Another batch of Macabre Macaroni

The Halloween Pack

Nadine’s jaw fell open in disbelief. Sara Spears wrote her up for receiving a personal email. Her mother invited her over for Sunday dinner. It wasn’t like she invited the email. She watched Sara strut away from the cubicle, obviously congratulating herself for a job well done.

Several deep breaths later, Nadine awoke her computer from sleep-mode. Sara’s constant pacing the floor to make sure nobody looked at Facebook convinced her not to use company time to look for a new job.

Nadine’s coworkers ducked their heads and pretended to work. There was no hiding what happens in a cube farm. They all heard.

When lunchtime rolled around, Nadine grabbed a light jacket and walked to a corner bistro. Some fresh air, and a huge cup of their coffee might improve her outlook.

She took a chair at one of those outside, wire-mesh tables and waited for her half turkey sandwich. An alert banner lit up the screen of her phone. “The Halloween Pack. Free today only.”

It turned out to be one of those photo manipulation apps. It came with a bunch of Halloween themed stickers, green filters for faces, and more. If she didn’t like it, she could always delete it later.

She entered her data and gave the app permission to access her photos. She flipped through her pictures and stopped at those from the summer picnic. Nothing seemed to be good enough for photo manipulation.

“Excuse me, ma’am, were you the half turkey sand?” The waitress asked.

“Oh yes. Thank you.” The fresh bead smelled wonderful. They baked every morning here.

“Let me top off your coffee.” The girl filled her cup without waiting for a response.

This place has great food, a great setting, and great service. The people seem happy too. I wouldn’t mind working at a place like this, as long as I could make ends meet.

She took a bite of her sandwich, and looked across the street at the autumn leaves. Waves of fresh bread and avocado helped improve her mood.

She looked back at her phone. Time for Sara Spears to get hers. She was always strutting around, sticking her chest out, and looking down her nose. What a narcissistic bitch. Nadine found a photo on Sara’s Facebook page. One of those professional shots with Sara standing against the city skyline while the camera looked up at her with crossed arms like she owned the damned place.

A double chin wouldn’t do. Nadine used the graphic twice, and by sizing the sticker a bit, gave Sara a quadruple chin. She added a couple of feet to her hips until Sara looked like a pear. By the time the lunch hour ended, Sara looked like a mildly transparent, gelatinous, blue blob against the skyline. Oddly, she still looked exactly like herself.

Nadine poured herself into her work that afternoon. She would check out the job market tonight, but nobody was going to call her a slacker. It was nearly three o’clock when she looked up again.

She took a restroom break, but Sara was nowhere to be seen. On the way back to her desk, an arm shot out from the cubicle next to hers. “Sorry about what happened,” Aaron Davies said.

“No problem. Guess it was just my turn on her list. Where is she, anyway?”

“Went home. Said she didn’t feel well this afternoon. To tell you the truth, she didn’t look well either. She looked almost bloated and like her skin was turning blue. Hope there isn’t something going around. I have to umpire for the kids this weekend.”

Nadine stared off into space, and absently said, “Me too.”

After work, Nadine took the elevator down to the parking level. Helicopters roared overhead, then down the street toward the city. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance. She walked past her car to look toward town.

The streets were gridlocked. It would be hours before she could get home tonight. She thought of the little bistro, and returned to the elevator. She could wait out the gridlock there, save some gasoline, and enjoy some of their wonderful coffee.

She pulled her coat tighter as she wove between the stopped cars and crossed the street. The mid day temperatures dropped rapidly this time of year. She’d be taking an indoor table this time.

“Back again?” The waitress asked.

“Yeah. Figure it’s nicer here than waiting in my car. Just coffee this time.”

“On the house. I’ll call it a refill of the one you bought earlier.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“Let’s see if there’s any news about what’s going on.” The waitress turned on a small television.

Images of helicopters filled the screen. Nadine hoisted the coffee to her nose and smelled the wonderful aroma. The news cut to a shot from one of the helicopters. A gigantic blue blob, nearly seventeen stories tall, rampaged through downtown. She sat her cup down and gripped the edge of the table with both hands.

The helicopter flew around the tower for a better angle. There was no mistaking Sara Spears’ face from the photo.

The monster had absorbed several cars, and one fire engine was clearly visible inside her. The flashing red lights filtered through the blue gelatin came out as purple. As the helicopter moved past, several wire tables appeared inside the monster, like the ones Nadine had lunch at. She spotted at least three people inside the blob too.

