1st Page of Horror Novel

Two Scientists build warring religious cults around a demonic drug

Broken glass littered the nightclub, sharp crunching sounds under his bare feet. Even if the drug hadn’t made him numb to pain, his skin was so calloused it didn’t matter. Disembodied voices mixed with the smell of fresh blood, swirled with sulphurous gunsmoke and wrapped around him, hugged tight and warm by the terrorized thoughts of the wounded and the distorted echoes of the recently deceased.
From floor to ceiling gallons of blood pooled up and dripped off every surface, smeared around like a toddler’s painting, taking turns playing hide-and-seek on the flashing squares of the illuminated dance floor.

What’s that song?

“Sensaaaation” Michael Jackson sang from one of the few unbroken speakers.

Bodies lay limp and contorted, some limbs were torn off. Savagley separated from their rightful owners. Others were just crushed and frayed at the ends. The carnage made his thoughts drift to the experiments he oversaw on the poor little rats at his old job. He had a moment of doubt and sympathy, then a long low crack of thunder shook the building, rattled the metal siding. The powerful sharp energizing smell of ozone.

A wounded man was trying to crawl away, he begged, I have children, please God, begged to the wrong God. An impossibly fast blur of movement, a bare foot descending its heel like Judgement and stomping his skull like one of Gallagher’s watermelons. A sharp snap and a wet splattering sound. Soft pink coiled cortex mashed up with jagged bone shards, all glistening bloody and beautiful under the different colored lights.

“Don’t stop, till you get enough” Michael Jackson continued

A moment later he licked the brains clean from his sharp bloody oversized teeth, and then his eyes tore open. His whole body was cold with sweat. He woke up just before his alarm, he always did. Waking to a mostly dark room, with just a tiny streak of the golden street lights shining through the curtains to orient him back into the waking world. The taste of iron still on his tongue like the dream had left a stain. He had some weird ones recently, sometimes there was a frightening demon woman with swollen bug-like eyes. Too many eyes. He was scared of her, and beginning to fear for the man who dreamt such things.