The Bullet

An RV under the star filled night sky

By Shane Hibdon

This story contains substance use.

The rain fell steadily, soaking the ground and all things it touched. From inside the RV they could hear the droplets pounding against the roof. It was a steady sound that the television could not drown out, especially for the occasional thunder that struck.

“BEEP! BEEP!”, someone’s horn was honking for attention.

Willy looked towards his second TV screen; there he could see the images from his many cameras. It was Hunter, his friend, drudging his massive Dodge truck through the rainfall and into the muddy yard.

Hunter was Willy and Dana’s good mate, more so Willy’s companion. They had met one fateful night in jail with the latter assuming the other was also a veteran. From behind bars, they had become close and once on the outside the two began a friendship.

Willy opened the door of his white and blue RV, stepping onto his wooden porch he revealed his thickly frame. His hair was wild just like his nickname, eyes hazel, and he wore a thick short beard that was pointy just below the chin. Hunter turned off his lights, stepped out of his tall truck, and waved at his comrade. As he gingerly walked and hopped through the mud you could see he was athletically built. He too donned a beard, but his more refined as he brushed it regularly.

“You got the yayo?” asked Wild Bill.

“Some cocaine that’ll make you go insane,” said Hunter.

The two stepped inside the RV and Willy motioned to Hunter to sit at the desk in the right corner. Once situated he began to weigh the white substance then cut it up into fine particles.

“Dana, will you roll me a J?” asked Willy.

A petite woman stepped from behind the sliding door that led into a small bedroom. She had a cheerful smile and had a naturally pleasant demeanor about her. Her mood was light like the color of her hair, but she was fierce in her own way.

“Yeah sure,” answered Dana.

Time passed by as the heavy rain pounded the top of the RV. Willy intensely played ‘Call of Duty’ online, Hunter chopped and made lines of cocaine, and Dana astutely rolled marijuana joints. The three listened to old country western songs that played on the RV’s PA system, it was a good night, one that they had planned for all week.

They first smoked Dana’s perfectly rolled joint. Each taking deep hits before passing to another. The high was pleasant as it came from reputable dispensaries from Oklahoma. Once it was cashed, they each remarked on its quality.

“Come do a hit,” said Hunter.

“Is it alright if I do one?” asked Dana to Willy.

“Yeah, go ahead. Have some fun, I’m going to also,” said Willy.

After Dana split the line in two, she snorted the powder into each nostril.

“Wow! That’s some dope shit,” she said.

Wild Bill then took a seat at the desk and leaned forward to do a line.

“Remember, this cocaine is insane bro,” remarked Hunter who then took a hit using his knife.

Willy took a deep breath, closed one nostril, then took a hard hit of cocaine. It was so pure that it burned as it went up. He then quickly leaned back into the seat with his head looking up as he held his head with his hands.

“Hits hard, dudn’t it?” said Hunter.

Willy, still reeling from its strength, let out a breath of air and murmured in agreement.

Hunter took a step close to him and patted Willy on the shoulder, “I’m gonna grab us some beers. You want Corona or Pacifico?”

“Oh man… I’ll take a Corona and grab Dana a Pacifico, please,” said Willy.

“Thanks Hunter,” said Dana cheerfully.

After the strong drugs weed and powerful cocaine Hunter had almost forgotten it was raining. He tilted his cap down and carefully stepped down the porch’s steps and out into the yard. It was dark out and there was no light except for a dim one on the RV that was flickering out.

Cover art for The Bullet with the text Pleasure, Alien, Baddies an epic anthology by Shane Hibdon

Just before he got to the ice chest his foot dropped lower than it should have. Hunter looked down curiously as the sudden drop startled him a bit. As he observed a crevice, he raised his foot out to get a better view. The on and off RV light barely revealed that it was a footprint, but its was no ordinary mark. Where the heel was supposed to be it sharply curved into a point and the toes were more like long thick fingers with claw-like nails.

“The fuck,” said Hunter out loud.

