked as a mountain road and blacker than a coal miner's lung. Chunks of food were trapped in the spaces between his molars and canines. His reeking breath crashed into me despite the ten steps between us. Sheriff, I'd like to report a crime, the stranger said. Go ahead. Well, I think I just killed about six or seven people.

The disgusting smile again. I had my hand thumbed through my belt, casual, comfortable, but close enough to my sidearm, that I could dry it if the stranger really was dangerous. If this is a joke, I told the man. Nobody's laughing. I heard Furrick's chair squeak behind me. The man might be older than God, but there wasn't anybody else in town I'd rather have watching my back.

The stranger only smiled wider and held out his wrists. I'm afraid I'm serious. Are you going to arrest me now? Hey, deputy? Furrick stood up and walked over to stand between me and the stranger. Yeah, boss. Could you go grab a mattress for the holding cell? Furrick was getting the stranger settled in the jail cell when I got the call.

Dr. Summers started talking before I had the chance to say hello. The doc said, I glanced at the chubby man in the cell. He'd slipped his shoes off and was resting his dirty souls on the clean bed sheets. I'm already having a weird night, I told Summers. Any chance this can hold until morning? The stranger was staring at me now, smiling his little ruin of a smile. He took a deep breath. What's going on? And how can I help?

I could hear raised voices in the background of Summer's call, then a loud beeping. All right, Doc. I'm heading over now. I hung up and grabbed my jacket from the wall. The stranger followed me with his bright eyes. Come and see, he said. What was that? The man was already turned away from me on his cot, looking as comfortable as a rat in a dumpster. I'm heading over to the hospital, I told Furrick.

Could you clean up the floor while I'm out? Our guest tracked in half the mud in the county. The deputy sighed. Am I a sworn peace officer or a glorified janitor, I wonder? My dad told me to be an architect. I should have listened. I ignored the old man's griping and walked out of the station, giving the stranger's trail a wide berth.

I wasn't sure what the guy tracked in, but it was clearly more than mud. For one thing, the tracks smelled almost as bad as the man's breath. For another, the material. the material was too pale to be mud, tinged green, and, while I didn't lean down to confirm it, I could have sworn I saw small things squirming around in the filth. The hospital was like an ant colony that somebody knocked off a shelf. Doctors and nurses zipped through the halls. Everyone was in a rush.

Like most of the town, the hospital was small and understaffed. Even in all of the commotion, it was easy to find summers frowning over a clipboard at one of the nurses' stations. He was middle-aged, thin, and quick with graying hair and a bird beak of a nose. I'd never seen him look worried before, but he was clearly rattled. Hey, Sheriff, he said, not looking up from his charts. Can you help the orderlies wrangle some of the family members? What's going on? Summers finally met my eye.

I don't know. Something infectious. Something I've never seen before. It's bad, Tony, and it's fast. It was one of the longest nights of my life trying to help me. I pieced together the full story from overheard conversations in the hall. There were seven patients all moved into quarantine. Four were residents of the town who were eating or working at the diner.

Something went really ugly in there, apparently, and they all rushed to the hospital. Most were still able to move on their own and drove themselves, but they did call an ambulance for the waitress, Shannon. I knew her pretty well. We went to prom together. Four people from the first from the room. diner, two paramedics, and the seventh victim was the nurse that admitted everyone and started the exams before Summers could get there. On Summer's arrival, he recognized that something

was wrong from the start. He was the one who triggered a quarantine. Jesus Christ, I whispered, standing next to Summers outside of the quarantine rooms. This all happened tonight? Summers glanced at his watch. Just under three hours since the first group, reported experiencing symptoms. The The room was isolated behind clear but thick slabs of plastic. For a small hospital, we were lucky enough to be a modern one, and I knew Summers was proud of his quarantine rooms, even if he hoped we never had to use them. But we needed them that night.

All seven of the infected were in the main observation room and strapped down. A few doctors and nurses, covered head to toe in PPE, moved between the beds. Angry red boils and deep bruises covered all seven patients to varying degrees. The four from the diner were in the worst shape. I barely recognized Shannon. Her dark hair was falling out in clumps,

and her throat was so swollen that I worried it would burst. There was something wrong with her skin, too. It was loose, like the tissue that held flesh and bone together was beginning to weaken or dissolve. I watched a doctor press gloved fingers to Shannon's wrist to check her pulse. When he pulled his hand back,

a wet chunk of skin came with it. Three hours, I whispered. It appears to be bacterial, Summer said, and obviously contagious. I don't think airborne, thankfully. It actually seems to be limited to direct physical contact. At least, I hope so. But it's faster than anything I've ever heard of, not to mention, the symptoms are a hodgepodge of bubonic and septicemic. And a sickness like this shouldn't exist, Tony.

