Floating Ink

by James Livingood

FLOATING INK

  James Livingood

  Copyright © 2016 James Livingood

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE: Invasion

  CHAPTER TWO: Executive

  CHAPTER THREE: The Cabin

  CHAPTER FOUR: Howling

  CHAPTER FIVE: Caretaker

  CHAPTER SIX: Walls

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Sand

  CHAPTER ONE

  Invasion

  Ruth was the queen of rats and the trendsetter of black soot stains. Most of her days were spent entertaining her cockroach subjects with tales of her valor. They were a captive audience, held in a shoe box with holes. When the queen desired a boo and a hiss, she would shake the box. When she told the best part of a story, the food, she would share a morsel. All who gazed at her natural beauty fell in love. Perhaps that’s why so few people saw her, honestly. Who could risk such a life-long fate?

  Her kingdom was not 50 paces from one of the biggest mansions in town. Steam pipes sputtered hot moisture in the custom built sauna. A decorative river ran through the sauna. She had set rules that the river could not be used for cleaning, after all, it was decorative only. Those who honored Ruth would often leave presents for her in the decorative river. These gifts of homage floated down gently waiting for her to notice and discover. She had plucked out gifts of worn shoes, frayed belts, chipped cups, stained plates, and more.

  She sat on a stone bench near the sauna room. By royal decree, this place was called the Queen’s museum. Small shelves made of bricks popped out from various sides. These shelves held antiquities and gifts of homage she had received throughout town.

  A black button from a gentleman caller was gracefully set on one brick. A spool of silken thread, disguised as wool, was put in a place of high honor. Her royal cardboard court of cockroaches was often found here. Ruth had spent much of her 25 years of life looking for such a keen collection. When she had found this storage location, she knew she had found home.

  Today was not a day to celebrate such a magnificent, bejeweled level of sophistication. Today the queen had appointments and appearances she must make. A local band had requested the pleasure of her company by posting a sign near her royal residence. It would be a celebration in the park once she arrived. The pleasure of her company did not come without cost. The promise of free picnic food would be her due compensation for an afternoon well spent. If the music pleased her, perhaps she would be inclined to reschedule a few other appointments. Nothing could be guaranteed, though. After all, she was a queen.

  ——————

  Ruth walked among the people enjoying the music in the park. Women wore elegant hats adorned with peacock feathers and lace ribbons. The men mostly had slicked back hair and fanciful facial hair. One gentleman had a goatee, another a slick mustache curled into two points. She turned to the center of the park and the music playing there. On either side of the stage were upside down top hats, filled with coins and dollars. She contemplated grabbing one of the top hats for fashion reasons, but decided against it. Ruth turned back to her task of digging through trash cans, looking for half-eaten sandwiches and other “too-soon” discards. People were so wasteful in her eyes. Most weren’t even appreciating the musical talent presented on stage. She decided to separate herself from the crowd and learn about the music. Ruth wanted to understand the song in a way that others could not.

  She sat down against a tree and took in the band. She could see they were playing a long melody that kept going in circles. Ruth admired the talent and wanted to see if one day she could play such a song. She watched the artist's hands and how they plucked the guitar strings. Ruth could also tell that the chorus was particularly tricky as the man stuck out his tongue a little while trying to play. How many people had noticed the man’s tongue? The sour note strummed was the first indication something was wrong. The guitar player stopped playing, which caused the other members of the band to slow down their pace. The melody slowly washed away on the painted wood stage, through the cracks, and onto the grass of the park.

  As the members of the band stretched their necks to the sky, the audience, lying on the lawn on soft blankets also looked up. In the sky was an unnaturally black blot, the size of a horse. Like a giant inkwell had spilled from the clouds and it ran over a shape. It was hard to understand the purpose of the flying object, as black tentacles went in and out of the body with each motion. A black metallic shine served to point out the device against the sunny sky. Soft whirs and clicks sounded from the instrument as it plodded along through the sky. The device bobbed up and down as if sucking in air from around its expanse. The tentacles appeared to be scooping in the air the same way a man would cup water to their mouth. It was at that moment of complete silence that Ruth chose to speak.

