Revenge of the ducks

I sit there, switching my attention between her plate of food and the rubber duck placed right next to my glass of water. My stomach lurches as she cuts the duck meat, spears it quickly with a fork, then lifts the piece beyond my view. 

“Why aren't you eating?” She asks nonchalantly. I look up for a moment and she has just stuffed yet another piece of duck meat into her mouth, like we never watched the movie. My stomach lurches once again. I look down at my untouched plate of food, chicken. 

Picking up the fork, I make a feeble attempt to eat the chicken.

*

We had spent the last 3 hours watching “Revenge of the ducks” at the movie theatre. Honestly, there was nothing else to watch, and a movie about birds was certainly different from the norm. Hence, we bought the tickets and popcorn, then walked down the hallway into the dark cinema. 

For the next few hours, we watched as cute ducks first swarmed ponds and lakes, quacked non-stop and kept getting fed bread. Then, it went on to secret meetings in the middle of the night about how there was injustice to the “Quacking” world, to ducks flying across the country to deliver news to other duck communities that they should rebel together to take over the world. 

The ducks were all animations, yet they looked fairly realistic. No strange smiley faces on beaks or neck whatsoever, the way they animate things like talking oranges. It also gave some useful facts such as not feeding ducks bread, but instead foods like peas and fruits. 

However, the show soon escalated to duck soldiers and duck protests. Loud quacking filled the cinema, and humans were shown to attack the ducks with sticks and weapons. However, the ducks soon destroyed them in a show of feathers, feet, and beaks. The humans were brutally murdered, and then it was the next part of the plan. 

Next, the ducks swarmed roads, flew into houses; assaulting any human that came close to destroying any of their comrades. They entered the President's office, stole the nuclear codes in a loud, absolutely crazy fashion filled with quacking and defecating. Thereafter, they claimed the land back from the humans, placed the humans that opposed them in jail. Only the people that fed ducks at the park with peas and fruits were spared. Hence, the ducks ruled unopposed as a duck kingdom.  

It was a highly graphic show; its directors were unafraid of showing gory scenes of massacred humans. It showed the power and might of the ducks, and as a horror movie, it did its job. All those in the cinema were scared out of their wits or screaming in fear every time there was a battle between the humans and the waterfowl. At the last scene, the image of the duck king filled the entire screen and a loud, possibly evil, possibly proud quack was emitted, before the screen turned black for the final time. This caused someone to throw their entire box of popcorn into the air in shock. To me I would say, it destroyed the entire aura and suspense of the whole scene.

Then, my friend and I left the cinema, and collected the free rubber duck given to every movie goer watching this show. Actually, I was stumbling along, scenes of the movie replaying in my mind in a non-stop loop, still scaring me as the distance between the cinema and I increased. 

And you know what, my friend was totally unperturbed. Much better, she can even eat duck meat after watching a movie about ducks taking over the world from humans. There were at least 10 occurrences where the ducks used captivity as a reason to destroy humans. And you still want to eat farmed duck meat?  

At least, there is no chicken revolution yet. 

*

My street in the middle of the night, the moon reflecting light in the sky, the street lamps casting pools of light every few meters onto the ground.

I am standing in the middle of the road. The houses are dark, its occupants asleep. There is utter silence. 

Plat! Plat! Plat! This sound, from barely audible to faintly heard to discernible, increases in volume. Footsteps, I think. But not of human origin. 

It sounds like it is made by someone, or maybe even something, that has large feet dripping water. 

Webbed feet, I think. Ducks, I realise as my heart pounds. 

A sea of white and orange appears from out of the blue-black. Their webbed feet, still dripping water, are moving up and down in perfect synchronicity. Calls of quack, unlike the marching, are random and messy; overlapping each other, yet they give an aura of menacing terror. I want to run, but I am rooted to the spot. 

“Please don't kill me.” I mutter to myself, scanning the surroundings to find a way to escape. 

“WHO ARE YOU?” a voice booms out. A giant orange loudspeaker appears amid the sea of white feathers. So they have amazing hearing too, I think, getting more frightened by the moment. 

“YOU ATE ROASTED DUCK LAST NIGHT! IN YOUR STOMACH IS THE CORPSE OF ONE OF OUR KIND!” The voice continues to bellow. 

“HALF OF US WILL CHARGE AND DESTROY HER, THE REST WILL PAY RESPECTS TO THE DEAD!” 

Before I can react, the birds are swarming towards me and the air fills with quacks of all kinds. 

*

I wake up, heart pounding, sweat on my forehead. I am still panting from the vision when I sit up and notice the sunlight streaming in from the window. I am not on the road, but instead in my own house, I calm myself down as I get off the bed. It is all a dream. Yet, I have this feeling that is not to be. 

Taking out my phone, I open the message from my friend. [Where “Revenge of the Ducks” came from?][link]. This feeling gets stronger; like ducks are truly going to take over the world. Yet, there is nothing different recently, the ducks in the nearby pond are still gliding serenely across the waters, being fed, quacking away for the attention of the pond visitors. They do not seem to be plotting anything. However, this sense of unease persists.

I begin to watch the video. The script writer stated that he had noticed some unusual behaviour among ducks in the nearby pond, he claims “like they were plotting something”. Hence, he wrote a movie about ducks. 

This fact seems to confirm my sense of unease. Yet, there is nothing to back up what I am feeling besides what the script writer said. You keep remembering scenes from the movie, get over it okay? I tell myself. 

I try not to think about the movie for the rest of the day. 

*

I sit down for dinner with my mother. I lay the table, bring out some water, then sit down to wait for her. 

“Roast duck, dear.” She says as she plonks half a duck onto the table between us. “I just collected it this afternoon.” She continues, as I stare at the duck with its roasted skin while the alarm bells in my brain begin to clang louder and louder. 

My dream haunts me. I had been accused of eating roasted duck. Now, the alarms are like sirens on a fire engine. I suddenly feel nauseous. 

“Quick eat, this duck is delicious!” my mother calls me, already chomping down on a large piece of water fowl meat. I tear off a little slice of meat and put it into my mouth to avoid suspicion, while I am actually about to gag.  

Ping! My phone beeps. Putting down my fork, I see a news app notification. 

[Ducks have taken….] it reads.

My heart sinks. It is actually happening now. I dash out of the house onto the main road. 

A sea of white and orange is coming up the road towards me. 

“Please don’t kill me.” I mutter to myself like in the dream. But I know that will not be the case.