I'm sorry, I wish I had more answers. Shit, it's like they're practically melting. I turned to Summers. Look, Doc, I don't mean to tell you your business, but this situation seems like it warrants bringing in the government, right? Asmat types, National Guard, we need to throw everything at this. I've been trying to reach the Centers for Disease Control since we moved them into quarantine. Any luck?

Do you know anyone who lives outside of Maryland? Summers asked. Even just outside of town? I've got a cousin out in Pennsylvania. Kevin, could you try calling them for me? Do I have to? I asked. He's a bit of a jackass, and it seems like we've got more important. Humor me, please. I shrugged and pulled out my phone. When I tried calling my cousin, it failed to connect. That's strange, I said, trying again. I've got a signal, but can't complete the call. Summer's nodded. Yeah, that's been my experience too.

I've tried a dozen times at several agencies, and more than a few times just calling my mom over in Chestertown. All end the same way, no connection. Funny thing is, he pulled out his phone and pressed the call button. My phone began to vibrate. Calls made within town still work just fine. Huh, was all I could think to say. Peculiar. You've tried a few times, he said.

The doctor nodded. All right, I guess there's not much more I can do here. I'll take a drive outside of town. and see if I can get a call through. Be careful. Always. Oh, Doc, I know you've got more than enough going on here. But there's a fella in the holding cell.

I think he might be tied up in this mess. Can you check him out? Make sure he's not shedding germs all over my station. Lee can fill you in more once you get there. Summer's nodded and I headed out. Lazzang sur-gillet, power and put on 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo.

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It was getting colder outside, but I still drove with the window down. I needed the fresh air after the hospital. If they made candles that captured the smell of those places, it'd be heavy on bleach. There was no traffic as I headed towards the town's limits.

The road was lined with trees, and they were covered in dying leaves. They went by in a yellow-orange rush as my headlights passed over them. It was cloudy and threatening to rain. As I continued to drive, I just could not shake the image of Shannon, gasping for air in her bed, no matter how hard I tried. My mind went back to the stranger. the man who claimed to have killed a half dozen people or more. It seemed like a hell of a coincidence for him to say that

the same night people got sick. He was dangerous. I pulled up the receiver on the cruiser's radio and called back to the station. Dispatch. This is car two calling in. Over? I said. Pool hall. Eight ball speaking. Lee replied.

Hey, deputy, not to alarm you or nothing, but how is our guests doing? Sleeping sound is a tick on a hound, looks like. When we arrested him, you didn't touch the guy, did you? I asked. I don't believe so. I just showed him to the cell. Okay, well, in case it comes up before I get back, don't touch him. Lees snorted. I'm not going to hurt him, sheriff?

No, I mean, don't physically touch him at all. I was just at the hospital end. Uh, the guy might be sick. There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then I heard the distinct sound of Furik spraying Lysol. Roger that. I'll keep my distance, he promised. Okay, I should be back in an hour or two, over and out. I hung up. Jazz music sounded out from the cruiser's stereo. The chilly air came in through the window, smelling like woods and rain. It would be a fine night for a drive,

if not for the nightmare back at the hospital. I came up on town limits, crossed over, then got ready to try to dial my cousin again. Just to be extra sure, I'd I rode out another three miles down the highway, or that was my plan. Instead, barely a mile past the line that marked the edge of town, my cruiser's engine began to whine. After another hundred yards, there was knocking under the hood, and the power steering went out. I crawled to a stop as the engine died.

No amount of key turning or cursing could get the ignition to restart. Damn it! I said, hitting the steering wheel. We never should have gotten rid of horses. I got out of the car to open the hood, clicking on a flashlight as I went. My proficiency with cars was limited to mainly oil and tire changes. But I figured I might be able to spot something wrong with the engine if it was obvious. Some hoses unplugged maybe.

