Electric

chapter one

Imagine a person.

Now make their skin colorless and slimy. Move up to their face and subtract the eyes, leaving hollow holes instead. Finally, move down to the mouth. Make it round, practically suspended in a circle, forever open in a silent scream. Fill that mouth with teeth all of the way around, the shape of needles, and so sharp they could draw blood with just a prick.

    That is what's standing no more than four feet away from me: a Flesh Feeder. I should probably be panicking right now, but somehow the way the sun is hitting the ghastly thing's skin is holding me captive, holding me completely still in place. Why am I not running? As many times as I've seen a Flesh Feeder, it still freaks me out every time. 

    In a weird way, I admire Flesh Feeders. The Prominence, the government after the plague hit, invented Flesh Feeders to eat the plagued bodies so the bodies didn't pollute the streets. Apparently, something about the pus oozing from the plagued bodies wasn't appetizing, so the Flesh Feeders started eating the healthy people instead. All the Flesh Feeders are, are a Prominence invention that backfired.

    The only explanation for this is that the Prominence is thoughtless. Why would they create a flesh eating monster and expect it to eat only dead, diseased bodies? And who came up with a Flesh Feeder? Was this guy sitting in his lab and all of the sudden sketched up a drawing of the most horrid creature and thought, "Hey! This looks like a great monster to blindly follow instructions and have no independent thoughts whatsoever!" Actually, I don't doubt it.

    Like I said, the Prominence is thoughtless.

    So, here I stand, mere feet from a Prominence screw up, and I don't have a damn thing to defend myself with. I glance around at my surroundings and come up hugely disappointed. There are tall trees towering over me, underbrush under my feet, and foliage letting rays of sunlight in at chance spots on the wood's floor.

How did I even get here? I try not to look away from the Flesh Feeder for too long for fear it might lunge or try to take me off guard. But when I return my eyes to its ugly figure, it has its head cocked to the side, watching me curiously.

    I let out a shaky breath before biting my lip. I seem to be in quite the dilemma here. My eyes glance around one more time, and that's when I catch it. There's a bird in the bare patch of sky a ways away. I don't even remember the last time I saw a bird. How lucky birds are, to be able to fly away, to just pick up and leave to wherever they please, whenever they want. I wish I were a bird. Being anchored to this body, to this earth, is almost too painful to bear.

    As I watch the bird about to take flight, I notice something very vital. As it lifts its wings, a ripple spreads across its body like a still lake would when a pebble is skipped. That's when it hits me hard and right in the face.

    This isn't real.

    I smirk thankfully at the bird before turning my eyes back to the Flesh Feeder. Its head is still cocked to the side, and I'm still smirking. My legs take me a tactful step forward and the Flesh Feeder stares at me with its hollow eyes. I imagine I can hear it gasp as I take another step toward its nasty figure. I lick my lips and rub them together slowly before taking one more step. Now there are only inches apart from the monster and I. The smirk I'm sporting right now is perfect, the bird still about to take flight is watching silently, and the woods are still in waiting.

    "Eat me." I dare and I'm greeted with silence. Still, yet surprisingly satisfying, silence. The glare I give is enough to set the woods on fire, but I don't light the gasoline yet. I wait for the monster to grab the lighter. Finally, the Flesh Feeder lunges and I close my eyes tight, holding still for the explosion of light to erupt.