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Rated: E · Fiction · Dark · #1707403
A new version of an old scary story about a Jersey Devil.
Oscar sat in the dark alone, with his back against a wall of the empty room. He rocked back and forth staring at the window shaped square of moonlight on the old wooden floor. The branch of the large oak tree outside waved slowly to him through the second floor window.

The air in the room was still and specks of dust floated lazily in the beam of light. The strong winds, blowing over the giant hole in a roof, sent a draft through the house. The breeze came under the door and curled around Oscar's bare feet making him shiver slightlty.

"They're coming" Oscar whispered aloud to himself

"I know" a voice in his head answered

"What will we do?"

"We will run again" the voice replied

"Im tired of running" Oscar said with a smirk

"Behave" the voice inside his head commanded.

It had been about 3 months when the voice began to speak. In a low whisper at first that Oscar sometimes mistook for nothing. He didn't always agree with what the voice said, but it had gotten him out of trouble many times. It often told there were many times still that he wasn't aware of. Either way the voice was the only one who would talk to him and none of the advice had led to harm.
Since it had never told him a name and he wasn't sure if it was just him talking to himself, he named the voice "self".

Oscar's head cocked to the side as he heard the quiet creak of the doorknob on the first floor being turned slowly. His eyes dialated and reflected silver in the light as he stared at himself in a mirror across the room. One sleeve of the black polo had been completely torn off and the grey cargo pants were full of tiny holes with a large tear at the knee. His facial hair had grown into a rough patch of fuzz.

"How Long was I sitting there" Oscar asked the voice.

"As long as necessary" the voice replied "You had grievous injuries, they took time to heal.

Oscar made a face at the taste of his tongue. His breath tasted hot and bitter, from his mouth being closed for so long as he slept. He twisted and stretched muscles that hadn't moved in at least a few weeks. They popped as he twisted and stretched them out.

The door blew open with a loud bang and gush of concussive force that startled him. He had not heard any footsteps approach since the creak of the knob down below, and he silently scolded himself for being careless and not paying attention.

They began their attack. A flashbang was lightly tossed in and for a moment the room was flooded in a brilliant white light. Oscar had jumped to the side but his ears still rang. Four small canisters rolled in spewing their noxious tear gas smoke.

"Run" self screamed in Oscars head. "Run Now!"

Oscars muscles tensed as he waited to see what would come through the door next. He stalked along the wall to the right of the door where the shadows were darkest watching and listening intently.

"No Oscar" self said more sternly "We must go"

The first man came around the corner leading with his M-4 assault rifle, but couldn't raise it fast enough. Oscar grabbed him by the throat, his strong fingers digging into the flesh of the mans neck pulling him face to face. The man was wearing large night vision goggles and Oscar stared at reflection curiously. He was smiling again. Oscar lifted the man up in the air with the one hand and sneered.

Oscar felt the strength drain from the man a little, before the soldiers instinct kicked in and he pulled the trigger on his weapon. The assault rifle shot a spray of bullets wide peppering the wall across from the door and shattering the window. Oscar grabbed him by the wrist that was holding the rifle, and ripped the arm out from the socket grinning. The man scream came out as a gurgle as Oscar's hand squeezed around his voicebox and ripped it out.

The second and third man ran into the room, guns raised as the body of their friend hit the floor. They found him in a crumpled heap in the center of the floor, rolling back and forth, beyond help. They both scanned the room opposite directions getting ready to drag their friend back through the door, out into the safety of the hallway. Oscar crouched in the shadows on the ceiling upside down, watching them curiously.

"You're going to be alright Mike." one of the men said to the one dying on the floor. "We're going to kill this piece of shit." he said looking around nervously.

Oscar looked at the door and made it slam violently shut with his intent. He had been learning to use his intent more and more lately. He could move all kinds of things now, some with great force. Lately he had been practicing getting animals to do simple commands, getting birds to fly in patterns, a dog to walk in endless circles. The door had slammed with a tremendous force echoing far into the house, Oscar was getting more powerful.

Oscar smiled and crouched his body flatter against the ceiling as the two men spun in panic. The one on the floor was of small frame, Oscar had barely felt his weight when he lifted his body from the floor. The second and third men were of larger build and wore heavier body armor. Their suits were black and he could see the darker black cross insignia embedded into the metal of their chest plates. He continued to smirk, observing them curiously.

"Oscar, its time to go" self said "You're only going to bring yourself more trouble."

Oscar wasn't listening though, and he grinned as he turned the doorknob with his intent. The men in black suits raised their guns and sprayed a rain of fire at the door, each emptying a clip and reloading. They had panicked just as Oscar had hoped.

Oscar dropped down silently and landed on the shoulders of the man who had not advanced. The mans neck snapped with a sickening pop, after a sharp twist of Oscars forearms. The man in front spun at the sound just in time to see the tip of Oscar's feet disappear upwards into the shadows.

The man looked up and gasped. Oscar stood on the ceiling with the same balance that he stood on the ground, staring at him with a grin.

"Run" Oscar said low voice "Leave your friends, and run"

Oscar could smell the fear pouring through the mans pores, and froze him in place with the gesture of his hand. Oscar dropped from the ceiling, twisting in the air to land on his feet with a loud stomp. He turned around slowly and considered the man. As Oscar began to advance on the man, the clip dropped out and the assault rifle ejected the bullet that rested in the chamber by itself.

