A Stinging Revenge
A Stinging Revenge
The day my clan went extinct still haunts me to this day.
It was like any other normal day, as normal as it gets for a mosquito at least. My cadre of 10 strong accumulated in a circular formation, and were about to execute our last mission of the day. You see, the humans were asleep at the time, their clothing undercut, and their skin ripe for the sucking. We didn't need much, just a few ounces of blood to satisfy us for the time being. We decided to target the child, as his blood was fresh and scrumptious, a sugary treat to end off the day. He was feisty all right, but most of our missions dealing with him were successful until now, and he was asleep, so what was the worst that could happen?
As my troop lurked into the boy's bedroom, we pinpointed an especially ripe spot centered beneath his calf, and darted for it with deadly accuracy. As we perched upon the target, the boy stirred slightly, causing a ripple through our gang. However, as the boy settled into his position, we began feasting on that oh-so delectable blood. It was splendiferous, so delightfully juicy that we just couldn't help ourselves- we feasted and feasted until we could no more, and then still more. Eventually, we grew rather sluggish and proceeded out of the room.
Perhaps it was this such sluggishness that led to our inevitable demise, or perhaps it was the commotion our intense buzzing had caused that did it. Whatever it was, as our men were rejoicing from our conquest, we heard a deafening thump that froze us in our paths. We knew it could only be one thing- the golem. That is what our group has entitled the monstrous beast that lurks in these hallways, the one that imposes the maximum threat to our kind. We have always tried to stay clear of the golem. Now he was right behind us.
We dashed, dove and dodged his burly grips, but alas, it was futile, and he clobbered us one by one. The scream of my terrified mosquito brethren echoed within my ears, and slowly but surely, our numbers thinned. I knew I had to do something, but before I could think, before could even move, darkness embraced me.
I had avoided death by the skin of my teeth. Like many cowards, I had fled for the light at the end of the tunnel, and made it through in the nick of time. Among those who lived, most were severely injured, and died in the next few days. My first in command, General Buzz, pleaded with me to leave the household, but I refused, adamant to avenge my fallen brothers. The fear in my people's faces still sent a shiver down my spine, and I would not give to the fear that possessed me, no matter what the circumstances.
That is why I am here today. It is a week after the incident, and I have approached the golem's lair. Between the bottom of what humans call a door and a carpet, I had flown through the crevice and was just a few feet short of Him. The purpose of this mission is simple; bite the golem so many times that his skin is a district of lumps and blemishes. His natural reaction would be to approach our layer and try to smash us. However, before he has a chance to do so, we jump him, and prick him in every nook and corner until he loses his mind and sells the house. Then, we should be home free.
At least that was the idea. Little did I know that complications would soon arise...
When I estimated the coast to be clear, I gave my fellow mosquitoes the signal, and we pounced. We shredded through every layer of his skin that we could, and though the blood was as bitter as a cold-brew coffee, it was a necessary investment for our plan to carry out. The next morning, the golem left his base with his body loaded with bites as big as a human thumb, swelling like a fresh wound. What was even more malicious though was the glare of bona fide hatred radiating from this person. He wanted payback and he wanted it NOW.
That's when something rather peculiar occured. The golem flashed an eerie smile, and instead of heading towards our base at the corner of the stairs, he headed in the opposite direction, rubbing his hands together and opening a creaky door into the house attic. Had the golem had a change of heart? No, it couldn't be. Then, I realized in horror as to what his deadly schemes had in store for us. Legend has it that there is a deadly toxin, a chemical in the form of bitter liquid, that was stored inside of a circular canister. This venomous chemical, if leached onto an insect such as myself, will instantly vanquish the being. The golem was out to retrieve this canister, with the intent to spray it upon my kind.
We needed to move, and fast. Informing my brethren of His plan, we zoomed into the dark abyss of the golem's attic, with only one target in mind- the potent canister of doom. My eyes caught on an orange cylindrical object, and I flew in to investigate. Though the human writing was unclear, the bottle had a picture of a mosquito on it, perhaps of my cousin Larry, with a spray cast upon him and his expression frightened and distraught. This must be it. Target acquired.
They say ants can lift weights up to 10 times their own body weight, an incredible feat no doubt. Well, we mosquitoes aren't half bad ourselves, and managed to lift the cap off of the canister of liquid in no time. Caution was extremely necessitive, as falling in that liquid would mean an immediate death. Ignoring the fact, my men and I heaved open the lid, turned it around by 180 degrees, placed it back quite carefully, and cleverly hid the mischievous act we had just done with careful precision. The purpose of this would be so that when the golem goes to spray the liquid, the liquid would actually come out of the wrong end, and the poison would bleach His eyes. Now there was only one thing I could count on- that the human was stupid enough to fall for this ploy. Knowing the golem, we have this in the bag.
Now we just had to wait. Wait in frightened anticipation as the golem retrieves the cylinder and makes his way over to our base. The bane of our existence relies on the golem's iq, and whether or not he falls victim to our laughable trap. What felt like 7 years later, a faint thump is heard outside of the base. A stifle runs through my men, and we quiet down. The thump increases in tempo and proximity, until it stops. The golem is here.
A mutual feeling of intense anticipation is shared between my men, as we wait for our fate to unfold. A grunt is heard just outside. Still, nothing. A clinking sound is heard at the other end as the golem fumbles with the canister, and we pray to the Mosquito God to spare our lives. At last, with the canister locked and loaded and my men and I at fate's mercy, the Golem pulls the trigger. For a split second, nothing happens, and then a scream erupts from beyond. It was from the Golem.
We did it.
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