‘Run A-FOWL On Eukarymora: SftE Writing Exercise #4’ by Eddie White
"Bruh………WHAT THE FUCK!?" Shantrice rages, running erratically through a field of rank grass. "I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS!"
It's been three hours since she, Sinead and Dexter landed on the planet Eukarymora, a world once inhabited by many extraterrestrial, humanoid species of animals, like the Haliaxdae which Professor Corsair is a part of.
Previously, it was assumed that the planet had been completely destroyed in the aftermath of the war between the Haliaxdae and the T'Karians, an assumption that is now proved false. It turns out that it was just left abandoned save for the primitive, alien wildlife, of which a feral member is currently pursuing the three.
"Well, hey! We didn't sign up for it either!" Dexter declares as he scrambles through the field, dashing past Shantrice and Sinead. They've been running from the wild creature for a quarter of an hour and Dexter's legs feel like jelly. Probably can say the same for the other two, despite them being more athletic.
"Yeah! Dexter's right!" Sinead chimes in, her breath fogging up the glass in the helmet of her SafeSuit. "We did not sign up to be chased by whatever that………THING is! Actually, we didn't sign up at all!"
"UGH! Who cares if you 'signed up' or not!?" barks Shantrice, feeling like she's close to collapsing. "I was talking about me!"
"You're not the only one out here risking your fuckin' neck on some godforsaken planet!" Sinead retaliates.
"And? You're both here of your own accord, so quit the fuckin' bellyachin' and just run!"
"Look at you, being your usual dismissive, inconsiderate self!" Sinead rails. "It won't hurt you to have some principles, ya' know!"
Shantrice is puzzled now, but not particularly surprised. Every time they go on a mission, Sinead voices her displeasure. However, she only seems to complain once the two get in over their head. While being saddled with regret in the heat of the moment is expected, Shantrice is sick of her playing that same old song. Any other time, she would have nipped it in the bud, but the situation is compounded with Dexter being around.
"How the fuck did this turn into some shit about me being inconsiderate!?"
"Because you are!" Sinead squeals.
She's hot, tired, almost out of breath and tasting the briny streams of sweat that have rolled into her mouth. If she has to run one more mile, she may very well combust or, on the other end of the spectrum, evaporate. An over-exaggeration, sure, but it's how she feels at the moment.
"You never think about anybody else when it comes to this adventure shit! It's always all about you!"
"Bitch please!" Shantrice spurns, halting her running to confront Sinead. "You act like I twisted y'all arm or put a glock to ya' head or some shit. Calm the fuck down."
"It was like you did!" Sinead inveighs, bringing herself to a stop as well.
"How, Sinead!? Exactly how!?"
Sinead furiously marches over to Shantrice and glares into her eyes. Because of her height, she has to lean over a bit to accomplish this. "You guilt-tripped us."
"Did you just say guilt-tripped?" Shantrice queries, her pulse pounding with rage.
"Yes, guilt-tripped."
"GUILT-TRIPPED!?" Shantrice roars, craning her neck as she maneuvers her helmeted head upwards. This action inadvertently—but probably somewhat intentionally—makes her slightly headbutt Sinead, who brushes it off.
"Did I stutter, Shan?"
"Have you lost your fuckin' mind, boo-boo!? Didn't nobody guilt-trip you!" Shantrice retorts, her booming voice frightening a murder of alien crows in a tree nearby. "I offered you a choice—learn the difference!"
"Tuh! Whatever, wench!" Sinead reacts, folding her arms across her chest and rolling her eyes. "I said what I said!"
"I don't give a fuck what you said, I didn't do that shit!" Shantrice counters. She shoves Sinead, which causes her to stumble backwards and fall hard on her posterior. "You have a mind of your own, you know how to say no—start using it!"
While that clash of personalities was occurring, Dexter had been high-tailing it. He was running so that he didn't even realize Shantrice and Sinead weren't running behind him. Despite the hubbub they had going on, he hadn't heard a thing. He was in his own little world where his fear of being killed was fueling his dogged determination to escape.
However, just as soon as he felt he was home free, a scream from the girls cut through his oblivious state, forcing him to turn around.
"Oh shit! Shantrice! Sinead!"
There, at least a foot or two away from him, the girls were running zig-zag through the grass to dodge the massive blasts of fire exiting the creature's mouth. With every fiery, spiraling discharge expelled, the girls come closer and closer to being hit. In a panic and not looking at all where they are going, the two collide.
