short fic

# IN THE BELLY OF THE BEAST

The beast was a slow digester. Thousands of years, some said, though who knows. Certainly long enough for those in the belly of the beast to meet and accept despair as a constant companion and friend.

They lived as much as they could within the belly. Consumed the animals that appeared or were consumed in turn. But there was no way out for any creature that found itself within the belly. Only the bleak certainty that eventually there would be death and digestion, melted away until not even bones remained.

Structures had been built within the belly. False islands created by piling together vegetation, old bones, and wreckage from where prey had tried and failed to hide from the beast.

There were the mouldering remains of sailing ships and small fishing vessels alongside the shattered logs of woodland cabins and protective walls that had failed to protect their towns.

The beast did not care for land or sea. It wandered where it wanted, when it wanted, and it ate whatever it desired with an aloof kind of impunity.

There was nothing that could stop the beast and no one that could stand against it. All the world was prey to its insatiable hunger.

Those that lingered within the darkness of the beast’s gullet knew that they were dead, though they had not yet lain down in death. They were simply waiting for time to catch up to them, hopelessly counting down the minutes, hours, days, and years until the last bit of them was worn away and forced down the deeper passage towards the only way out.

There would be light. Earth, wind, water, and rain. But they would be merely fertilizer for new growth, not an enjoyer of living.

Because they were inside the belly of the beast. Already dead; just waiting to die.

=END=

Let's Make Dumplings at Amazon

REMNANTS OF THE FEAST

Life had gotten hard, ever since the end of the world.

The collapse of civilization wasn’t the party scene that some idiots had thought it would be. Their stashes of "TEOTWAWKI" supplies had only lasted them long enough for them to regret ever wishing for the end of the world.

If they could have gone back to their comfortable, largely worry-free lives they would have. But they had disdained the banality of a comfortable life to the point of resenting a working society. So they had toppled civilization just to prove that they could.

And then the interdimensional tear had opened and the demons had come pouring out. And everything had already been so broken that there was no real resistance against them. All the weapons had already been turned against other humans, and the resources had already been spent. There was nothing to support the fight against the invaders.

The only silver lining was that the demons had never intended to stay.

They attacked and pillaged and returned back through the rift, taking millions of human slaves with them. But they hadn’t stayed.

They had taken everything they wanted–food, gold, gems, priceless minerals–and destroyed so much more, but they hadn’t stayed. Hadn’t declared themselves the rulers of the Earth and conquered humanity.

They had simply come, trampled everything, and left. Leaving humanity to pick themselves up from the wreckage and struggle to survive.

Whatever their weapons were, they had changed the magnetic poles of the planet. Warped them somehow in ways Zayne didn’t understand even after it was "clearly" explained to him.

All he knew was that electricity no longer worked the way it used to. Most electronic devices had become useless scraps of metal and melting plastic. The few electronic devices that could still work were the most basic ones without magnets or circuits or whatever had made humans so proud of their cleverness.

All he knew was that cars didn’t work. Boats didn’t work. Oil and gas had somehow been turned into useless sludge. And even the simplest click-to-turn-on rice cooker had become nothing more than a paperweight.

It was a luxury to be able to start a fire and cook over it with a pot. Because there was no longer the technology to extract iron ore from the ground, much less transform it into stainless steel.

"Humans have been mining for resources for all of existence!" one of the loudmouths had yelled. Then he’d gradually gotten quiet and slunk away once it was pointed out that humans had long since dug up every bit of easily reached resource, and it was only the stuff buried so deep that it took heavy machinery to pry it loose that remained. And none of those machines worked anymore.

Humans had been relegated back to using shovels and pickaxes. To backbreaking labor and dying in the depths of the earth as oxygen tanks and air conditioning were no longer possible.

The things that already existed might very well be priceless artifacts. Especially since anything made from plastic had melted into goo as their molecules had shifted.

