A ship landed quietly, landing in Randall Island Park. The vessel was small and seed shaped and painted a pale grey. Looking at the ship directly, you wouldn’t see it catching it with the corner of your eye you would find it appear as a slight disturbance, like looking through a glass of water.
A small door opened, and a small brown beetle the size of a coin, resembling a cockroach, emerged. It had two antennae on either side of its body. Its antennae became rigid, coming together and producing a simple tap sound.
At the sound, another beetle disgorged itself from the space ship, identical in every fashion to the first. The second beetle joined the first, produced the tapping sound. A third identical beetle joined the first two, also produced the tapping sound. Another portal opened, and out poured a swarm of beetles, consuming all plants that they touched. Flowers, grass, small animals and trees died in seconds.
As the beetles multiplied, another creature came out. It was slug-like. It pulsated across the ground. It had no eyes or nose, only a huge mouth that could swallow a man whole. The whole body was a simple matted grey colour and it has four antennae atop its head. Once outside it stopped. Using the four antennae on its head. it made a simple, ‘Tap, tap, tap’.
‘Tap, tap, tap’ repeated the beetles from one direction. The slug took off in that direction. The slug flew across the grass and in a single fluid motion collected an early morning jogger listening to music on his headphones.
Waking up groggily, Tolbert sat up to the sounds of metal scraping on metal. Putting a hand to his head, he opened his eyes. His breathing increased; all he could see was darkness, with a small slit from which the light of noonday streamed in. What is going on? Where am I? He brought his hand in front of the slit and noticed that it was encased in chainmail. Am I still playing Medieval Knights? The last thing I remember was getting hit by a semi. Was that real or is this real? Swinging his head around he looked about. The dead and the dying littered the field. Pulling his helmet off, Tolbert stood with a groan. He was alone on the battlefield. Didn't I die? Why am I, now alive?
Tolbert stood and gathered his sword. His stomach then grumbled as he looked around at the open forest and wildland. How far to town? He didn’t remember riding out here where the dead and dying remains of a battle were strewn around him.
As he picked through the corpses of his fellow soldiers, looking for some form of food, he offered mercy where he could. A man begged him to take his life; his stomach lay next to him and his intestines lay wrapped around his legs.
Be brave and strong, for this man must be in a lot of pain. Tolbert offered mercy with a stab through the eye into the man’s brain, ending his suffering. He is in a better place now.
Tolbert managed to find some cheese and bread. Smiling at the find, he sighed and took the food out of Sir Leroy’s knapsack, remembering that the knight liked to eat after battle rather than before. Good old Sir Leroy, couldn’t suffer a battle on a full stomach. The whole scene came to his mind; Sir Leroy couldn’t leave without food in his knapsack and would often bear the brunt of his fellow soldiers laughing at him for insisting on bread and cheese. Looked like he wouldn’t be needing it now.
Leaving the battlefield behind, Tolbert headed to the nearest road. When he found the road, Tolbert looked around. An arrow whizzed past his head, embedding itself into the tree an inch from his face.
“Who are you?” a disembodied voice challenged him, from across the road.
Looking closely at the arrow, Tolbert noticed, it was a broadhead arrow and the shaft was twenty-five inches in length. He broke into a cold sweat. An archer, his hated enemy had him dead to rights. Tolbert raised his hands above his head, the universal sign of surrender.
“I am a humble traveller,” Tolbert responded, a quaver betraying his fear.
“A traveller does not walk around in heavy armour,” the voice stated.
“I mean no one harm,” Tolbert pleaded.
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From across the road stepped an English archer, wearing leather armour, a six-foot yew bow in hand with another arrow nocked, and displaying the red and white of the king.
Stepping on to the road, Tolbert started “My name is...”
The archer raised his bow and let fly the arrow towards Tolbert before he could finish his sentence.
Hit in the chest, he flew backwards, the arrow pinning him through his chest to the tree behind him. As he breathed blood, Tolbert’s eyes went cloudy and faded to blackness.
