TRAPPERS

Hey there! This is an excerpt from a sucky scifi that I wrote a year ago, so don't nitpick or anything like that.

Mostly, kids, just enjoy the gruesome hellishness of it... and try not to barf

TRAPPERS

The Trappers came…

… with a scream of deathly pitch...

… with a ghastly terror.

Nothing could comprehend the evil. Nothing could mask this devilishness.

Shudder yelled, "This is it!"

Then came those horrid beasts, with arms flailing, and hoarse screeches penetrating the walls of the spider. They rushed in a turbulence of death and fear. Instinct grasped the crew. Madly, Kittahn swung his hatchet in the blinding darkness. As the Trappers flooded into the room, Kittahn began to dodge and fight simultaneously. Other hatchets connected with ripping sounds against the flesh of dozens of Trappers, and blood spewed everywhere.

One of them bounded towards Geeril, with its jaw thrashing. It was murderous and animated.

The moment was wracking, and seizing. With flaring impulse, Geeril slashed it across the chest, and the skin ripped open, giving way to the vile parasites inside the monster, with yellowish-red blood gushing from flopping arteries. The bones collapsed like brittle shell into a heap inside the beast's body. The creature still fought, flailing its arms about for several moments, until its death.

The horde was seemingly unending. More Trappers rushed into the room through the orifice, attacking the crew.

Krilna, in a frenzy against the torrent of monsters, tore and severed with both hatchet and hand. Each Trapper seemed harder to down than the last.

A Trapper grabbed him from behind, sinking his teeth into the back of Krilna's neck. Blood flowed.

Krilna's nerves went numb from the pain. To this, Krilna twisted so hard as to sling the Trapper upon his back and to the floor. Then, Krilna commenced to stamp that repulsive thing's head into oblivion with his foot.

Another beast grabbed Jorim and began to beat and strangle him. Death was only moments away.

Jorim writhed with all his might, but couldn't shake the creature's brutal hold. Loosening a yell and a speedy twist, he shoved it away, then sliced it gorily through the shoulder, wherein the arm fell to the ground, and the creature died within moments from its own un-clotted spillage.

Another immediately assaulted Jorim with slamming fists and putrid vomit, which gushed continuously. The vomiter was accompanied by another, whose entire right side of the head was missing, and whose arms dangled disjointedly from withered, boneless brown shoulders.

Jorim cut off the head of the vomiter. The stream of vomit still continued through its severed esophagus. Jorim killed the other with several chops to the chest.

Many more Trappers tumbled through the orifice, occupying every member of the crew. The crew's energy was running out, which would be problematic.

Shudder fought in a ghoulish manner, smashing into the Trappers' stomachs and chests to make holes, then reaching in and grasping hold of organs with his hands, and rending them from their place, letting fly a rain of guts and sinew.

The fight was coming to desperate measures. Anything could be done.

Mnimra now wielded a hatchet in one hand, and the head of a Trapper in the other, using one to hack and the other to bash. Trappers lunged, only to be slashed across the chest, or hacked in the arm, then bashed so heartlessly that the fatalities were dealt almost instantly.

The killing surmounted the cramped floorspace of the spider, and soon the only comprehensible ground was the corpses, which were submerged in their own dampness a few inches deep of bodily fluids of the most horrid type.

The killing stopped.

The momentum of those few minutes slowly dissipated. No more Trappers came, and the orifice above was empty. Kittahn stared down at the few dozen Trappers which littered the floor- which were the floor. Indeed, there was nothing tangible to walk on except the dead bodies.

Shudder stood with a dripping hatchet, like a maniacal slayer. Many others tried to wipe their blades on the spider's walls. A minute of silence passed as they all reflected upon what hideousness had just transpired.

Kittahn approached Shudder, "Is that all?"

Shudder didn't answer, but instead let Geeril speak, "No," said Geeril, "there'll be more… much, much more."

Jorim rejoined, "Aye, they come in rounds, son. That was the first wave, where they sent their weakest beasts at us. The next wave, though, won't be so gracious. By the end of the day, we may still be alive, but drowning in their blood."

Shudder cut in now, "That's the trap, Kittahn, for which they are called 'Trappers'. There are too many of them to count in this cove, so what just happened is what I'd call a minor transaction."

"Where do they get such an inexhaustible supply of monsters?" asked Kittahn.

Shudder commented, "Whoever gets stolen, gets infected, and gets used for things like this in the future. Also, their children are many."

Jorim said, "Aye, they keep a cumulating stock of any captured beings with which to breed. Somewhere here in this cove of Trappers, there is a rudely crafted facility which houses their past taken people. These people… are tormented unrelentingly."

Geeril spoke now, "Once we die here, they'll use us for something. For them, nothing goes to waste."

Kittahn raised his voice, "Geeril, why do you say 'once we die here'? My prospects are to live, not to fall and be forgotten here in this demonic pit, where-"

Shudder interrupted, "- Kittahn, if your prospects are to live, then you can only be either disappointed with death, or contented with life. But, if your prospects are to die, then you can only be either contented with your impending doom, or joyed at the most remote chance you have of surviving. I choose to live as if I will die tomorrow- or, if God have it, I choose to die as if I will live today."

Kittahn shook his head, barely understanding Shudder, "I only hope for life tomorrow."

"But what do you have to live for?" asked Jorim.

With that, a loud rumbling resonated throughout the spider, and vibrated in the humid air.

"What was that?" said Jorim.

The sound resonated again. Geeril closed his eyes, absorbing it with his ears, then, "It's the Devil's Left."

Kittahn yelled now, "Whose driving it!?"

"Ah, she comes when I need her." said Shudder, "She won't let me die, unless I die on her deck."

Mnimra lifted her weary head, "Are we saved, then?"

Shudder answered, and one could nearly imagine his eyebrows arching behind his mask, and his mischievous smile,

"Perchance, young lady, we will live, but only unto a better death."

A much louder rumbling now howled throughout the spider, and a great upheaval ensued. An enormous pathway opened between the "Devil" and her crew, - a metal tube, which they walked through, back into her arms- safe again.