The Junkyard

Part 1 | Yardjunk

The sharp glare of the sun shining on the broken cellphone tower was blinding. The junkyard stretched out for miles. Spiders, vile filthy creatures, gathered in every nook and cranny, making a home out of the discarded remnants of shattered televisions, old cameras, and inoperative electronic devices. Piles upon piles of glittering, metallic scraps were clustered around. The yard smelled like a petrol station, with the strong odour plating your tongue. The faint light from the dying sun reflected off the once desired goods in all directions, filling the yard with warm, golden, glowing, glimmering light. The setting sun cast shadows, and with so many things stacked on top of one another, a shadow could easily be mistaken for something else. Strange shaped shadows overlooked/dominated the many mountains of unwanted junk. Ancient videotapes swirled through the piles, like shady grey snakes, and torn tarnished books like flowers littered the fields of the brown hills. Broken down cars and mail boxes poked out of the mounds, protruding at odd angles.

The cool glow of tinfoil stars illuminating the pools of rusting buttons was a nice touch across skies jewelled with bottle caps and cardboard scraps. The junkyard was a noteworthy treasure trove of spare parts to the well-seasoned mechanic's eye. And as she walked by, closely examining everything in existence, she muttered to herself, "Ah. Yes. This will do nicely." You see, she planned to create the very thing no one had achieved before. A monster.

The highway passed the junkyard and continued out into the country, where wide areas of grass and trees were dotted with the occasional mobile home, gas station, or church. Not much to do or see and most people drove through fast on their way to somewhere else, without even looking out their windows. When outsiders came to the junkyard, it wasn't on purpose and they never stayed long. Directions, a bathroom break and a cup of coffee, and they were gone. That was how the sentinel liked it. Nice and cosy in his little cabin with not many visitors. Not being on the map was a point of pride for him. Sentinel José had been born and raised on the edge of the country, at the trailer park right near the junkyard. His father was one of the rare outsiders who stayed. José built his life on that highway and in the end the highway took it back. A devastating accident and suddenly, there was no one to guard the junkyard. No one willing to take up the meagre salary. The contents of the junkyard were free to just swoop in and take.\

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  And that's how this evil mechanic gal came to be. I assume she had been hit in the head a few times when she was a baby so she has some big wild dreams.

Evil mechanic/scientist is a woman -> inspired by Dr Bellum

Geez i can never finsih a story, can I? Even if itz hellaa short