Little Monsters by Philip Caveney

Author:Philip Caveney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, graphic, scared, monsters, blood, gore, chilling
Publisher: Fledgling Press
Published: 2014-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

Assassin

I’m alive. Yes, I am most definitely alive.

This probably seems an odd thing to say. What’s so unusual about that, you might think, and I can appreciate your puzzlement. But you see, a moment ago I was not alive, I did not exist at all. Or if I did, I was completely unaware of the fact. And now, quite suddenly, I exist, I am able to think and feel and reason, and this to me is a wonder of quite unbelievable scale. I feel positively drunk with the magic of it.

Imagine if you will, a baby fresh born into the world, but with all the intelligence and experience of an adult and you may begin to touch on the awe of the moment. To suddenly blink into being, as though God just flicked the switch on some celestial electrical appliance and here I am, fully formed and hungry for new experiences.

Don’t try looking for me, by the way. You cannot see me. I am infinitesimal in scale, a mere speck of matter, invisible even to your sophisticated eyes. Just as well really. If I had discernible form and shape, if I wore a brightly patterned jacket like some of the more exotic species of poisonous snakes and lizards, everyone would avoid me like the plague, if you’ll forgive a rather lame pun. Being invisible has its advantages.

Where am I? Here. Right here on the plate beneath this gauze cover. I’m lodged securely in the moist flesh of the chicken leg that you’ve been trying unsuccessfully to get at for the last half an hour. In fact, one of the first sounds I recognised as I came to life was that of your frustrated buzzing. Of course, it took a few moments for me to develop sufficient intelligence to be able to identify you, but now I know exactly who or rather, what you are. A blowfly. A dipterous fly of the genus Calliphora, sometimes called a bluebottle. Your speciality is of course, laying eggs in rotting meat or animal dung. A charming pastime to be sure and I applaud your industriousness, but your comparatively large scale has rendered you impotent in this instance and your loss will be my gain.

What am I doing? I’m waiting. Waiting for something to turn up. I won’t bother trying to explain to you how I came to be here; your limited intelligence does not equip you to understand the intricacies of cell division. As to my current position, that’s easy enough to conjecture. Mine host, the chicken leg, was evidently part of a meal prepared by a family of the species, homo sapiens, and it was placed here in case a member of the family required a quick snack later. Quite probably somebody intended putting the leg in the machine over there, (genus refrigerator, species Zanussi) when the meat had cooled.

But they must have forgotten all about it and it’s been standing here long enough to provide the basic chemistry to facilitate my birth. On a warm day like this, four hours is all it takes.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.