Ahmed stood just inside the tunnel entrance, the fading light making it easier to see. The creature’s eyes were accustomed to the dark, and he squinted as the remaining minutes of sunlight faded.
Darkness approached.
Ahmed scanned the valley, looking over the ridgelines, the perimeter walls of cliffs that imprisoned those that dwelt there. No movement, nothing of interest.
Ahmed’s eyes shifted, gazing to the ground below, scanning the valley floor. It was flat, vacant of life.
A few scattered shrubs, even less trees.
Rocks, sand, nothingness — the valley was empty.
The creature allowed his eyes to look farther, into the distance, at the village. From this vantage point, the village was but a speck. Ahmed could see little movement, but he knew they were there. Ahmed could feel them. He could smell them. He could nearly taste them.
The village sat in the dead center of the massive valley, isolated in a region of utter decay. No way in, no way out. The creatures didn’t allow such things, not in their territory.
Ahmed kept still, as if pondering something. He could feel their hearts beating, could hear their whispers, could see their shapes. The humans below couldn’t possibly know their nearing fate, and Ahmed couldn’t help but grin at the notion of their upcoming surprise.
Ahmed looked to the sky, seeing nothing but darkness. No birds overhead, no wind, no clouds to blot out the moon. Enough light to see, for the next few nights the moon would be bright in the sky.
Just enough for the humans to see their demise.
Ahmed looked back to the valley, the village. He watched as the dark shapes came and went, entering their barren homes, getting themselves ready for a peaceful night’s sleep.
In Khost, sleep was often better than reality, dreams and even nightmares better than living day to day.
Their refuge would come soon, and no matter if it was death or sleep that took them, it would be better than this.
There was no longer any livestock, hadn’t been for many years. They’d long since been snatched away. Even small animals hadn’t lasted long since the change, only reptiles and insects remained. They dared not scamper, dare not crawl. They remained motionless, what few there were, each life-form feeling this night would be different. They made themselves small, kept hidden away, and waited.
Ahmed looked to the village again. He stared deeply as if attempting to recall a time long ago. He remembered little of what once was a familiar place, a few scattered images mostly.
The village that once was Ahmed’s home was now foreign to him. There was no connection — that was lost long ago. There remained no humanity in these creatures, and they viewed the humans below as nothing of significance, until now.
The village was rubble now, two decades of decay. It consisted of run down rock homes, small buildings with makeshift roofs and open windows. Few had doors, most openings were covered with a drape of some sort. The roads were sand and pebbles, worn and hard to travel. Although extensive, the village was on the brink of being no more. Not from the creatures, but from the living conditions, the lack of updates, the deplorable conditions. It was a surprise the humans had lasted this long, but then again, that was a human trait that always stuck — the will to survive.
Ahmed remained crouched, lowering his front paw, scraping the surface of the warm sand. He dug his long nails deep into it, allowing sand to fill his grasp, then letting it fall out. Ahmed then extended his disfigured fingers, reaching out and allowing his nails to clickity-clack on a nearby rock. The sound was sharp, though not loud. Despite this, it was heard throughout the miles of cave. Ahmed clicked his nails, faster and faster. It was as if the creature were in ecstasy, which was indeed the case.
Ahmed closed his eyes, feeling their hearts, their breathing, their soft footsteps hundreds of meters away. He soaked it in, allowed himself to peer into their souls for a brief moment, allowing himself to overtake them. It was an easy feat, and Ahmed felt no sympathy, no remorse for what was about to happen.
Ahmed opened his eyes, blinking rapidly.
Four hundred and twelve, the creature thought.
Ahmed could sense the humans, and knew their numbers without seeing, without counting. Their presence was more of a feeling than anything, Ahmed’s awareness finding new heights. The creature was aware of all things alive in his domain, and more importantly, he could affect them adversely.
Soon now, the creature that once was Ahmed thought. He waited patiently, the last bit of sunlight fading gently away.
Darkness came swiftly.
83
The years had passed, over two decades worth, and the villagers understood they’d have to rely only on what crops they could grow, what little plant life they could eat. Times were tough in Khost. They were even tougher in this valley.
There were a few winters, when it got really desperate, that the people ate one another. It was rare, but it happened. Many of the villagers starved, many more died of poor health.
And some were simply taken.
Strangely, the creatures didn’t seem to need to eat. Not flesh, not plants, at least. The villagers were only menaced with if they ventured too far, if they tried to escape. Otherwise, they remained unmolested. Still, it was an odd thing — what did the creatures of the cave eat?
The compound had advanced their cell structure. Normally, cells constantly multiply, constantly rebuild. These once humans no longer needed nutrients, for every cell that died or weakened, there were ten healthy ones to replace it. It was if the creatures fed off their own bodies, eaters of themselves. Yet none died of starvation.
Regardless, there were occasions when one did die. At first, these were the ones that couldn’t handle the alteration to their DNA. The compound had mutated them too rapidly. For others, the compound advanced them into a state of primal frenzy, causing them to act savagely.
Hence how they killed the Soviet Spetsnaz. Hence how they had killed other intruders over the years.
But the ones hit hardest by the chemical tore into others, the weaker ones, the ones who had not yet changed. This caused a slaughter of absolute depravity, a metamorphosis of insanity and pure animal instincts advanced them to a state of eternal carnage. Had it not been for the original team of Spetsnaz who dared enter, the creatures might have eventually killed one another off. But the intruders changed things, caused them to bond for a common cause.
It also caused them to fall back under the ranks of one.
Regardless of everything, the creatures lusted for blood, for death, every waking moment. They had long since killed the majority of animal life in the valley. They had long since picked off most of the reptiles too — those that had not morphed with them, that is.
They had even ventured out, sought out blood in neighboring lands. Their sole longing was to kill every living thing they came into contact with. And had it not been for the threat of Ahmed, his wrath, they would have slaughtered the villagers long ago. But Ahmed kept them in line. He had control, and few dared challenge him.
It happened last night, the night before their release. The creatures felt Ahmed would allow them out, allow them to kill, and some grew impatient. Second and third generations of these creatures were coming of age, strong and brutal — a worthy challenge. One tried. Tried to challenge the leader.