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 75: He had a bad feeling about it.
He had a bad feeling about it. ‘Which means I need to check it out.’ Bob stayed in place for a moment, watching the three slugs. Two were watching the king, but after waving towards the pol room, he lost interest and moved his disk towards the shelving unit where trophies were displayed. In the center there was the giant one that often haunted his nightmares. The trophy contained a long brass plaque on the front. It had the names of each team that won the league championship and the year they did so. There was a second, slightly smaller trophy and it’s brass plaque was engraved with the names of the bowlers who won the individual championships.
The first contained teams his family was on and the second contained many of their names, often repeated from year to year in blocks. Aunt Margaret pointed them out and told him that soon his name would be on one and the name of his team on the other. The fact that they never were haunted his nights making him feel like a failure. He doubted the slug was reading the names and he was certain that even if the king slug could read the names the absence of his would mean nothing. Still it brought up old feelings and as he turned away Bob tried to squash them down.
‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ he told himself as he moved away. ‘after all a bowling trophy doesn’t mean anything outside in the larger world.’ He didn’t know what Big Mike was doing now but whatever it was, he knew that having his name on the trophy for several years running didn’t mean he was successful at everything in life. Even if Bob did picture him as some fat cat CEO somewhere.
‘I don’t anyone who works with him is impressed by the Bowl-a-Rama even if he is,’ Bob thought.
He tried to shake the thoughts and concentrated on moving through the hall of silent machinery as silently as he could. He was certain it was a lot easier to do when the bowling alley was in use and the sound of the machines and other people covered up the little noises he made. Still, he didn’t hear any sounds of alarm, and concentrating on his own movements let him push thoughts of the past away.
Although he knew it wasn’t a long hall way, Bob arrived at the door far sooner than he hoped. ‘In horror movies aren’t these things stretched out,’ he thought. ‘Even short corridors seeming to go on for hours?’
He could have used a corridor extension. ‘Still I am here.’
Bob took a breath and looked at the door. The door looked like it hadn’t changed since he was a child and he slipped a hand to his pocket. He felt the metal of the key and let his fingers twiddle it for a moment. He was certain the key would unlock the door. He was equally certain that opening the door without knowing what was on the other side would be a really bad idea.
He looked up and saw the vent that led into the room. It was well above his head. ‘Step ladder,’ he thought. He looked down the corridor. ‘Janitor’s closet.’
Bob left the key in his pocket and moved to the closet. It wasn’t too far away and took only a few steps.
‘Seriously is one ever expanding corridor too much to ask?’
The door had the same lock and Bob slipped out the key, quickly unlocking it. While the bops and basic cleaning supplies were kept closer to the front, this closet was more for maintenance sorts of tasks. Shelves of lightbulbs and several large ladders waited. To his relief, Bob saw a small stepladder.
Ten til Midnight 