  “What’s that foul looking thing?” she pointed upward, “It looks like a shadow puppet.”

  Ruth stood from her tree and adjusted her dress. While the dress alone was comfortable on a hot day, all the extra layers trapped in heat like a winter coat. She fidgeted with her hair, secretly checking for sweat. The initial droplets had begun to form, so she took out her best cloth and dabbed at her face. When no one responded to her question, Ruth looked around. Everyone was still staring with wide eyes towards the shape in the sky. Her own eyes rolled, and her head began to shake.

  “It’s a party favor! Nothing more. What is everyone’s jaws so open?”

  Still, no one moved or made a comment. In truth, Ruth could feel her doubt within. A nervous vibration of the unknown was moving up to her throat. Her mother had taught her that valor and elegance were part of womanhood. These were grown men and women acting like foolish country bumpkins gawking at the first light bulbs they had ever seen. The doubt and nerves she felt soon swelled into anger. She would show these people that there was nothing to fear. A valorous and elegant woman could handle any situation.

  Ruth undid the buttons on her worn boot and threw it at the object in the sky. She wasn’t sure what the end result would be, but she certainly didn’t mean to hit the thing. Her face turned red as soon as it dawned on her that throwing shoes wasn’t very lady-like. That embarrassment faded as the device reacted to the leather laced boot threat. A beam of light, like the kind that breaks from a cloud on a gray day, shot down toward the now still boot on the ground. The boot exploded seconds afterwards. Bits of leather and lace falling out of the sky like an unnatural snow.

  Being herd animals, everyone just looked at the boot with quizzical looks. It didn’t register with people that there could be something dangerous about a light that makes things explode. Ruth’s frustrated scream at losing her favorite boot, finally snapped the crowd into action. In a disorganized manner, they grasped at their blankets and possessions, trying to exit the scene. While it didn’t make sense to risk their life for a blanket, panic doesn’t render wisdom.

  Ruth didn’t care about the chaos around her. Instead, she only looked toward the ruin of her prestigious boot. She really enjoyed that footwear. It was not only elegant enough for a day out, but it was comfortable. That is what started to boil her fear even further, that the footwear had been so comfortable and was now gone. She took the other boot off and threw it at the device. If the thing had taken one boot, it might as well have the other.

  This time, before the boot struck, the light appeared and the boot shredded mid-air. Screams around the leather hide remnant surged and then died down as people fled. Ruth put her hands to hips, determined to find out who had ruined her most comfortable pair of footwear. She would make them pay for a new pair. She would give them a heaping helping of her mind and then make them open up their purses to pay for this stunt.

  As she tried stomping up to the device, it floated away. The black ink blot floated toward a band
member putting his instrument in a guitar case. The guitarist, who had been so coordinated with his fingers a moment before, now fumbled at the latches. The floating device shined its light on him, and he exploded into a heap of red splotches. Ruth decided that new boots could be found later and that comfort was something to be concerned about another day. She turned on her naked heels and began to run with the crowd.

  As she ran, she saw more black ink dots falling slowly from the sky. The dark rain stopped several feet from the ground and slowly bobbed in various directions. If this were a stunt of some sort, it was done on a massive scale. Luckily for the citizens, no other black ink floaters were shining any lights. They were just slowly moving from one point toward the next. They didn’t seem interested in the running crowds flowing around them.

  Ruth finally got to her home and closed the iron gate. She ran down the tunnel, suddenly stopped, and decided to stay still for several seconds to listen for sounds of being followed. She was the one who had angered them, so it made sense that they would chase her. Slowly, as fear started trickling down and the quiet of a mundane world reasserted itself, she wondered if the whole thing had been a dream or joke. It was a cruel joke to make her think that a person had died.

