Air-Loom 2: The Fuel

Submitted into Contest #292 in response to: Set your story in a world that has lost all colour.... view prompt

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Drama Science Fiction Thriller

Air Loom 2: The Fuel

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1:

Well, hellfire and biscuits, you done stumbled


into a mess bigger than a hog in a mud pit.


Lemme break it down for ya real slow-like,


‘cause Lord knows it took me a while to figure it


out my own self. See, I was just mindin’ my


business, drinkin’ my sweet tea, scratchin’ my


belly, thinkin’ life was about as normal as huntin’


deer on a Sunday. But nope—turns out, I was


about three kinds o’ stupid.


Ever hear folks talk ‘bout not messin’ with things


ya don’t understand? Preacher always said,


Don’t go worshippin’ false idols.


But did I listen? ‘Course not. Now I got a one-


way ticket to hell in a hay cart, and I ain’t even


got a damn refund.


I’m talkin’ real hell, y’all. Not that fancy fire ‘n


brimstone kinda deal where you just sit around


sweatin’ all day. Naw, this is different.


This is the Air Loom, and it don’t just eat yer


soul—it chews it up,spits it out, and asks for


seconds.


And guess who’s on the menu? Me.


Also my daddy.


Also my granddaddy.


Also my girlfriend, Alina.


Also Sylvester—my childhood cat, bless his dumb


lil’ heart. Ranout in front of a truck like he had


somewhere important to be.


Now, I know you’re sittin’ there scratchin’ yer


head wonderin’,What in the high-fried Kentucky-


fried chicken is this boy talkin’ ‘bout?


Well, buckle up, buttercup. We’re fixin’ to take a


ride.


2;


Now lemme tell ya ‘bout Jeffery. Boy wasn’t right


in the head, bless his heart.


He had this thing in his basement. Not a still,


not an old truck engine, not even a possum he


was keepin’ as a pet (don’t ask). This thing was…


alive. Sorta hummin’. Sorta callin’ to him like a


siren whisperin ’ through a cornfield.


Any regular ol’ feller with an ounce o’ sense


woulda burned thewhole house down and


moved to a new county. But Jeffery? Naw.


He had that special kinda stupid—the one that


makes a man touch a fence he knows is electric,


just to be sure.


So, what’s he do?


He let his girl Alina to flips the switch.


Y’all ever seen somethin’ so bad, so wrong, it


makes yer stomach go colder than a frog’s ass in


a snowstorm? That’s what happened.


Alina screamed. Somethin’ inside that Air Loom


snapped to life, and it took hold of us.


No runnin’. No hidin’. The only way out? Suicide.


And Jeffery? Well, he ain’t no coward, but he


ain’t got much left to lose neither.


That’s why he grabbed them truck keys, sat his


ass in the driver’s seat, and let ‘er rip.


10 mph.


30 mph.


60 mph.


That good ol’ Chevy was flyin’ down the road like


a bat outta a possum’s backside.


100 mph—no slowin’ down now, buddy.


Then—WHOOSH.


That truck done lifted off the road. Ain’t never


seen nothin’ move so smooth. For a split second,


Jeffery was free.


SPLASH.


Water comes crashin’ in like a drunk uncle at a


wedding.


Floop. Bloop. Floop.


Cab fills up faster than a beer cooler at a tailgate


party.


Jeffery’s last words?


"Alina, I did love ya. Lord, please look after Sylvester."


And... Nothin’.


3;


Y’all still with me? Good. Grab a beer, swat a


mosquito, and lean in close, ‘cause things are


about to get weirder than a three-legged


possum dancin’ on a hot tin roof.


Jeffery’s eyes shot open.


First thing he saw? Alina’s smile. Bright, warm—


like Sunday morning biscuits fresh outta


Granny’s oven. For half a second, everything felt


alright.


Then it came the screech.


Not just any ol’ noise. This was somethin’


unnatural. Like if a barn owl and a chainsaw had


a demon baby and raised it on a diet of


shattered dreams. The beasts were outside.


Jeffery bolted upright. “What in the deep-fried


hell is goin’ on?”


His daddy stepped forward, arms crossed,


lookin’ like he just chewed up some bad tobacco.


“Best we can tell, son,” Daddy grumbled, “we’re


inside the machine.”


