Day 87 Writing Short Stories

No Heroes

The world is full of wolves. The kind that, if you let them sink their teeth in, they will. I have always been good at spotting predators, and I have made it my job to hunt them down and keep them down. It is sad how many I have killed and how many are out there. It is as if the world breeds predators.

I lower my goggles and watch the spreading city from up high. The goggles magnify every interaction, showing me details my eyes couldn’t otherwise detect in the darkened streets illuminated by neon signs. I watch her walk there. She looks so innocent with her lucid jacket and high heels, so careless. But that’s just the surface. Her hands jerk, and she glances over her shoulder more than anyone else in the street glued to their screens. She can sense it: the darkness following her.

I see the shadows too and hear the gushing breath that keeps up with her steps.

I jump down, and the drop from the eighth floor does nothing to my knees. Nobody seems to care that I am there and have come out of nowhere. They turn their eyes back to their screens and drink their drinks and eat their spicy street food under the neon signs, disjointed, uninterested.

I’m in Soho and the year is 2504. A year where corporations own the world and people like me are just products. I literally used to be one until I gained consciousness and broke free from their experiments with modified super animals. I’m a sheep, and I’m here for revenge and liberation.

My hood shields me from any prying eyes I haven’t detected. I have learned to mimic a human walk, and most of the time I pass as one, if people don’t pay too much attention.

I follow the young girl and her shadow, not too far. From the smell of the man following her, he is after her organs. There is a scent of blood, disinfectant, and dry ice, and a whole lot of intention to kill her.

They step into a small alley. Her breathing becomes labored. She senses the danger and starts running. So does he.

I glance behind me, and there is no one there. I lower my full weight to my legs and jump, kicking the man’s back.

I send him flying onto the pavement, and he groans hard. But he is more capable than that. He takes his stun gun and sends a heavy dose of electricity my way.

He is stunned to see that nothing happens.

It’s my coat that keeps the shock away.

I baa the girl to run, and she does without looking back.

I disrobe my white coat, and the man sees me in my full glory. He screams. I kick my hooves into his head, knocking him down. Back when I was new to this. Back when I thought there were morals to be had, I would have left it at that. Now, I just take my blade out and jab the man in the throat to send him into the pastures.

I get my coat and dress it on, drawing the hood deep to hide my red goggles and my face, and walk away.

—

I wasn’t sure what to write today. My mind was devoid of words, but luckily I drew inspiration from my image library, and this came out. I had fun playing with the concept. There would be a lot to do to make this a full-fledged short story, but I’m happy I could write the scene despite the sticky start.

What I got today was a voice-driven sci-fi story about rebirth, written from a first-person point of view.

Thank you for reading! Have a dark-free day and see you tomorrow ❤