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LADY JANE

Locusts are coming

By Pamela Williams /Perthena#2476Published 3 years ago Updated 2 years ago 3 min read
6

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But then, Locusts invade space between galaxies, and as they enter the dimension, the screeches are deafening.

Lady Jane runs where reddish leaves sway on branches over the road, her heart pounding, blood dripping from her knees. A silver car screeches to a halt. She runs to the thing purring up ahead, opens the door, slides in, and glances over at the driver. “Go, go go,” she says as she stretches the hem of her dress below her knees and looks over her shoulder out the rear window. “Locusts are coming.”

The driver revs the engine and accelerates 0-150 mph. He negotiates tree-lined corners, skims the road, then guides the machine high above the trees. Slammed back against the seat, she thinks, no, this isn’t a combustion engine. This is the engine her grandmother warned her about.

“Stop,” Lady Jane yells. “Let me out.”

“Let me out.” She knows she ran to the very thing she was running from. “Please stop this engine. I don’t want to go with you; I want to go home and be with my grandma.”

She hears him grunt as he grinds the gears. She smells rot, and she gags. Her face--streams of tears. She vomits, wishing she had stayed home in her comfortable, safe bed. “Oh, grandma,” she cries aloud. “Grandma,” she screams.

She knows it’s too late. She’ll never see her grandma again. She’ll never see her room again. She’ll never go to school again. She knows.

He slams onto a forest roadway, a gritty path of potholes and bumps, the realm of the dead. He holds the steering wheel with one hand while loosening his black tie with the other. He turns his head to stare at her. His eyes are yellow.

Eyes of a flesh-eater.

Lady Jane kicks the door open, jumps, rolls in gravel, and then runs through a sugar-cane field to hide beneath the stalks near a rotting woodshed. She hides until she can no longer hear grit under tires or the whooshing sound the machine makes when skimming the earth. She waits until the sun goes down, trembling and plagued by the breeze and the crescendos of screeching insects swirling around her in a macabre dance—the dance of death and music of mayhem.

She waits. She waits until morning comes. She waits for a glimmer of light.

When the sun rises, she finds a stream and splashes cool water on her face. She walks in tall, swaying grass just off the roadway and wonders what system this is. Unable to find access to the system from which she came, she hobbles back to the old shed and pushes on the door as rain begins sprinkling the field. The door moans and creaks open. She shudders and speculates this inscrutable chaos, this monster or man must be no other than the demon Abaddon, and this must be hell. She steps inside and scans the dirt floor for a place to rest. She hears the door creak behind her, turns, and sees yellow eyes.

“I knew you’d be here,” he says. “You’ve nowhere to go.” His skin rolls down the contours of his face—teeth as yellow as his eyes.

This is the day Lady Jane had dreaded since childhood when she’d learned to exist meant one would die.

He slams the shed door and moves toward Lady Jane as dust particles fill the air and sparkle like stars in a stream of light shining through the window. Lady Jane closes her eyes and remembers stars sparkling over the gentle currents of the sea.

fiction
6

About the Creator

Pamela Williams /Perthena#2476

"Every little thing's gonna be all right." :)

Reader insights

Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

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  1. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

  2. Easy to read and follow

    Well-structured & engaging content

  3. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

  1. Expert insights and opinions

    Arguments were carefully researched and presented

  2. Eye opening

    Niche topic & fresh perspectives

  3. Heartfelt and relatable

    The story invoked strong personal emotions

  4. Masterful proofreading

    Zero grammar & spelling mistakes

  5. On-point and relevant

    Writing reflected the title & theme

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Comments (3)

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  • Hannah Moore7 months ago

    The sense of the inescapable is so well done. I am terrified of this world!

  • Mackenzie is right. This is perfectly dizzyingly paced.

  • Mackenzie Davis7 months ago

    Holy wow, Pamela! I'm in love with the pacing here, it's exhilarating and my heart is racing! And the way you end it too, so uniquely from all other horror, that call back to the beginning of locusts coming through the dimensions. It's a soft end, a whimper, almost. I absolutely love it. So so well done!

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