She grabbed for her phone. Maybe she could undo the manipulation and set things right. Sorry, your free trial has ended. You can buy the Halloween Pack…

Nadine deleted the app. The news kept running. Maybe it would take a second or two before things went back to normal. But they didn’t.

She opened the photograph. There was Sara, standing against the cityscape as a giant blue blob. The positioning of the photo made it look a bit like Sara was as tall as some buildings.

The news kept running as Sara moved on to the Shriner’s Hospital. Those poor people were about to be absorbed too.

Nadine held down the photo until the option bar appeared. She deleted the photograph.

The news image reacted almost immediately. Sara completely disappeared.

Those poor people inside the blob didn’t deserve this. Hell, even Sara didn’t deserve this. She was a horrible person, but this was beyond what she earned.

Nadine went to the App Store, maybe she could repeat the process, not modify the photo, and set things right. The Halloween Pack was nowhere to be found, like it never existed.

The Idea Mill #30

It’s been a long time since I trotted out an Idea Mill post here. Honestly, the feeds I got weren’t that awe inspiring lately. I also got busy with my own writing projects.

I checked my folder, and some of the things I earmarked really weren’t up to snuff, so I went looking.

All authors need inspiration. I get mine everywhere, but I use push feeds to send me news of things that are more my style than what the Kardashians might be up to. When I get a few decent ones, I assemble them into one of these posts. The hope is that one might inspire your next bit of fiction, or enhance something you’re already working on.

Let’s start off with Congress and the Military. You could write any number of horror stories just on those two words, but I found an article. A bill apparently moved from a sub-committee toward the floor of the House that would split the United States Air Force in two. The Air Force would remain, and the new group would be called The Space Corp. It hasn’t happened yet, but the fact they are discussing it lends all kinds of swagger to all those space military stories out there. You can read more here. The military hasn’t done this since the Army Air Corp was turned into the Air Force in the first place.

Let’s throw in the job announcement at NASA too. The one for Planetary Protection Officer.

The timing is ripe for one of those ground floor kind of stories. Maybe set the stage with top secret information that something is out there, and we need protection from it. Then introduce your first group of cadets and start outlining. Can’t find a threat? Let’s give honorable mention to this flying bat-monster over Chicago.

This is a well worn trail, and we all know it. Today, you have a point for some research to add a degree of realism to the piece you create.

Our next story is about unsolved languages. Apparently Facebook’s robots created a language of their own to interact with each other. The punchline is that we don’t know what they’re saying to each other. That could be a story all on its own, but a researcher brought us this cool article about Researching Lost Languages.

To me, this article has more interest than the Facebook news. Robots with a secret language is another well worn trail. There are all kinds of ancient languages out there that we’ve never been able to crack. Without the Rosetta Stone, we may not have cracked hieroglyphics. Other ancient languages don’t have a handy Rosetta Stone lying around. There is even a wonderful Nazi tie in that adds a veil of evil to the whole thing.

An ancient language researcher would make a neat character. It has shades of Dan Brown and Indiana Jones all at once, particularly with the Nazi tie. Maybe we wind up cracking one of these languages, and find out something that we really don’t want to know.

The last one involves a revelation that blood from young animals can slow down the aging process in older animals of the same type. This all started with dental research in the 1950s. Dentists are evil enough to make decent bad guys. Ever seen Marathon Man? It even had a Nazi tie in.

The research led to sewing lab rats together, and intentionally wounding the older of the pair. An unstitched rat was given the same wound. The one with access to young blood healed faster and better. There is even more potential in this research because the article delves into modern stem cell potential. To get more information, read the darned article.

I think I’m going to borrow from this one myself. I still have that Grinders novel I want to get to, and it fits right in. This could fuel any number of mad science type stories. It lends credence to some kind of Lady Bathory tales too. Need a modern day Fountain of Youth, maybe you just found it.

Just for fun, I try to come up with a corny story that uses all these elements. That young-blood story is going to be rough, but I’ll try.

The Men in Black captured a flying bat monster over Chicago. (Extra credit for using him) They tried to communicate with him, but couldn’t understand him until they found a researcher into ancient languages.

The researcher discovered he was speaking one of the ancient languages, but he needed time to interpret it. In the mean time, the Space Corp is formed and the first volunteers join up.

Eventually, the threat is revealed. Bat Monster is a spy, and the researcher recovers his communication kit. This allows eavesdropping on the invaders.

Our Space Cadets, (I hope they call them Space Cadets) ship out. They are going a long ways, so they have to be in suspended animation. Part of the process involves the Cadets donating their own blood as part of their revival process. The blood of eighteen year old Cadets will help reanimate the thirty year old soldiers when they arrive. Then, of course, they have to battle the hideous bat monsters.

