Little Robot in a Giant City

I finally received the results of a writing contest I entered. It is called a flash fiction challenge, in which the contestants write a short story of no more than 1,000 maximum, and must conform to certain parameters. For the first part of the first round, I had to write a horror story that took place mostly on or near a barge, and incorporated the appearance of an ice pack in some way. My score was a lot less favorable than I had hoped; nevertheless, I am proud of what I wrote, so I am sharing that here. Enjoy.

Ben found a quiet spot on a bank overlooking the harbor, which he visited sometimes. He always sat there when the world felt heavy and terrible. His spot inspired calm, peace, and confidence, and he had come to value it more than any person he knew, even in his own family.

Ben sat on the grass, entranced by the red light of the sunset reflecting off the water, holding an ice pack to the sore lump on his forehead. A barge broke the perfect shimmer as it crept into the harbor. Out of frustration, he threw a pill bottle into the water.

Earlier that day, a man attacked him in the street, in broad daylight. He was walking to get lunch when someone tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned, someone punched Ben in the head. No one lifted a finger to help or even called the police. Somehow, he lost his own phone, leaving him to stumble to the hospital by himself. He didn’t have insurance right now, and his life wasn’t in immediate danger, so the doctor sent him away with some ibuprofen and an ice pack. At least those were free. He felt like his safety and comfort had been violated, and he couldn’t believe that no one tried to help him. Ben started to think that it might be time to move.

A deep horn sounded, drawing Ben out of his reverie. He stared at the barge it for a time. He wished he knew how to live his life at the same pace—it may be slow, but it always did its job. He wondered if it stopped anywhere and whether, or not, he could swim out to it and steal a ride. This barge was laden with trash, however, and the thought of riding in a trash pile killed the romanticism.

“Don’t those things take trash out to sea?” Ben thought to himself. Something fell from the barge into the water. His tired mind dismissed it, and he returned to his enjoyment of the sunset.

Some moments later, something splashed where the bank met the water with lazy ferocity. He watched, thinking some bottom feeders must be fighting over something tasty. His breathing stopped when a woman’s head broke the surface. Sun reflected off her pale skin. Dark locks of hair wrapped around her muscular arms, which she used to pull herself ashore. She heaved and flopped onto the shore, and a great fin came out of the water. She rested on her back, her breathing slow and heavy.

Ben stood and slowly walked closer, ice pack still held to his head, his eyes fixed on her fin, glistening in the failing sun like crystal. He followed its path along shiny scales, in tints and shades of green, pink, and blue, to her abdomen, where her human appearance resumed, her face and breasts caressed by hair sticking to her body. She was beautiful.
He heard, then, a quiet humming, and he knew peace and joy. He watched as the mermaid’s fin began to change shape. It shrank, and her lower body separated into two limbs—not truly legs, but no longer a single body and fin. She stood and stumbled. He caught her in his arms. She stared into his eyes, into him. She had such beautiful eyes, so affectionate.

She caressed his face. Her touch felt so gentle, Ben thought her hands might be made of silk. She looked at the ice pack. The edges of her lips curled down into the slightest of frowns. With great care, she pulled the ice pack away from Ben’s head. She caressed his cheek before giving his wound a tender kiss. She kissed it a second time, longer and with a strange excitement. Ben thought this was strange, but the soothing sounds of the humming quickly erased those thoughts.

As she drew her lips from his wound, she smiled. She smiled wider than any human could. Her mouth opened, and she began to sing a quiet song. Somewhere in Ben’s mind, a voice was screaming for him to run, but he could not hear it over her gentle song of serenity.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, and he kneeled before her. Her mouth opened to an impossible size. The song continued. The screaming voice in his mind grew louder, but it could not reach him. Her proboscis penetrated his skull where his wound had been.

Ben could do nothing but stare into the distance, watching the barge crawl further into the harbor, oblivious to him and the mermaid. He felt no pain. The final rays of light disappeared. The color drained from everything. The song grew louder, and it was all the more lovely for it. She held his head in her hands as one would lover, even as she fed from him.

Ben stared at the barge one last time. Dozens upon dozens of mermaids leaped off the barge and swam towards shore in all directions. “How wonderful their song will be,” he thought.