A Close Encounter

(C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 17, 2015.  This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Alastair Forbes
(C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 17, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Alastair Forbes

When I first regained consciousness, I was afraid to open my eyes. I have heard of the rumors they spoke of. He was known as ‘The Re-assembler’. They called him that because he takes you apart, limb by painful limb, then he reassembles you, plunging new parts into your sockets, then he leaves you there, forgotten, to bleed to your death.

But eventually I opened my eyes, and the sight that greeted me was worse than death. I was in a graveyard, with corpses lain everywhere. Then I saw The Re-assembler. The stories failed to mention that he was a giant. He peered at me curiously behind bespectacled
eyes. I squirmed beneath the scrutiny, but I was caught in his vice-grip.

This was it. This is my end. I told myself as I embraced for what was yet to come.

The Re-assembler suddenly straightened himself from his squatting position, a new spark behind his eyes as if an idea has just occurred to him. He whirled around, muttering to himself, “Where did I put that sword…”

Sword! Is he going to cut me apart?!

But my panic was unnecessary. Without warning, the Re- assembler bellowed in rage and began hopping on one foot. I rotated my body as much as I can in the vice-grip and
realized he has stepped on an ice-cream truck. Then my world came crashing to the floor. It all happened so quickly. But I took in the facts: I was back on the floor, and the grip around me was loosened. The Re-assembler was spread-eagled on the floor.

This is my chance! I need to escape!!

Discombobulated, but with adrenaline coursing through my body, I gathered the energy to pry myself out of The Re-assembler’s hands and boarded the ice cream truck, which still functioned, oddly enough, and drove myself away from that land of horrors.

Word count: 312

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A Close Encounter

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