MicroHorror

Alf Dagger was a reporter who specialized in hot technologies. Ever discreet, he visited the cell phone store early before it opened for the regular public. Today’s story would be about the hottest selling cell phones, the ones implanted directly into one’s brain.

Alf sat on a smooth bench near the back of the cell phone store. He waited for the pain of a pin prick to dissipate. He sniffed and could still smell the lingering odor of rubbing alcohol.

The salesman said, “Just one quick test and you’ll be out of here.” The salesman fingered an old-time ear bud.

Alf’s ear itched. As he had been instructed, he thought about answering and a voice floated inside his head, “Testing one, two, three.”

“All clear!” Alf thought back. He smiled and stood up. “This sounds way better than the old phone. What do I owe you?”

“Already debited,” a click then Alf heard the rest of the words directly from the salesman’s mouth, “You’re set to go.”

The first call Alf made was to his editor. He thought about calling and, inside his head, heard his editor’s phone ring. Alf smiled. Totally hands free. He could stand in the middle of the street and juggle and still make calls.

“Mr. Nounen is away from his desk, please leave a message.”

Alf smiled and hung up. If his boss wasn’t in yet, he felt no rush himself. He looked around for a coffee shop. He felt his ear itch.

“Hello,” he thought.

“This is the AT&T Security office. Disable your phone at once and seek an upgrade immediately. A phone virus has been… click.”

Alf looked around. He was standing in that small park near city center. How had he gotten there? “I was on my way to work,” he said aloud trying to allay his confusion. “On the sidewalk, but now I’m in this park.” Two kids were playing Frisbee. Pigeons flew overhead. The grass smelled newly mowed.

Alf’s ear itched.

Alf found himself in an alley. A dumpster next to him stank of garbage. He was breathing hard and his legs ached as if he’d been running. In his hand he held a woman’s handbag. He stood up straight and felt his side hurt. He looked and found his coat and shirt cut and the skin underneath bleeding. He appeared to have been cut by a knife.

“What the hell,” Alf began, but then his ear itched again.

A horrible screeching and rumbling shook his entire body. Alf covered his ear. Dust swirled and the stink of oil and blood filled the air. He closed his eyes. The noises subsided. Alf opened his eyes. A locomotive car was inches from his face. He looked to his right and found another man standing there, his face also mere inches from the train car. “What happened?” Alf asked.

The man looked at him. “Didn’t you see? They all threw themselves in front of the train. Hundreds of them.”

Alf shook his head. “Didn’t see it.”

The man nodded at Alf. “There’s blood running out of your ears.”

Alf felt his ears. They were sticky. He looked at the man again. “There’s blood in your ears too.”

Alf felt a buzz on his chest. It was his old cell phone, a fancy pin he wore on his lapel. He tapped it with a trembling hand and said, “Hello.”

“Where the hell have you been?” It was his editor. “All hell’s been breaking loose. Something big is happening and it’s happening all over the world. I need you in here now.”

“I’m not sure where I am,” Alf said. “But I’m pretty sure it’s over.”

Alf heard screaming. He looked behind and saw dozens of people jumping off an overpass. Most just jumped silently. A few jumped and then screamed.

“Never mind,” he said. But the connection had already been dropped.