Or a gremlin beating the shit out of the manifold with a tiny wrench. Everything seemed to be in the right place, so I closed the hood with a bang. It was looking like I needed a rescue. Leaning through the still-open driver-side window, I grabbed the radio again and attempted to contact Deputy Furrick, nothing but static. I tried two more times but got the same result. After the radio failed, I pulled out my cell. There was no signal, no way to make a call.

The hell? I muttered. Coverage could be spotty out in the country, but I'd never encountered a complete dead zone only a mile or so out of town. I was debating whether I would need to walk back to the station when I heard a low growl from the woods. When I turned towards the noise, I felt my stomach dropped to my boots. I'd seen wolves before at the zoo, but the creature that was watching me from the tree line looked damn near as big as a horse.

It stood in the moonlit shadows, shoulders at least five feet off the ground. The animal's fur was a stony gray, torn here and there, and covered in dirt. One of its massive ears drooped low, almost torn from the root. Its yellow-orange eyes caught my flashlight and reflected back at me. The wolf stepped out, fully onto the road, and growled again. Good kitty, I whispered. I held my left arm out in a calming motion, while my right hand drifted slowly, casually, towards the handgun on my hip.

The wolf crouched low and showed its teeth. There was motion from the other side of the road. A buck emerged from the trees, like the wolf, It was bigger than it had any right to be. The animal was twice as tall as I was. Its hide scarred and muddy. A great crown of half-shattered antlers twisted up above its head. They looked sharp.

Other animals began moving around in the woods around me. I thought I saw more deer, maybe another wolf, and a hulking shadow so big it was either a bear or somebody's tool shed had figured out how to walk. All of the creatures I spotted looked hardly healthier than road king. but I was sure they were still dangerous. I don't think you're real, I said. Hand, now firmly on the grip of my Smith and Wesson.

It was chambered with 9mm bullets, which is usually plenty. But given the size of the wildlife surrounding me, I would have felt more comfortable with an elephant gun or a howitzer. The wolf stopped closer. I took a step back. The creatures all stopped moving. Confused, I took another step back. The animals retreated a short distance.

Huh, I said, deciding to try an experiment. I took a step forward. The wolf growled and the buck lowered its head. A step back, the two animals relaxed. It seemed like I was allowed to retreat, but not advance. The creatures were hurting me back to town. Well, I was heading that direction anyway, I said. I started walking back, but stopped to open the trunk of the cruiser.

There was a lot of gear inside. I pulled out the 12-gauge and a sleeve. of shells. Just in case any of you decide to get fresh, I told the animals, slinging the shotgun over my shoulder. The creatures simply stood there on the road and among the trees in silence. They watched me leave. I couldn't resist the urge to peek back over my shoulder every three steps. As I retreated, the wildlife did the same. Between my flashlight and the moon, I had a good bit of light. The wind was starting to call clouds in, though, and they promised a storm on the way. Every so often, I'd look back for signs of pursuit, but saw none.

I pulled out my phone and tried to call Furrick. On my third attempt, I actually got through, Lee asked. I'm just having a long night. The cruiser died on me. Can you come pick me up? I'm... I lowered the phone and looked around. Uh, looks like right at the town line,

standing in the middle of the highway like a jackass. You can't miss me. Furik promised. The second stranger came into town the next morning. He arrived in an old, red, beat to hell, four to pick up. I didn't witness the man's arrival. I was sleeping off the weirdness from the night before. The first I learned of the visitor was when Lee's call woke me up.

Yeah, I know. I was there. No, Lee said, sighing. I rubbed at my face and tried to convince myself I was still sleeping. When that didn't work, I got up from bed. On my way. Furik filled me in when I got to the station. According to witness reports, the red truck came into town a little after Dawn driving erratically. The Ford rear-ended John Peter's truck as he was passing through an intersection, causing his vehicle to strike Robbie Smith's Impala.

