Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Hate's Harvest | Part 2

Episode Date: January 23, 2023

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Monsters exist. There's no longer any doubt about that. From the moment they appeared on Earth, spreading out from the smoldering ruin of Oak Ridge National Laboratory, we knew there was no way to stop them. They didn't play by any rules we knew. They defied our knowledge about the universe, physics, and the nature of existence. Hell, we couldn't even see them half the time. And when they did appear, it was to invade our minds, to feed on our hate, our anger. And they always showed up in a different form, as if they could appear to us however they wanted,

and they always wanted to appear in the most repulsive forms possible. The black-shrouted sentinels that show up during the day are impervious to bullets, fire, explosives, sound waves, and anything else people throw at them. It didn't take them long to control us. People fall in line pretty quickly when you start threatening the ones they love. their mothers or fathers, sisters or brothers, wives or husbands, or their kids. They showed up seven months ago.

Seven months before I killed my friend Sam and got the whole town pissed off at me. Seven months before I drove my truck into the town center to save Sandy from a fate worse than death. Now, as I'm dragged through a wretched hellscape of red-yellow fog that burns the eyes and prickles the skin, I wonder if death will be any kind of solace. I certainly hope so, because it's coming for me fast. The claw with the vice-like grip on my crushed right leg pulls me across the strange landscape. Gritting my teeth against the constant pain,

I can do nothing but wait until it brings me to rest. I see figures in the mist. They are the things of nightmares. They scurry like giant insects. Their mawes snapping and claw scraping. Some of them scream, releasing sounds that threaten to shatter the eardrums. Maybe they're waiting until I stop so they can attack.

There's some kind of weak, ambient light in this place, but it seems sourceless. And the strange yellow-red mist prevents me from seeing more than five yards in any direction. Finally, I'm pulled into a small clearing surrounded by branchless trees. I cry out as the claw releases my leg and disappears into the fog. I sit up, looking at the broken limb. It's shattered. That much is clear. I wonder how much surgery it will take to fix it. It's an absurd thought. The old ways of thinking die hard. There will be no surgery. I will die in this place. Whether it takes an hour or a year,

or a thousand years, it will happen eventually. I hear chittering from beyond the trees, and I look out, seeing creatures with too many legs and unthinkable bodies darting around out there. I wonder what they're waiting for. Something moves above me, catching my attention. Craning my neck, I glance up to see a massive object rushing down at me from above. No, not just one, several. I suddenly realize those aren't trees around me. They're snake-like creatures sticking out of the ground, hundreds of feet tall.

and their heads are twisting down to investigate. Only they don't have heads, not really. I recognize the claw one, which brought me here. Another one has a massive eye at its end. As it looks down on me, it blinks, two huge eyelids coming together. Only instead of eyelashes at the ends, there are teeth. They clamp together with a sound like a hydraulic press.

Another one, the closest one, has hundreds of things. thick, wriggling worms at its end. It rushes at me, and I drop onto my back, turning my head away as the worms come to investigate. They're warm and wet. At first, they just probe here and there, touching harmlessly. But as I turn my head to look at them, little slits open up at the ends of the worms, their mouths filled with rows of tiny teeth, and they start probing me again. But this time they take chunks of flesh with them, ripped out by those greedy mouths. I scream and roll away. But the thing stays with me, taking chunk after chunk out.

Reaching up, I grab one of the slimy suckers and yank, ripping it out amid a gush of dark green goo. It does a little good. There are too many. Pain floods my senses as I scream and thrash. They're taking me apart. I roll over onto my stomach and put my hands over my head. They continue, gulping me down, one marble-sized chunk at a time. Then something happens.

The thing stops taking bites out of me, just as I feel a gush of warm goo flood down over me. I roll onto my back amid the slime to see the massive thing with the worms on the end of it, retreating back up into the misty sky. But the squirming worms there are no longer fully intact. They've been cut in half. The warm goo coating me is that green stuff I saw, along with the top half of all the worms. Something grabs my left foot. I look down to see my friend Sam grasping my left leg at the ankle.