He stepped back a short distance and looked around. Where the ice chest was it was especially muddy, however, the ground nearby was grassier, and no other footprints could be seen. There was just this one spot, and it gave him an odd feeling. He stood there in the steady rain, waiting for some kind sign or action, but nothing followed.

Hunter then relaxed himself, shook it off as some kind of animal that he must not be familiar with, and walked back to the ice chest to grab three beers. Two Coronas, one Pacifico is what held with his arm against his built chest. He then quickly began to walk back towards the door of the RV when he suddenly got a chill up his spine.

In the corner of his eye, something large and grey, sped by as its whole form was masked by the darkness and rain. At the worst time, the flickering RV light finally turned off as its bulb exploded.

So, there he was, in the dark, being stalked by some creature. He did not know what it was, but it felt ominous and dangerous.

“Willy!” cried out Hunter as he dropped the beers and darted for the RV.

Sensing his need Willy quickly opened the door and looked out as to why he was called. There before him, some twenty yards off, he saw Hunter in a dead sprint racing towards him. Just a few paces behind him, was a large grey monster, with sharp edges all over its skin, chasing after his friend. Willy grabbed his rifle that he always kept by the door and took aim. He yelled a warrior’s cry as he unleashed a waylay of bullets at the creature. It kept charging forward, with each bullet tearing apart at its flesh, but doing nothing to stop it. Hunter dove by Willy, through the door, and into the RV.

Willy kept firing and yelling as the monster raced closer until finally his AK-47 clicked. He was out of ammunition. He slammed the door shut and as he did the large creature slammed into the side of the camper. The wall slightly dented inward and Willy and Dana both almost fell over as the RV shook.

“What the fuck?!” asked Hunter as he laid on the floor with his hands raised in the air.

“You’re asking me? How the hell should I know?” said Willy.

“What’s going on guys?” said Dana as she regained her footing.

“There’s… there’s some monster outside,” said Willy.

“Oh my god. You got to be fucking kidding,” said Dana.

“Cuck, cuck, cuck, cuck, cuck,” a clicking sound came from outside. They all knew it was not from some material, but that it was the creature making its presence known.

They all were standing now, fearfully looking out the windows, hoping whatever it was, was gone.

“AUOOGHHHHH!” a deafening cry rang out.

The three of them covered their ears as the sound blasted their eardrums. They each hunkered down out of fear and from audible pain.

Abruptly, the rain was now showering inside as the monster ripped off the wall where it had previously damaged it. Through the dark it then revealed its nasty head and large jaws full of a hundred sharp jaggered teeth.

“AHHHH!” screamed Dana as she pressed herself against the back wall, far as away as she could get from the beast.

“Hunter! Magazine!”, said Willy.

Hunter reached the top shelf on the far side wall and threw it to Willy as he raised his rifle. He loaded it, pulled a bullet into the chamber, and began firing. The monster roared as bits of its body became bloodied from the rounds.

Disregarding the bullets, it lunged forward at Hunter. One of its many arms used its claws to grip his leg, its nails pierced his skin and dug into the muscles. Dana had grabbed the machete and chopped at its grey skinned arm, she missed as it used another to swipe at her hard, knocking her into the desk. As her unconscious body slipped off Hunter, who was still in the monster’s clutches, reached on his side for the machete that Dana had dropped. He swung back around with all his might; the blade went clean through the beast’s flesh.

The monster screamed out in pain, but aggressively reached out to slash with one of its other claws. Hunter began swinging the machete wildly at the many arms that came his way.

Willy, now out of ammunition again, ran across the RV to where his hollow point bullets were. He opened up the cabinet and found the box. Before he could load the weapon, he felt his feet slip from underneath. He was being dragged by the creature. As he felt his weight moving towards the monster he fumbled with the ammo box, it dropped to the floor of the RV and the beast grabbed ahold of Willy’s hand soon as he picked it up into his fist.