Jeffery’s stomach turned colder than an


outhouse seat in December. “Wait… Dad? Is that


really you?”


Daddy just sighed, like he’d been waitin’ on this


conversation longer than he cared to admit.


“Yep. All of us are here. Paw-Paw.


Your Great Paw-Paw. Even your mama.


Now that? That was enough to make a grown


man forget how to breathe.


4;


Mom?!” Jeffery’s voice cracked like a shotgun


blast over an empty field.


“Yeah, she’s here, son,” Daddy said, but his eyes


got all heavy, like a man holdin’ a secret too big


for his britches. “But… she ain’t doin’


so good. Machine’s damn near sucked her dry.


That hit Jeffery like a steel-toed boot to the gut.


He needed to see her.


So, he followed Daddy down the path, Alina’s


hand in his, clammyas a frog’s belly in a


rainstorm. He wasn’t sure who was shakin’


more—him or her.


Jeffery!” He heard it. His mama’s voice.


He broke into a run, feet slammin’ against the


ground, breath comin’ fast.


When he saw her, his heart near about quit.


“Mom!” He lunged, damn near tackled her,


clingin’ like a kid who just realized the dark’s got


claws. “Momma, I missed you.”


But the screechin’ outside? It was gettin’ closer.


Real close.


Daddy put a hand on Jeffery’s shoulder, voice


tight. “Son… now ain’t the time.”


5;


“Listen to your father,” Mama said, voice weaker


than a one-legged rooster in a dogfight. “He


knows this place. The only way out is the


mountain.


That got Jeffery’s attention. “Mountain?”


Daddy nodded. “It’s surrounded by… creatures.


Jeffery’s stomach twisted up somethin’ awful.


“What the hell kinda creatures?”


Mama sighed, lookin’ more tired than a hound


dog after a coon hunt. “Your father will explain…


but I won’t be there.”


“No. NO, Mom, don’t start talkin’ like that...”


She put a hand on his cheek, soft as the lullabies


she used to sing.


“I got no fight left, baby. I’ll become one of them


soon.”


Jeffery felt her slip away. One second, she was


there. The next?


Nothin’ but her clothes in his arms.


He staggered back, shakin’, heart hammerin’,


lookin’ at Daddy like a man starin’ down a storm


he can’t stop.


Dad… where is she?!


6;


Daddy looked at Jeffery, face all serious-like, like


a preacher about to lay down some hard truth.


“She’s one of them now, son.”


Jeffery’s gut sunk like a stone in a swamp.


Dad… why?


Daddy just shook his head. “I don’t know, boy.”


His voice was tight, like he was holdin’ back


words he couldn’t afford to say.


And that’s when the screechin’ outside got


worse. Alright, now hold up. I know what y’all


are thinkin’. You’re sittin’ there gnawin’ yer nails,


whisperin’ What in the redneck revenant


hell is happenin’ now?!


Well, buckle up, ‘cause things are about to blow


the hell up.


Jeffery whipped around. “Where’s the


mountain?”


Daddy pointed. “Only place in this world that’s got any color.”


Jeffery blinked. Color?


“Darkness hates color, son,” Daddy said, real


slow-like. “It only tolerates what it controls.”


Jeffery sat down hard, stomach churnin’ like bad


moonshine. He looked at his arm - bloated from


the drownin’, purple and ugly as


sin. And then? He saw it.


Everyone in this place… They were disfigured.


Changed by how they died.


Suicide left a mark. A cruel, sick signature.


7;


Jeffery turned to Alina.


For a second—just a second—she looked perfect.


Like she did back before all this hellfire


nonsense. He looked again.


Bones. Stickin’ out, sharp and ugly, from when


she wandered into the snow.


He sucked in a breath, stomach doin’


cartwheels. He caught his


own reflection in a puddle.


Oh, my God.” Jeffery gagged. “I look like


marshmallow!


Alina laughed. “Oh, Jeffery, you’re adorable.”


He rolled his bloated ass up and hugged her


tight. Maybe too tight. He was always messed


up, one way or another, but this?


This was a new level of screwed.


The Air Loom had taken its pound of flesh.


And now?


Now he had to get to that mountain of red lava.