How’d I do? More importantly, what will you do? Did you find a useful story element here? Maybe an entire plot?

Thursday means Macabre Macaroni

I feel like I’m mathematically still in the wild card race. It would take some doing, but I could still reach 666 followers by Halloween. I’ve made great strides, but it’s looking like a long shot. If you enjoy this story, please feel free to re-blog it. It might help me reach my goal.

Ranger

I explained to the third visitor today that Gillydoc wasn’t real. He was a silly story made up by a shopkeeper outside the park to make sure all the tourists stopped by his store. They decided their kids needed a photo with the statue outside the store anyway. Most of them do.

I clocked off and headed down the canyon toward my assigned cabin. The radio call got my attention, but it broke up. All I managed to hear was “missing tourist.”

It was easier to take the main highway around than the narrow winding road directly through the park. I made my way to a high point and checked in. Janice said a young woman was missing, and she would check the cliffs to see whether any climbers were stranded. James was at the campground interviewing the other campers.

“Got it, Jan. I’ll go around to the west entrance and check Beech Creek. Those gravel sifters have been back. Maybe she’s one of them.”

I merged into the line of heavy Saturday traffic and headed past Crowsey’s store. It was your typical rubber tomahawk shop if there ever was one. Old Crowsey had a Gillydoc story for all occasions. Families waited in line for a chance to get a picture with his wooden statue.

It’s ridiculous how intelligent people buy into some kind of monster story. Now Beech Creek, that was real. Millions of dollars in star gems, almost like sapphires, came from those gravels. The ground was littered with them, but only a rare few were good enough to make into a gem. The rest crumbled under the grinding required. It’s a good thing too, or the park would have become a pit mine before it was ever established. Some tourist was always washing through the gravel, hoping to pay for his vacation. I made six arrests last month.

The Beech Creek Campground was packed. I slowed down, but didn’t notice anything unusual. Just before the bridge I spotted tire tracks in the mud of a closed road. I turned off and headed down the ridge.

A small red coupe was parked near an old trailhead to the hot springs. No one was around, and I called the plates in. This would take some time, we aren’t exactly metropolitan out here.

A college girl probably met someone in the park and decided to go skinny dipping. I grabbed my flashlight and headed up the trail.

There was only one set of tracks, and they were small. If she wasn’t our missing camper, she was in a closed area and at least I could get a ticket out of the deal.

The tracks veered off toward Beech Creek before they got near the hot springs. It was getting dark so I turned on my light. A sandy spot in the trees Showed where she’d kicked around in some crumbled stones. Yeah, one good one would put you through college. Is that what’s up tonight? Hell a good one would get me my masters and a post at Yellowstone or Denali.

Tracking got tougher in the mossy parts of the forest. I lost the trail completely for a while. It was because her strides lengthened. She must have been in a hurry to get to the creek, or so I thought. She turned upstream before she ever got to the water.

I lost the trail at a big rock outcrop, and circled looking for tracks. There was more gem gravel, but she hadn’t dug here. I nearly sprained my ankle in an ancient pit. These were from the old days where miners tried to find the source of the gems in the creek.

I sat on a rock to rub out my ankle, and spied a few broken branches from my lower vantage point. Blood painted one of the twigs. I moved the branches around and found a bit more blood. I admit feeling for my pistol before moving forward. There were bears in the park, but it had been years since anyone had a problem.

That’s when I saw it. An actual gemstone secure in the outcrop. People looked all around these rocks for a hundred years and managed to miss it.
It wasn’t just any stone either. This one was as big as a grapefruit. Even the Smithsonian didn’t have one this big. I stared at it for a long time. The center of the star drew my eye, and golden rays spread to the edges along a field of midnight blue. Tiny golden flecks sparkled at the outer edges.
Hell, I wouldn’t need a masters with a stone like this. I could pick up a mansion in Miami and live well for the rest of my life.

It was just as illegal for me to steal it as the missing tourist. Still, I knew where it was. I could come back after getting the tourist off the ridge.
I raised my flashlight for one last look. It was the most gorgeous arrangement of blue and gold I’d ever seen.

Then, it blinked.

Is it time to go fishing?

Here’s a neat article about the Loch Ness Monster. 

I won’t steal their photos to glorify my blog. Check out the article.

As per usual, people see what they want to see. Is it a sunken ship, an airplane, waves? The comments on the article indicate all those things, and why the commenter feels that way.

For me, I need a ticket to Scotland, and a ten foot earthworm. Maybe a size 1000 cast iron skillet.