Excerpt for Gory 1 by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

The writer wishes to inform the reader…all description of places within this book is a work of the writer’s imagination…though names of places may vary…The writer apologizes for all coincidence as it was not intended….

……For every blood they shed…..

They take a step closer to losing humanity

To become what they really are …….demon

Of death…….A beast…….To become…….

……man’s greatest……. NIGHTMARE…….

…….A monster out of the jungle…….

……. A beast out of the sea…….

……. When experiment crosses ethical bound……. Mutation is an affront to nature…….


Chapter one


…..home is behind, the world ahead…..

The night sky was dark and misty; the full moon lay hazily in a black cloud above it all, staring at the forest lying quiet and inanimate, too quiet for the smallest of creatures to be heard. Spasmodically, the wind went in a wift among the trees, rounding their bends. Stirring the yarrows bunched in a lump among the stumps, breathing life for a brief moment into the forest. All was still again and nothing moved, then it came, a howling cry, a dry bark reverberating among the mist sounding unearthly amidst the quiet background and bouncing off into silence. There was a rustling sound, a lone feet pounded. Running below the trees, unskillfully dodging the entangled climbers and chained ropes of spiky thorns, tripping and rolling among the mud and leaves, its breath came in quick gasps as it made a desperate escape in the dark, the howl rang out again, sounding more unnatural and closer, the cry breaking through the hairs on the skin, making it stand on end. The accompanying whoosh could be heard weaving its way below the forest canopy yapping furiously as it made closer to its quarry. Out of the thicket a battered figure of a man tumbled into the clearing, edged by grass, all around, his coat was torn at all places, his grey hair set at a very wild angle. The blood spattered and fiery look could not belie the fear coming out of every piece of him. On his face, a long scar, set from the side of his ear, ran down his cheek, only to be cut off by the ensuing bone, it laid fresh and sandy. He breathed painfully in and fell on his side the scrammy face barely illuminated by the moon light his upturned coat revealed a gnarled ugly gash on his ribs made by something that looked like a sharp pointy claw. He contracted stiffly with spasm pulling out a thorn that stuck to the gash, the wound drooped and caked with dark blood, his vacant eyes searched the night sky, peering at the moon, his mouth twitched into a curse as he waited patiently for them to come ,the whoosh drew nearer thumping and cracking as it crashed into tree branches, the wind brought a hellish smell that seemed to sail in the air, the man cringed into the darkness the scent in his nostrils, he pulled out his phone from his torn coat pocket and switched it on. It slowly booted….


“May I have your identity” the operator from the phone asked. The man shuffled back in fright on hearing the soft mechanic voice which was unaware of his plight that at first only a croak escaped from his lips…

“May I have your identity” the operator repeated…

“Ma…Mark” he croaked” Mark Otele”

“Mr. Mark Otele…. Identity accepted” the voice replied, the light from the phone screen, fell on his dilating pupils…his voice lolled out unfirmly, more like a plea… “Operator… c-call me” quite firmly “call me Mr.… father k”

“Father k… calling” the line buzzed for a while, then a manly voice answered…

“Mark ….do you know what time it is” He barked

“Am sorry sir…but they are after me…”

‘’They?” The man voice rose ‘’who’’

“The creations’’ Mark eyed the dark furtively…..

“How did they get out of the tube?”

“You see…”he stammered “I was only trying to…I…I…mutations need examination…I had no idea…”

“You let them out!!!” The voice roared

“I didn’t mean to…I…”

“What have you done…?”

“I’m sorry”

“Not yet…not until your dead…”The line went stone silent for a minute…then…the voice replied in a gritty tone…

“K3 will be on their way…and Mark…after this is over, you’ll have me to deal with ...”Then like an afterthought “If it’s over with you alive…”the line banged dead; the jungle sat quietly again, Mark felt the fear clawing at his skin. He peered at the phone and saw the network bar drop discouragely, but in his panic his voice dialed home…..

“Operator…….. Call me my wife”


“Wifey……..calling” the line buzzed slowly, there was break, then the reply came.

“Sorry…the number you are trying to call is not reachable at the moment please try again later...Thank you”

“God damn it……..”He cried “operator…call me my wife”

“Wifey... Calling” the buzz came in softly again…Suddenly, a sleepy female voice answered at the receiving side……..

“Hello...Mark dear… Where are you” He grabbed the phone to his ears.

“Ellie” he rasped loudly “listen to me Ellie…am not going to make it” He breathed in “They’re gonna kill me……”

“Who Mark…….who” Ellie cried……..

“No time to explain……..take care of our girl okay……..I lov……..”

From behind a harsh rustling interrupted him, out of the woods, slowly, swarmed eyes, glowing, watching him intently, their bodies’ lumpy dark against the night...

