The New Flesh

When I awoke, I began to weep anew, for the nightmare was real.

Nobody knew where the intruders had come from. Some said an alternate dimension, others said they were aliens. Only a few things were known, and one that was that they had dominated us completely, and without remorse.

We were bound naked by wide steel mesh strips in a kneeling position, two abreast on the conveyor. It moved slowly, but steadily, at the speed of inevitability.

Everyone has asked themselves this question, but I ask it again, why me? Why "US"? I waited tables at a popular downtown patio. My greatest ills were sore feet and tourists who assumed the tip was included. I had ambitions - I was going to write stageplays that would outsell Cats and Phantom combined. Now I'm just trying to think of anything that will set me free.

They creatures were just there one day, and in such great numbers that nobody had time to run, let alone fight. They are tall, with a vivid purple skin that catches light and shimmers like the back of a housefly. They gathered us up into their six strangely muscled arms and away from our lives with no more difficulty than one would pull a puppy from its bed; our screaming little more than yelps and squeaks to them. We were all rendered unconscious then by the cloying scent they give off, like flowers and vomit.

The conveyor takes us around a corner, and I can see the end. A sick yellow light is glowing, and this awful belt runs right through the middle. I strain against my bonds, but I can't slip out from under; the straps follow the shape of my body whichever way I bend. They are not painful - it seems they want us intact and I'm afraid of what that means. My companion to the right is silent. She would be stunningly beautiful in any other circumstance. She has long blonde hair that tumbles over her shoulders, and curtains her breasts from me. I'm glad of that. What should take weeks of flirting, and dating; or perhaps just one intense wonderful night is now laid open in front of me with no mystery, and despair makes me cry again. Her red-rimmed eyes stare only outward and see nothing; she screamed her way into shock hours ago. I want to reach out to her; my final human contact in our last minutes, but she has shut down. I hear the wailing from inside that yellow light, and I envy her.

All too soon, we are closing in on the light, and I know we are going to die. If I was bound at the hands and feet - I would chew myself free. As it is, I just lower my head to the conveyor and start slamming my head down as hard as I can. I don't want to face this awake. The conveyor yields, and refuses to hurt me. The two prisoners ahead of me suddenly fly to their feet, their bonds released. They dash to the sides, trying to flee the awful conveyor, and between them I see the queen. She is the largest by far that I have seen, and between her legs are her roiling, squirming spawn, like purple tapeworms. Two of these fly at the freed captives and enter them. Dozens of flagella rush down the mouths of the victims – others burrow into the skin, and I can see them writhing and digging there, violating the unprotected bodies of these two; my fellow humans. They are trying to scream, but are gagging on the flesh of the aliens. The woman beside me is awake again and screaming. I look away from it all, and see what the others must have seen.

At the very front, the ground drops away beside the conveyor into a deep and rocky chasm.

My restraints pop free.

I hope I am fast enough.

"Conveyor"

Copyright: © 2010 Chris Allinotte

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Chris Allinotte lives and works in Toronto, Ontario. His other writing has appeared on Flashes in the Dark, The Oddville Press, Thrillers, Killers n' Chillers, and MicroHorror. Information on these and other stories can be found on his blog at chrisallinotte.blogspot.com.