Okay, so before you read this, you should know why I wrote it. For english class, I had to write a scary story. My friend and I decided I should do something kind of comical, just for a laugh. So, I did. It started out stupid but ended off kind of serious. In the end, it was 12 pages typed. This is also my first posted story, so be nice about it. So, read and enjoy.
30 DAYS OF MONKEYS
Have you ever seen a flying monkey? How about a flying monkey with a chainsaw? Well neither had I, until I traveled to a small town in northern Canada called Dunkadoo. It was a very old town, surrounded with strange myths and fables that described flying creatures and monsters. I’m an investigator, names John Willey. Over the past 30 years, this town has had over 1,500 strange and mysterious deaths and disappearances, which the town people called ‘accidents’. Ha, yeah right. I was going to crack this case wide open. My wife, Mary, was saying I was spending too much time at work and not enough time with my family. I have two kids, you see. One of my boys just turned 16. Just a few days after his birthday, he got his permit. My other son is 10. He’s a slacker, doesn’t like to spend time with us. But that’s okay. I decided to take them to Dunkadoo, just a little vacation. My wife was thrilled about the idea, until I told her that the only thing for miles around was the old barely used army base. But we decided to drive my old Ford F150 up from Quebec and take a little vacation.
As we drove down the old dirt road main street into town, I noticed that there was no one here. The only people I saw were and old lady sitting on a porch and two police officers outside the station. We parked outside the only local hotel, and went to check in. $49 to check into a Quality Inn, now what does that tell you. We walked up the stairs into our room. It consisted of two beds, both queen sized. I opened the porch door looking down on the street and looked up. There were many large flying objects. “Hey Mary, come here and look at this,” I yelled into the hotel room. As we looked up together, she didn’t seem worried. “What do you think they are,” I asked. “Oh, nothing. Probably just some local oversized bats,” she said as she walked back into the hotel room. “Must be a Northern Canadian thing,” I thought to myself.
As I stood on the porch, the ‘bats’ started to make weird noises, almost like a crow. I relinquished the idea and went back into the hotel.
As I paced the room, I saw the bats fly towards the military base. BOOM, BOOM! The explosions echoed through the town as fire and smoke began to rise from the base. I rushed out of the room, and into the lobby where Mary took the kids to see if the hotel had a restaurant. “John!” she yelled from behind the counter. I jumped the counter just as another BOOM sounded in the distance. I looked over the counter and out onto the street, as a police officer ran towards the hotel from the outside. “Hey, you folks okay?” he yelled from the other side of the street. “Yeah, we’re fine, but what happened?” I yelled back. Just as I finished, a dark shape swooped down onto the street and lifted the officer into the air. I heard his yelling in the hotel room, right before I picked up the faint sound of a chainsaw revving up. As I ran out onto the street, I looked up. The officer fell to the snowy ground, with a large gash from one side of his body to the other. There was ripping in the deep wound, like he was cut. Blood spilled out of the wound, staining the peaceful white snow a dark red color. He was dead. I pulled out my sidearm, ready for any other sign of danger. I pulled out his standard Colt, checking to make sure it was loaded. Both guns held at my shoulder, ready to fire, I looked around. It was completely silent except for the faint ‘ca-caw’ from one of the creature.
I ran into the lobby and holstered the colt, keeping my standard 9mm ready. “Mary, get the kids. We’re leaving, now.” I said panting. “What’s going on John, tell me.” She said. “It’s nothing, just get the kids. Now!” I yelled. I didn’t like to yell, especially at my wife. But this was different. As she ran up the stairs, I picked up the phone behind the counter.