He holds a strange device in his other hand, a weapon of some kind. Sam? I ask, delirious with pain and blood loss. I killed you. Sam points his strange device at me. There's a bright flash of light, and then nothing. Mazin sur-gely, Pucance-Moyerned

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if the day comes, Sam said to me. We were standing outside the broken stool bar. Three months after our new normal settled in.

We'd spent the afternoon. It was a Saturday drinking. The bars stayed open after the monster's restored order. So did the restaurants and the grocery stores.

Farmers and food producers and every other company resumed business as usual. Life pretty much stayed the same, just with a few new rules and rituals. Be home at sundown for the feeding and then the killing, if there was one. And there usually was. Someone always did something to piss the monsters off, to keep the cycle going, the cycle of hate.

But this particular Saturday evening, we were about to head back to our homes when Sam stopped me just outside the small bar. On the roof of the insurance office across the street, one of those unmoving black figure stood, keeping watch, reminding us of who was making the rules. Promise me you'll kill me if I'm ever selected, Sam said, his brown eyes swimming as he looked up into my face. Even though we were both drunk, I knew he meant what he said. I could see it in his eyes. He meant every word. Of course, of course I'll do it, I said. But you have to do the same for me. Relief changed Sam's features.

His round face and bushy black beard gave him the constant look of a half-wild animal. He was short and thick-limbed and always laughed with his belly. But he wasn't laughing that evening. I hadn't heard him laugh in four months. You got a deal, he said. We shook hands and then went our separate ways. We had to be home in time for the feeding, or there would be hell to be hell to be. pay. Three more months passed. The feedings continued like clockwork. Acquaintances were torn apart by

monsters from an alternate dimension on our television screens. Then a man named Tim Shepard went crazy and set his apartment building on fire. They didn't like that. And the next night, they selected Sam to pay the price. So as soon as I saw him come onto my television screen, I ran out of the house with my pistol and made it to the town square. And I put a bullet into Sam's head before he could be torn apart by the creatures. His last words were, Thank you.

I thought that was the end of Sam. Apparently, I was wrong. Because I see him as I open my eyes. He stands over me, watching. Sam, I say, looking around, am I dead? We're in some kind of pyramidal room. The walls are made of shimmery black substance.

like immaculate black marble shined to a high gloss. White light seeps in from the lines where the walls on the floor meet. You're not dead, Sam says. But you almost died. And I'm not really Sam. I realize I'm no longer in tremendous pain. There's a steady undercurrent of discomfort, and I feel really heavy.

But the sickening pain that racked my body before I lost consciousness is gone. My thoughts are muddled. Everything seems far away, like I can't quite grasp reality. What do you mean? I ask. Would you like to free your world? He says. Bree? Blinking. I lift my head to look down at my body.

What is this? I say, vision closing to a tunnel. What did you do to me? The bottom of my right leg is covered in a ridged, metallic sleeve. My chest and arms are concealed by an overlapping framework of a wall. metal segments. The only part of me I still recognize is my left leg, which is pale and sickly looking in the weak white light of the room. Your physiology is simple, Sam says. But the damage was too great for traditional human healing techniques. We had to improvise to keep you alive.

These words barely register. I'm still looking down. I move my right leg, bending it at the knee. The limb obeys, but it feels different. Like there's a slight delay, an extra layer of something, interface maybe, between me thinking about moving it and actually moving it. My right arm is different. It feels closer to normal, but not quite. I sit up and swing my legs off the strange black block I've been laying on. Would you like to save your world? Sam asks again. I look up at him. You're not Sam. That is correct. How are you doing this?

Manipulating your rudimentary sensory inputs is not difficult for us. Your thoughts were filled with memories of this man, Sam. We decided it would be better to show you this form instead of my true form, which is hard for humans to comprehend. You're aliens? If that's how it is best for you to understand us, then yes. I can understand you just fine, I say. Just tell me what you are.