Tolbert awoke with a start sitting up. He was under a bridge, in his boxer shorts. Under the bridge again. Why couldn’t I be back in my bed? He sighed. Another long walk home. If this was real, I would have died and not come back. Obviously, it must be a dream… could I be in a game? But why is the spawn point under a bridge? If this was a game, then I would wake up in a safe area…. Unless there are no safe areas except under that bridge. Patting himself, checking for wounds, he found himself completely unharmed. This must be real; I remember this happening before. Tolbert stood, taking stock of his surroundings. He was three feet from the river. He could smell the seawater and car exhaust. If this is a game…. Should I log off and go to sleep? If I did that here would I wake where I went to sleep, or would I wake back under the bridge? Wait, this is a different, bridge. Where am I?
A woman in a pale shift, watched as Tolbert climbed up the embankment to the road before she disappeared with a gust of wind.
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The slugs continued taking pedestrians on the street. They took joggers first sticking to the park, and then they began to move into the houses and buildings. The beetles consumed any form of natural material. If it was made out of a plant they consumed it, and they replicated it quickly. At eight in the morning, when people were starting to go to work a slug raced out and grabbed a woman with blond hair and dressed in a business suit. She screamed as the slug dragged her into the park bushes and swallowed her.
A man on the opposite side of the street dropped his jaw, and immediately called emergency.
“A woman was just taken into the park by a giant slug,” he rapidly informed rapidly the operator.
“Sir,” the operator replied in disdain, “this channel is for emergencies only.”
“I am telling you this is a real thing,” he insisted.
“For animal disturbances, please call a pest exterminator” the operator announced and disconnected the line.
The lights changed, and he crossed the road, heading away from the park. He looked back at the park, and it was quiet and serene. Shaking his head, he continued to work, hoping it had just been his imagination
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Down the road a mother pushed her newborn baby in a pram, cooing and laughing at the baby. She heard a ‘tap, tap, tap’ from the hedges just to her left. She stopped and looked into the hedges.
“Hello” she called into the hedges, concern in her voice.
Another ‘tap, tap, tap,’ came from the hedge further down the street. She pushed the pram, looking into the hedges, trying to find the source of the sound.
“Hello,” she called. “Who is there?”
A slug bursts out from the hedge.
The lady screamed as she was dragged into the gaping maw of the large slug.
The beetles swarmed over the pram enveloping and consuming the pram, baby and all. The beetles departed, leaving behind only the ruined remains of the pram.
A lean and trim police officer witnessed the whole incident and dropped his coffee onto the pavement. The officer got his partners attention and pointed to the remains of what had once been the pram.
Frowning upon seeing the pram frame, they both walked to the pram, the first explaining what he had seen. The second police officer’s frown grew a little deeper.
‘Tap, tap, tap’ drifted out of the bushes.
Both policemen turned to look into the bushes.
‘Tap, tap, tap’ echoed from three metres further down.
“Joe go check that one out,” ordered the second officer.
“Yeah, sure thing Bob,” Joe responded, not taking his eyes off the hedge bushes.
Joe walked down the street looking through the bushes searching for the source of the sound.
‘Tap, tap, tap’ resonated again, from in front of Bob.
Joe flicked up his eyes looking at Bob.
“What is making that sound?” queried Joe.
“Don’t know,” shouted Bob from the remains of the pram. “I can’t see anything”
Joe walked back.
A slug’s tongue shot out from the bushes where it was hiding and wrapped around Bob.
Joe drew his firearm.
Bob struggled against the tongue as it pulled him into the bushes. Screams came from the people around as they tried to find cover from the gun and the inevitable shoot-out that would follow a police officer in danger.
Joe radioed control asking for back up saying that Bob was being attacked by an unknown.
Then Joe stepped through the bushes following Bob. He spotted the slug facing him. Its mouth closed as it chewed and digested Bob.
Sirens blared out as police came to the aid of their fellow officer. Joe pointed his gun at the slug and fired.
The bullet impacted the slug, gouging a hole in its side. The slug shivered and split.
Joe watched in horror as the slug that had just eaten his partner became two.
He reached for his radio and informed control about what had grabbed Bob. Joe rattled off its description.
One of the slugs moved off to Joe’s left and the other remained facing Joe. It opened its mouth, and its tongue came out, grabbing Joe. He called out more information into his radio as the tongue dragged him into the huge gaping maw. Crunching sounds were transmitted over the radio as Joe was consumed.