The Darker Ending of "Ticking Time"

Yesterday I promised to post the alternate ending to Ticking Time. I have no idea how many people actually read all of the story after I put it up, but hopefully at least a couple did.
I wrote this when I was in a very unhappy mood, and I don't think I have ever produced anything quite as gruesome. Be critical of the writing itself if you want, but keep in mind that this was written purely as an outlet for how I was feeling at the time. I talked it out with Brianne right afterwards and I am not struggling with the same feelings anymore. So don't get worried about my emotional state, friends.
My main point in posting this is to prepare you for the blog that is coming soon...the one where I break down why I wrote what I did in both pieces. There is quite an intimate, painful connection between the story and my own life that I am actually really excited to talk about. Regardless of my grade on the assignment, it gave me the chance to have several meaningful conversations with classmates and my roommate about what it is like to have Tourette's as well as about how I view myself.
With all that being said, here it is.

Mercury stood up timidly, straightened his posture, sucked in a breath for courage, and strode forward. He remember that in his horror story, the monster had been killed by a stab in the back. Scanning the room quickly, he spotted the glass vase that sat on a shelf as decoration. Not very effective for stabbing, but he could improvise.

Snatching it off the shelf, Mercury threw it on the floor. It broke into four or five pieces; one of which was larger than his hand. Legs quivering, Mercury picked it up and scuttled across the room towards the struggling mass of humans and monster. “It’s just like one of your stories,” he murmured, and clenched the glass in his bony hand. Gathering every ounce of strength and resolution, Mercury brought the shard down fiercely and pierced the giant’s hairy back.

Blood poured from both the monster’s flesh and Mercury’s feeble hand. The giant slumped forward and began to shrink until he was the size of a small child. With a vicious snarl, the tiny monster whirled around, spraying sticky, crimson liquid all over the finished floor. He leaped into the air, grasping for exposed skin. As Jason and Michaela scrambled to their feet and watched in shock, two claw-like hands seized Mercury’s throat. Filthy nails punctured pasty-white flesh; blood instantly splurted out and began gushing down the monster’s arms and Mercury’s shoulders.

Mercury stood paralyzed as he watched the puddle of blood grow larger on the wood beneath his feet. His eyes slowly lifted to meet those of his creation, who was puffing through snot and his own blood and glaring triumphantly.

Snnnnnnntttttt. Plbbbbbbtttt. Snnnnnnttttt. Plbbbbbbttttt.

With a gurgle strangely resembling that of the one who had stalked him, Mercury dropped to the floor. The siblings flinched at the splat that followed his landing. The creator was dead.

At the very moment that Jason unfroze and sprang into action, the shrunken monster unhooked his soaking-wet fingers from the writer’s neck and twirled surprisingly fast on one heel. Jason jerked his right foot out with the intention of knocking his adversary to the ground, but the monster had seen the same move a few too many times that night. Still puffing profusely, the creature leaped onto Jason’s swinging leg and used that momentum to vault onto Jason’s face. He howled with rage and opened his mouth to reveal his now-razor-sharp teeth. Michaela threw herself forward to stop him, but she couldn’t reach her brother fast enough to prevent the inevitable.

Rip. Splurt.

A scream. A gurgle. Another screech. “NOOO—!”

A thud.

Michaela watched from the floor as the injured monster half-limped, half-dragged himself out the open door. As her eyes began to glaze over, she rotated her head to gaze at her dead brother. “We had him, Jase,” she hissed around the blood gushing through her teeth.

“Jason, really? You’re killing me here.”