Sam's eyes looked down at me. The skin on the other side of them crinkles as he winces. It really looks just like him. We exist in a different plane of existence than you. Explaining it would require math that even your best scientists could not understand. Shaking my head, I look down at my right arm. My hand is still there, but it has segmented cables protruding from the skin at my wrist and diving back under the skin on the back of my palm.

I make a fist. It feels strong. So why help us? I asked the thing that looks like Sam. Balance, Sam says. I look back up at him. It's good enough for me. How do we defeat them?

I ask. Sam smiles. We'll get you as close as we can. Sam says. Members of your military are nearby, so you may have to pass them to get to the site. Fantastic, I say. And why can't you come with me?

While it's possible for us to visit your reality, operating in your physical world would stress us tremendously within minutes, we would be of no use. What about this place? I ask, looking around the strange room with its slanted black walls and glossy floor. I've been walking around,

getting used to the changes they made to my body. I feel surprisingly good. Is this not physical? It is physical, but it is not located in your plane of existence. It is an extremely controlled environment we've created and stabilized with great effort so we can have this conversation. So you've been working towards this? That's correct.

For how long? We perceive time differently than you, but we've been preparing for this ever since your world was invaded. I pause, considering this, did you know it was me who would have been. come? No. We only hoped some human would come into the demon realm and survive for long enough so we could retrieve them. It just happened to be you. The demon realm? I ask. That's what you call it? Given your language, that seems like the most appropriate term for the place. I shrug. True. I can't think of a better term. But remember, Darren, that when we put you back on earth, they will sense it, and they will release demons to stop you.

Great, I say. Wait, so they're not the demons? Sam shakes his head. No, the demons, like those that attacked you, are tools they use, like you use animals on Earth. Well, I hope you can get me close. We will get you as close as we can. The disturbance that allowed them to come to your world

is creating interference around the Oak Ridge Laboratory, putting you directly next to you. to the target area would risk unknowns we can't abide. What? Like me showing up without a head or something? We don't know. Finally, something you don't know, I say. Would you like to go over your objective once more?

Sam asks. We've already gone over it twice. At this point, we're just rehashing old information. It feels like procrastination. Turns out, multidimensional beings put important stuff off too. No, I think I've got it. Just give me the device and let's get this over with. You will arrive with a device.

The rest will be up to you. Let's do it then. Sam nods. Then he seems to shimmer, disappearing as if he was never there. The bars of light where the walls and ceiling meet suddenly grow brighter. I raise a hand to shield my eyes, but then I have to close them. It's so bright. The wind blows across my skin.

I open my eyes and look around, seeing that I'm standing. in a narrow clearing. A brilliant blue, cloudless sky stretches out above me. The smells of foliage and rich dirt fill my nostrils. I'm back on earth. There's something in my hand, something that wasn't there before. I look down at it, seeing that it's the weapon Sam showed me. He explained how to use it. It's a simple weapon. Point and shoot. It looks like a futuristic polycarbonate water gun. Next to me, on the ground, is a strange device that looks like a complex boom box, like the kind guys used to walk around with on their shoulders in 80s movies. It even has a handle for easy carrying.

I look around, seeing nothing but trees surrounding me. I point the water gun at the nearest tree and pull the trigger. There's a faint clicking sound, and the tree falls apart in a splash of dust. Holy hell, I say, looking at the gun. I expected a red laser beam or something, but I'm not disappointed. Bending down, I grabbed the device's handle and lift it. It must weigh 60 pounds. The cybernetic repairs to my body shift and were, compensating for the weight.

