The Shuddering

crumpled hood, as though something heavy had landed on it—but there was nothing there. The music played on while one of his headlights flickered, then cut out. His heart thumped in his chest beneath the rush of adrenaline, but his reflexes were still dulled by the alcohol that tainted his bloodstream. Impaired judgment had him weighing the fact that his truck hood was wrecked over the shadow figure that loomed in the distance. He’d made a move toward the pickupwhen he was shoved backward as though something had lunged at his chest, the air rushing from his lungs, the seat of his jeans skidding across the ground.
    He froze, stunned, unsure of what had just happened.
    Something leaned into his line of sight, but he couldn’t make out what it was. The headlight shone behind it, throwing the figure into silhouette, its gaunt body nothing but bones and sharp angles. The devil , he thought. Lucifer, in the flesh. Panicked, he began to crawl backward, the snow burning the exposed skin of his hands. But before he got more than a few feet away, he bumped into something behind him, something that emitted a deep, rumbling growl. The thing in front of him pulled its arm back, the silhouette of a giant four-fingered hand held aloft, the palm shovel-like with thin, rangy digits jutting out. Clyde opened his mouth to scream as the hand swiped through the air, black talons catching the light, but he gurgled instead. His eyes widened as hot blood bubbled from his neck. His hands flew to his throat, trying to keep the blood from spilling, but it poured across his fingers.
    He fell onto his back, gasping for breath, staring at the house just a handful of yards away, a house that was safe and warm. Just then, he saw Pete casually step across the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee held in his hand, oblivious to what was going on just outside. Clyde reached out, praying to God that his friend would sense that something was wrong, that he would stop to look out the window. But he didn’t.
    As soon as Pete disappeared from view, the two…things that loomed above Clyde stared down at him, and while he couldn’t see what they looked like, the distinct scent of urine over the hot metallic aroma of his own blood sent him into a panic. He tried to scramble to his feet despite his injuries, but one of them lunged forward, its teeth tearing into Clyde’s shoulder. He choked on hisblood as he tried to cry out, his efforts drowned by the wail of guitars, the banging of drums. His entire left side felt like it was on fire. He rolled onto his injured shoulder in a feeble attempt to cool the burn with the snow as he clawed at the ground, trying to skitter away from his attacker. But as soon as he turned away, he felt a viselike grip catch his leg. With a single blink, Clyde stared toward the house, trying to scream but unable to catch his breath, praying for salvation, sure this couldn’t really be happening. And then he felt the ground slide out from under him as he was jerked backward, the cabin suddenly gone as he was pulled into the trees.
    Pete couldn’t hear anything above Megadeth’s wail, so when he finally saw the creature standing in the mouth of the kitchen, it was far too late for him to run. The skeletal thing filled the entire doorway, leaning down to duck through the threshold, its spiderlike arms bending at unspeakable angles as it pulled itself into the room. Clyde’s lidless travel mug slipped through Pete’s fingers and crashed to the floor, hot coffee sloshing across his boots. Despite the monster’s size, the thing’s height was far from its most disturbing attribute. Pete choked on the air in his throat as he stared at its black marble-like eyes sunken deep into an overly large head, an impossibly wide mouth full of thick, yellow teeth inside its skull. Impossible , he thought. He tried to breathe and cry out all at once, backing himself into a corner as the thing advanced snorting through a nonexistent nose at the scent of freshly brewed coffee, a scent that mingled with the blood smeared across the monster’s face and arms.
    Pete pressed himself against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut, the most arbitrary thought careening through his brain: Jurassic Park . It had been his absolute favorite movie as a kid. Hehad been so obsessed with it, his parents hadn’t had the heart to return the VHS tape back to the rental place, and after months of late fees, they bought it instead. Now the adult Pete stood glued to the