  Paranoid, she grabbed several nearby trash cans. She assembled them into a makeshift barrier between her and the tunnel opening. They were like a line of metal soldiers standing guard. As she grabbed a lid off one of the cans, she spotted the inky blob of a device floating toward the home. She couldn’t tell if this was the same one as in the park or a new one that she had not seen before. It started a low buzzing noise, like a fly stuck in a windowpane. The device sent its light toward the nearest trash can. Ruth jumped away from the trash cans a moment before one exploded into a heap of refuse and metal bits.

  Lying on the ground, Ruth scuttled away from the slowly floating device. The buzzing continued until the device was above her. It then went still, and the buzzing was cut off with a click. A few moments later a whisper sound started to fill the alley. The sound increased with volume in a gently way.

  “Hello? Hello?” said the metallic voice. The voice sounded like someone was talking into a soup can phone. It also had a gravely kind of tone, as if rocks were in the soup can as it tried to talk.

  “Hello?” She responded back weakly. She wasn’t sure why this device was trying to communicate with her.

  “Good! This one. This one is good. Can she be a caretaker? Yes. Good. Setting power to high.” continued the voice.

  Ruth grabbed the edge of the wall to pull herself up and run. As she turned her back, she saw her silhouette against the bricks. The device was shining a light on her. She froze and prepared to be exploded into a million pieces. Instead, the world slowly went black. It was as if a curtain was pulled from the sides of her vision. She crumpled into a ball on the damp stone. She wasn’t sure how long she was on the cold floor.

  Then a strange feeling of detachment happened. She felt as if everything she once knew no longer mattered. Every person, every thought, every piece of who she had once been no longer mattered. She began to sit up and wonder how she got here. She saw the metallic ink blot moving inches at a time towards her place on the floor. She couldn’t remember why she was afraid of this thing. She turned around and saw herself still lying on the floor. ‘Did that light kill me? Am I dead?’ She wondered. It wasn’t a passionate fear, but more of a resolve. If she were dead, there was nothing to be done. She moved around the thing invading her home, but it did not seem to notice her ghost self. She stared back at her body, thankful for the life it had given.

  It was at that point she saw a ball of light near her head. She bent over and examined the light, just as the creature moved closer to examine her. She saw a small scene inside the ball of light. It was an image of herself walking outside. Why would such an image appear? What did it mean to be floating near her head? She stared at the small sphere watching herself walking around the block. She enjoyed the sight of her body being alive, and that made this little ball of light precious. The dead were not meant to enjoy things, so she felt like a piece of her had returned.

  When the floating creature moved closer, the ball of light started to fade away. It was as if the ball of light was dimming as the creature crept nearer. She was scared to touch the image, but it was scarier to her if the vision went away. Summoning courage she shouldn’t have, she reached out and touched the sphere. As she did, it expanded and became brighter. Soon it was so bright she had to close her eyes.

  She felt her eyes fluttering open as the light dimmed. She felt every ache in every limb as she lay on the floor. She scrambled backward, making sure the creature did not touch her. She ran past the creature and down the street. She was about a block away when she paused to look around. To help separate dream from reality, she slapped her face several times, ensuring the sting meant reality. She would need to find some real shelter and sort all this out.

  She continued down the street toward the market. If she held up in the local market, she would have supplies and company. With any luck, she could compare notes with other people who had encountered these strange creatures. She ran down several blocks of empty streets. There were no cats, dogs, or birds in the streets. It was completely silent.

  As she rounded the corner toward the market, she stopped in her tracks. A line of the creatures had gathered in front of the market. They saw her and started advancing forward. She turned around and began to run down a side street. It was far too late that she realized that the shadows at the end of the alley were not an exit, but an end. The creatures slowly flowed into the alleyway. Ruth threw anything within arm’s reach at the beings; bricks, stones, twigs. The creatures barely slowed at her onslaught of projectiles.

  Again, a tin voice blossomed from the being in the front. “Hello? Hello? This one. Same one. Good. Lower power this time. Almost fried her.”

  A slightly quieter light shone onto Ruth, and she was sure this time she was dead. It pulsed, and she felt herself collapse for a second time in one day.