The Salad Spinner Massacre

Humanity had always been excellent at misunderstanding things: fire, taxes, gravity. But this time, they’d truly outdone themselves.

Victor dove behind a crumbling brick wall as a silver harpoon whistled past his ear. Behind him, the mob, torches, pitchforks, and one guy wielding a salad spinner for some reason, screamed: “Bleed the freak!” “Drain him dry!” “Save some for the sangria!”

He grinned. Sunlight stitched his wounds shut. Garlic fueled him. Holy water energized him. A stake through the heart? Not death. A promotion. Eternal consciousness. Forever awake. Forever bleeding.

Captured vampires became miracle tonics. Wrinkles vanished. Cancers dissolved. Egos swelled. Humanity toasted their “victory” over monsters and called it progress.

Victor crushed a garlic bulb in his teeth. Power surged. Dawn spilled over the ruined city, warm and bright. For a heartbeat, the pain in his clawed face eased. He could surrender, let them drink him, become one of the glassy-eyed husks nailed to boards, screaming forever.

No.

He sprinted toward the sun. Behind him, a voice yelled, “He’ll taste better after lunch!”

And the cruelest joke? In their lumpy little hearts, the humans believed they were heroes.

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Both start and finish were surprising, Such a clever theme, fine words laid carefully with a strong core, well worth a second read, Would like to say more but might spoil some readers' interest.

'the humans believed..' is surely inferring there's more to come. I truly hope so.

[Hallow]

I loved the twist. Very creative.