A few folks saw the crash and the violence that came after. John is an oak tree of a man, 6'4, and a lifelong contractor capable of throwing around bags of cement like they were pillows. But he's one of the gentlest men I ever met, so I struggled to understand what. witnesses swore that he came out of his truck and charged at Robbie Smith. He was only 17 and a nice kid. He had no chance against John Peters, who scooped him up in one hand and went to wailing on him without a word. Folks tried to intervene, but only got a taste of John's knuckles for their troubles. This was enough of a distraction for a badly bruised Robbie Smith to pull a penknife out of his pocket and jam it into John's thick neck. This apparently made John even.

angrier. He lifted Robbie high and slammed him onto the road. Then he put his boots into the kid. All the while, John was bleeding out like a stuck pig from the pen. By the time John finally collapsed from blood loss, Robbie Smith was a wet smear on the asphalt. Both died before they could reach the hospital. All the while, the stranger who caused the accident just sat in his truck and watched. He was watching again from the prison cell as Furrick told me the story. Dr. Summers had come by the night before and examined the first stranger. Though he didn't find any signs of infection, Summers had the short man quarantined at the hospital and had the holding cell deep cleaned, just in case. This new visitor was locked up there now. I placed his age somewhere north of 60.

He had gray hair and a similar beard. It was messy, shot through with black here and there. Despite his age, the man's shoulders and arms bulged in his flannel shirt. I figured he was a retired bodybuilder or some kind of serious weightlifter. Why am I under arrest? The old man asked as I approached. Witnesses said that you caused a nasty accident this morning, I replied. And then, after John Peters was done stomping on Robbie Smith, and they both fell unconscious, you got out of your truck and started to clap and smile and dance. The stranger smiled with perfect teeth. Is being happy a crime? Well, no, I guess not. The accident part is, though, reckless driving, that.

And there is something deeply wrong going on here, and I feel in my gut you are connected. Your gut? Very professional. I'd like to call my lawyer. Sure, as long as they live in town. Seems we can't get a hold of anybody else. The old man smiled wider and laid back on the cot. I felt a flash of anger at his attitude. Maybe if I dragged him out of the cell and grabbed a baton, I could wipe. That smile. Sheriff? I turned around to find Summers standing next to Furrick. Both of them were watching me.

I realized that my fists were clenched. What's up, Doc? I asked. They're dead. Oh, hell. Yeah, Lee told me. I don't know what could have gotten into John. I'm sure as hell surprised Robbie even carried a knife.

The doctor was shaking his head. No, not just the two from this morning. Everyone who was sick last night. I'm sorry. Nobody made it much past dawn. I sat back on the desk behind me, legs, suddenly feeling light. Shannon? I asked. I'm sorry. They're all gone.

What the hell is going on here? Lee whispered. I don't know, Summers replied. But we need help. I tried, Doc. Last night I drove out of town, but the cruiser died on me. And there were some animals. I drummed my fingers on the handle of my gun. There's something wicked going on, something unnatural. I agree. I'm going to try to make it out of town.

I think I'll have a better shot during the day. Doc, I don't know about that. He shrugged. Do you have a better idea? I have to try. If something stops me, I'll call you to come get me. Okay, Lee and I will keep an ear out. Summer's turn to leave. Wait, before you go, I'd feel better if you had these.

I went to my desk and opened a drawer. Inside was my backup radio, as well as a small 38 I sometimes wore on an ankle rig. I handed Summers the radio and the revolver. I'm more likely to blow my own foot off than successfully defend myself, he said. Well, yeah, be careful. Radios can be dangerous like that. I grinned. Take care, Doc. After he was gone, Furik and I sat down in the break room over a pot of coffee. I hadn't finished my second mug before somebody started banging on the door. Maybe it's good news? Ferk said.

Yeah, they're busting down the door to tell us that we're doing a great job. We got up and headed to the front of the office. The stranger was sitting cross-legged on his cot, smiling faintly. Thud, thud, thud. I was glad I'd lock the door after Summers left. The plan was to give Lee and I a minute to collect ourselves. But now it seems like we were under siege. As we approached the ruckus, Furrick headed off to the side to pull a shotgun from the case.

I stopped in front of the door, just in time to hear another drum of knocks. Thumb, I glanced at Lee. He nodded. I nodded back and unlocked the door. Then I opened it quickly, pushing out onto the porch so fast that the crowd gathered there had to take a step back. Can I help you? I asked. trying to sound sheriffy. There were at least 20 men and women standing outside of the station.

I recognized all of them, Doug from the auto body shop, my dentist, Dr. Carr, Marissa Walter, and Gordon Mays, and Tom Black, and Judy LaFair and more. It was the same folks I might pass any given Saturday while grocery shopping, my town, my neighbors. But they didn't look much like friends that morning standing there on the porch, spilling out onto the street. Anger came off of them like heat from a radiator.