“Dad,” Jeffery said, standing taller than he felt.


“I’m gonna defeat this darkness and free these souls.”


Daddy sighed. “Son… many have tried. It’s


impossible.”


“No,” Jeffery shot back. “You’re just scared.”


Daddy’s face got real still. “We don’t fight. We


hide. That’s the only way to survive.”


Yeah, well. That wasn’t gonna work for Jeffery.


8;


Jeffery gritted his teeth. “I can do it. Tell me


everything.


Daddy watched him a long time, then finally


nodded. “Alright, boy. I’ll help you.”


The others in the shelter gathered around.


Survivors, lookin’ at Jeffery like he was the last


can of beans in a damn apocalypse.


Daddy sighed. “What’s the plan, son?”


Jeffery exhaled. “I dunno.”


Not exactly reassurin’, huh?


Alina reached into her purse. That same damn


purse she never let go of, even in death. She


pulled out a sticky note and smacked it


onto Jeffery’s forehead.


He yanked it off, frowned. “Not funny.”


It read:


To Jeffery, my adorable love. SAVE US.


And then? Lightbulb moment.

Only one way out.

One last sacrifice.



9;


Jeffery stood tall.


“I know how to beat the Darkness and save all of


us.”


Alina narrowed her eyes. “Really?


He nodded. “Greed got us here. Sacrifice will


set us free.



And that, folks? That’s the end of Air Loom 2.


But don’t y’all worry yer pretty little heads—



Air Loom 3: Sacrifice is comin’ up next.




Later, gater.

March 02, 2025 20:10

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16 comments

Helen A Howard
08:47 Mar 09, 2025

Such great imagery. Loved the style of writing and some brilliant lines here.

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Donald Haddix
14:02 Mar 09, 2025

Thanks Helen. Watch for loves portal this week. WW2 flick!

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Ella English
18:11 Mar 08, 2025

Ha ha! Love the voice. This person is so real to me.

Reply

Donald Haddix
18:33 Mar 08, 2025

Cool Ella. Real to me too! Thanks for reading

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Denise Walker
15:39 Mar 06, 2025

The narrative voice held me captive, drawing me in like a moth to a web. Fantastic writing—I can’t wait for Part 3!

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Donald Haddix
23:05 Mar 07, 2025

Moth to a web! Love it! Thanks Denise

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Chris Skelton
03:27 Mar 10, 2025

Grat narative, great pacing. In spite of the small space characters well defined

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Donald Haddix
03:58 Mar 10, 2025

Thanks Chris!

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Frankie Shattock
11:03 Mar 09, 2025

I liked this story a lot. I heard the dialect in my head. I like the contrast between the colourful, friendly tone of the narrator and the grim story he tells. Some excellent turns of phrase too. I particularly liked: "That good ol’ Chevy was flyin’ down the road like a bat outta a possum’s backside." :-)

Reply

Donald Haddix
14:00 Mar 09, 2025

Thanks Frankie! I’m going off the deep end this week. A WW2 Nazi love story. Dangerous but it will be fun.

Reply

Frankie Shattock
18:05 Mar 09, 2025

Interesting Donald! Yes, dangerous. Looking forward to reading it!

Reply

Donald Haddix
19:00 Mar 09, 2025

It’s tough to write WW2. I think I can either be on point or fall off cliff. “Loves Portal- the American and the Jewish girl”

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16:18 Mar 04, 2025

Looking forward to part three! Had missed the first part so had to go and read that and then read part two again - glad I did. I love this! Brilliant narrative voice, and some great dark humour in there - particularly like the line 'Like if a barn owl and a chainsaw had a demon baby and raised it on a diet of shattered dreams.' Amazing stuff!

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Donald Haddix
19:03 Mar 04, 2025

Awwww… shucks! You’re so sawweet, Miss Penelope! Thanks for the read!

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Darvico Ulmeli
20:22 Mar 02, 2025

Way to go. Great second part. Looking for 3rd part. Hilarious stuff.

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Donald Haddix
20:28 Mar 02, 2025

Redneck phraseology! My man. Love it. Part 3 and 4 coming soon at Mr Haddix’s fingertips. Oh yea! Enjoy a bit of hillbilly Arkansas, John Wayne, humor. Well buddy peace out!

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