First, I dialed 911. No answer. Next I dialed my investigator’s office back in Quebec. “Hey John,” said my supervisor Donald. “What’s going on? How’s that vacation?” “Don, I have a major problem here in Dunkadoo. I just saw a police officer get pulled into the air and gutted with a chainsaw, and before that I saw some sort of military base go up in flames. Please, just send someone up here. The army, anything!” I said as calmly as I could manage. “John, are you okay? Have you been drinking tonight?” he asked. “DON! I haven’t been drinking, I haven’t been smoking anything, just get someone down here now!” I yelled. “The police station isn’t picking up, there’s no one in the streets, and the entire town is deserted! Get your people down here, now!” “…………….ok John, I’ll send 10 officers. They’re now in your command. They’ll be there in about two hours; they’re from the next town over. Just stay calm and in the hotel. Call me if you see what your up against and if you find anyone, tell them to take refuge in the hotel. We’ll get there as soon as we can. See you soon.” And with that, he hung up. The lights flickered at the sound of another explosion, and then went dead. “Honey, are you and the kids okay?” I yelled up the stairs. “Yes, we’re almost packed. Be down in a second.”
In the distance, I heard gun fire. I pulled out my 9mm and ran out into the street past the decapitated corpse of the unknown police officer. I ran through a back alley, stopping to look in every window I passed for any sign of human life. I darted into the next street over. There before a cellar door were six men, all armed to the teeth and firing rapidly. Around them sat at least twenty corpses, the same shape of that that carried away the officer. The were monkeys… with wings… and chainsaws. “What is going on,” I yelled just as the last shot was fired and the shooting ceased. “Who are you people, and what is going on in this town?” I yelled in anger. “Are you infected?” asked one of the men, a tall, hefty man with a French accent. “No, I’m not infected. What is going on, what are these things?” I asked. “If your not infected, then were did you come from?” he asked. “I’m investigator John Willey, of the Quebec Police Dept. If here investigating the disappearances and deaths of over 1500 people in the last 30 years. I’m here with my family in the Quality Inn over on the other street.” “… Ok then. Well, here’s your answer,” he said kicking a corpse with his boot. “These suckers came form the base over yonder. Genetic experiments and what not. Happened once before, but the government paid us all a handsome cash bounty to be quiet and all. They got loose again, killed a bunch of us before we even knew what was going on. Before the police could get the soldier’s help, they all got themselves turned. Oh, by the way, name’s Sam.” He explained. “Turned, what does that mean?” I asked. “It means bitten by one of these monkey things. The doc told us that the monkeys were probably infected, you know, experimented on, and they got loose. They grew wings and bit the soldiers in their sleep. Now the soldiers are walking around the base like zombies, and they don’t even know what day it is. They’re infected, and if they bite you, so are you. We have two of them in the basement, chained up. Our own friends, our neighbors, dying and infected, killing. It’s terrible, and we thought we could hold out until help arrives.” He finished.
“Wow……. This is just amazing. Help is on the way, exactly three hours away. Can you hold out that long?” “How many and from where?” he asked. “Ten police officers from the next town over, getting here as soon as they can. More are on the way from Quebec, possibly army or military of some sort.” I finished. “Yes, we can hold. But you better get you and your family into the cellar, they will be making another pass soon.”
“MARY!” I yelled. She ran over through the alley with my two sons, toting the entire luggage. “Get in the basement, Hon, drop the luggage. We can’t carry it with us.” I said. “No way, I have my entire wardrobe in there, and the kids have their extra pairs of shoes in there. They can’t go walking around without another pair of shoes, now can they?” “Forget about the shoes, let’s go. We need to-“
I was cut off by the screaming of one of the men next to me, as he was lifted high into the sky. The revving of a chainsaw started again, and the man’s bloody head feel to the ground. “AAAAAAWWWW!” My wife and kids yelled and screamed in union as the blood spilled out and stained the beaten, corpse ridden snow. I pulled by sidearm out and motioned my family into the basement. A force of thousands of the creatures prepared to dive into our group, just as the men retreated to the entrance of the basement and opened fire. Assault rifles, shotguns, pistols, revolvers, rifles, and machine guns all sounded in unison as dead bodies and wounded creatures littered the street, falling from the cool, crisp air, staining the snow. Chainsaws were seen on all of them, as the creatures prepared to decapitate the scared survivors. One of the creatures made it threw the line of fire, and it shoved the chainsaw through the man’s stomach, and as he screamed, I knew we were doomed. There were too many. There were not enough men to stop them. And the backup still had two hours before they could get here. And when they did, then what? There were only ten of them. And they had to drive right by the base just to get to town. They would be infected, or killed. They wouldn’t even make it into town. For the first time in my life, I was scarred. Scared of what might happen to my family, scared of what would happen to me, but what shocked me the most was that my own government would betray me, and leave me to die with experiments they created.
