Author’s Note: This story is meant as a tribute to Ed Wood’s unfortunate classic Plan 9 from Outer Space. Recognized by many as one of the worst films ever made, I’ll offer no argument defending the production. The execution of the story was abysmal, however, the story itself was ahead of its time in some regards. This is a tribute to what could have been the greatest science fiction horror classic of Hollywood’s Golden Age. I’ve taken exceptional liberties with character and location, however, the overall story remains the same.
I trembled as I fell to my knees in the snow-ash drifts on the hill. My chest was on fire, each struggling inhalation a ball of flame that moved fluidly down my throat and into my lungs. My eyes watered, ached as I tried to focus on the structure in the distance. So close, my home, but so far away that I knew as I began to choke on the blood filling my mouth that I would die in the wastes outside before I could ever set one foot over the threshold.
It was a long week and continuing to be so. Harley Strahm had only just recently signed on to be the personal nurse of Mr. Antwan Monroe, a man with a curious ailment. He's been through a handful of nurses in a short period of time; none of which could handle the situation properly. Harley hadn't been out of school that long before he saw the ad and he didn't know anything about Mr. Monroe besides the fact that it was a peculiar hospice case and that he'd been through a number of caregivers before signing up.