The first month after the demons left had been horrifying. Everyone was reeling from the shock of what had happened and were scrambling to stay alive and to check if their loved ones were still alive.

It had been a time of grief and guilt and a growing awareness that everything had changed forever. That the technological age had been brutally ended and would likely never be coming back.

And then the first nuclear meltdown had occurred. Completely unstoppable as there were no machines to pump the water. No rad counters to scream the warnings. Nothing for technicians to do but to try and run, but where could they go?

Because there was a second nuclear meltdown. And a third. A fourth. A fifth. More.

All around the world, the toys of humanity began to break.

Bioweapons were released. Containment failed. Nuclear reactors and nuclear weapons began melting down. Publicly known labs and hidden labs no longer had working failsafes. Everything began breaking down in a domino effect of destruction.

The end of the world happened and kept on happening and every day was worse than the one before. And there was nothing to be done to make any of it better because the choices that damned them had been made long before most of them were born.

Zayne had been relieved to survive, but now he wondered what it had all been for. So that he could face a slower, more drawn out death with hope dwindling away to nothing as despair took its place?

"I’m hungry," a small voice said.

Zayne turned to look at his little sister. She was so small, the baby fat melted away until her head looked too big for her skeletal body with only her unnaturally bloated belly protruding before her. Her hair was thin and lank, the strands brittle and unhealthy due to malnutrition. There were mottled red and blue bruises on her face and neck and down under her sweater; they had started appearing one day without any obvious cause, though he knew it was a bad sign.

He smiled at her. "Let me get you something."

He saved all the best food for her, trying to make these last days a bit less miserable, though there wasn’t much he could do. There was less and less edible food to be found, and he’d had several rough encounters with other people scavenging through the wreckage.

A teenager facing down full grown adults didn’t often have a good result. There were too many times when he’d had his supplies snatched away soon after he’d found them and there was nothing he could do about it. He simply had to accept his own helplessness and keep doing what he could. Maddie depended on him to keep her alive now that their parents were gone.

He went to his favorite hidey hole and opened it up to take out a single can of SPAM. "Look what I’ve got," he said with forced cheerfulness. "We’re going to eat good tonight."

He’d been saving the SPAM, but looking at Maddie he felt that it was better to eat it now rather than later. If he waited much longer… He didn’t want to think about it, but he didn’t think that they had much longer.

Even without a mirror he could see that same bruising on his own skin. His teeth ached and felt loose in his mouth. And there was discomfort when he went to the bathroom. Added all together, he figured their days could be counted in single digits. So why save all the good things until they could no longer be enjoyed?

Maddie hovered at his side as he open the can and used a knife to help wiggle the block of SPAM out onto a small plate. She clasped her hands under her chin and licked her lips, her eyes trained on the food.

"Honey," he said, "go get a couple of juice cans."

"Juice cans? We can have juice cans? I thought we were saving them," she said.

"We were saving them. We were saving them for right now," he said. "Go get one for each of us. We’re having a feast tonight."

She smiled, and he tried not to notice that her gums were visibly inflamed. "A feast! A feast! We’re going to have a feast! Is this Christmas?"

Zayne knew that it was sometime in September, but he still agreed. "Yeah. This is our Christmas time. We’re going to fill our bellies and sleep so good tonight, and tomorrow there will be presents, because you’ve been such a good girl."

She stumbled to where the juice cans were hidden, no longer able to run with her spindly legs, but her excitement was clear. She came back with two 7.2 ounce sized aluminum cans of apple juice. The small cans looking large in her tiny hands.

He pulled her close against his side to share his body warmth. He split the SPAM equally with her and opened her can of juice. "Eat up."

He’d cut the SPAM into small pieces and she ate them slowly, chewing each bite into mush before swallowing. He could hear her making a happy humming sound as she chewed, pausing only when she swallowed. She savored each sip of her juice, swishing it around in her mouth.

He felt like crying, but he refused to show any sign of his sadness. She was so young, she deserved to have a happy moment. And if she didn’t understand how completely dire their situation was, he would protect her from that truth. Because he was all she had and he refused to abandon her.

