This year I am working on a story called Bob vs. The Alien Slug Monsters. Instead of an outline I have a basic list of plot points I want to cover between meeting Bob and sending him off to fight the king of the slugs. There is more of a cast of characters than an actual outline, so we will see how the story develops. And with that intro we continue with Bob Versus the Alien Slug Monsters…
Day 68: He found he was holding his breath as the slugs got into position.
He found he was holding his breath as the slugs got into position. Just like last time there was no study of the people on the stretchers, no inspection to see what the problem was. The slugs simply slid on top of the people in the stretchers and attempted entry. They screamed their screeching wail as thy came in to contact with the salt and then bubbled and died.
It was a horrible sound and Bob found himself wincing, hating the fact that he caused those deaths. ‘Surely they have to realize something is up now though.’
Mentally he debated whether the couch or the desk were better hiding places, certain that with the changes he would need to hide soon.
The slug dressed in their version of a hazmat suit came forward again. He dealt with the dead slugs and then again lined up the people with the others at the edge of the parking lot along the street. There was some discussion and again while Bob could recognize that it was a discussion he couldn’t make out any of the words.
‘It’s not like they are speaking English,’ he told himself. He was certain that if the slugs were right in front of him and talking loudly he still would not be able to understand them.
All he could do was watch and wait. ‘The look agitated though.’
The argument or discussion seemed to end and five more slugs were sent through the gap in the plantings to find five more stretchers. Bob frowned as five more stretchers were lined up with five more slugs ready to take their place.
‘Maybe they think the third time is the charm.’
Bob watched as they repeated the process a third time. As they were still using people Bob coated with salt, the results were the same. Again things were cleaned up and the people the slugs couldn’t used placed in a line.
Again five more stretchers were retrieved.
Bob watched as the process was repeated over and over. Slowly the parking lot in front of the Bowl-a-Rama filled. The discussions seemed to become more agitated but the outcome was the same.
‘Try, try, try again,’ Bob thought.
His fear of being found lessened and he thought he might settle into a more comfortable position. He wondered if he dare move when the discussion between the slugs after another failed attempt seemed more agitated than before. Bob froze and felt his heart rate speed up. The slugs were clearly arguing between themselves. Five new slugs were chosen to go fetch stretchers. This time they seemed to refuse.
The five hovered in a line. One seemed more intent than the others. He waved his arms and gestured first to the stretchers of those who couldn’t be occupied and then to the gap in the planters leading to the other parking lot.
‘Resistance at last,’ Bob thought. One of the slugs who had more decorative bits on his uniform pushed his floating disk over. He said something to the five waiting slugs. They answered. He lifted his gun and shot all five of them, melting them into piles of goo. He then gestured to the waiting slugs. One group took the goo filed disks away and five more slugs were dispatched to get five new stretchers.
Ten til Midnight 