Godzilla: Strange Flesh (Ch. 1)
Chapter 1 of my gritty Godzilla fanfiction story—follow along with/read the rest of the story on my Patreon.
SUMMARY: Humanity has finally eliminated Godzilla, but the monster’s cells, and a terrible curse, begin warping and mutating people into kaiju. When a lovesick husband is separated from his wife, he must navigate his afflicted city to escape it—or seek divine redemption—before his own body and mind degenerate beyond return.
Note from the Author: This is not a conventional Godzilla story. It is a more experimental tale that invites readers to explore a different perspective on our favorite monster: Godzilla! This fanfiction includes plentiful action and monster fights but prioritizes characters, drama, and the deeper implications of Godzilla’s existence on the human condition. I encourage you to keep an open mind, share constructive comments, and enjoy!
Godzilla: Strange Flesh — Chapter 1
An irradiated and battle-torn metropolis writhed before him in fantastic firelight. The flames rippled out ribbons of brilliance and color, their gold, white, and crimson hues arcing fiercely across the horizon. But beyond them and their multi-million-dollar stone-and-glass victims crept an infernal darkness. Brant shivered at how these many pockets of flame brought not only piercing light but shadow so thick that one's soul would struggle to breathe.
He struggled then, perched upon the precipice of a new tomorrow.
No one knew what had caused the "virus." Virus or curse, Brant remained undecided. All the media had reported before the erupting chaos was that Godzilla cells shed throughout the city during the previous night's military engagement with the monster had spawned some nefarious illness. When humanity had finally slain the beast, toppling his body into the nearby ocean, there'd been cause for celebration.
Now… Brant sucked a silent breath through his teeth as he watched the unfolding nightmare. Any joyful sentiment fell prey to this preternatural darkness infecting human minds, hearts, and… bodies. Brant glanced nervously at his wife draped quietly over the living room sofa.
"Leila?" he whispered, nails of dread hammering into his spine.
No answer.
Brant's heart swelled with passion for this woman who had hurt him so many times yet loved him so tenderly. His feelings for her ranged from oceanic depth and ardor to gossamer-like softness, and he wanted nothing more than for her to be safe. To survive this awful spell of kaiju affliction.
She'd exhibited none of the signs of transforming thus far. No sudden spiky appendages. No bony growths or tumors. Her breathing rhythm hadn't altered from that slightly labored alcoholic stupor into which she'd slipped only hours earlier. If she were sober enough to see the world now, she might believe she was living in one of her inebriated dreams.
Shuddering, Brant withdrew from the window and began pacing in his and his wife's high-rise apartment, thinking. He'd sweep her out of the city and beyond the crumbling Perimeter Wall dividing this fiery urban hellscape from the countryside. Yes, and he'd find someplace—anyplace at all—to protect her from these elements. The fires sprouting downtown from newly turned creatures, flames from the military's recent confrontation with Godzilla, and an ever-growing horde of monster-people, whose clamoring Brant could hear intensifying beyond the apartment.
I'll get the car ready, Brant thought. Clean it out, and make sure our emergency packs are in there and good to go. We'll be free of this.
But Brant never reached his and Leila's humble rust bucket SUV—they had already infiltrated the apartment complex's parking garage and wrecked everything their ruinous hands could touch.
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