I ran into the basement with my family. It was lit by two lanterns, and in the corner sat two women and three children. Two of the children, who looked about 15, boasted an assault rifle and a shotgun. The men from the outside backed into the basement were still firing. Hot shells spit from the chambers, littering the floor and the stairs. “Where’s Bobby? Where’s Bobby?” yelled one of the women in the corner, jumping up. Sam looked the woman in the eye and shook her head. She started to weep and feel to the floor, “Why? Why did it have to be him? Why!” she wept. “Four of you left… plus the two kids… okay, if we can make it to the hotel, we can get to my truck and get out of here. Is there another way out of this basement?” I asked. “Um, yeah, I think. There’s a crawlspace that might lead to the well… behind the police station!” said Sam. “Okay, where is the police station?” I asked. “Two doors down from the hotel, to the left. We can make it!” Sam yelled in excitement. “Okay then people, get what you can and let’s go. Sam, how wide is the crawl space?” I asked. “Oh, I’d say about four feet clearance.” “That’s perfect. Where is the entrance?” I asked. “Right in the next room. Next to the… infected.” He said. “Oh, boy.” I said. “I was just in there, if you mean the bloody guys. They aren’t that bad. They’re chained up.” Mary said. “Hon, what happened to your arm?” I asked, noticing blood through her white sweatshirt. “Oh, I… scraped it on a nail on the way in here,” She concluded. Sam, not listening, said “okay then, let’s go.”
As we all walked into the infected room, the two men sat chained up to the wall on opposite sides of the room. They were withered and smelled rotten. They moaned at the sight of real people. “Okay, just ignore these two and climb through the space over there,” he gestured towards the far wall. “Okay, I’ll go first,” said Sam. He climbed through the space, followed by me, then my family, the women and children, and finally the other three men.
As we emerged at the other end, we climbed the shallow well, into the police station’s back yard. We all ran over to the truck, and piled in. The armed men got in the bed, and prepared for the worst. Guns ready, and women and children loaded in, I drove through the snowy, unplowed street towards the base and freedom. Sam, who sat in the front seat, said “Hey John, maybe we can get a helicopter from the base out of here. That would shorten the time and make our trip a little easier.” “Yes, but the monkeys can fly, and we’d be in a helicopter. That doesn’t make much sense, now does it?” I said. “That’s true. I feel a little stupid now.” As we continued down the road, we saw a burning row of vehicles.
Sam and I climbed out to investigate. “Oh no…” I heard Sam say. I looked a little closer. Three burning trucks full of soldiers, civilians, and cops. All dead. As I walked through the wreckage, I heard a soft crunching. I looked behind the last truck. There was a monkey. This was the first one close up, not shot, that I had seen. It was double the size of a normal monkey, with wings like an eagle. It had massive bloody talons stuck into the body of the soldier, torn apart by a combination of the sharp teeth, the chainsaw, and the jagged teeth. The man’s stiff expression was still imprinted on his face, a look of terror, shock, and pain. The beast overall was a completely shocking scene, there was also blood all over the snow and the body. Shots fired in the distance. I pulled out my sidearm, aimed and fired. A single shot ripped through the creatures head, spraying blood on the snow. It looked in shock, and pounced. It landed on me, knocking me over. It dug it’s talons into my stomach and twisted. I reached over to pull my sidearm from the snow, and kill the beast. He brought his rear leg down on my arm, crushing it. Then I remembered. I pulled the colt out of my holster and brought it to its head. I pulled the trigger twice, killing the beast. I pushed the thing off me, and got up, pain surging through my stomach. I ran back to the truck.
The truck sat in the same place I had left it, with a few little additions. At least 50 infected corpses littered the space between the truck and the base entrance, with more and more just piling out of the gate. Two men in the back of the truck lied dead, thrown off into the blood splattered snow. I didn’t even ask Sam what happened, I just got in the drivers seat and drove.
