|Invasion of Robots
Author: Isis 47 PM
Everyday in my Language Arts class, we have 5 minutes to write about a subject the teacher gives us. Keep in mind my class actually clapped for this, and I only had 5 minutes to write it. Review and tell me whatcha think!Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Horror/Suspense - Chapters: 2 - Words: 941 - Reviews: 5 - Updated: 06-21-12 - Published: 04-18-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3014554
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
New and improved version of Invasion of Robots. I'm really bored right now, and am still deciding what to do for OUAKO. I think I'm going to go with Hansel and Gretel, since I have a fair idea for that one. Still need inspiration though.
Also, I have a FF page now, and have been busy with that. Sort of. Listening to All That Jazz from Chicago right now, so I'm in the mood to kill off somebody. Yes, I'm dark. Here you go!
Bill didn't stop running. He could hear the metal clinks of its' remaining legs—claws. They were claws. He recalled how they cut that man like he was a sheet of paper. And a louder sound of something dragging itself across the pavement, a metal scrape that terrified Bill to pushing his legs to their brink.
He didn't dare turn around now. It was almost there, almost on him, with that clacking beak that never ceased to—
It let out a banshee shriek. The thing was about ten, fifteen yards away—barely enough. Just barely enough to run . . . if there was only one.
Run. There're gonna be more coming after ya. Many, many more.
When those Beakers let out their call, you expect at least six or seven more to come. Bill recalled even seeing sixteen attacking two teens. Two!
Bill ran into an alley, knowing none of them was big enough to fit in such a narrow space. He gasped for breath, hands on knees. He wished he had never gotten the damn cleaning job. A growl came from above.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Bill raised his head, still gasping. Something was hidden by the shadows, hanging right above him. It bore its' fangs, the one thing Bill could just make out.
He turned to leave, but there were Beakers on either side of the alley. Looking up, there were two on the rooftop. Bill once again turned to the creature. It jumped down beside him, in a patch of moonlight.
It wasn't a Beaker. It had fur. Beakers are basically robots, like in terminator. Only they're spiders. But no, this thing had everything that classified as an animal. It almost looked a mixture of the aliens from Aliens and a rabid wolf.
It was . . . dear god, it was a new one. Bill screamed as it jumped on him, sinking its jaws into his neck. The scream turned into a small gurgle, and finally he died.
The beast started to tear out intestines, making the Beakers scream.
"Our last subject is dead, sir."
"How long did it take this one?"
"It only took him about . . . two days to realize there was no food, three hours to realize the rain was acid, and five days, seventeen hours, thirty-six minutes, twenty-seven seconds to get captured."
"Which one got him? Or, better yet, what did they call the creatures?"
"They all called 6753A12 Beakers, our spider subjects. They killed seven out of twenty subjects. Only three called 50O3112 Beasts, the squirrels we were testing on. Our last subject, bill, along with twelve out of twenty subjects, was killed by this species. Our last species died immediately. Our fox and bull breed. Do you suppose they're ready yet, sir?"
Mr. Monx stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Not yet. They aren't ready yet."
"But sir! This is a new record for 50O3112!"
"We need for only one specie to kill at least seventeen until they are ready. Until then, continue with the experiments. Order in the crew to clean the testing range."
"Yes sir." Don stepped out of the room. He still thought it was good enough. They send out Beasts into the world, letting them breed. Take over. When the world started to take notice, send out Beakers. It was that simple.
So close now . . . Don took out the Deadly Nightshade and mixed it in with Monx's martini. Screw the cleaning crew, they won't be needed.
When he came back, Monx was studying a map of Mexico.
"A martini, sir. You look like you need it."
"Thanks." He downed it in one gulp.
Don grinned as it took effect. Monx went to his knees, choking. "D-d-d-hon!"
His grin stretched. Then, before the bastard died, he pressed the button, releasing all of the species.
"N-n-n-nnnn." John Monx fell face planted the floor, never to see again, as his creations were turned loose to the world.