Stupid Mutant


It was about half past six o’clock and James came out of the movie theater disappointed. Shit movie. It was a film from the old days, a story about the war in 2020. The war that ended all wars but killed 80 percent of the world population in the process. It was a long time ago now, but everyone knew the story. For many it was the only story they knew.

The world was better now. Everyone were relatively good off, but at times mutants appeared. Some of them ate people. Radioactivity, they said. A part of humanity had changed.

James came home and went into the kitchen, printed out his food and sat down to eat. He were looking out of the window. Outside a couple of dogs were playing. The alarm went off. Mutants. Again. He finished eating a bit faster than planned and went down to the shelter in the basement. The attacks used to be over quickly. Rarely anyone got killed. The mutants could be extremely aggressive, but not very smart, and usually handicapped.

He sat in the basement until it was over, and went back up. He went into the living room, over to the hologram player. He was going to watch the news, find out what had happened. He heard a noise behind him and turned around. A mutant! What the hell… The mutant was lacking legs and lying on the floor hissing in a pool of infectious liquid running from it’s corporal orifices. Ugly as fuck. At first James got a little scared, but he quickly realized this angry meat blob would not be able to harm him. It was moving far too slowly as it dragged itself toward him on the floor.

Hehe, James thought. My own mutant! This could be fun! He knew it was strictly forbidden not to report the mutants in inhabited areas, but he didn’t care. He went out and found a rope, made a noose. He put the noose around the mutant with caution. The mutant hissed and struck at him, but he kept distance. Haha, stupid mutant, he said mockingly. What would he do with it? No one could discover that it was there, so he pulled it down the stairs. For each step came gurgling noise from his nose and mouth, which seemed to be the same opening. James laughed. Stupid mutant. The mutant got angrier and angrier. Well down the stairs he tied the rope to a table. He sat down and watched the monster. What now? Now that he had a private mutant, what would he do with it? The mutant sputtered as the ugly beast it was. Haha, it would have liked to kill me for sure, thought James, amused.

The doorbell rang. Who could it be? James spat in the mutant’s face and began to walk up the stairs. He forgot the slime. He slipped. Fell down the stairs. Everything went black.

James regained consciousness. He had injured his back. Couldn’t move. He heard a panting sputtering sound a bit beyond. The mutant fought across the floor. Dragged itself with it’s misshapen hands. It came closer. The rope tightened. The mutant got held back. James tried to get up, but he could only raise one arm. The mutant fought on, huffing and puffing, but he could not get any further. The bell rang again. James shouted. Help! Help me!! Heeeeeelp!!! Panic. The table overturned. The Mutant got James James’ legs. It trailed over him. It smelled horrible. James felt the slime through his clothes. Slowly the mutant was moving up towards his face. Finally it lay completely over him. James stopped shouting. He was scared stiff. The mutant bit his throat. Blood splattered. James died in terror and pain.

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