The interdimensional rift cascaded like a wave of heat on a desert highway. It struck the side of the house and rippled over the back yard until it was absorbed by the forest beyond.
“Grandma, they’re coming,” the girl screamed to her grandma from the gun placement in the attic.
“I see them. Do you have enough bullets?”
“I hope so. The lumberjack just sent up a box. Do you have enough?”
“I won’t know until–they’re in the front yard.”
The girl and her grandma opened fire on the demon wolves before they could reach the bushes in front of the house that was locked down with steel plates over the windows and behind the front door. The lumberjack was in the basement loading the two dumb waiters with boxes of bullet belts and sending them up to the two women.
Suddenly, a couple demon wolves smashed their snouts through the basement window. The lumberjack nailed them with his AR-15. Just as long as their carcasses were stuck in front of the window, the man could keep sending up ammunition.
Demon wolves attempted to climb up the side of the house, but their claws couldn’t grip the stone or the mortar between them. The women picked them off one by one. They kept on coming like waves of snarling furry monsters that were four-legged killing machines. The carcasses piled up like the ramp that was constructed by the Romans against Massada.
In the basement as the lumberjack was loading the dumb waiters with more boxes of bullets the dead demon wolves were shoved into the basement to make way for the creatures that forced their way into the room where the boxes of bullets were located. The lumberjack managed to nail half a dozen demon wolves before slamming the door and locking it.
More demon wolves poured into the ammo room and charged the door that shook like it was being pounded on by a giant. The lumberjack hurried up the steps and entered the kitchen before the monsters could bust through the ammo room door. He picked up a few clips of ammo that were lying on a shelf before heading up to the kitchen. They looked like they could fit in his rifle’s breech.
The kitchen door was made from heavy-gauge steel and had two dead bolts where they were expected, two at the top, and two at the bottom. Evidently the old woman that owned the house expected the worst. But hearing each demon wolf slamming its body against the barrier was still unnerving.
Up in the attic the women still had plenty of ammunition. But when no fresh boxes were hoisted up to them they became worried. The older woman turned on the intercom and made a call down to the lumberjack.
“Where are you? Why did you stop? We’re not out of ammo, are we?”
The lumberjack pushed the intercom button in the kitchen and said, “I’m in the kitchen. Those monsters got into the basement and only the basement door is keeping them out. You knew, didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t secure the basement, so I had to secure the kitchen. They might have claws like steel, but they can’t rip open a half inch of the real stuff.”
“Do you have enough ammo up there?”
“Red was going through belts too fast until I told her to aim more and shoot less. It all depends on how long they’re in this dimension.”
“Can I do anything to help you two up there?”
“You can’t give us what we need, so don’t waste your time up here.”
“I can relieve one of you if you get tired,” he offered.
“You’ve done all you can down there. Yeah, come on up.”
The lumberjack rushed up the stairs to the attic. He yanked on the rope of the attic hatch in the ceiling and stepped aside as the steps descended. He crawled up the steps, pulled them back up, and closed the hatch.
“At least they can’t fly,” he told the old woman. She smiled before manning her machine gun.
The snarling grew louder and some of the shots were muffled.
“They’re climbing on top of dead bodies,” Red screamed.
“That’s how they are. As long as we’re alive and they’re out there, they’ll keep coming.”
The woman kept firing on the creatures as they made their way toward the gun placements. The two inch thick quartz glass that allowed the women to look out provided protection but not as clear a view of the intruders as they would have liked. But they had to do their best. And with the wolves being shot at point blank range, the women could be blind folded and be accurate enough to kill them. They needed at least three bullets to stop them as long as the slugs hit sensitive portions of the creatures.
Red bolted out of the gun placement screaming, “I can’t take it anymore.”
The lumberjack ran into the small room and began firing on the demon wolves as they tried to scratch and bite their way into the attic. The man took the old woman’s advice and fired his weapon in semi-auto mode. Red wept and shook on the floor in the fetal position in the corner of the attic. But there was no time to give her comfort with who knows how many demon wolves attacking.
The old woman began firing one shot at a time to save ammunition. The lumberjack followed suit. With one box left for each gun to use, all three people prayed for the onslaught to end.
This was a variation of a story I wrote a while back. It is a retelling of “Little Red Riding Hood” with demon wolves as the enemies. Luckily the original story only had one wolf because demon wolves would have torn her, her grandma, and the lumberjack apart.