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Day #21: UWOs

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The Story:

The menacing tone was unmistakable. The threat was real. They were coming.

The entire town had been on edge, many of its residents afraid to even leave their homes these last few days. Rumors were everywhere; no one knew for sure what was true and what wasn’t. The police were investigating but had found nothing to calm the growing alarm each citizen now felt.

Prior to the invasion, the town of Threebees was the picture of the quintessential all American small town. Picket fences surrounding well-kept Colonial period homes, lush parks and bike paths, and a lovely downtown area with shops, a few pubs alongside Tilly’s Diner and city hall at the end of Main Street. A wonderful place to live and raise a family, Threebees almost seemed untouched by the outside world and its troubles.

That had all come to a crashing end less than six months ago when the first signs of the ‘UWO’, as they were to be called, appeared. The townspeople initially shrugged it off, thinking it was just some kids having a bit of fun… it was harmless.

Then Betty Lynn didn’t come home one night.

She was the first to disappear, but not the last. Over the course of the next five months, 14 more young people went missing. Not a trace, not a note, not a clue was ever found that could lead police to any answers. Until two days ago. During the time of the disappearances people began to notice oddly shaped tracks and drag marks in Upton Park; bizarre marks on store fronts, billboards and street signs were growing in number; the frequency of calls reporting strange noises in the middle of the night called into the Threebees police station had grown by over 200%. No one really connected these happenings with the disappearances until Smith Johnson (yes, he knows he has two last names) unwittingly caught a glimpse of something while he was filming some ducks splashing in the lake for a short film he was making.

Upon reviewing his footage that day, Smith noticed something enter the frame in the top right corner and then vanish again in the blink of an eye. He rewound the tape and watched it several more times but was unable to distinguish what he was seeing. At first it appeared to be a man in camouflage, but the proportions were all wrong. It was too hunched, too bow-legged and where its arms should be were what appeared to be small tuning forks… not to mention a raised ridge (of scales?) going up its back. “What is that?” Smith was inches from the screen, staring at the frozen image. Deciding that his curiosity had to be squelched, Smith ejected the footage, hopped on his bike and immediately headed to Frank’s house. Frank was in film school at the local community college and he and Smith had worked on a few projects together. Frank was also one of “those guys” who had to have all the latest software and hardware on the market, including a program that could enhance the image Smith now had in his backpack.

“It can’t be. This has got to be some kind of prank. Are you messing with me Smith, cause I don’t have time for this crap, I’ve got a ton of editing to do on Lazer Snake,” Frank took a pull from his Mt. Dew and gave Smith the stink eye. “Swear to God, this is no joke. It isn’t doctored, and it’s what I shot at the lake today. What do you think we should do?” Smith was getting anxious; the knot in his stomach had been growing since first laying eyes on what he referred to as: UWO (Unidentified Walking Organism). “Give it to the police, let them handle it,” Frank said in his usual indifferent tone.

A day after turning in the tape to Threebee’s finest, a shoe identified as belonging to Betty Lynn and other items belonging to several of the missing were discovered a small distance from where Smith had been filming by the lake. The police set to work putting up video surveillance all around the area in an attempt to capture additional footage of the UWO. That way they could at least better understand what they were dealing with. The feed of the half dozen cameras was routed to the police chief’s office, where one of the junior officers now watched, and tried not to doze off.


Jerry Finklestein nearly jumped out of his skin as two of the senior officers doubled over in laughter in the doorway. “What are you doing, Finklestein? You know you’re supposed to be watching for a big bad monster, not catching up on your shut eye, Sleeping Beauty,” Toby, one of the officers, jeered before laughing all over again at the fun he and Keith were having at the rookie’s expense.

“What in God’s name…” Keith was no longer laughing and instead was starring in shock at the computer monitor. “What? Is it the big bad ‘ol monsta, comin to eat us awl up? Let me see,” Toby laughed as he joined his colleagues behind the chief’s desk.

There were so many. They were everywhere. And they had someone else. Not able to make out who it was being dragged into the lake by one of the UWO, the three officers leaned closer in an attempt to make out any discernable feature of the obviously terrified victim. “Zoom in! Zoom in!” Keith screamed. Clawing at the ground and kicking at their attacker, whoever it was was putting up one hell of a fight. Just as the lower half of their body began to disappear, Jerry zoomed the camera in. “Jesus!” Toby screamed, “That’s my kid sister, Marla!”

The screen went black.

A scratching sound outside of the chiefs’ window soon drew the three officer’s attention away from the blank screen of the computer monitor. Now it sounded as if a heard of three or four horses were galloping in the street outside of the station. The lights went out. The scratching sounded as if it was coming from inside now.

The menacing tone was unmistakable. The threat was real. They were coming.


The Not So Fantastic Reality:

The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:

ONE:        I saw the picture above and simply had to write about it. The end.

TWO:        Ok, if you have to have more details… after a lovely (and healthy!) dinner tonight at a cool local spot we have wanted to try called BikesBeansBoudreaux Café, I saw this charming piece of graffiti on the wall outside of the shop next door. It was so playful, so simple… L O V E. Also, the town name is a derivative of the BikesBeansBoudreaux Café, or BThree as they are locally known.

THREE:     Franks’ film, Lazer Snake and Smith’s film project are both references to my peach of a boyfriend who has been working on creating a video for various (and little known) artists and their songs to put up on YouTube. He does this for no other reason than his simple love and admiration for other creative-types who should get their due, and usually don’t. That… and he quite simply loves doing it.

Love & Squirrels.


About samshine20

Writing a fictious story based on my day's events... every day. Apparently this is how I celebrate turning 30. That's me! ...just a girl with dream. And a blog.

One response »

  1. blackwatertown

    You are very good at this.
    Good story.
    Really like it.


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