Short Story – There Will Be Blood

Disclaimer: This story does not intend to hurt the feelings of any mosquito, male or female, although its author might have other, macabre, ideas.

“Whee, this feels good,” she thought, as she let her body out to dry in the sun. She looked around. The sun was out, there was a gentle ripple on the surface of the water, and her sisters were all nearby, all drying their bodies after the struggle they’d had to go through. Put simply, the day was beautiful, and she wasn’t going to miss out on her first trip out into the wide world. She was hungry as hell.
She whistled out to her newly-found “sistahs.”
“Let’s go darlings, shall we?”She cried out.
“Where?” Her twenty-third cousin from the fourteenth aunt gushed.
“See our aunts are going, all decked in red. We should accompany them, learn the ropes of the trade.”
“But aren’t we too young for that?”
“Aah, don’t be a spoilsport, come with me.”
And so they went on, fanning the air around them and taking flight. It was time! Their gang was GO!
After a week of feeding wherever the aunts took them, she felt she had a decision to make. A lot of her troupe had been finished off by their two-legged preys. There wasn’t enough prey anyway.

“Gals, we need to make our own way here. There isn’t nearly enough food for all of us.”
“But it feels fine here,” a spindly-looking cousin said.
“Yeah, except you don’t know what’s fine.” The snigger in her voice was barely concealed.
“Come with me if you want to live!”

She took four scores of her sistahs and set out, braving huge watery bullets and exhausting heat from the heavens.
Some time later, they reached a place that, when looked at through her numerous eyes, seemed to be very high, with millions of similar-looking layers and similar box shapes. There were so many boxes to choose from that she felt, for the first time in her life, spoilt for choices.
“I’m going to the topmost boxes,” she told one of them, “Anyone willing to join me is welcome. I am awaited in Valhalla.”
Three or four of them followed her as she took the last few ounces of her strength and made for the “box.” Once there, they all settled on the dark corners.
The box was quite bright, even though she could see that it was dark outside. Some sort of noise was coming from somewhere. She could also see, that there were quite a few of those two-legged preys in there.It was time to drink the $5 shake.
A while later, as more of the preys settled there, she whistled to her friends. Let’s go, this is the time of attack, she said.
So on they went, creating their unique brand of music along the way.
She found a place under four poles, where two legs were visible. She circled one of the leg for a while before settling for a round part, where she could get a lot to feed on. She settled there.
She had barely injected her head-fixed injection when the leg shook, softly. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, she felt, so she flew off.
She kept circling the poles but couldn’t find a place to settle, as the legs kept on shaking in an arrhythmic manner. She flew to a different corner of the “box” to find “redder pastures.”
The second prey seemed less aware of her wiles. She found a good place to sit on and then started the process to draw her food.
There was no opposition!
She dug in a little deeper to quicken up the process.
No vibrations!
Then she started the extraction process. The food started flowing through the injection into her body. She felt joy coursing through her body. Not just joy, Nirvana!
No movement, even now!
She closed her eyes for a second to feel it. This was life. This was what she was born to do.
She was deep in her ruminations, with ecstasy, contentment and every single joy in the world competing for her attention at the same moment.
“This is a life well-lived, I guess I can say…”

She never saw the swat coming. All that remained afterwards was a landscape where her body, minus a few of the hands, was drowned in her “food.”
Her friends, from their vantage points across the box, saw what happened. A dream had died. An entrepreneur had failed. They shed a million tears from their millions of eyes as they went about taking the dream forward.
That was until the swats came for them.
The End.

All images courtesy: Google Images.
Thanks for reading.


              1. I did feel some nerves, but they were mostly because of a lack of clarity about my own level of writing. As for people’s expectations, you can never live up to others’ expectations of you. Someone or the other will always be let down, someone will always find your work to be less than good. And worse, there will be times when what you think is a pretty terrific post doesn’t get any views at all. I’d say, don’t worry about that. Keep writing regularly, and you’d feel the improvement and the polishing of your writing happening all of itself. Socialise, read others’ posts, leave thoughtful, non-generic comments, and use social media as a tool for your blog’s growth. Things will always get better.

                As for the queries, I don’t mind them. Happy to be of help. πŸ™‚


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