Slugs: A Story

Chapter 10

Theodore took one long look at the rapidly approaching felshconsumius maxinmus and ran for the meat salting house thing at his top speed. When he got to it he opened the door so fast that it was ripped off its hinges.

Theodore immediately realized that the 8x8 meat preserving outhouse thing was too small to protect him from the greedy teeth of the felshconsumius. He turned to leave, but was blocked by the beast itself.

"What are you?!" asked Theodore, not knowing about the vicious slugs. "Actually, I don't care. Get out!"

He grabbed a steak off the wall and began beating the creature over the head with it. Quickly its features began to contract and wither, drying up and dying, until all that was left was a small carcass of what was a slug.

"What?" breathed Theodore. "How- how did that steak-"

He reached over to touch the magic meat in question. It was salty.

"Salt!" Theodore exclaimed. "Salt! Ha ha ha! Slugs dry out in salt! Ahaha! I think I'm hallucinating now! Hahaha!"

Giddily Theodore walked out of the salting house thing and began calling out for Aunt Margaret. He didn't care about anything anymore, not a bit. He was alive! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Theodore Heidenburough passed out on the ground.

. . .

When Theodore woke up, it was nighttime. He immediately sat up and for a moment wondered what he was doing here.

Then it all came back. The slugs. His brother's death. Uncle Timothy. It was all there.

But, he wondered, how did Wilson even die?

His eyes wandered to the dried out trails of slime plastering the ground.

Slime.

Somewhere in Theodore's brain, something clicked. That was it! Slime! There were slime trails identical to these at the gas station where his brother has met his doom!

Blissfully he walked up to Aunt Margaret's house and stumbled inside. Yes! He now knew what he had to...

Kill.

Theodore remembered what he had done earlier. He had vowed to kill whatever had killed his brother. Theodore wondered if he had done it already, after all, the slug was dead. But what if there were more?

Thoughtfully he contemplated flesh eating slugs as he quietly searched for Aunt Margaret.

. . .

"Oh mah gawsh Theo are you okay?!?!" blurted Aunt Margaret.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," he responded, trying to brush her off his face.

"You know I think that I must be hallucinating, what with Wilson being dead and everything. Except, look at the window!"

She pointed to the window that the felshconsumius had barged in through.

"Listen, you're not hallucinating, nor are you dead. And yes... Uncle Timothy did get eaten by the slug," murmered Theodore, looking at the floor sadly.

"He was a good man," said Aunt Margaret, beginning to cry.

They both sat and cried for a while. Theodore was so shocked that two of his relatives had died in such a short time that he could barely even speak. So he sat there and put his arm around Aunt Margaret's shoulder, attempting to comfort her. After a while Theodore got up and dragged Uncle Timothy's body outside.

He grabbed a shovel and dug a hole six feet deep. With sorrow he lifted the lifeless body into the hole.

Together he and Aunt Margaret sat there and uttered a few words. Then Theodore solemnly covered him in dirt. He picked a few flowers off a nearby rose bush and laid them on top.

"May he rest in peace," said Aunt Margaret, and began to cry again.

They walked back to the house.