The Tunnel

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“His face looks like hamburger meat. His nose has been ripped from his face. Ears shredded off. Eyes pulled… no, gouged from their sockets. Half his fingers are gone…”

Jeff Hunter stood from the destroyed figure that lay in a dried puddle of blood upon a plastic tarp on the floor in the center of the converted barn. The air smelled of blood and death, dust, and farm machinery. “Rival cartel didn’t do this. A chainsaw sure as hell couldn’t have done this. This was something else.”

“So, you believe him? That he and his men were attacked by… by monsters?!” Miguel scoffed in anger.

He flew across the room to the metal folding chair where Julio sat. The poor man’s face was painted in dried blood and streaks of sweat and filth. He trembled in fear and in anticipation of what would surely be the torturous death that awaited him. “What did you say they were? The things that killed everyone but you? Twelve of my best diggers? Albino apes? Ghost apes?”

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