The gunman threw the empty assault rifle away from him in panic and stood trembling as Oscar slowly walked closer. Oscar's eyes glittered blue in the darkness, an evil smile across his lips. Oscar advanced slowly and steadily until he stood three feet in front of his victim, and cocked his head to the side.

Oscar pondered quietly how to kill this last man. He thought about gouging the mans eyes out with his thumbs, or maybe squeezing his head between both palms until it smushed like a grape. His grin widened as he thought about biting the front of the mans throat and chewing out all the soft flesh there.
The man realizing his body was unable to move, began to scream uncontrollably, but his mouth suddenly snapped shut with an irritated glare from Oscar. Tears streamed down the mans face as his screams died muffled behind his lips squeezed shut.

Oscar was taking his final step forward before his body jerked violently to the side. The high power bullet from the .50 caliber rifle shot from across the street, tore through both of Oscars lungs. The impact of the shot had thrown Oscar into the wall with force.

Oscar crumpled to his hands and knees struggling to breathe. Blood was quickly filling his shredded lungs, and he coughed it out in dark splashes on the floor. He could already feel self busy at work trying to regenerate his torn organs, but the pain was intense. Oscar screamed a shrill gurgling cry as he reached out with his intent, through the widow, down the path of the bullet.

The sniper stared through the scope of the rifle and hesitated.

"Shoot!" his spotter screamed at his side "Don't take fucking chances with these things."

The spotters outburst had made the sniper look at his before realizing his mistake. He looked through the scope again at the pool of blood where the boy had been just a blink ago.

"HE'S AIRBORNE!!!" the spotter screamed, causing the sniper to stand and pull out his side arm.

There was another hole in the roof next to the one that had already been there before. The wood was splintered and scattered in all directions around it, but there was no sight of the boy.

Oscar pumped his newly sprouted wings climbing higher and higher into the sky. He disappeared up into the cover of a lowering fog. The cool mist of the fog kissed Oscar's lungs as he glided through them watching the two men, on the roof a mile away. He flew towards their direction climbing higher as he closed the distance. Both men shuddered as they heard the high pitched screech from somewhere above the fog.

The sniper's shaking hands almost made him drop the radio as he pressed the button and screamed. "THE TARGET IS AIRBORNE, REPEAT, THE TARGET IS AIRBORNE!!!, WHERE THE FUCK IS MY BACK UP!?"

When Oscar reached the right spot he tucked his wings close to his sides and began a steep dive from 300 feet above. The wind made the folded skin between the spines of his wings flutter as he dived. His body was straight, arms and legs in, and his newly sprouted tail twisted in the air funnel behind him as he gained speed in his dive.

The spotter had no time to respond. Oscar exploded out of the fog 50 feet above him with insane speed, closing the distance in a breath, grabbing the spotter by his head and slamming it into the concrete rooftop breaking through. The sniper turned around and fired four shots that missed before he was hit. Oscar had run to the side as soon as the spotters head had hit the floor and ran at the sniper.

Oscar had reached into the mans chest in one fluid motion, and held the mans beating heart in his hand, with a sinister smile. The sniper's mind fought to make sense of what was happening, staring in shock at the hand buried in his chest. He could not understand why he was still alive. He gasped for air staring into Oscar's glittering blue eyes, beautiful, emotionless eyes.

The snipers head dropped instantly as Oscar closed his grip around his heart suddenly. The radio fell from his hand and crackling to life.

"Team Alpha and Beta, this is War fox" the radio garbled. "Do not engage target until back up arrives, over. Target is a type 6 extremely dangerous, repeat, do not engage until back up arrives."

Oscar stared at the small black object on the floor with a blank expression. He could still feel the blood trickling into his lungs but he was healing, it would just take time. He walked to the edge of the roof and crouched stretching his wings out their full reach and folded them back sitting quietly.

"There it is" the pilot said as the helicopter broke through the clouds, pointing at Oscar crouched on the corner of the building

"The Jersey Devil" his co-pilot whispered to himself "Never thought I'd see one, before we killed em all."

"This isn't any jersey devil" the pilot said somberly "That's Oscar, he was one of the head conspirators in the cult." "He has made it to perfect transformation more than once."

"Who would have thought some crazy cult would actually succeed in turning themselves into devils." The co-pilot said aloud to himself from his seat behind the pilot. "I thought it was all storybooks"

Oscar stared at the strange noisy thing in the sky in the distance. "Helicopter" he whispered to himself, recalling a deeply buried memory.

"Yes, that is a helicopter" self explained back in Oscars head.

The emergency lights across the dashboard all began blinking at once, and the engine began to fail. The pilot fought to control the helicopter as the back rudder stopped and the helicopter began to spin out of control. The helicopter began to spin violently as it began to fall faster. "Fuck" the pilot screamed as he pulled the ejection lever and it failed, he could hear his co-pilot behind him pulling his lever just as hard.

Oscar watched the helicopter crash to the ground somewhere in the distance, staring at the orange glow of its explosion and fire. A breeze of wind blew in a scent that filled his nose, and he turned in its direction. One of his brethren was nearby. He jumped off the roof in one great leap and flapped his wings, climbing into the sky.

As Oscar flew through the clouds overhead people on the streets below heard an ear piercing shriek, followed by maniacal laughter. They all rushed for cover, dreading the thought of getting caught face to face, with a Jersey Devil...
© Copyright 2010 Onyx Wolf (onyxwolf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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