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Literature Text
“Chitters”
They fell upon the forest mammoth and before it even had time to bellow in alarm, covered it in a writhing mass of slick shining bodies the hue of midnight. You could hear their oversized teeth clicking, like somebody rattling a box full of stones. The mound heaved and the things fell away, parting like black water to reveal a skeleton. Like land walking piranhas, they’d stripped the critter to the bone in the blink of an eye, only now did what was left slump to the ground.
Ugly to behold, they stood around, gnashing their teeth, grinding them, clicking them together. They were all teeth; all jaw; set into a watermelon head attached to a tiny ball of a body; supported by powerful bird-legs. A stiff tail stuck out from behind tipped with a red disk. If Mother Nature had fallen into a drunken, drug induced vision, she could not have dreamed up the likes of these.
They chittered and gnashed and turned their eyeless faces towards us. Their gestalt attention settled unwaveringly. The knight said, “Oh shit!” and I yelled, “Run” and so we did. They dogged us and nipped at our heels (think I’m being dramatic? I have an old pair of boots I’d like you to view) and snapped their teeth on our fleeing shadows. Only the river saved us for they wouldn’t chance its waters.
That was years and lifetimes ago. In all my travels I’ve not seen anything like them again. It’s well enough, for to this day I still have nightmares of writhing darkness full of teeth going “chitter-chitter, chitter-chitter”.
They fell upon the forest mammoth and before it even had time to bellow in alarm, covered it in a writhing mass of slick shining bodies the hue of midnight. You could hear their oversized teeth clicking, like somebody rattling a box full of stones. The mound heaved and the things fell away, parting like black water to reveal a skeleton. Like land walking piranhas, they’d stripped the critter to the bone in the blink of an eye, only now did what was left slump to the ground.
Ugly to behold, they stood around, gnashing their teeth, grinding them, clicking them together. They were all teeth; all jaw; set into a watermelon head attached to a tiny ball of a body; supported by powerful bird-legs. A stiff tail stuck out from behind tipped with a red disk. If Mother Nature had fallen into a drunken, drug induced vision, she could not have dreamed up the likes of these.
They chittered and gnashed and turned their eyeless faces towards us. Their gestalt attention settled unwaveringly. The knight said, “Oh shit!” and I yelled, “Run” and so we did. They dogged us and nipped at our heels (think I’m being dramatic? I have an old pair of boots I’d like you to view) and snapped their teeth on our fleeing shadows. Only the river saved us for they wouldn’t chance its waters.
That was years and lifetimes ago. In all my travels I’ve not seen anything like them again. It’s well enough, for to this day I still have nightmares of writhing darkness full of teeth going “chitter-chitter, chitter-chitter”.
What the heck's this? It's just a little descriptive piece about critters you probably don't want to meet.
© 2005 - 2024 AarowSwift
Comments6
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Only complaint I have is that you compared their heads to melons twice. That's a no-no in short pieces like this unless it's somehow symbolic. Other than that, a fine little vignette. I approve.