“Marks…are you there”

Their smell, reeking of blood, mingled with a curious taint of smoke, like monsters from hell, their canines gleaming white, glittering with a purpose of murder……..blood……..DEATH!!

“Mark” Ellie yelped “Mark”

Mark sat rigidly, watching the creatures, things he had made with his own hands, now had rebelled against him, to kill him……..NO…… EAT HIM! Monsters were monsters, either in the wild or in a glass tube, smoked with purple gas. A warm wet patch formed on his trousers as the creatures grind their fangs furiously, he could still feel the fear clawing at his skin, giving no room for nothing but beg for mercy... He stood on the both knees, his hands clasped together; his lips muttered a silent prayer. A tearing snarl sent him backwards, shrinking with fright. The monsters once immobile countenance now contoured with foaming hunger...

“Mark…honey. Are you there” Ellie still cried at the end of the line...

The creatures hurled themselves at him; they bit, clawed, and slashed all around him. They roared, yapped tearing the flesh from him. He kicked, rolled, screamed, his shrill voice rang over the din, and the darkness was all over him, darkness of roused scavengers……..

“Mark……..” Ellie’s voice sobbed “Mark can you hear me……..Mark ohhhh my God”

He couldn’t, the blood sputtered over him, he felt his fingers being ripped off and the numbing pain that followed, the stomach was slashed and the innards drawn out and torn, a shooting pain coursed through his body as dark lumps made for his throat. The warm stuff ran over his chest, he tried to wave the darkness off, those tearing at his head, on his thigh, tearing at his genitals...a gurgling sound rose from his open throat a sound calling for help.

But suddenly, he no longer felt, he no more kicked or rolled, his brain clicked dully. Then he knew why, his head was gone, he could see the monsters over his body, he could still hear Ellie’s voice over the noise of the cackling, it was like watching a movie with a bad scene, watching from a great distance away.

All was over, but then help came, a blast and a strange purple gas filled the air. The beasts sent up a sparocious howl, which roared over the forest, among the wooden canopy, far into the woods, swallowed in by the dark. But even in the dark the bodily images of men could be seen, the light of the moon fell on their glowing guns, as they watched the corpse where it laid, gleaming white in the night, a torn pile of bones and blood. Death was gone and left no prints, not even its smell…. but a faint signature in the steely eyes of Mark’s ghoulish head….

“We were too late” a gas mask muffled voice said in the brittle cold air …….

“What’s the use” another sputtered “he could have still being killed if we delivered him to Boss K”

“What got into his thick skull to open the tube anyway” another fumed

“Hmmmm… Mad men have their way around things”

“Yes... I know but what was he thinking” there was a silent pause, then a voice sighed…

“Spreading mass mayhem I think… We’ve done our best…let’s get out of here. They could still be around” there was a retreading rustle and all was silent again. The moon hid softly behind the murder, into its blanket of clouds, shaded by the blue sky. There was a pattering of liquid on the leaves, and then rain came tumbling down, pouring it content into the floor. Like the switch was turn, the forest became alive, the croaking of frogs could be heard, the chirping of crickets, the harsh hooting of owls. The forest activities carried on, like nothing happen. Night became darker as dawn approached swallowing up the last sight of the rain washed corpse. A cold withdrawn sigh seeped out of the woods, accompanied by the words.


The blanket of night folded slowly and the sky turned blue in inches, as the sun rose grudgingly, yawning streaks of golden light into the town. It rose lazily over the forest, its trees seen from a distance as a bunch of green vegetation, slumbering still in their immortal sleep, over the coastal seas, the haze clouds over it and the early fisherman rowing out in the mist, over homes, the brown light on their roofs, grey and black dogs running around the grass, rubbing against trees and feeding it with their putrid urine. Over office workers, stumbling over blocks, knotting ties and punching door bells. Over school children, who ran and filed the streets and schools with their laughter. Over house wives, who slipped nonchalantly out of bed, slowly getting ready for the day and friends. Over drunken men, their clothes trialing in one hand, stalking below street walls, falling in the dirt and mud, stinking of their own icky vomit. Over the police department, looking like a lost penny amidst the towering structures of private hospitals and glowing residential areas. It sat forlornly on a rectangular area, lumpy in its poor structure. A drab looking building, splattered over with a worn green and brown paint. Its gate was situated in a queer corner of the compound, backing the main road like the plan was drawn by a faulty architect.

