The Killing Moon: A Short Story

The wind soared around the boy. His hair and the back of his sweater ruffled as the air blew through him. The boy remained still, looking up at the night sky. The whitest moon was stuck there amongst the stars like a golf ball caught in the rough. If only sand could twinkle. The boy knew that none of this was real. He could do anything, anything he wanted. But for now all he wanted to do was stare at that moon.

As he focused on the sky it began to draw closer and closer. That was when he looked down and saw his city beneath him. The lights, the streets, and the cars whizzing along all looked like they belonged in a child’s toy box.

The boy felt like he was standing on solid ground when really he was suspended in mid-air. “Take me to the moon,” he said, and his feet unstuck themselves. The boy flew towards the moon, the wind increasing in speed now. It was almost deafening. The boy closed his eyes for just a second.

And then… silence.

The boy opened his eyes and the creamy white surface lay before him, craters and all. It felt so real the boy thought. He wondered about the gravity, and instantly the boy felt lighter. He took a step forward, and another, and another. Soon the boy was running in slow motion, leaping over craters. A gigantic crater took up the boy’s entire field of vision. Across the other side he could see a parked spaceship, and an American flag not too far off. There were no astronauts in sight. “Hello?” the boy echoed across the crater. “Is anyone over there?”

“Help,” a voice whispered. “Help me.”

The boy could not see who the voice belonged to, but he knew he had to get over there. So he hopped back a few steps to leave enough of a runway. And he took off. Still in his jeans and sweater the boy left the ground once more, his feet and arms flailing as the crater lay mockingly beneath him. He was only half way across, and he started to have doubts. He felt himself falling, right into the crater.

His fall was soft and yet he still managed to slip over and scrape a knee. He rubbed it, wondering how he could be feeling pain. Looking up he could see the black sky above him, and the towering walls of the crater. The boy searched for foot holds he could use to climb up when he heard the voice again.

”Help me,” the voice was louder now, but still a whisper.

”Where are you?” the boy glanced around the crater. Nothing. And then he turned to see the owner of the voice standing right behind him.

It wasn’t human. A slimy looking creep of a thing, it was a green and half the size of the boy. It looked an awful lot like a bogey. The boy thought about picking his nose to compare, but he didn’t want to offend the thing, whatever it was.

It had no eyes, only a mouth, a human mouth. Human lips, human teeth, human tongue.

It spoke again, “Help?” more of a question this time.

The boy was only an arms length away from the creature. A putrid stench filled his nostrils. The boy tried his best to remain calm, hoping the thing wouldn’t see him scared. The boy reached out his hand to touch the top of the slime, presumably its head. It was cold and sticky. The boy withdrew his hand along with globlets of a snot-like substance.

”What’s the matter?” the boy asked. His fear now being replaced by concern.

”I’m hungry,” the slime moaned.

”What kind of food do you like?” the boy asked.

The slime remained silent for a few seconds.

“Human,” said the slime, matter-of-factly.

The boy gasped as he put two and two together, it all began to make sense. The spaceship, the missing astronauts.

The slime slid slowly towards him, growing in size until it towered over the boy. Its gaping human mouth came crashing down upon him, and the boy closed his eyes wishing to be back home. Wishing to see his parents and his two little sisters.

The boy opened his eyes again to see the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling above him. The boy felt the blanket tucked up to his chin, and he could hear the snoring of his dad from the next room.

The boy pulled down the covers and felt the urge to pick his nose. He pulled out a bogey and there it lay innocently on his finger. The boy imagined it with a tiny human mouth, right before opening a mouth of his own and swallowing the creature whole.

4 thoughts on “The Killing Moon: A Short Story

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *