In Laymon's Terms

Branches whipped at them as they fled.

“Where the fuck is the beach?” Troy shouted.

“Keep going straight,” Jerry panted, clinging to Becka’s hand.

“Home Base, this is Two. Answer me, god damn it!”

“Craig, what is your malfunction,” Roland’s voice chastised him. “You know better than to speak that wa—”

“With all due respect, Mr. Thompson, shut up! This island is hostile! Repeat, this island is hostile! We’ve got dead and injured and we need to evacuate! Meet us at the drop zone in ten minutes!”

“What do you—”

“NOW!”

A creature crashed out of the greenery directly in front of them. With a hideous roar, it swiped out with one clawed hand, catching the cameraman in the face. His cheek and scalp were flayed open, revealing his teeth and skull. Screaming, he dropped to the ground. The beast attacked, tearing and slashing.

Troy, Jerry and Becka ran, the sounds of pursuit getting closer.

Jerry ducked under a branch, pulling Becka along with him. He spied the beach, and farther out, the ship. The helicopter rose from the flight deck, floodlights burning in the darkness.

Becka caught the branch with her chin and winced in pain as it drew a red welt across her cheek. She ducked and it snapped back, knocking Troy’s hat off.

“My hat!”

“Forget about it,” Jerry urged. “They’re coming!”

Troy scrambled after his cap, just as one of the creatures jumped forward.

Antoine quickly felt for a pulse, relieved that Marcy was alive.

The monsters tore through them. They pounced upon the first cameraman, ripping his arms from their sockets with a wrench, and then used them to club the second.

Antoine charged the fifth one, thrusting upward with the knife. The blade sank into the slick flesh of its belly, and the beast grunted in surprise. Its foul breath blasted his face. Warm, sticky blood ran over his knuckles. He jerked the knife free and stabbed again, feeling the blade go deep. The creature shuddered, then collapsed. A long, pink tongue rolled out of its mouth, then it lay still.

The others stopped ravaging their kills, and glared at him with yellow eyes. Slowly, they circled him.

The biggest of the four moaned. Antoine glanced at its waist.

The creature was erect. Its penis, staggering in size and covered with rugged contours and bulging black veins, bobbed in the air.

Something slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground. A great weight pressed his shoulders down, crushing him. Black nails clenched his hair, yanking his head up. His shorts were torn away in one swipe. Talons pierced his skin, holding him down as something long and oily and hard pressed against his tightly clenched buttocks, and rammed between them.

Marcy woke to Antoine’s screams.

She watched helplessly as a beast raped Antoine from behind. Another drew its penis to his up-stretched face. She stared in disbelief as the creature thrust forward, plunging its member into Antoine’s eye. It grunted, shoved, and then sank it to the hilt as the membrane in his eye socket burst. Antoine jerked, arms flailing wildly, then lay still. Both creatures continued thrusting.

They spasmed in orgasm, and then withdrew, leaving a gaping ruin at both ends. Still hard, they stroked their blood-slicked members, and fell upon her.

She prayed they would kill her. Prayers unanswered, she slipped from consciousness again.

Larry exploded from the jungle and ran out onto the cliff. A mile away, he spotted the chopper bulleting toward the beach.

“Shit!”

He waved his arms frantically.

“Hey! Hey, over here!”

His calls were answered by a growl. He turned as a lone monster stalked towards him.

“Oh God,” he whimpered. “Hey, over here! Help me!”

He backed towards the edge, and the beast crept forward. He could see that it was a female. Pale, round breasts dangled in the moonlight. The dark hair sprouting from between its legs was matted with dirt and insects all the way up to its filthy navel.

The creature emitted an unpleasant, musky odor. Larry cringed as he breathed it in. Despite his fear, he was amazed to find himself growing hard. Each breath brought more arousal.

His erection strained at his zipper.

A deep purring issuing from her throat, the she-thing straddled him.

Larry screamed.

The creature held Troy’s hat in one clawed hand, its black snout crinkling in curiosity.

“GIMME BACK MY FUCKING HAT!’’

“Troy,” Becka screamed. “What are you doing?”

“He’s crazy,” Jerry stammered. “He’s snapped. Come on, let’s go!”

“Troy, the chopper’s coming!”

“I ain’t leaving without my hat.”

Hefting a football-sized rock, Troy faced the creature. With a rough, throaty chuckle, it stepped toward him, still clutching the hat.

Troy swung the rock, aiming for its face. He missed as it sprang backward.

“Get the hell out of here,” Troy shouted. “I’m gonna show this fucker how we do it in Brackard’s Point!”

They ran. The jungle gave way to sun-bleached sand.

The helicopter’s lights bathed the beach in an eerie false light. The whirling blades kicked up a swirling cloud of sand.