Some of them were armed. It was mostly baseball bats and pry bars, but I noticed a few firearms tucked in waistbands. We're here for the men in the jail cell, Tom said. The strangers. Were you elected head of the mob then, Tom? I asked. Tony, I understand you got a job to do,

but something sick is going on, something evil. Have you tried reaching anyone outside of town? Have you tried leaving? I know, I said softly. But this ain't the way we do things. There will be a trial, and how's there going to be a trial if we can't take them up the county to the courthouse? Marissa asked. I haven't sorted that part out yet, I admitted.

I'm not even sure what crimes they'll be charged with, but I agree that something not natural is happening to the town. We're all going to keep calm and put our heads together and sort things out. Or we can hang them. Dr. Carr suggested. He was met with growls of approval. The crowd was twitchy, never still. I noticed I was grinding my teeth and took a breath. Not going down that way, I said.

Everybody should go home. Now. Gordon took a step towards the porch. You can't stop us, Tony. We could go in there right now and drag those two men out on the street and you couldn't stop us. That's so?

I asked, teeth grinding again. I consider. telling the mob that there was only one stranger in lockup at the moment, but then they might decide to go harass the hospital, too. It was better to keep them here, to diffuse the situation. Are you going to move, Sheriff, or do we need to move you? Tom asked. I was leaning against a post, thumbs hooked in my belt. It took everything I had not to jump down and pistol whip Tom. Go home, I told the crowd. We don't even know for sure what's going on. Something evil, Marissa shouted.

We all feel it, Sheriff. Those men that came here, they brought terrible things with them. Don't you feel it too? I did. I couldn't explain it, but I knew there was something deeply wrong with the two strangers. They set off an internal alarm system, one that was buried deep in my lizard brain. The men represented primal danger, disease, and violence. I knew it as well as the mob did, but I'd be damned if I was going to let them decide

how the law is leveled in my town. Move, Tony, Dr. Carr said. We're not asking again. The crowd began to mill about, restless, about to burst. I heard the distinct chachot of Lee racking a shell into the 12-gauge. God, I love the old man. There was nobody I'd rather have watching my back. The sound of the shotgun caused a few people in the crowd to step back.

However, more folks actually stepped forward. Some were practically snarling. I felt my own lips wanting to pull back, to show teeth, to remind the town who was the law here. How dare these people come to my door and threaten me? I was seething, but so was everybody else. You could almost smell the blood in the air. I shifted to my left to give Furrick a clear line of sight. Then I started picking my targets.

Tom had a big, flashy 357 tucked into the waistband of his jeans. I'd drop him first right after my draw. Then I'd open fire on anyone who, what was I doing? The thought hit me like cold water. This wasn't a lynch mob. These were my neighbors, my dentist, the guy who fixed my truck, my friends. I was ready to kill them. I held my hands up.

Is everyone angry? I asked. You're goddamn right, Tom growled. Now get out of her way. Does it feel like your anger or somebody else's? My question did more to disquiet the crowd than Lee's shotgun. I saw confusion ripple across faces followed by concern, even shame. I kept going while I still had some momentum.

Marissa, I saw you cry for nearly a full day that time you ran over a raccoon outside of town. Do you really want to kill somebody? Are you going to kill me if I don't move? Her mouth opened, but she couldn't seem to find any words. I turned to Dr. Carr. Doc, you've been my dentist since I was a kid. I used to mow your lawn, and Mrs. Carr would sit on the porch and drink iced tea with me after. You're one of the kindest men I know.

Are you a killer? He looked at the ground. I get what you're saying, Sheriff, Tom said. But the strangers are doing something to our town, something vile. We have to do something. Yes, I know, but not this, I said. Let's all. Let's take a step.

Step back and catch our breath. Then we can have a meeting later tonight. Have about eight over at Town Hall. We'll talk this out. We'll figure out a way to get help. There was still tension in the crowd, but they began to walk away in ones and twos and small groups. Tom was one of the last to go.

I hope you know what you're doing, he said. I'm trying, Tom. We'll get through this. After the mob left, I instructed Furrick to bolt the door just in case and sit with the prisoner. I planned on heading over to watch the other stranger at the hospital in case anyone got wind he was over there.

