Bus to the Airport | Dystopia | Short Story | 700 Words

gray road in between trees in grayscale photography

The road was long, dark and empty and she had a wallet with a lot of cash and card in it. Her backpack was almost empty. But the sight was scary. The grass were not green but wore a night shade of thick darkness that camouflaged its bright beauty. The green grass on the side road had a mystic beauty sure but as a lone woman of 30 it was scary indeed.

Early morning 5 o clock sojourn wasn’t how Dina expected her weekend getaway to go, but strange time requires stranger steps of survival.

She wished she didn’t meet anyone even as her heart was pounding, but her pace was brisk, not slow, but brisk so that she could find a vehicle and get the fuck out of the place.


Dina said yes to her colleagues invitation for a bachelor party in the quaint hills of lonavala even as the workload was crippling. It was a time of celebration, everyone was going, she had to go or else she will be abandoned from the group again, and be at the receiving end due to her personality. Honestly she didn’t like her coworkers at all. They would make fun of her, hide her lunch box, diary, and even tattle in front of the boss on her inadequacies. “She doesn’t get along with us co workers, isn’t a team player” they would coo to the bossman. And he would eventually listen. Strength in numbers they say.

So the bossman said, invite Dina to Leila’s bachelor party. And so the invitation cards were made, and  10 people were transported in the tranquil land of Lonavala.


Dina saw the bus coming. She waved her hand, and the old rusty bus stopped.

“Maam, where to?”

“International Airport”


Keep our bags in the room naa dear?

The “requests” started pouring in.

“bring me water” “don’t sit there” “why are you so dumb”

Dina would think these rich brats were to be disciplined. But a secretary job could never make these rich children respect.

As they sat closely with each other chatting, drinking merrily gossiping. That’s when it started. The strongest buzz was heard. Came from the skies. It threw a green light.

The noise was so strong, some of the people in the room started puking.

Dina wasn’t affected.

Everyone collapsed.

Dina frozed with fear.

From the window, the curtains were eerily still, when a figure with green eyes, yellow humanoid body revealed itself. It communicated.

“You seem to be immune to our weapon. ”

“Huh?”

What should we do to get your silence?

huh? She was paralysed with fear couldnt speak apart from making that noise – “huh?”

The creature took on a more friendly appearance of a human, at that time.

Dina went again.

Huh?

The creature now in Leila’s avataar says – is this more bearable?

Dina finally found words to speak.

“What are you?”

The creature was happy to comply.

We are not going to be easily understood by you or your people. All we need are some regular sacrifices which we get it through our buzzy weapon. Now we don’t have any equipment to kill you or have use for you so we have no resources so we just have to discard you. So off you go, and don’t tell this to anyone, okay?

No it can’t happen. You killed them!

Sigh. What do you need money? Okay you can collect money from these friends of yours, and then leave the country. If we find you we kill you. Okay. We in the generous mood, because good kill.

I don’t have money or anything!

The creature than tossed a palm sized giant rock of gold and silver in her direction. Take this and leave. Between you and me, you were not here. Okay.

Now go before we change our mind, and remedy this pretty little problem of useless weapon that doesn’t kill all of human race. GO!


That’s how Dina left the building, not before checking her wallet, passport, and driving license were in order.


Dina kept thinking.

Where to before the world erupts in flames? From airport I’ll go to the land where trees are strong, skies are pretty, and Sun still shines. Anywhere the world takes me.

One thought on “Bus to the Airport | Dystopia | Short Story | 700 Words

  1. Pingback: What is a Story? | Fairy Dharawat Blog

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