Monstersona


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Chloe Spencer
 
 
 Tiny Ghost Press
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Copyright © 2022 Chloe Spencer 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
 
 No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
 
 ISBN:
 E-book 978-1-7399834-9-9
 Paperback 978-1-915585-00-4
 Hardcover 978-1-915585-01-1
 
 
 Cover artwork by: Alex Moore
 Additional graphics supplied by: Freepik
 
 To find out more about our books visit www.tinyghostpress.com and sign up for our newsletter.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 For any girl who ever felt like her trauma made her a monster. 
 Keep surviving. Keep thriving. And never let them win.
 
 
 
 Content Warning
 
 Monstersona is a sci-fi horror story which centers on giant monsters and trauma. Included within this story are depictions of gore, death (including parental death), strong language, kidnapping, as well as physical violence and gun violence. Much of the story also focuses on the onset of PTSD and those symptoms, thoughts, and experiences. There are also brief discussions of biphobia and sexual assault. 
 
 
 
 Day 10 - Early Morning
 
 THE IRON CHAIN SLIPS through my bloody hands. Carefully, I tighten my grip around the cleanest edge and slowly begin to wrap the metal strands around Aspen’s sleeping body. I don’t know how long these are going to hold her—or if they’re going to hold her at all. Time is of the essence here, and I don’t have much of it. 
 I take a step back to examine my handiwork. All I’ve done is wrap the chain around her torso and wrists. I don’t even have a lock to secure it with. My only option is to tie a knot. I crouch down to try again, but the ends are too short; I won’t be able to tie them unless I unravel some of the chain. 
 I look at Aspen, still sleeping in the chair. Blood is splattered across her face like sun-kissed freckles. Her blond hair is sticky and stained crimson, yet she isn’t as soaked as I am—from my head to my toes, I am covered in the reeking iron stench of the two men that were slaughtered. Waves of nausea overcome me, and I gag, clapping my hand over my mouth to stop the bile from escaping. My head is reeling and my vision blurs with tears as I struggle to regain control. 
 Outside, Tigger paws at the door and barks urgently, demanding to be let inside. But I can’t let him in—it’s far too dangerous. I stare at Aspen for a few moments before finally turning my back to her. Laying on the table in front of me is a small syringe, filled with a strange neon-orange liquid. It glows in the darkness of the shed. The syringe itself is surprisingly unthreatening; short and stubby, like the ones they use for the flu vaccines. But that liquid… I’ve never seen anything that screams “DANGER!” louder than this. 
 Yet, I have no choice. 
 It’s either her or me. 
 With the syringe in hand, I turn back to Aspen, and I jump back. She’s awake, staring at me with those unsettling forest-green eyes. She grimaces and tugs at her restraints. Huh. I was worried these chains I found in the shed would be too brittle and break, but it looks like I need to have more confidence in my knot-tying skills. Aspen’s body shakes with fear, yet her voice remains firm as she speaks. 
 “Riley. You need to put that down.” 
 “I…” My voice trails off. Tears roll down my cheeks, and my panicked heart flutters in my chest. I’m dizzy and breathless and terrified all at once, and I’m so tired of feeling this way. 
 “Riley,” she says again, her voice coarse, her tone terse. “You have no idea what that thing does.” 
 “It’s supposed to fix you.” 
 “You have no idea what it does. You’re just repeating what they said.” She grunts and tugs at her restraints again. The betrayal in her voice is reflected so clearly in her gaze. It kills me. “You’re trusting them over me? Really?” 
 “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” 
 The terror on her face dissipates for a moment. It’s replaced with an icy-cold expression. 
 She says, in a low whisper, “I did what I had to do.” 
 I shake my head over and over again. Images flash through my mind: their faces caved in, their skulls a soup of blood and flesh and teeth. We had to protect each other, but not like that. Anything but that. 
 “They begged for mercy, Aspen.” 
 “They didn’t want mercy. They wanted an opportunity. I can’t believe you would even say that to me. Like I’m the bad guy.” She wriggles against her restraints. “You think I’m the bad guy now?” 
 “N-no. I-I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” 
 “I’m gonna give you one last chance.” Her eyes burn into me. “Put it down, Riley.” 
 I shake my head. Tighten my grip on the syringe. “I can’t.” 
 Tigger’s barking grows louder and louder outside, shaking the walls. I take a step toward Aspen, and she shrinks, her eyes wide. She stares at me, her mouth gaping open, and then her expression darkens. By now, I’m all too familiar with that expression, and I can’t help but edge backward. She smirks. When I do muster up the strength to creep forward