I’m a big believer in exercises to keep writing skills fresh, so a bit of flash fiction using six assigned words is a nice break from the usual.
Smell of bacon always brings ’em.
Normally these beasties would be smart enough to stay clear, but a little combustion and pork turns them into zombies, heading right to me like a moth to a flame. Can’t say I blame them, since it’s delicious.
But so are they. Best source of protein on this rock.
The critters come skittering in– eighteen horrible legs each. I pick up my knife and get ready. First one approaches, and I aim right for the top of its thorax. Piercing the hard exoskeleton, I slice into the gelatinous nerve center– closest thing it has to a brain. It goes down fast, which is good, because the next is already right on me. Another quick stab puts it down as well, and then a third.
Now the scent in the air changes, and the beasts know what’s up. The rest run off.
Three kills. I can eat well for a couple weeks on that. Which is good, since I’m running out of bacon.