One Night in Astor
Who Can it Be Now?
"Oh shit, oh fuck" Miles said frantically as he put pressure on the wound. The blood surged through his fingers from the gunshot; the red stained his friend's pale skin and clothes. Miles, in his heart, knew it was a failing venture-- he didn't even feel a heartbeat when he started compressions.
Miles had heard a window opening in the living room, and had grabbed his .380 from his nightstand. It was dark, and he only saw the shadowy silhouette from the streetlight that shined through the grimy open window. Afraid, Miles shot the dark figure breaking into his apartment. The flash, the bang-pop, he saw the face of his missing friend, Richard.
He pulled his hands reflexively to his face, not even registering how sticky and wet they were. "I'm sorry" he sobbed, "I'm so fucking sorry". In hysterics, he ran to the bathroom, but vomiting before he made it to the goal. Filled with competing guilt and shame, he balled up on the bathroom floor.
Miles shakily rose to his feet. As he did, he saw it in the mirror; the ghostly pale face of Richard, gaunt and fixed with a grimace of regret, standing behind him. "I'm sorry, Miles" he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy. He lunged at Miles, and the two fell to the ground. The last thing Miles knew was the teeth of Richard upon his neck.
Don't Stop Me Now
[RECORDING BEGINS TO PLAY]
[Loud dance music with heavy bass, a crackle then high-pitched microphone screech.]
"Good evening, clubgoers! I apologize for the interruption of festivities, but there is exciting news to share!"
[Confused chatter as the music stops.]
"Thank you all so much for your attention! Sadly, I must announce that the club ownership has passed away, just now."
[Shocked gasping from the crowd.]
"A moment of silence, please."
[The crowd quiets, with the sound of faint pounding coming from the kitchen door.]
"Now, I have wonderful news! The club is now under new management!"
[The crowd murmurs, as the lights begin to circle the space, the pounding from the kitchen increases.]
"Drum roll, please!"
[Rapid tapping is heard on the microphone, as the lights settle on the kitchen door.]
"Enter, ye' entrepreneurial gladiators!"
[The kitchen doors burst open, the bloody figures, wearing torn kitchen staff clothing, eyes milky white. The crowd screams and begins to run in panic as "Stars and Stripes Forever" starts to play.]
"What is this?! Tsk, tsk, such disdain for the working man! I am dismayed by how readily you all would turn away people in need just because they look different! I swear, the discrimination in this city gets worse every year."
[Sounds of screams and violence, as the former kitchen staff attack club guests, those furthest away attempting to open the doors.]
"Oh, don't bother with that. The doors are barred with stuff stronger than anything you will find on this Earth."
[Screaming, a distinct cry of "Why!" is heard.]
"Why? Oh, I suppose it is because I was a lonely child-- I never knew my parents, who died just after my birth, and never knew love as a child. Just a single person, adrift in this cruel world."
[The lights affix themselves to following a young woman, covered in scratch and bite marks, fighting.]
"Such a kind soul! To think of the plight of others during stressful times. Maybe love would soften my hardened heart. A girlfriend would really improve my mental health; can you help me find a girlfriend? I can really put the romance in necromancer!"
[The young woman is overwhelmed, lost beneath the attacking crowd.]
"Oh, this happens every time. Why does love always elude me?"
[The chaos dies down, only leaving the sound of shuffling and wet eating.]
"Ah, well. Still, like mom used to say; plenty of other fish in the sea!"
[END OF RECORDING]
Pipes
The iconic sound of the Windows 95 startup filled the cluttered studio, filled with old personal computer peripheries; joysticks, keyboards, and other unopened components. The proud owner, Kevin Alvarado, waited eagerly for the system to fully boot.
He had recently purchased a floppy disk from a collector of rare software-- supposedly, this program was an early version of prototype virtual reality that was developed by a small firm there in Port Astor. Even if it was a hoax, the price was so low that he had to get it.
He put the disk into the drive, and the cursor indicated that something was loading, and... nothing. Nothing happened. Kevin scratched his patchy stubble, thinking on whether it was loading or if there was an issue. Deciding to give it a moment, he got up to get a beer from the fridge.
As he closed the fridge, he heard the sound of glass cracking and the smell of electrical smoke filled the space. Alarmed, Kevin quickly turned, and in horror could not understand what he was seeing; a technicolor, beaming tube that erupted from his old CRT monitor, the broken screen still frozen on a picture of the "pipes" screensaver.
Kevin dove, and covered his head as he continued to watch the tube zig and zag in his apartment. It moved faster than he could see, let alone react. He tried to crawl to the door and escape, but just then the tube pierced his hand, causing him to scream in pain. He frantically tried to move his hand, but the tube was as unmoving as steel beams. As he screamed, there was a pounding, and yelling from his front door: "Keep it down! It's three-fucking-a.m., and some of us have real jobs!"
Unable to do anything else, Kevin sat on his knees, bleeding hand held aloft, and screamed, "Help me! Please, somebody hel-", before suddenly falling silent. The only other sound heard that night was the victorious flare of the Windows 95 shutdown.
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