Behind the porthole, Dylan and Maggie watched the scene with almost palpable tension. The bony creature, which had stopped clawing at the valve, slowly turned its head toward the cluster of trees. The tall prairie grass swayed gently, thick enough to conceal something but not enough to hide the slightest movement.
It remained motionless for a long moment, wary. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Then, suddenly, there was movement.
Quick. Fluid. Almost imperceptible—the kind of shiver one might dismiss as a mere breeze. But Dylan, Maggie… and especially the creature, knew otherwise.
Impatience overtook the bony being. Its ear-splitting shriek tore through the air, so powerful that Dylan and Maggie threw themselves to the ground, hands clamped over their ears.
The porthole exploded.
Shards of glass rained around them, screeching against the metal floor. Neither dared to lift their head. Outside, the creature's scream shifted into a higher, more desperate cry. A struggle—wild and panicked, as if it were fighting for its life.
Dylan, belly pressed to the floor, felt his heart hammering violently. A shrill hissing, like tracer bullets, sliced the air above them.
The valve was pierced.
Dylan exchanged a panicked glance with Maggie, but she remained frozen, breath shallow. Every second stretched, every sound grew more threatening.
Then, silence.
A silence so heavy it seemed to crush their shoulders. Dylan didn't dare move, his forehead against the cold floor.
"What… was that?" he finally whispered, barely audible.
Maggie inhaled slowly, lifting her head just enough to peer through the shattered porthole. The darkness outside seemed deeper now… but something still moved.
"I don't know…" She paused, swallowing hard. "But it just won."
A shiver raced down Dylan's spine. Whatever had killed the bony creature was still out there. And one way or another, they'd soon find out what it was.
---
They stayed on the ground for several minutes, muscles taut, straining to hear the slightest sound. But outside, everything had fallen eerily silent.
Maggie moved first. Slowly, cautiously, she rose, her hands brushing shards of glass scattered across the floor. Every motion was measured, every breath held. Dylan watched her, pulse throbbing in his temples.
But when she fully lifted her head, he saw her expression shift. Her eyes widened, lips trembling. Horror petrified her in place.
Dylan's heart stalled, as if struck in the chest. Yet he felt nothing. Not yet. Only a cold, numbing wave of adrenaline.
"What is it?" he murmured, throat dry.
Maggie opened her mouth, but no clear sound emerged. "The… the valve…" She swallowed painfully. "It's—"
Dylan didn't wait. He pushed himself up, following her gaze.
What he saw stole his breath.
The valve was unrecognizable. The perforations riddling the red metal were anything but normal. The holes were too wide, too gaping. These weren't bullet impacts. Nothing ordinary. It was as if something had torn through the structure with inhuman violence, unrestrained.
"Holy hell…" he swore inwardly, words failing him. What kind of creature could do this?
His gaze slid to one of the gaping openings. Black blood oozed slowly, pooling darkly on the floor. Morbid curiosity took hold. He adjusted his position and tilted his head for a better view.
What he saw froze his veins.
The creature was still there. Crouched—or rather, collapsed—pierced by hundreds of blades… bones. Pale, jagged spikes jutted from every angle. It had lost an arm, but its body still trembled, twitching sporadically. Alive, but not for long.
Dylan's hands shook. His stomach twisted. The urge to vomit rose, burning, but he choked it down with a shudder. He tore his eyes away and saw Maggie still frozen, locked onto the grisly scene.
She finally turned to him, eyes wide, a glint of moisture at their corners. "Dylan… our bullets didn't even scratch it, right? Right?"
He bit his lower lip, jaw clenched. His gaze returned to the impaled creature. "We need to finish it."
Maggie didn't hesitate. She sprang up, as if she'd already thought it through long before he'd spoken.
"We have to be quick, or…" She trailed off, breath hitching. Horror twisted her features. "Or that thing might come back."
Dylan nodded. But deep down, another thought surfaced.
If this thing was still alive despite this… then what had impaled it? And more importantly—
Dylan lingered, staring at the dying creature. The bone blades buried in its body sank deeper, almost imperceptibly, as if alive. Black blood continued to seep in thin rivulets, spreading into a viscous pool around it.
"Was it still out there?"
He had no idea where the attacker had gone. Had it retreated to the woods? Melted into the shadows, lying in wait? The uncertainty coiled in his gut.
Either way, they couldn't stay. The valve was ruined. Already rusted, its front obliterated, it offered no refuge. He didn't even know how they'd lasted this long inside.
Dylan edged toward the gaping holes, scanning the darkness. No trace of the attacker. Only suffocating silence.
He nudged the rear door open. Stepped out, footsteps nearly soundless. The air was cold, thick with a metallic tang.
He approached the impaled creature. Each step weighed heavier on his breath. How could something inflict this where their bullets had failed?
Up close, the creature looked even more monstrous. Even hunched, it nearly matched his height. Dylan, at five-ten, felt small before this mass of bone and flesh contorted in agony.
The white blades piercing it… He froze. A fleeting thought drew a bitter smirk.
"Made of bone… impaled by bone. How ironic."
He crept closer, eyes locked on the creature's head. Three projectiles embedded in its skull, precisely through the eye sockets. As if the attacker had aimed deliberately.
A shiver crawled down his spine.
If whatever did this can target weak points… we're screwed.
But there was more. Something else caught his eye. He crouched slightly, brushing one of the bone blades. The contact was cold, harder than expected. His heart skipped.
He'd seen this before. Not these exact bones, but something similar. A vicious design. Once embedded in flesh, the projectiles anchored themselves, slowly burrowing deeper over time, shredding tissue from within.
Dylan swallowed. His gaze returned to the twitching creature, its ragged, uneven breaths.
"This thing…" he thought, disgust mingling with morbid fascination.
"Dylan… why aren't you killing it?"
Maggie's voice snapped him back. He nearly flinched. For a moment, he'd forgotten she was there.
He suddenly realized something. This creature knew. The entity that attacked it had never intended to return. It knew the bony thing wouldn't survive.
"Come look," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear.
Maggie approached, axe in hand. Her expression was tense but resolved. "I'm here. Why aren't you killing it?"
Dylan smirked humorlessly. No joy. Just bitterness. A silent laugh trapped behind trembling lips.
"This thing…" His voice nearly cracked. "It's dying slowly… Let it suffer, the bastard."
Maggie stayed quiet, studying the creature as it whimpered weakly, immobilized.
"So we just watch it die?" she asked.
Dylan took a deep breath. Part of him wanted to end it. The other part—
"We wait," he murmured. "See how long it lasts."
But deep down, it wasn't just cruelty. He wanted to know. To understand the creatures in this world. What could kill them. That was the question they needed answered to survive.