I straighten and move ahead toward the edge of the clearing. The device is heavy, but I don't struggle with it like I would without these strange enhancements. As I move through the trees, I keep an eye out for deemps. demons, as Sam called them. He said they'd be released about as soon as I arrived, but I don't see any, not yet anyway. After ten minutes of trudging through the trees, I hear voices coming from the other side of a low hill. I set down the weird boombox thing and creep up the hill to peer over. My eyes go wide. About 30 yards distant, there's a line of men and women in combat fatigues, soldiers. They mill around tanks and humvees and mobile command vehicles. There are tents set up here

and there. Most of them carry weapons. But they aren't looking in this direction. They're looking away from me at a collection of buildings and roads marred with large craters. From what I can see, the area once looked like the industrial portion of a major city. Now, it looks like an apocalyptic mess, a war zone. Buildings are crumbling. Roads are crumbling. Roads are crows. and warped, and there's some kind of weird shimmer in the air. I must be in the right place. Moving back from the low hill, I retrieve the boombox thing, and then skirt the line of soldiers, looking for a way in.

I stay in the trees, moving up periodically to look for gaps in the containment. I don't see any. They've got the place surrounded, and it is a large place. As I move, I get a better look at where the strange shimmer. is coming from. Near the middle of the lab property, there's a massive crater in the ground, so massive, I can't see its bottom from where I am. But that's where the shimmer seems to be coming from. It's a pale, purple, pink, and white glow. And it's most apparent when I'm not looking directly at it. As I'm staring at this inverted dome filled with rubble, the ground shakes.

The soldiers between me and the crater shout, running around like ants on a disturbed ant hill. The shimmer becomes more brilliant, flaring from the bottom of the crater. The soldiers take their positions, getting inside humbys or tents or tanks ready for action. All of a sudden, I see my chance. There's a gap between two tents that I can run through. From there, it's not much further to the edge of the crater. And once I'm in the crater, there are massive chunks of concrete here and there that will provide cover. I won't need long anyway.

Once I'm near the shimmer, I can set the boombox off. Sam told me it wouldn't affect me or any other humans, just the creatures who've invaded Earth. Of course, I may be shot by the soldiers or killed by demons in the process, but that's okay. I already thought I was going to die in the demon dimension. As long as I can put the world right again, it'll all be worth it. Gripping the boombox in my left hand and the alien weapon in my right, I bolt toward the edge of the tree line. My augmented legs propel me forward twice as fast as I ran before.

The wind, whooshes past me as my arms pump and legs pissed in. And I actually manage a smile as I run between the two tents. Shouts erupt from behind me. Soldiers, yelling for me to stop. Then they fire at me. Bullets strike the ground on all sides. I jump when I'm ten yards from the edge of the crater, flying through the air like a superhero.

I soar over the crater's lip, bringing the bottom of it into view. And just before I land next to a piece of tumbled building, I see the demons pouring out of a rip near the glowing orb at the center of the crater. My legs absorb the impact easily as I land, but now I have a problem. There are demons in front of me and soldiers behind. I'd better make this quick. Sam told me to get as close as I could to the source of their power. Or whatever the hell that thing is,

And I don't want to take any chances. Running around the rubble, I lift the alien gun and fire at the nearest demon, which is a huge floating head made of red bubbly skin with a single eye and a toothy mouth. The demon disintegrates into dust. There are hundreds of others, though. The soldiers behind me are now firing at the creatures, which is good. But the bullets only do so much, especially to the big ones. A black creature the size of an elephant, but with a horned head,

skin spotted with silently screaming faces charges me. I fire the gun and it disintegrates. But there's another one right behind it. And before I can fire the weapon again, the thing lowers its head and jams one of its horns onto my chest. The metal repairs to my body crumple with a massive impact and the horn impales me. I scream breathlessly, dropping the boombox to the ground as the creature lifts me up, bucking its head, making the wound larger. I still have the gun gun in my hand, and I point it down at the things back, then pull the trigger. It disappears in a poof of dust, and I fall to the ground, landing 10 yards away from the boombox device. Creatures scream and growl. Their noise is barely audible over the sound of rifles and machine guns and the occasional

grenade. I clutch my left hand to my bloody wound, just under my rib cage on the left side of my chest. Shaking, I crawl toward the boombox device, pausing here and there to shoot any creature who approaches. Most of them are occupied with the soldiers, but certainly not all of them. The life is draining from me quickly. My muscles don't want to work, and the enhancements just seem to make me heavier. A creature slams into my back, cracking my head against the ground before I can aim the gun behind me and shoot it. The boombox device is just ahead, so close. I pull myself toward the world going black around me. It's hard to breathe. Something's broken inside me. Something's broken inside me, something important.

