You wipe the blood from your eyes with the back of your hand. The sticky substance smell of iron and for some reason sets off feelings of panic and
fear in the back of your spine, even if the blood is not yours.
As you look around, colours of maroon and yellow penetrate you eyes. At first you think it might be some of the blood still clinging to your retina,
but soon you realise the factory is coloured with decay. Rusted machinery tower around you, far taller than they where a moment ago. Some of them have
pulsating patches of yellow flesh, randomly scattered growing on and in the machinery like tumours.
A smell of rotting flesh mixed with machine oil now fills the room, reeking of it, and at the same time the rhythmic sound of metal hitting flesh
makes a sickening blunt repetetive noise.
You turn to look at your co-workers who have turned towards you. Their eyes appear to be black mate spheres, coldly evaluating you. Their mouths no
longer have lips and the bare flesh of their faces are exposed. Their teeth glint with the shine of metal forming a wide ironclad grin.
The closest one, the one you once called Jim, looks at you and hisses;
"You can sssseeeee!!!"
You stumble backwards as they move closer, hesitantly at first, but then with a sense of purpose. Your heel trips on the decapitated corpse of Henry
and you fall backwards, landing in the large pool of blood seeping from him. Terrified you crawl away as fast as you can, slipping and sliding in the
blood as you can feel the creatures close in. The machines keep pounding in your ear and the smell of the blood and rotting flesh and oil is all
around you.
And as you feel a sharp object pierce your shoulder, pinning you to the floor, you start to scream. But even as the pain overtakes you and the sound
of your own screams almost deafens you, you can still hear that hissing voice whisper;
"You must not sssseeeee…"
Tetragramaton is a four letter word.