Years prior, Willy was with a group of friends in Little Elm, just celebrating life. As they were barhopping from one establishment to the next, they came across a homeless man. The man was being aggressive, so Wild Bill threw the man into a garbage can and assumed that was that. But the homeless man got back up, pulled out a knife, and lunged at Willy. Before Willy could know what was happening, he was stabbed deeply in the neck. Willy then angrily pulled out the blade, but before he could resume his attack, he felt blood flow out through his lungs. He collapsed to the ground as the homeless man ran away. His injury caused nerve damage that severely weakened one of his hands, his grip was soft, and its use limited.

The very hand he grabbed the ammo box with was that disabled hand and the monster had wrapped its claws around it. While holding and pulling Willy’s body towards it, it also slowly peeled back one finger at a time from Willy’s fist that held the ammo. Willy struggled with all his might to keep his hand closed, but he had no strength in it as the monster opened it up. The creature then took the box and devoured it, forever taking away their way of killing it. But, just before all hope was lost, Hunter saw one round fall from its mouth to where its massive feet were.

Hunter, who was now in the grips of the creature, struggle to free his shoulders from the beast’s hold. Just then, out of nowhere, Dana rushed in wielding a Japanese sword. She cut off both of the arms that were holding Hunter. Now free, he looked towards Willy, the monster now almost had him in its mouth, Willy was fighting to block from being eaten by using his rifle to block its menacing jaws and frightening teeth.

Dana and Hunter rushed forward, dodging the clutches of claws from its many arms. He plunged the machete into the beast’s belly, green blood splattered out. Dana, running full sprint forward, jump high as she could into the air and stabbed the monster just below the shoulder. Hunter then hopped onto the handle of the machete, then jumped with one foot up to the where the sword was and used his momentum to pull himself past the sword’s handle. He was now mid-air, next to where the monster’s jaws were and where Wild Bill had his rifle jammed into its mouth. Hunter grabbed the bottom of the creature’s mouth; his hands began bleeding from the pressure of its sharp teeth. He looked left towards Willy, who had only his frail hand free as the rest of him was covered and being stabbed by the monster’s many claws.

Wild Bill winked at Hunter. As Willy reached with his disabled hand to cock back his AK-47 Hunter pulled himself up despite the pain from the razor-sharp teeth of beast. Hunter then swung his left hand forward that held the hallow point bullet while holding himself up with only his right arm. Willy’s hobbled hand slipped its fingers around the charging handle and with all of his energy he focused on having a tight enough grip to pull it back with. All of his nerve endings were on fire as his weakened hand did what it was supposed to not do, it firmly grasped the charging handle. He pulled it back as Hunter slammed the hallow point round into its open chamber. Wild Bill released the handle, sending the bullet forward into position, and then squeezed the trigger.

A loud blast exploded through the monster head and matter blasted out the back of its skull. Its grip on Willy weakened and he and Hunter fell to the ground as bright green blood splattered over them. Slightly trapped underneath the lifeless body of the freakily shaped beast Dana helped them up.

All three were in total shock. Dripping green blood and soaked also by the rain, they slowly reentered the RV. Exhausted, depleted, and wiped out of all energy the three of them sat down. Willy looked at Hunter who looked at Dana who was looking at Willy. They all stared at each other for quite a moment. Suddenly the rain stopped, and they all looked up. No more was the droplets pounding the roof of the RV. As they brought their eyes back down, they saw the wall of the camper was not ripped off. It was intact as it had been before the monster. Back to each other they noticed there was no green blood, nor were they soaked by the rain. The machete was against the corner, the rifle next to the door, and the Japanese sword was still hanging up high on the wall. However, the only thing that was out of place was one single hallow point bullet lying in the middle of the floor.

The three of them just stared with their jaws open…

“There was no monster!” yelled Willy.

“I don’t know what to say or what to think!” cried out Dana.


“I said this was some cocaine that’ll make you go insane. Didn’t I?” said Hunter.

“The Bullet” is an excerpt from “Pleasure, Alien, Baddies” by Shane Hibdon.

Category: Featured, Fiction