It's a beautiful day!
Don't let it get away…
Music slithered out of the radio harmonising with the drumming rhythm of car wheels eating up the Pacific Highway. The shy trees, shrubs and fields only peeked out at the cars two occupants for short moments before whipping back into the distance. The driver Bear lounged in his seat; foot heavy on the pedal, hands loose on the wheel, thoughts stolen by the promises of his destination. In the passenger seat curled, catlike was Bruce; his twinkling eyes hidden by drowsy lashes disturbed only by the steady purrs of his sleepy breath - and the occasional swerve of Bear's dazed driving.
One swerve to the left, two swerves to the right, slide round the round-a-bout, run straight through the lights. Swerve, swerve, sweeeeeeeeeeerve…
SMASH! Energy screamed from the telegraph pole folding the car like origami. Terrified sparks scampered away from the collision. Pain leaked into Bear through his left side, shock had his brain in a clamp. He struggled out of the wreckage and fought to catch his awareness. He looked back at his car, HIS CAR! It was twisted round the telegraph pole in a death embrace. The pole cut right through the bonnet, through the hood, through the windscreen... and through Bruce.
Bear leapt back into what used to be his car and tugged, dragged, pulled, pushed, wriggled and jiggled, anything to get Bruce out of this hellish nightmare.
"Bruce! Bruce mate, can you hear me?"
Bruce's eyelids twitched, just a teasing flicker of affirmation that death had not snatched him yet. Bear pressed his ear to his best friends mouth listening for that fateful breath to tell him this was all going to be okay.
It was not okay. Bruce wasn't breathing and after a quick check of his wrist Bear concluded he didn't have a pulse either. Irrationally hope still simmered in Bear's fracturing mind, he reached out a tentative hand and gently slid back Bruce's ashen eyelids. Nothing. The twinkle that had inhabited them for all the time that Bear had known Bruce was gone.
Screaming was everywhere devouring the air, the screeching of hungry sirens competing with the agonising howls springing from Bear's heart. Authoritive white monsters skittered into the wreck, moving debris like nebby ants. They tore Bruce from Bears desperate hands and hauled him to their shrieking banshee; she licked them all up and retreated to her death cave, cackling viciously.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soft car lights turned to sharp angles, discoloured skin and the shimmering of feral eyes as soon as they stroked the edge of the gloomy highway. He lurked there, anticipating the movements of his next prey. In his hand a snarling rock lay impatient to taste the blood of its victim; and there she was, soaring over asphalt like a stick down a river, his target. Muscles glided, quick as lighting he launched the rock at the approaching car.
It crashed through the window and smashed into the unpredicting passenger. A deep rooted pleasure flowered in Bears chest. Ever since Bruce's fatal accident he had taken up this mission, his mission to ensure that every car that passed him on this highway did not make it to it's destination. In some distant part of his mind his conscience wailed that perhaps this behaviour was a bit harsh. But Bear could see no other option, how else was he to overcome this adversity but force every other breathing being to experience the same pain he had felt?
He uncoiled from his hunters position and prowled over to his master piece. She lay there already dead, how disappointing, he liked it better when he could watch the life seep out of his justice trophies. He bent down slipping his finger into the deep gash at the side of her head, he brought it to his lips and savoured the sweet taste of retribution. He began to sing tunelessly to himself, It's a beautiful day...
And his world was at peace.
Don't let it get away…
Music slithered out of the radio harmonising with the drumming rhythm of car wheels eating up the Pacific Highway. The shy trees, shrubs and fields only peeked out at the cars two occupants for short moments before whipping back into the distance. The driver Bear lounged in his seat; foot heavy on the pedal, hands loose on the wheel, thoughts stolen by the promises of his destination. In the passenger seat curled, catlike was Bruce; his twinkling eyes hidden by drowsy lashes disturbed only by the steady purrs of his sleepy breath - and the occasional swerve of Bear's dazed driving.
One swerve to the left, two swerves to the right, slide round the round-a-bout, run straight through the lights. Swerve, swerve, sweeeeeeeeeeerve…
SMASH! Energy screamed from the telegraph pole folding the car like origami. Terrified sparks scampered away from the collision. Pain leaked into Bear through his left side, shock had his brain in a clamp. He struggled out of the wreckage and fought to catch his awareness. He looked back at his car, HIS CAR! It was twisted round the telegraph pole in a death embrace. The pole cut right through the bonnet, through the hood, through the windscreen... and through Bruce.
Bear leapt back into what used to be his car and tugged, dragged, pulled, pushed, wriggled and jiggled, anything to get Bruce out of this hellish nightmare.
"Bruce! Bruce mate, can you hear me?"
Bruce's eyelids twitched, just a teasing flicker of affirmation that death had not snatched him yet. Bear pressed his ear to his best friends mouth listening for that fateful breath to tell him this was all going to be okay.
It was not okay. Bruce wasn't breathing and after a quick check of his wrist Bear concluded he didn't have a pulse either. Irrationally hope still simmered in Bear's fracturing mind, he reached out a tentative hand and gently slid back Bruce's ashen eyelids. Nothing. The twinkle that had inhabited them for all the time that Bear had known Bruce was gone.
Screaming was everywhere devouring the air, the screeching of hungry sirens competing with the agonising howls springing from Bear's heart. Authoritive white monsters skittered into the wreck, moving debris like nebby ants. They tore Bruce from Bears desperate hands and hauled him to their shrieking banshee; she licked them all up and retreated to her death cave, cackling viciously.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Soft car lights turned to sharp angles, discoloured skin and the shimmering of feral eyes as soon as they stroked the edge of the gloomy highway. He lurked there, anticipating the movements of his next prey. In his hand a snarling rock lay impatient to taste the blood of its victim; and there she was, soaring over asphalt like a stick down a river, his target. Muscles glided, quick as lighting he launched the rock at the approaching car.
It crashed through the window and smashed into the unpredicting passenger. A deep rooted pleasure flowered in Bears chest. Ever since Bruce's fatal accident he had taken up this mission, his mission to ensure that every car that passed him on this highway did not make it to it's destination. In some distant part of his mind his conscience wailed that perhaps this behaviour was a bit harsh. But Bear could see no other option, how else was he to overcome this adversity but force every other breathing being to experience the same pain he had felt?
He uncoiled from his hunters position and prowled over to his master piece. She lay there already dead, how disappointing, he liked it better when he could watch the life seep out of his justice trophies. He bent down slipping his finger into the deep gash at the side of her head, he brought it to his lips and savoured the sweet taste of retribution. He began to sing tunelessly to himself, It's a beautiful day...
And his world was at peace.