Don't worry, it's not as bad as it sounds ... this is just a few of my flash stories. Each write around 1000 words from a range of science fiction, fantasy and horror genres (22 SF, 2 F, 1 H).
It's not paid work, where some supervisor assigned the task to me based on a prescribed position description: "Jack, we have an alien beast ripping up the east quarter. Your assigned job today is to kill it."
No, it's not like that.
I'm not military either, although it would be nice to have some blow-the-crap-up gear.
I'm just an average guy who's got his mind set on an above average objective.
Consider it a community service; killing the beast.
Why me? I hear you ask.
Simply because no one else has managed to do it.
And what makes me think I can?
Well, Iet's just say, "what makes you think I can't?"-- ahem, don't answer that. Let's stay positive shall we.
Think of the attitude we all had when the beast first landed. "Oh, this'll be fun!" we said. Although, at the time, we didn't know this creature was a beast. 'Visitor' we called it. But it turns out, in polite society, visitors don't rip the heads off their hosts. No, 'beast' is a much better word.
And ugly too. If you're reading this and don't know what the beast looks like, just imagine an animal (any animal) crossed with another animal (any other animal). Got that? Good, Now multiply the size of said animal-x-animal by a factor of ten to one hundred and turn it inside out; wrap it with clear film; and add a pair of arms with three claws for fingers on each hand. Voila! There you have it. One ugly mother-of-a-beast.
Okay, the morning is getting away from me. Need to complete prep.
Checklist:
1. Personal computer notebook (spec. not important) - check;
2. M65-5.1 ultra array system with 14 inch mid-bass driver and dual 200mm soft dome tweeters. This xway design will offer smooth frequency response, wide sound dispersion, and accurate sound reproduction - check;
3. Rig above speakers into a harness with cables and a heap of gaffer tape - check; and finally,
4. Fully charged battery UPS - I call it an unplugged power supply and don't know anything about it other than it's as heavy as all hell and had to mount it onto a lawn mower base in order to make it portable - check.
So, now you can see my plan. I'm gonna blast the beast with music? Correct! But not just any music I'm gonna blast the beast with the very best of K Pop.
Haha! I hear your mocking laughter. No, really. Hear me out!! I've worked out that the K Pop average frequency if sped up one point three times matches the frequency that seems to cause the beast real physical discomfort. I saw the beast's pain first in the footage when it went out of its way to attack the ice cream van and then again when it focused on the bus of screaming school girls.
I tried to explain my theory to the authorities. But they wouldn't listen; hanging the phone up on me twice.
So it's all up to me to test out my plan solo. Am I nervous? Sure, I'll only get one shot at this.
Here I go. Wish me luck.
* * *
[twenty minutes later]
There's the beast. I have to admit it looks far more hideous in real life.
I can see two piles of bodies amid smoke and destruction.
The first pile is made up of victims before the beast uses its claws to pull aside the sternum and then rip out and greedily consume the heart. Placing the rest of the body on the used pile before reaching for the victim pile and repeating its gory feast.
In a weird way, the scene reminds me of my dad eating buffalo wings. I hate how he just sucks the sauce off and leaves most of the meat still on the bone. But hey, that's just me. Time to play.
I press play on my notebook, set the volume to level eight and move in.
My theory proves correct. The beast is confused at first not seeming to be able to discern the source of the high beat uplifting music. But the pain it experiences is clear. Then it sees me.
It moves fast, but I'm faster and switch to my 1.3x remaster tracks and pump up the volume.
The beast falls to the ground clutching its 'ears', pleading in its hideous language something that I can only imagine means, "Make it stop!".
I move in close and, reversing polarity, inflict my finishing shot. That's right, Finnish death metal. I figure the Nordic screamo will send it back to the hell from whence it came.
The beast's head explodes, and I'm a hero.
-- All in a day's playlist.
.fin
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