There was an irritate pee-pee outside, followed by a mindless curse. The gateman appeared from his shack and scurried towards the sound, sloping the gate open. A police patrol van nosed its way into the scrammy length of lawn and screeched of. The car gleamed in the morn, giving of a faint impression of the rider within. The door squeaked open; a smart looking man stepped out, his check shirt flushed in the wind blending into his dark trousers. His head twitched like a weather van in a storm, first to the left then to the right, then tilted his head back quickly as the noise from the prison department hit him. He recovered from the shock and pushed open the door to the police department and again threw his head back as the hot musty air seeped into his nostrils. The counter was empty, everywhere was dusty, the log book rested uncertainly on a roll of cobweb. He heard sharp clicking on a keyboard and peered into the investigation room…. He saw the figure of a woman, from the shape, it looked like someone.

“Hey Sid……..your sort of early today” the lady turned around to stare at him, her glasses gave off an intimidating glare, unseeing the smile on his face, she smiled back.

“’re still in mufti. What time is it?” her voice sounded unnatural and high pitched...

“I’ve been promoted” He looked at his watch “It’s just ten”

Joe walked slowly over to his desk at the far end of the large room which held three more desks; Sid chuckled softly and went back to work…saying briefly over her shoulders.

“Not your kind Joe……..not your kind”

He placed a hand on his opposite wall, every inch covered in brown, musty photos, looking old and worn out. He took one of them and stared forlornly at it. The old eyes stared back at him, the grey of the hair curly and undefined, Joe wondered how so old a man could be accused of murder, accused of killing his own wife, the rugged face proclaimed no devil, the lips were furled in a wry smile. Well Joe thought, there is a devil in every man’s heart. He replaced the photo, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm on the desk. There’s no work at all he fumed. Sid gave him a side glance over her work …

“Let me guess…you’re lonely again” the rhythm got louder as he walked around.

“Of course I’m lonely… I can’t roll in this office the whole day… Without anything to do” he spins frustratingly on his heels “where’s everybody… The counter is empty, there’s no one at the cell... Is there a public holiday or something?”

“No... it’s not” she replied.

“Then where’s everybody”

“Am not the only one here” her fingers paused on the key board “There’s Okon... but he’s in the forensic lab. He’s been on one case for three months” Joe’s face squeezed in distaste “Well…There’s Melvin, bet he’s on the road, so is Kelvin, Felicity is on leave and the rest are on transfer… Small face talks about getting personnel from other commissions… But you know how he goes on… it’s all TBA”

“The bastard”

“Well it’s me and you for now” Joe dropped into the chair with rejection, he spun around a few times, humming the latest blues, his behavior provoked emotion and Sid couldn’t help saying.

“There’s a case… That is… if you wanna hear it”

Joe sat erect.

“I want to hear it”

“Well… There’s been some bag snatching in the outer part of town… Yes and a child almost drowned in a well…they think his stepmom threw him in… Yeah let me see” she opens a file on her desk “yeah… Road 1-4-7 and a boy got…” Joe motioned for her to stop.

“Aaargh… Don’t go on…am a homicide detective… you can give those to Okon…” he shuddered in irritation “we know how well he loves those cases… I can’t spend my whole career, snorkeling from day to day… In a warm bath of petty cases… What’s happening” he groaned “Where’s all the criminals… Are we out of murderers” Sid glasses flash...

“Well your murder is coming up… Small face has been talking about you”

“Small face can talk about me all he wants… Am goanna…”

A ferocious yelp interrupts Joe; a crash is heard outside the room, followed by fluttering of papers in the breeze. The IR door flings open with Melvin running in, clutching his hands, a single paper floating in his wake. His ruby and humored face contoured in pain…

“Suck” he groaned “now my hand is out of the place” noticing them, his hair flopped in their direction “thank God it’s a good thing you’re here” turns to Joe “there’ve been murders…in town…out of town…in the forest…Winners campsite…I – I – I saw them, a mess of bones and blood”

Joe starts impatiently in excitement…….

“Out with it……. What are you schwa-ing about…you know I can’t understand you when you talk like that…”

“No-no-no” Melvin’s hair flopped from side to side aggressively “let me finish… Can I talk…good…murders I tell you, I ‘vent seen such deaths in my life…we’ve got 70 kills at present…” Shivers shrilly “in a week”

Joe tapped the desk with his fingers unconsciously…

“So what…seems to be killing them?”

Melvin shuddered…….

“Dunno…….the bodies have been mauled beyond recognition……. And I don’t think one person was involved in the kill…….it looks like a gang attack”

“A gang of what?” Joe asked

“How should I know” Melvin shrieked “we’ve got no lead on the killer…….we got no lead on anything, all we’ve got is scribbling of blood at the site of the murder”

Sid who has been seemly uninterested in the proceedings, suddenly asked…….

“What does it say?”

I AM HERE” Melvin answered

“I am here……. what’s I am here”

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