Overtime (Short Story)

This is something I wrote after watching a video on YouTube about writers block. The gentleman spoke about writing garbage to move on with your story. So this was the first thing I wrote.

 

T

he professor ran through the chemical lab, knocking flasks and tools from the counter, he looked for something big enough to use as a weapon.   The sound of movement made him swing his head to look at the door behind him, the doorway was empty, the dim light of the exit sign at the end of the passage showed a black silhouette of the creature making its way to him.

He pulled himself up and lunged away, he felt lightheaded as he gasped for air, running from door to door looking for anyone who might be working over time. He heard a noise coming from behind him, the sound of skittering spider feet.  He looked back and he saw several small scorpion-like creatures coming for him. Their bodies were long with ten legs, and at the end of the ‘stinger’ was the head, they were black with a green-purple coloration, standing a mere fifteen centimeters tall. 

The clicking of the small creatures made his skin curl as he ran as fast as he could. “How could the university keep such a thing like that in here” he thought as he found a broom cupboard at the top of some stairs. He wrenched it open and climbed in. The skittering of the small creatures came past the door; he could see them through the small window at the top of the door. They stopped in front of the door and started to screech loudly, the type of sound that puts chalk against a chalk board to shame, the professor clutched at his ears and felt the warm liquid touch his left hand.

Blood, the creatures had destroyed his eardrum, he looked down at the blood and thought to himself “If this is it, I won’t die in a broom closet.” He grabbed the janitor’s trolley, and thinking of how some of the students have races with these like scooters, he pushed the door open and pushed himself out; the wheels squeaked as they spun, he heard the crunch of the small creatures as he rode over them, the squishing noise made him smile in this small victory. He pushed and pushed like a skateboarder does to gain speed; he was zooming down the passage, as he caught sight of the main exit door to the facility leading down a side passage.

He leapt off the trolley and started a run to the door. He slammed his elbow into the fire alarm and as the fire kit door popped open he grabbed the unused axe.  He ran for the door, he looked into the reception office and saw the clock on the wall ticking down to four o’clock, when suddenly the door to the Chancellor’s office burst open, something hit the wall behind the professor, the wet thud made him look down, the body of the receptionist lay mangled and bloody.

He gasped and looked into the open doors. The beast stepped out and looked at him with his purple eyes, “She was tasteless, and her blood ran thin even before I ate her throat out.”  It said with a deep rough voice, “Her meat was tender and soft, just like her cries for help.” It said walking slowly towards the professor. It walked on four strong legs with its torso coming out from the middle of its body, its head was similar to that of a man, however its jaw split in three places when it spoke, “What are you staring at?” it asked demandingly, “N-n-n-nothing”  Stuttered the professor, backing up against the wall.

The beast screeched and spat at the ground. “She will be a meal for my children, and you will be for me to eat” it said as it lunged at the professor. For an instant he thought to swing the axe or run, maybe even duck under the beast’s strong single spiked fist. His eyes gazed emptily as the beast ripped open his chest, the pain too great to scream.  He gazed into the black of the ceiling and drifted off into death.

 

The end

Author's Note

Please ignore grammar problems, but leave a comment so that I can improve.
What do you think overall?

Reviews

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Not a bad piece of writing considering you are perhaps pushing through a writer's block. I like the idea of writing whatever comes to mind when faced with a lull in our writing endeavours. There were a few word choices that did not work for me. I would have used "crawl" instead of "curl" to describe the effect the spiders had on the professor's skin; "fingers against chalk board" instead of "chalk against..."; "he pushed the door open and (flew or rushed) out". Keep it up!

[Harvey Bentley]

Thank you so much, I really appreciate your comment. Ive been trying to focus on my actual book (Which still has no name) but, this method has really helped me get out of the rut. Thank you again so much.

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No problem; we all face ruts throughout out writing projects. I look forward to your book.