But first, I needed to check on Dr. Summers. He hadn't called back on his radio for us to come collect him, which meant that he either made it out of town or he was in trouble. The drive to town limits was short. It was turning out to be a gorgeous day. The October sun was soft and warm, but there was a fine chill in the breeze. leaves fell like rain as I drove, brushing against the windshield of my truck in a riot of orange,

brown, and red. As soon as I began crossing the town line, my engine began protesting just like the night before. After a few minutes, I caught sight of my parked cruiser from the other day. Summer's Jeep was on the side of the road next to it. Oh God, please know, I whispered when I saw the body between the vehicles. I parked my truck before it died on me. The engine sounded sick, but it was still running. I ran the rest of the quarter mile or so to where Dr. Summers was curled on the road.

There was blood everywhere, splattered on the ground, and even splashed on the side of his Jeep. He'd been torn to pieces, one arm dangling by not much more than the skin. Summer's throat was a red hole and something had chewed on his face. He held my revolver in his right hand and the radio in his left. neither had done him any good. I scanned the woods for signs of his killers. There was rustling all around me, breaking twigs and other forest sounds. The animals were there, watching me, waiting.

I lifted Summer's body and put him out on my shoulder. I'll be back for you all. I shouted to the trees. I promise, one day, I'll make the lot of you into fucking rugs. It was a long walk back to my truck, carrying my friend. The engine failed to turn the first few times I tried the ignition, and thankfully it caught on the fourth attempt. Once I drove back over the town line, the truck began to run fine. I took Summers directly to the hospital, then went back to the station, and opened a bottle of whiskey I had stashed in my desk.

Tough day? The old stranger asked from the jail cell. Fuck off, I replied, taking a swig and passing the bottle to Lee. Why the hell are you here anyway? The prisoner smiled. Come and see. Pardon? The stranger ignored me.

It was 11 in the morning. We had a whole day to kill before the town meeting. I wish I'd suggested making it earlier. Hey, Lee, I asked. Yeah. Feel like a game of chess? The final two strangers came in with the storm. It was early in the afternoon,

and I was drinking spiked coffee, while Lee kicked my ass in game after game. of chess. Hard pellets of rain began tapping at the windows, loud enough to get my attention. I got up and went to look outside. Did the weather take a turn? Furrick asked. It took me a moment to stammer out a reply. Come and see. The sky was black, not stormy dark, but black. Green whips of lightning threaded between clouds and the ground. The rain was falling so hard that it was nearly a solid curtain. There was a sound like coins dropping. Hale was pinging off buildings and cars.

Thunder boomed and briefly covered the shrieking wind. Through the darkness, I saw a green light. It was a woman walking down Main Street. Even with the storm I could see her clearly. She was that bright. The woman was naked and so emaciated that every knob of her spine stood out like a mountain. Her flesh was pale and stretched tied over a narrow rib cage, While her body was a withered ruin, the stranger's face was so beautiful it made me want to weep,

or to throw open the door and run into her arms, even though just looking at her made me feel weak and hungry. It was what followed the woman that kept me cowering inside the station. The figure was as tall as the telephone poles that lined the road. Where the thin woman was bright, the creature behind her was absolute darkness, a shadow that swallowed the light. It was shaped like a human, though its form drifted like ink and water. Inside of the great shadow there were stars, billions of them. They burned blue-white and floated and shifted in perfect constellations. I'd never seen anything that was so gorgeous while, at the same time, leaving me feeling broken and terrified. And when he had opened the fourth seal,

I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see, and I looked, and beheld a pale horse. And his name that sat on him was death, and hell followed with him. Lee whispered, and power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth. I glanced at the deputy, but before I could ask him what the hell he was talking about, I heard the screeching of metal. We both turned toward the jail cell.

The old man had pulled the bars open and was stepping through the gap casually, like he was out for a stroll. This is the weirdest goddamn day, I whispered, drawing my handgun. Furrick had his weapon out as well. Both of us aimed at the stranger. The thing smiled at us.

Get back in your cell, I said, in towards us. Stopper will shoot! I yelled. The stranger didn't stop. I opened fire followed immediately by Lee. Shooting a handgun in a small space is a jarring experience. It was painfully loud and involved a lot of smoke.

I could taste the cordite in the air. The stranger stumbled under the barrage but didn't drop. I kept shooting until my gun clicked empty. Lee did the same. That was 17 rounds each, and, judging by the bloody rags that used to be the stranger's shirt, we were both on target. Somehow, though, the creature kept walking.

