FS02One night this week I had a dream and when I woke up I thought, that would make an awesome sci-fi short story! And so I started writing it this week and this is the opening. Be warned this is a first draft and still rough. Enjoy!

*WARNING* Adult material (cuss word)


The fibreglass body of the heat gun nestled in the crook of Cara’s elbow, pointing towards the ground. Her finger brushed over the safety toggle.

‘Let me in!’ The face of Cara’s childhood friend stared at her through the chain link fence. It was exactly how she remembered it: stained with a heavy coat of acne; gold rimmed spectacles and a mess of brown hair; every detail was the same even to how the girl’s lip curled over her teeth and the stubby, dirt filled nails.

‘Get lost or I’ll shoot,’ said Cara. Her childhood friend pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and rattled the fence again.

‘You can’t shoot! You have to let me in; it’s dangerous out here! Please,’ the friend begged, her voice rising in pitch as a wobble of terror crept in.

Cara aimed the heat gun at her childhood friend and flipped the safety switch.

‘You have ten seconds to fuck off or I’ll melt your face,’ she said.

‘What are you doing? You can’t shoot me. Please Cara, I’ll do anything. Just let me in!’ The use of Cara’s name made her stomach tighten as red heat rose into her neck, cheeks and ears.

‘Ten…nine…eight…’ she lifted the gun into the crook of her shoulder and spied down the sight, her spare hand on the forestock to hold is steady. Her childhood friend sank a little on her knees and began rattling the fence like a rabbit dog, the chains clinking to the rhythm of her fear.

‘Please!’ a shriek tore at the girl’s throat in a wild plea as tears rolled down her face.

‘Seven… six…. five…’ Cara tried to count louder to drown out the sound of her friend’s plea, but nothing ever could… it was useless. She took a deep breath and tried to calm the quivering of her knees and the cold wave that crashed through her stomach.

‘Four… three…’ The gun hummed as it charged, the muzzle glowing orange, the last colour many people see.


‘Cara!’ The friend screamed once more as Cara squeezed the trigger. The beam of heat erupted from the gun and sailed past the head of her friend, scouring the chains of the fence and eventually fading as the blast missed its target, and for the lack of another one, dissipated into the cool morning air.

‘You have to let me in now!’ the friend was on her knees crying freely now as Cara lowered the gun and engaged the safety switch. There was no way she could shoot the creature that wore her dead friend’s face. It was just too real.


Thanks for reading! Any comments would be great 🙂