Silent But Deadly

The grass waves to the breath-filled song of the wind. No, wait. That doesn’t sound quite right. Maybe just the voice of the wind. The luscious grass dances as the wind sings. Something like that anyway. I look around me. Casually, like I’m taking in the view and not at all looking for a sudden change in the landscape that would signal my end.

Should I admit that I’m scared? I’d be mad not to. But then this is madness. I’m narrating my life because my life actually depends on it. The moment I go quiet, it’ll come for me. I know that much. Sneaky bollocks! Tricking people into being quiet when that’s how it finds them! I still don’t get that. What form of creature finds its prey via silence? I thought it might hate sound, but no one is quiet in their final moments, and it doesn’t seem phased by the screaming.

I shouldn’t talk about that. Difficult to filter though. I can’t stop the words coming out. The words are my shield. All I have to do is think of things to say as I walk these next few fields and then I’ll be in the next village and I can find a radio or just something, anything to make some noise for me. 

Then I can sleep. I am so tired. Wait a minute. What if I yawn? Does a yawn count? Or will I be interrupting the flow of sound that protects me? I can’t fall or hit a limb against anything. Nor can I snag myself on an errant nail. Errant, where did that come from? I’ve noticed that my language is getting more flowery. That’s good. I don’t have to find quite so many words. They’re flowing out from me as though the tap in my mind has been turned a little more. I never knew I had a tap in my mind! This’ll do. I can manage this. And I need to stay on top of it. Conscious of the stream. I don’t want to get carried away and pause in a fog of confusion. 

I could say any old words. I could do that. But I think I’d go mad as I stirred that crazy word salad around. And then where would I be? I need to keep it together. Find somewhere to sit it out. Surround myself with a wall of sound and then…

Sleep?

Sleep seems a world away. I’d need someone with me so we could take it in turns to sit watch. Would that work? Would a radio even work? Does it work if the noise isn’t coming from you? Does the quality of the sound make a difference? A voice that comes from a mouth is different to one that comes via a speaker.

Am I kidding myself? Does it matter that I’m kidding myself? I’ve made it this far and that’s pretty good. I had safety in numbers for a while back there. It’s about survival now, I’m on my own. I’ve got to keep going. Buy myself time. The creatures might not even be here anymore. Moved on to easier pickings. 

I don’t believe that for a moment.

You’re still there aren’t you guys? Watching and waiting. All I have to do is pause these words of mine and you’ll be skipping out to meet me in the middle of this damn field.

I’d say that you don’t see them coming. That’s not quite right. It’s that when you do see them coming you’re done for. Game over. What little warning you have is useless. A blur of movement. Pain. Gone. You can’t outrun what you can’t see. They don’t move like anything on this Earth. There’s no approach. No stalking. They come from nowhere, and the more I think about it, I do think they come from some other dimension. They just appear as though they can pass through gaps in space-time that we can’t see.

Could they be demons? That makes more and more sense to me. Come to snatch our souls away. Consume us. The end of days. No one thought it would look like this. Sound like this. Do our voices cover another sound? The beating of our hearts? Or is it really the sound of our silence that beckons them forth?

I’m searching for answers where I think there are likely none. That’s what we do though, isn’t it? We search for answers. We walk into a room we’ve never been in before and we wonder what the hell it all is. Thankfully, rooms have conventions, like bloody walls and a sodding floor and a buggering ceiling. Crappy sofas if it’s a living room. A shitty cooker and  an arsehole fridge if it’s a kitchen. A bastard bed if it’s a… 

What the hell has happened here!? It looks the same, but its entirely different. I loved walking through these fields, now it’s all painted in violent death. Everyone’s violent death. My violent death! I don’t want to die. Not like this. But what makes me different? What makes me so special that I think I can evade the fate of everyone else? 

I’d laugh if this wasn’t so serious. I don’t think I’ll ever laugh again. At least it’s quick. It seems quick anyway. Oh… what if they drag you through those invisible gaps? What if the pain goes on beyond what I have seen?

Why do my thoughts go there? Think happy thoughts. Why is the bloody happy cupboard bare?! I wish we lived by the sea. That would be nice. I wonder whether they can follow you over the water? I hope not. I hope there are places that they can’t go. I hope they eventually give up.

They won’t though, will they? Would we? Perhaps they’re aliens. Or a lab experiment gone wrong. Doesn’t matter though does it? If my nemesis introduced himself as Norman, shook my hand and did me the courtesy of telling me what he was, where he came from and why he and his mates were wreaking violent and bloody murder across the planet, it doesn’t change the important bit does it? I’m not going to smile and tell him that that’s alright then. 

I suppose it would give me the opportunity for a moment of defiance. I could tell Norman the Planet Conqueror to bugger off. You know what. I can do that anyway, can’t I? I can shout my defiance at this new world of Norman’s. I might not have the final word, but I’ll have given him what for! Might even feel good, if only for the duration of my shouting. Yeah, I’m going to do it. What have I got to lose? I’m going to lose anyway, so may as well go for it. Tell you what Norman? I’m going to primal scream it. I’m going to dig deep down and bring my ancient part to the fore. We are animals after all. A force to be reckoned with. And I don’t give a shit if I lose my voice doing it. I will keep talking afterwards in any case. You’re not getting me like that you sneaky little bastard!

Here goes.

BUGGER OFF, NORMAN!!!

Yeah! Wow! Hey…

What was that?

I…

I can still see it! A gap. 

NORMAN!

I shouted a gap open. That’s why you don’t like our voices! Our voices are our power! Oh yes! Of course they are! This changes everything.

Yes! I’m going to bring it to you, Normy-baby. I’m going through that gap of yours and I’m going to shout your whole house down. What else is there? I can’t keep this talk up. You’ll get me in the end if I keep running away. But if I bring it to you and shout you down? That might just do it. 

I’m coming for you, Norm and we’re going to talk it out. Just you and me. Then, when we’re done, I’ll tell all your friends. I’ve got hope now, Norman. Hope and a plan. Best of all, I have belief. That makes me dangerous. We’re not sheep. We were never sheep. We’re not even wolves. We’re different. And we’re difficult.

We’re magic Norman, and my words are a spell you are not going to break!

Coming whether you’re ready or not!