He passed right between us. I was shell-shocked. The stranger shouldn't be breathing, much less waltzing out of the station into the storm. Lee was the first to shake himself into action. He headed over to the gun rack while I stared aimlessly at the open door. We have to follow him, Sheriff. Forick said, pressing a shotgun into my arms. Is this the end of the world?

I asked the deputy. Are we dead and in hell? He grinned. Not yet. The wind and rain lashed at us as we pursued the old man into the storm. I could barely track his shadow in between flashes of lightning. The bolts were sickly green, poisoned veins, stitched through the thunderheads above. There was no sign of the emaciated woman or the shadow creature.

I pulled my jacket's collar up, but the cold water came through it like it was tissue. I think he's headed towards the hospital. Forick shouted over the wind. I nodded and pressed on, each step harder than the last. By the time we stumbled through the hospital door into the lobby, I was soaked, frozen, and terror. Lee, by contrast, looked calm and strangely dry. He was already moving while I was hunched over, catching back the breath the wind stole.

The electricity was out, and the hospital was dark. Lee flicked on the flashlight under the muzzle of his shotgun. I did the same. We moved through the lobby quietly, sweeping our lights across every corner and doorway. The building appeared deserted, which made no sense at all. Even with the power out, doctors and nurses wouldn't just abandon their patients. And why the hell wasn't the backup generator kicking on? Lee found the first

body slumped in the stairwell. She was a nurse, at least I assumed so, based on her scrubs. The woman's body was hardly more than a skeleton wrapped in skin. More bodies followed, doctors and nurses and patients and other staff. Some were like the first, withered away, like they'd starve to death. Others looked like the sick folks from the dinner the night before. Their skin drift off of their frames, and great sores leaked pus on the floor. Still others showed the signs of violence, broken limbs, torn faces, cuts, and bruises. There were dozens of dead choking off every hallway, puddles of blood, and filth, threatening my steps every few yards.

It was a massacre, I whispered. And then we had opened the fifth seal. I saw under the altar the souls of them that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held. Furrick replied. I didn't know you were religiously, I said. That's the Bible, right? Yes, the book of revelations.

And I guess I am a bit religious, Tony. I get it from my father. It's so hard for me to picture you as a kid. Christ, Lee. I'm a little rattled here. Furrick patted me on my shoulder. Stay steady, Tony. It's almost over.

We made our way down the corridor stepping over body. There was a light on up ahead in the quarantine wing. Lee covered me with his 12-gauge as I opened the door. The main quarantine room was bright under harsh, fluorescent lights. All four strangers sat on hospital beds in each corner. A pile of limbs and heads and torso sat in the middle of the space. Blood steadily flowed down into a central drain. Hey, Sheriff.

The first stranger said. He was wearing a stained hospital gown, his entire body looking like one giant brown and purple bruise. The old man who'd just escaped the jail sat nearby. In the opposite corner, the shriveled woman grinned at us. I tried not to look directly at the fourth visitor. Everything around it was dark, a shadow smudge taking nearly a quarter of the room. Out of the side of my eye, I caught that swirl of miniature stars moving across its form.

It projected a clean, cold feeling. The funny thing was, whenever I did happen to look at the stranger, I almost felt a twinge of calm. For some reason, unlike the other three, I got the impression the fourth visitor wasn't eager to be in town. I pointed the shotgun at the first stranger. I need you to tell me what the fuck is going on in my town. Then, I'm probably going to shoot you. He's so charming, the shriveled woman rasp. I'm certainly ready to spill my guts.

the muscular old man replied. No need to shoot anybody, Lee said, stepping next to me. I was just about to ask for a report. Why don't you come and see? I turned to the deputy. What did you say? He was looking past me at the first stranger. White horse. What is your count?

Lee asked. 89, short man replied. Lee nodded, then chewed at his lip. Town population was 4,657. before the four of you arrived. Hey, Sheriff, what percent is 89 out of that total number? I have no fucking clue, I responded. What is going on, Deputy?

Hold on, Tony. Just wait. Okay, 89 is 1.9% give or take. Not bad, Red Horse. Lee said, looking to the second visitor. What is your tally? 18. The old man said, sounding disappointed. That's 0.39%.

