This week’s holiday Flash Fiction Challenge is to write a superhero story – but mashed up with a different genre. I rolled a “1” and got splatterpunk horror. My entry is not only an hour or so late (there’s a 12 Noon ET “deadline”) but fairly short, barely 800 words, considerably less than the allotted “1,000 words or so.”
As always, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated.
The room might once have been stylish but the viscera covering the walls, floor, and ceiling had drowned all traces of civilization in a red tide of carnage with a tinge of effluvia.
As I waded in, stepping delicately over the collateral damage left by a psychopath gone berserk, I had my knife at the ready, balanced perfectly in my hand. It was my favorite piece of steel, twelve gleaming inches of protection that could slice, dice, and julienne its way through just about anything. Today I was obviously going to need it to sing its sweet song of pain and death to keep me alive.
I jumped and swung the blade as something warm and slick touched the back of my neck. A glob of something stringy and red split in two as it fell from the ceiling into the cesspool at my feet. My cape had saved me from the worst of whatever toxic and acidic sludge I had been exposed to.
As I moved deeper into the house, my hyperhearing slowly started to pick up the sound that told me where my prey awaited. Moving closer, the distant rumbling and shuddering became a roar of anger, shredding the air and threatening everything in its path.
Coming around a corner into the kitchen, I confronted my enemy. The setting sun’s light coming in through a gore splattered bay window reflected off the myriad gleaming blades of instant death. The sound of the beast was deafening, as if all of the chain saws of the world were simultaneously chewing through all of the screaming, rabid tigers of the world.
I wasn’t sure there was anything in my utility belt that had ever anticipated facing a foe of this ilk. I would have to be quick – and merciless.
The metallic djinn dodged and darted, leaping and cavorting about the room, constantly searching for its next victim, its next kill. Nothing in the room had been spared its touch. Splinters of cabinets and floor tiles were embedded into the walls like daggers, with more flying up to join them in their deadly dance as the beast explored new territory.
As I watched, I could see that as vicious and violent as it was, there were still yet constraints on it. It was not yet free to spread its destruction beyond this house and beyond. There might yet be time to save others who had yet to fall victim to its slavering maw, to spare the innocent citizens of this fair metropolis from a nightmare of never ending suffering.
Moving slowly so as to not attract its attention, I tried to slip between it and the kitchen sink. But then, curses! My cape caught on a drawer handle, pulling it out onto the floor and spilling silverware everywhere with a clattering cacophony. The sound of my clumsy error and the flashes of spoons tumbling through the rays of sunlight attracted the diablo, for it leapt towards me. In a blur, it tore a new streak across a line of cabinets and sent a hail of newly forged toothpicks at me.
Praying that the Kevlar jumpsuit my mom had given me would protect me in this moment of crisis, I dodged under the attack and rolled through the slime, sliding across the debris toward the far wall. As I slammed into the wainscoting, I slashed upward with my steel and prayed to the gods to guide my hand.
In a shower of sparks, the hellion’s lifeline was severed. A jolt of electricity coursed down my arm and the knife flew out, miraculously embedding itself into the heart of the monster. With a last exhausted gasp, it gave up the ghost and collapsed to the floor.
Carefully I picked myself up, dripping with goo that stank of kale and soy paste. I checked to make sure that the fiend was truly dead, switching it from “puree” to “off” just to make sure. I went through what was left of the cabinets and refrigerator, looking for any sign of a decent Thanksgiving dinner, but found only probiotic yoghurt, free-range steel-cut grains, and foods fit only for a rabbit.
It was no wonder that they hadn’t had the strength to keep control of the beast. And who in hell needed a food processer that big, anyway?
I walked back out the front doors to the adoration of the cheering neighbors. The weeping homeowners groveled at my feet as I sat on the hood of my Studmobile, writing up the bill for the successful exorcism.
“Payment due within forty-eight hours,” I said, “or I come back and plug it back in again. I take all major credit cards, plus PayPal and Bitcoin. And why don’t you go get a burger for god’s sake?”
What was this world coming to?