The world had fallen apart and everyone was going to die, but the two of them were alive for right now. And if right now was all that they had, he would make the best of it. He would give her all the Christmases and birthdays she was going to miss. Would fill her last moments with as much happiness as he could squeeze out.

It was with a sense of purpose that he finished dinner then settled her on the bed and began telling her a fairytale of happier times. Kissed her forehead and wished her sweet dreams just as their mother used to do when she was still alive.

Then, once he was sure she was asleep, he wandered around the house searching for something he could wrap up as a gift.

It was when he was searching through their parents’ closet that he came across a shoebox hidden far back on the top shelf. When he brought it down, he laid it on the floor and lifted the lid.

His breath caught. He sorted through the things in the shoebox, his hands trembling as he realized what he was looking at.

His eyes filled with tears. Not of sadness or loss but of rage.

Ever since he accepted that his parents were dead and never coming back, he had grieved them and tried to do the best he could do for his sister. He didn’t want them watching him from the afterlife and hating him for not being a good brother.

He had struggled so hard because he couldn’t stand the thought of his dead parents being disappointed in him.

But if what he was seeing in the shoebox was true, his parents weren’t dead.

They had abandoned him and Maddie. Had chosen to leave them behind because including them would have cost more money than they were willing to spend.

He flipped through the "apology" letter his mother had left him. And it didn’t feel like she was really sorry, more as though she was preemptively soothing herself so she didn’t have to feel guilty for what she’d done.

Her letter started with "Dearest Zayne," but it felt more as though she was saying "Fuck You," as everything that followed the greeting was nothing but a betrayal.

His mom and dad were in some kind of fallout shelter somewhere. They had known the end of the world was coming. Had known that the Earth’s magnetic poles were going to shift. That the "demons" were coming and that civilization was going to break down and technology would cease to work.

They had known what was going to happen because there were no demons. There was no interdimensional tear. There were only people in biohazard suits that made them look like demons, attacking and stealing everything so they could hoard resources while they let everyone else die.

They had kidnapped everyone they thought might be useful, killed those that tried to stop them, and helped to hasten the end of everything. Because they were selfish. Cruel. Evil to the core.

There hadn’t been real demons attacking the Earth, but there had definitely been monsters. Human demons bringing Hell wherever they went.

His parents had chosen to join those monsters. Had paid money to join them. To save themselves from the horrors they knew were to come.

And when he looked at the included pamphlets, he realized that even in this letter his mother was obscuring the truth to make herself feel better.

They had left him and Maddie behind to die horribly because they weren’t willing to pay the extra money required to bring children into the fallout shelter.

She had hidden this letter in a shoebox in the back of her closet. It made him think that she wrote the letter to absolve herself of some sense of guilt, but she hadn’t really wanted him to find it. Had wanted him to die never knowing that she had abandoned him and Maddie.

Because there were letters in the box from the organizers of the facilities. Proof that payments had been made, accounts had been arranged, and that his parents had booked themselves the deluxe package that would have them living a life of luxury in their assigned shelter.

If they had bought a basic package, they could have afforded to take him and Maddie. But instead they had focused on their own comfort.

And for their comfort, he and Maddie had been left to die.

Zayne sat on the floor of the walk-in closet, surrounded by the clothes his parents had left behind, and he cried as much as he could with a body so dehydrated that it could only produce a handful of tears before his eyes were dry and sore.

His parents had known the world was going to end. Had planned for it. And in their plans, he and Maddie were sacrifices they hadn’t hesitated to make.

His parents could have taken him and Maddie with them. Saved them. But chose not to. Chose to leave without a single goodbye while he struggled every day to keep himself and his sister alive.

Finally he stumbled to his feet and left his parents’ room, not wanting to know anymore. Instead, he climbed into bed with Maddie and wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close through the blanket. Pressed his face against her dry brittle hair and silently promised that he would never leave her.

