The Ladies of Horror

Wretched Times 
by M.L. Roos 

Ingrid poured over the manual with a concentration so deep, she did not hear the door open. She needed to find the schematic that showed how the door was contained within the structure. It was the only chance they had for survival. Pre-Wretched Times, she had been an engineer with a passion for the creation, rather than the process. What saved her time and time again was her ingenuity, her sharpness and always pulling together a project far more detailed and intricate that had been asked for, and under budget. But only if allowed to get into the thick of things with a welder’s torch. Rumours abound, as they always tend to do with bright, strong women, that she slept her way to the top (she hadn’t) that her daddy paid off the board of directors of MIT, and she slept with all of them in order to gain her entrance (he hadn’t and neither did she) or that she was Lesbian Witch that sold her soul to gain a man’s brain (she was and she could be, but she would never tell).

“Ingrid” came the voice, entering the room before the woman. Leigh was tall, thin, athletic and strong. Her black hair and kohl rimmed eyes gave the warning. If it was not heeded, then came the blades. “Ingrid” she stated louder.

Ingrid glanced up quickly and back down to the manual.

“Ingrid, it’s over.”

Ingrid’s eyes rose slowly letting the statement sink in, however not quite grasping its meaning.

“What do you mean? Did someone else find the plans? Can we get keep it safe?”

“Yes, and no. Yes, someone found the plans, but we were too late. It escaped. And on it’s way out it took a group with it…to snack on. Someone said it did not get out completely but is contained in the airlock.

“No. He wouldn’t do that.”

“It, and yes it did. Ingrid, you knew it was feral, a holdover from before. It was only a matter of time before it tried to assert dominance. That is its only purpose. It can’t help it. The endocrine system of a foreign species has no control. It is little more than a sea cucumber with hormones and anger than a human being. I know you thought you had control, but love, you never did.”

Shouting reached a crescendo outside their door, which lead to an obscene pounding that broke and increased the tension like a twisted dichotomy of feather and weight.

Ingrid raced to the door and threw it open. “What’s happened? Has he been contained?”

The last person stopped, stared at Ingrid and continued on their way chasing the others. Ingrid and Leigh chased after. They all ended up outside one of the numerous airlocks in the chamber, a safety valve from this world to the next. The group stood quiet, barely breathing, listening to the plaintive cry from within. It did not have a voice, or at least words. It simply did not have the prefrontal cortex large enough to learn speech. It was pure emotion and it only had sound; pitiful bleating and whining to indicate the semblance of a normal human emotion. Was it pity? Anger? Who knew?

Ingrid placed her hand on the airlock and her forehead against the door. The bleating turned to sniffing. It knew she was there. The cries grew more heart wrenching, but only to Ingrid. To the rest, it was a caterwauling of an old idea, an organism that simply outlived its usefulness and should be destroyed. They all knew that once males reached the age of ten plus five, they needed to be destroyed. This one was ten plus seven due to the clever hiding places Ingrid had discovered. Without Ingrid, it would have died off like all the others, but she refused to let him live out his intended days. Instead, she clothed, fed and tried to nurture him, to teach him and love him. Others had tried before her. Others will again, determined to cling to to a past with hopes of redemption.

“Mo-th-er”.

.

Fiction © Copyright M.L. Roos
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from M.L. Roos:

Zippered Flesh 2
Short Story: After Darque

So, you loved the first ZIPPERED FLESH anthology? Well, here are yet more tales of body enhancements that have gone horribly wrong! Steroids from Hell. Horrendous piercings. Bizarre brain modifications. Obscene amputations. Facial reconstruction. Self-mutilation. Implants. Chilling tales by some of the best horror and suspense writers today, determined to keep you fearful all night (and skittish during the day).

Available on Amazon!