Reptillian

I.
The alley was dark. It was pitch black, there was no moon or stars to offer any light. Something was standing in a doorway. Something with red eyes, that shone in the darkness. A small puff of steam rose from a couple inches below the eyes. Something was breathing. A woman, dressed in a black suit, appeared at the mouth of the alleyway.
“Hello,” she called, shattering the silence. Something with red eyes in the darkness shifted, and spoke back.
The voice was scratchy and deep, almost reptilian. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. Um—will it hurt?”
“It’s possible, my dear, but you don’t have anything to worry about,” Something stepped up to her, encircled her in scaly arms, “Do not be afraid,” She felt a hand come to her chest and push through the suit, to her skin. She felt claws, as cold as ice, slip into her left breast, into her flesh. She felt a hand reach inside her chest, and close around something, taking it out. The pain should have been incredible, but she felt nothing. She was still alive when claws pulled her heart from her chest, still seeing, watching as something raised her heart to his mouth, and watching her heart disappear into darkness. And then she felt an enormous sense of relief. She felt herself fall, and then everything faded and she was gone.
II.
“She’s most definitely dead,” I said, flipping the body back over. We were in a bright sun-light alleyway, off of Cort St.
“Entry wound on left breast, goes towards heart, and her heart’s missing, I think someone else killed her,” My partner Detective Cliff said.
“Homicide. Definitely. I think we should—” I was interrupted by Joey, from forensics.
“We found scratches around the wound, and a scale inside, that’s being analyzed now. We think someone used a surgical tool to cut it and dig flesh out, because the cuts are so precise. We have identified her as Katherine Porter, a prominent businesswoman who works, I mean, worked for SciTech, and according to her doctor and psychiatrist, she suffers from clinical depression, we think she organized this. Also, there’s traces of saliva and blood on the ground which shows that the killer, um,” he shuddered, “ate her heart,” I felt bile rise in my throat, but I forced myself to stay calm. I was a professional, for god’s sake, I couldn’t get queasy.
“OK, we’re going back to the station, get back to me on that scale, test the saliva too,” I said to Joey and walked over to my car. Cliff and I got in and we sped away from the crime scene.
III.
The advertisement read, “660 Fortuny Dr., Seminar on how to make millions, 4:30 on the dot, doors close at 4:31. It was astonishing, really, how many people went. They were trusting an unknown stranger to give them a seminar on making money, and not inviting them for some ulterior motive. Stupid, stupid people.
As the advertisement read, the doors closed at 4:31. There were six people there, three men and women, sitting in a large warehouse on metal fold-out chairs. There was a long chalkboard on wheels in the front of the room.
Something was standing in shadow, behind the people, waiting. Someone yelled out, “When’s this going to start?” Something stepped out of the darkness behind him, and whispered in his ear.
“Now,” and then something green and scaly leaped onto him. Soon, there was blood and flesh everywhere. And there was screaming.
IV.
My phone rang. It was loud and annoying, cutting into my thoughts. It was the receptionist. Her voice was shaky and cracked.
“Um—Mr. Dane? I think you’d better come down here. Hurry,” I ran to the stairs and hurried down them, taking them three steps at a time. The receptionist, who had been calm when a gun was held against her head when she had been taken hostage, was now worried. That made me more worried then I’ve ever been before. When I reached the front lobby, there was a man on the stone tile floor. Blood was everywhere. He had evidently crawled from outside. He looked up at me and spoke in a very unsteady voice.
“Att-ttack-kked. By a g-g-giant lizard. S-c-c-ariest thing ever. It k-k-k-killed P-p-porter,” he paused, to take a breath, and I spoke.
“Do you need a doctor? What do you need?”
“N-n-no doctor. No t-t-time. Six hun-n-n-ndred and sixt-t-ty F-f-f-fortuny. Take h-h-heavy weapond-d-d-ry. D-d-d-don’t wor-r-ry a-b-b-bout m-m-e. Just g-g-go,” His eyes closed and he died, right there on the floor. It was only then that I recognized him. Joey, from forensics. I reached into my pocket and called Cliff.
V.
At 660 Fortuny, something green and scaly was cleaning up the blood. It wiped it’s mouth with a rag, and continued to mop the floor. It would have another seminar tomorrow, and it needed to clean up for it.
Suddenly, it’s ears twitched, it had heard something. It ran up to the window, almost galloping, and peering out the bloodstained pane of glass it saw two men get out of a brown toyota car, both holding guns. It licked its lips, and ran to a shadow, to wait.
VI.
I was carrying an AK-47 machine gun, technically illegal, but when you’re associated with the police force, you get to bend the rules a little. Cliff had a Remington Twelve-Gauge shotgun loaded with buck shot. When fired the capsule explodes, sending little balls into the victim.
It was a warehouse. We knocked at the door, then with no reply, I fired a short burst into the lock, shattering it. I swung the door open, and we both leaped inside. Blood and flesh everywhere. I couldn’t take it. I threw up onto the concrete floor.
Something reached out of the darkness and grabbed Cliff, a gigantic green arm. I heard the shotgun discharge, and horrible ripping sounds. Cliff was hurled back into my sight, a bloody hole gaping in his chest. He gurgled for a moment and then died.
I was so angry then, I couldn’t believe this was happening. Which is why I took a kind of destructive way out of this nightmare. I shot my AK, spinning around in all directions, blasting everywhere. About halfway through my rotation, I heard a kind of squishing noise, of bullets hitting flesh. I stopped immediately and looked to where I heard it.
Something staggered out of the darkness. It was tall, ten feet at least, and muscular. It was green and scaly. A gigantic lizard. Two bullet trails were drawn across it’s scales, dripping stickily with green blood.
It coughed, and something small and green popped out of its mouth. Suddenly it ran towards me, and I had no time to react. I was dead, surely. But instead of tearing me apart, it wrenched my mouth open and forced the green thing into my mouth and down my throat. The taste was horrible, iron and salt.
It then looked at me, with an expression that was almost human. It fell and hit the floor.
There was pain then, like no other pain I have experienced before, in my stomach. It was hot and blinding. My eyesight turned red and then black.
VII.
I awoke on the warehouse floor. From my point of view all I could see was Cliff. He was still dead.
I felt strange. I felt stronger and taller then I had been before. I looked down at myself and saw green scales and sharp claws. Oh God. I had become the thing. I stood up and almost fell back down. I wasn’t used to being this tall, and my legs were much too powerful. I looked over myself again, wanting my old body back, drowning in the concept of this new life. It sickened me, thinking about how I would have to live.
Then I felt something. In the pit of my stomach. A craving. For a heart. A human heart.