Their parents had abandoned them to die. But he would not leave Maddie.

He would keep her alive and safe for as long as he could and he would make every moment as happy as he could. Because their parents were monsters. But he was human.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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A City On Mars at Amazon

TITLE: In a Paper World Full of Paper People
AUTHOR: Harper Kingsley
GENRE: science fiction, introspection

It was called “paper skin,” though its real scientific name was something long and largely unpronounceable. Everyone knew what paper skin was though. The fear of it was an ever growing concern. A rising stress level that left parents weeping in the night as they feared they or their children would be infected.

It was highly communicable. Lingering on hard surfaces for four hours and in fabric for close to ten. And once it got inside the human body, its effects were swift and devastating.

Blood that refused to clot and skin layers that became thin and brittle to the point that simply touching anything with an edge could cause the skin to split open.

A person with paper skin could die from a paper cut. A simple touch could cause the inside to come outside as the person bled and bled.

It was horrifying to watch. But hard to look away. Because there was no cure, no vaccine, no treatment other than to never let the infected ever come to harm.

The victims of paper skin lived in bubbles or muffled themselves with layers of cloth. They kept bandages on them at all times and carried injectors full of drugs that were supposed to help their blood coagulate. But in the end, it was a paper towel to hold back a river. Even if it took years, no one survived paper skin.

They were separated. Segregated. Surrounded by people wearing hazardous material suits, because their blood always seemed to want out of their bodies, and their blood carried the infection that was taking their lives.

People feared having paper skin. Dreaded it and fought the inevitably of it, this human plague that was taking hundreds and thousands of lives with every passing day.

The world had become harsh and terrifying. The invisible prickles on a maple seed became like hypodermic needles. The edge of a table became a blade. The strands of a person’s hair or the licking of a cat’s tongue could result in flesh shearing off to the bone.

Every day was a day of neverending fear. Mortality had never felt so close at hand. Yet here it was.

The world was full of paper people desperately avoiding the rain. Coating themselves in wax, but knowing that nothing lasts forever. It only exists for right now.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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https://kimichee.com.

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An Elderly Lady is Up to No Good at Amazon

The End of the World As They Knew It

They used to have a big family. Wendy remembered that there had always been a lot of people around. She used to have to search to find someplace to be alone, most times ending up crawling under the couch in the small space that only she could fit in. She would hide in her couch "fort" and eat pilfered cheese and crackers that she didn’t have to share with her siblings.

Even before everything Went Bad, there had been a lot of times where they didn’t have enough to eat. All the Bad Stuff happening only meant there was less to eat. Less people, but also less food. There were lots of times where she was so hungry, but all she could do was lie down and go to sleep. She felt less hungry when she was asleep.

Now there was just her, her two years older sister Amalia, her three years older sister Stella, and her five years older brother Daniel. Their parents and two brothers and four sisters… were gone. (Dead. She knew what dead was. She just didn’t like to think of the word and what it meant.)

Daniel was the oldest one left and he was in charge. He was twelve years old, almost a teenager, and he was in charge.

He led them around to scavenge food and supplies from the surrounding area. The local grocery store had already been cleared out by the strangers that had passed through in a big pickup truck. They had watched all the food being taken away, but Daniel had forced them to stay quiet and small, because the people that had taken everything had been bigger and stronger and carried guns.

Daniel had held his hand over Wendy’s mouth, and his breath had been smelly against her face as he’d whispered for his sisters to be quiet. "We don’t know who they are. They look dangerous. What if they eat little kids?"

They’d watched all the food being taken away, and they’d hid and waited until the truck was long gone. And after that the only way they could survive was to go in and out of the neighboring houses, hauling what they could back home using a child’s plastic wagon that someone had hand painted with clumsy looking flowers and leaves.

First they took the foods they recognized, along with blankets and tools. Then when the recognizable food was gone, they had to start puzzling out what other things were.