Reaching my left hand out, I press one of the strange buttons on the thing. I remember the sequence Sam taught me, short and simple, at least for someone who isn't dying. I press a second button, then reach for a third. Something lands on me, its claws sinking into my upper back. I lash out at the third button, the last in the sequence, as I'm lifted off the ground by some flying monstrosity. Did I hit it? Did I hit the button?

I don't know. I hit the device, but I'm not sure if I hit the button or just the area next to it. The boombox thing fades from my view as the creature brings me swiftly into the air, reaching 40 or 50 feet in a matter of moments, and it keeps going up. I still have the gun in my hand, but if I shoot the thing, I'll fall to my death. Oh well, better to go out on my own terms. I raise the alien gun up with the last of my strength and pull the trigger. Suddenly I'm falling. I look down, finding the boombox thing with my eyes.

And just as I'm about to hit the ground, a wave of black explodes from the device. Oops, the cashier says. She's just dropped a bag of tomatoes, probably bruising a couple of them. It's the same girl from earlier, Jenny. She's chewing the same flavor of gum, wearing the same makeup.

I'm so sorry, she says, looking up at me. It's a genuine approach. apology. It's okay, I tell her. Do you want me to replace them? Jenny asks. I can go get you some other tomatoes. I don't mind. It's fine, I tell her. She hesitates, then finishes ringing up the rest of my groceries. She doesn't glance at the bulky and obvious protrusions under my shirt. She doesn't stare at the bruises on my face. And when I walked up with my groceries about a minute ago now, She didn't stare at my metal legs, visible under the hems of my shorts. Not that I would care if she did.

I'm on top of the goddamn world. My new alien pals managed to bring me back to life and keep me alive. And thanks to them, I won't be spending the rest of my days bedridden or in a wheelchair. I couldn't be happier. As Jenny is scanning the last items, Sandy comes hurrying up with the yogurt we forgot. She squeezes past the old woman behind us in the checkout line, then smiles as she puts the yogurt on the belt. She limps slightly, but it's barely noticeable.

The demons didn't do as much damage to her legs as I thought. As it turns out, saving the world from some hellish creatures from another dimension, with the help of yet other creatures from yet another dimension, allows you some leeway when it comes to relationships. Oh, and it probably didn't hurt that I saved Sandy's life. essentially sacrificing myself for her. She doesn't seem to mind my new body.

And, if Sam is to be believed, knew Sam, not the one I shot, then he's working on something a little more lifelike for me. If anyone can do it, it's Sam and his crew of incomprehensible creatures. I pull out my debit card to pay for the groceries, but the manager suddenly shows up out of nowhere. These are on us, Mr. Thielen, he said.

doing something on the register to comp my groceries. Wow, thank you, I say. Thanks so much, Sandy says. Another employee is just finishing the bagging process. When it's done, we head out into the parking lot. Thank you, Mr. Thielen. Jenny shouts after me. I give her a thumbs up.

A guy is pushing a line of carts up toward the entrance. He stops in the middle of the crosswalk, blocking a truck from crossing, and gives me a salute. I returned the gesture, my arm, worrying. This is going to take some getting used to, I tell Sandy. I think I liked it more when no one paid any attention to me at all. Except for me, Sandy says.

Right, I say, smiling. Except for you. As we go to Sandy's car, I look around for those strange black figures that haunted our town during the daytime. There's none to be seen. But the best part of all is the world's reaction to the whole... After living with so much hate, cultivating it, like it was a precious commodity, people seem to be burned out on it. There's a definite lack of horrible stories in the news. People are actually being good to each other for a change.

I doubt it will last for long, but I'm enjoying it while I can. Hate is a terrible thing, maybe the worst, and we'd be better off without it.