Furik calculated. That's lower than expected, but not so terrible. How about you, Black Horse? He asked the woman. She grinned, showing rotted teeth and receding gums. 200 on the nose. About 4.3%. Lee said with a low whistle.

That's quality work. The deputy looked at the corner where the fourth stranger stood in darkness. That's 307 total, Pale Horse, Lee said. All told, about 6.6%. of the town's population died in two days. Good enough for government work, huh? The starry thing didn't reply. I looked around the room from each stranger to my old deputy. He was grinning like a proud dad after their kid kicked the winning goal. Lee, do you have something to do with all of this? I asked, turning towards him. Shotguns still in hand. What happened here? A test drive,

Ferrick replied, smiling wider. A little trial run for the end of days. A hometown of Apocalypse. Wasn't it grand? Who are you? I demanded, raising the 12 gauge. Lees grin dropped. I'll show you. His face changed only for an instant, but that moment will stay with me and my nightmares for the rest of my life. The wrinkled features of my friend pulled tight. His watery eyes changed to raw black sockets. His appearance became beastlike and cruel. In Lee's face, I saw hate, a loathing so ancient, it was older than the rock. and the ocean and the sky. I shook in the presence of his animosity. Then Lee's face was back to normal. The familiar grin, the laughing eyes. At some point, I'd fallen to my knees. He offered me his hand to get up. I scrambled away. Easy, Tony, Lee said, laughing. Easy. Didn't mean to scare you.

What are you? I whispered. I gave you all the clues, all of you. He replied. I've been here in town for so, so long, and nobody ever put it together. What is my name? Lee. Lee what? Lee Furrick, I said, still confused, still shaking. Deputy Lee Furrick, he chuckled. Lee Furik.

Play with the letters. Move them around. Who am I? The deputy watched me as I looked back. I mind blank. He sighed. I'll help you out. L-U-C-I. L-U-C-I?

I stuttered. Good boy, it was a struggle, but we got there. My deputy, my friend, was claiming to be the devil. Wait, Lee Furrick, that's, there's an extra E! Well, I said I gave you clues. Not that I was going to make it easy on you, I cheated, just a little. You brought all of this to town? All of them?

I pointed towards the first stranger. All of this death? All of this suffering? Why? Lee shrugged. Honestly, it was just bad luck. I mean, bad luck for you. I've had a great time.

This was an excellent test run. 6.6% fatalities in only two days? Once all seven seals actually break, I bet we can get that closer to 5% per day. Those will be fantastic numbers on a global. level scale, don't you think, pale horse? The silhouette didn't respond. It still stood watching us, cold stars floating across its ink-black form. Lee snorted, then gave me a wink. It's been fun, Tony. I'm sure I'll be seeing you sooner than you'd like.

Furrick and the first three strangers were gone. I never saw any of them move. They were there one moment, and then, in the next, the room was empty, except for me and the fourth stranger. Who are you? I asked. It replied. The thing's voice was deep but soft, like a massive bell heard from far away. This wasn't right, I said. This wasn't fair. It rarely is. The thing seemed to hesitate. Three hundred and seven lives stolen. People you cared about. That is a hard number to accept. But it could have. The doctor saved many lives that first night at the hospital, and you, Sheriff, you saved lives too in front of the jail. Trying to hold on to that.

The fourth stranger left, just as suddenly as the rest. I stood alone in the quarantine room with the bodies piled on the tiles around the drain. Not sure what else to do. I picked up my phone and tried to make a call. I selected the last number for my recent list. The phone rang. A tired voice answered on the third ring. What?

The man barked. Hey, Kevin, just checking something. I made a lot of calls that night. Anyone that I thought could help. The government got involved. Big gray trucks rolled in before dawn. They quarantined the entire town. Medical officials came wrapped inside of Canary Yellow Hazmat coveralls.

After they determined it was safe, the men and women in black suits descended on us like some overly serious locusts. I had to sign a lot of papers, make a lot of statements. I couldn't explain any of what happened, not logically, but neither could the government. At the end of it, the official story was that there was an outbreak in town, a kind of bacteria that killed some folks and made others violent.

Even that news was suppressed, buried to the point where we barely got any regional coverage, much less national. The true death count was hidden. Those of us who lived here knew the truth. Somehow, life moved on in our little town. But I will never forget. I'm preparing for the day the four strangers return, and my old deputy comes calling.

Next time, I'll be ready.