Their parents had called themselves unschoolers, which meant Wendy and her siblings got to stay home and teach themselves whatever they wanted to learn. Mama had said that there was plenty of time to learn how to read in the future if they ever wanted to. Learning to read was easy, they could do it later when they were grown up and wanted to get jobs and do boring things like reading books and filing paperwork.

But now, for the first time in her young life, Wendy really wished that she knew how to read.

Because after they’d gathered all the food they recognized, they were stuck now trying to figure out what other things were. Who would have thought that there were so many cans and boxes that didn’t have pictures on them?

Last night they’d opened a can of what they’d thought would be chicken noodle soup but turned out to be graying white goop with black and gray bits in it. Daniel had recognized it as mushroom soup, and they’d heated it over the propane stove and eaten it with little hexagonal crackers they’d found in a glass canister in their four houses down neighbor’s house.

That was another thing that made it hard for them. A lot of people didn’t leave their food in their original containers. There were pantries full of plastic and glass bottles and canisters holding pasta and oats and rice and weird brown grain bits that were so hard they made Wendy’s teeth hurt.

Today they were inside the house of their six houses down neighbor. Daniel had broken the backdoor window and used a twisted wire hanger to reach inside and unlock the door.

Amalia and Stella were going in and out of the bedrooms to find blankets and warm clothes because winter was coming. Daniel was in the pantry, and Wendy was going through the kitchen cabinets. All four of them were supposed to keep an eye out for any spare propane bottles.

Wendy climbed up on the counter using a step ladder she’d found and walked back and forth opening the cabinet doors to peer inside. Dishes in one, pill bottles in another, a cabinet full of cooking spices and bottles of vegetable oil. She was disappointed that she hadn’t found anything good like old Halloween candy or bottles of sweet juice.

Then in a lonely side cabinet she found a glass jar all alone. It was full of what she thought might be sugar, but the lid was screwed on so tight that she couldn’t open it to check. There was a strip of freezer tape on the side of the bottle, but she didn’t know what the black Sharpie words said.

Cradling the jar against her chest, she carefully climbed down off the counter and ran toward the pantry.

"Daniel! Daniel! I found something!" she called.

Daniel had a black garbage bag he was putting things into, but there didn’t seem to be much. The home owners must not have gone to the grocery store in a while.

"What did you find?" he asked.

Wendy shrugged. "I don’t know. It was in one of the cabinets. What does it say?" she asked, holding the jar out.

Daniel squinted at the label, biting his lip. "Um. That’s a R, and that’s a O, and that’s a… P? And that’s a… a 3, and that’s a M, and that’s a T, I know T, and that’s a 1, and that’s a C, and another 1, and another P, and a 3."

"But what does it say?" Wendy asked, frustrated. Daniel was the best reader amongst them, but there were a lot of words he didn’t know. It made her mad because she knew even less words but really wanted to know them all.

Daniel’s lips moved and his eyes were extra shiny, but he didn’t cry. "I… I don’t know." He pursed his lips, then used all his strength to unscrew the lid. The powder shifted around inside the jar, alluring in its mystery.

"Is it sugar?" Wendy asked, licking her lips. They’d found a lot of unfamiliar powders and syrupy liquids that had turned out to be different kinds of sugar, including some dark brown "syrup" that had turned out to be honey. It had tasted so good on the last bits of unmoldy bread they’d found.

"I don’t know. Let me see," Daniel said. He licked his forefinger and dipped it into the powder. He sniffed it then carefully licked. "Oh, it’s sweet! I think it’s one of those fake sugars. I like this. We’ll take it back." He started to close the jar.

"Wait! Let me taste it too," Wendy pleaded.

Daniel sighed but proffered the jar toward his little sister. "One taste"

Wendy smiled and licked her finger. "Okay!"

Neither child recognized the word written prominently on the side of the jar. Thick black capital letters written clearly so no one could misunderstand the contents inside: RODENTICIDE

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

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https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

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