quarta-feira, 29 de dezembro de 2010


Publicado para o New Year Contest em http://figment.com/books/18097-Chew-Me-Crush-Me

Desire was nothing more than fancy, a feeling apart from need.
That's what she thought, until New Year's Eve came, and everything changed.
That was a hell of a party, and the girl wondered what could result of it. Feelings of danger passed through her head, but her heart accepted the challenge. Three doses of  TALON, the new drug on the block, at a good price and no overdose risk. David guaranteed that. David was her brother's best friend – the fact that he turned into a pusher didn't messed the trust between them.
You can picture the music running at the party as whatever music excites you. That wouldn't make any difference, because after Monique swallowed the Talon pills, no more than ten minutes passed, and the sounds turned to ones that existed only in her mind.
Sounds of the forest and the jungle. Dripping water. Birds singing, insects buzzing. The howl of a distant wolf. All in the confines of a New Year's Eve party.
Monique thought she was mad, but dared not to tell this to anyone. Soon the sounds in her ears were joined by the smells of everybody in the dancing floor. She could taste the sweat of a couple making out, at the opposite side of the club. To sound and smell and taste, the vision added new perspectives, she could see the lines of time, tangling around the dancing people, suggesting points of pressure from beyond and points of weakness where she could attack them.
Yes, she could attack them, she needed to attack, to bite, to chew, to transform.
She didn't know that 0,01% of Talon users had reactions like that, and that she was one of that group, pulled by a near-overdose. None of these facts concerned her: from that moment – when the clock showed 23:59 PM – no preoccupations, no responsibilities, no limits concerned her. She was truly free.
At least, she felt so free, so hungry and wild, that taking this stranger, who teased her all night, to the dark room, seemed so obvious. She could have done it earlier. He was her prey, calling her to corner him and devour.
She hugged him, and they kissed so deeply the guy lost his breath, while they moved to the dark room area. “I need to crush you,” said Monique in a frantic voice. “You mean you have a crush on me, didn't you?” answered the man. He didn't have a reply.
Talons ripped his body in a shower of blood. A mouth, once delicate and soft, was now an oversized mandible, chewing the flesh of the now-dead stranger. Soon the werewolf girl crushed his bones, and chewed the marrow of them. “I totally need this”, she thought. And she needed more.
The screams of joy and celebration at that party then turned to pained and fearful screams, crying for a help that never came. And then she was free to the New Year ...

4 comentários:


    Auto-retrato de C Deluxe


    A Lady, que escreveu comigo o "cânone" da Licantropsicodelia, Ela Só Queria Dançar; este miniconto é vagamente baseado nele, admito.

    A Paulo Segundo, que me passou a OST de Scott Pilgrim; escrevi este miniconto ao som de Black Sheep.


    http://figment.com/ é uma rede social de escritores para escritores, acoplável ao Twitter e ao Facebook.
    Este miniconto foi escrito para uma disputa de textos; tinha a contagem máxima de quinhentas palavras, precisava envolver o tema Ano Novo e a palavra CRUSH deveria estar no texto, de algum modo.

  4. Ah ...! Eis Black Sheep http://letras.terra.com.br/metric/1655664/