As I drove, I saw a sign that said ‘you’re now leaving Dunkadoo, please come back soon!’ “Yeah, right,” I thought. Up ahead I could just barely make out the shape of the surrounding mountains and as I drove towards the pass, I noticed men. They were soldiers! Hundreds of them! They had come. There were tanks and machine guns, and blockades, they had come to help! As I drove closer and closer, I became frantic, excited. We were going to live! When the truck got within thirty yards, one of the soldiers fired a shot in the air. I kept driving towards the blockade, and then the unthinkable happened.
The soldiers stood and stared at the truck, guns raised. And then the entire first row of soldiers behind the blockade fired at the truck. The windshield shattered, I saw Sam get shot, and then heard him yell. I felt warmth, and then I blacked out.
The next thing I remember was the hospital bed, warm and soft. There was a blinding bright light, and then I saw three men in white, and they were talking. I couldn’t understand them, but I was sure it was about me.
I woke up a week later, in a hospital bed. “Where am I,” I thought to myself. The nurse said I had been in a coma. I had been shot four times in the stomach; it was a miracle I had lived. “Nurse, how is my family? I want to see them. Please.” I weakly said. “I’m sorry Mr. Willey, but you’re not allowed to see anyone right now. You’re in quarantine.” She said. “Quarantine, but why…” Then it hit me. I remembered everything. The death, the violence, the monkeys… I knew it all. Once again, for the second time in my life, I was truly scared. My kids… Mary… Sam… They might be dead for all I know…
I fell back asleep, and woke three days later. There were two men outside my room. I looked around. I hadn’t gotten a good look at it before. It was all white tiling, with a small door and some viewing glass a few feet away from my bed. There were no windows. One of the men said something and pointed at me. The door opened with a loud hissing noise. They walked in.
“Mr. Willey, hello. We represent the General Baker of the Canadian Army. We-“ I stopped him. “You killed thousands of people in that town. Thousands who you will try to cover up and make it look like an accident. I will bring you down.” They looked at each other in unison, and then stared at me. “Mr. Willey, you are in no position to tell us what to do. We came out here to propose a peaceful agreement.” “Then I want my family and Sam all here with me when you do. I won’t agree to anything until then.” I stated. “Very well, you will get your loved ones.” They left the room, slamming the door behind them.
The next day, I awoke again to find my wife and two children in my room. I wept at the sight of my loved ones, remembering when I thought I was never going to see them again. They hugged me and we all cried. After about an hour, the men reentered the room. “Where is Sam?” I asked angrily. Sam is dead, killed when he was shot. I looked down at the bed, then up at my wife. “Fine, we’ll strike a deal.” I said.
“The military gave me three million dollars to be quiet, hush money for my silence.” John said. “Mr. Willey, this story is incredible. The court finds General Baker guilty of conspiracy, mass murder, conspiracy to commit murder, multiple capital offences, implied authority, and animal cruelty. This court sentences you to death by the electric chair. Court dismissed.” As John and Mary filed out of the courtroom and onto to Quebec streets, thousands happily cheered at their site. The flash of photographer’s cameras blinded the couple as they got into the court-appointed limo and off for a calm vacation on the coast. As Baker was led out of the building, he was booed and hissed at. He was escorted into a prison transport vehicle along with four escort vehicles and driven off to the jail; where he would later be fried.
As Mary sat at the sink of the Sheraton Inn in the East coast, John yelled “Be right back, I’m going to get some ice.” As Mary undressed and prepared for her shower, she looked into the wide sink mirror. Her body ached, and she was lightheaded. A pain in her stomach made her look down. Hair had started to push out of her skin, and her back ached. She turned around to get a better angle. Her spine cracked, she screamed in pain at the sight of the juts sticking out of her back. She cried as her fingers became sharp talons and knobs pocked out of her back. As they grew larger, she knew what was happening. The bite she had carefully hidden during the examination, it was taking effect. She became delirious, and cried out once again, still delirious. She fainted on the bathroom floor.
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