"OW! FUCK!" the girls scream in unison, hitting the ground in a crumble of disorientation. Now that they are a bit too dizzy and exhausted to move, they just lay there, awaiting their fate.
"Well, Nady………I guess this is it," groans Shantrice with a strained chuckle. She has found herself stuck, laying in a supine position, while Sinead is prone and slumped on top of her.
"Eh………I guess it is………," Sinead winces, dragging out a weak laugh of her own as blood dribbles from the corner of her mouth, marking the lens of her helmet with scarlet splatter. When they collided, she bit her tongue in a nasty way, and now, not only is the taste of salty sweat a discomfort, but also the ferrous flavor of the ruddy fluid pooling around her gums. "I think I'm gonna be sick………"
Shit! I gotta do something, Dexter thinks to himself as the creature—which is a gigantic alien cockerel resembling the Red junglefowl—ceases its chase, letting loose a monstrous and almost deafening crowing noise. Dexter nor the girls had really given the massive bird a thorough look, mostly because they were too busy running for their lives. However, Dexter is examining every single aspect of the feral beast.
From its pearlescent plumage, to the membranous sac—filled with a glowing, gold fluid—bulging from its breast area (which is also connected to the pewter-colored wattles under its fulvous beak), to its wings so generously armored with iron gray osteodermal plates and finally at its mulberry-colored cockscomb, which appears to be fused to the cranial orbit containing its singular crimson eyeball, completely lacking a defined iris and pupil.
Keenly obsessing over every detail, he's hoping that some part of it can be a weakness.
"C'mon! Think, Dexter, think!" he screams while pacing back and forth, vacillating in his head on which of his powers to call forth. As he does, Shantrice manages to roll Sinead off of her chest and sit up, her eyes fixated on him and his excited muttering.
"Boy, whatever you gon' do, do that shit now before we're fried to a fricassee over here!"
"Alright, alright! Just gimme a minute, I need to concentrate," he says, waving his left hand in a dismissive motion towards her.
"Ooooooh………YOU SLOW-ASS BOY! We don't have a fuckin' minute!" grouses Shantrice. "You lucky I'm hurting right now, or I'd get off this ground and kick your ass!"
"Hold your horses!" Dexter protests, keeping a firm eye on the creature. "That bird is at rest right now, probably charging up."
"Ummm………and that's supposed to be a good thing!?"
"For me it is!" Dexter exults. "It means there's a window open to strike hard and fast!"
"Dexter………," Shantrice starts, gritting her teeth.
"Hold up," Dexter motions again.
"Bartholomew………," Shantrice continues.
"Hold on!" he pleads.
"James………"
"Just a minute!"
"SEAGRAVE!"
"EUREKA!" Dexter rejoices, finally hitting what he feels is the jackpot of ideas. "I know exactly how to stop it!"
"This shit better work!" Shantrice growls.
"Oh, it will, Shan!" Dexter proclaims. "I'm sure of it!"
Removing the gloves on his SafeSuit, he closes his eyes and prepares himself to utter his oft-repeated mantra.
"I claim it, therefore it will be so: the powers of Absolute Strength and Fuego-Fists— COMBINE!"
Every muscle in his body tightens and bulks up, expanding the nanofibers of his suit, while his hands glow red-hot and began emitting golden sparks along with dazzling orange flames. Speaking into the mic in his helmet, he activates the vented thrusters on the SafeSuit's back and legs then takes flight towards the effulgent sac on the direful bird.
"Time to fry up some chicken!" he cackles loudly, not yet out of Shantrice's earshot.
"SHITTY STEREOTYPE!" Shantrice screams from below. "CUT THAT BULLSHIT OUT, BRUH!"
"What? I was just making a joke!" Dexter yells back.
"Horrible joke! Was never gonna land well!"
"Meh, whatever!" Dexter grunts, cocking his right arm back to throw a powerful punch at the formidable bird's chest. "Let's get this over with!"
His blazing fist collides with a mighty impact into the sac, but barely makes a scratch. Almost immediately, the reverberating contact sends Dexter hurtling back towards the lush terrain.
"AHHHHH!"
"COOOKARAAAAW! COOOOOKARAAAAW!" the junglefowl thunders, enraged by Dexter's botched attack.
"I thought you said this would work, Dexter!" Shantrice fumes. "What the fuck happened!?"
"I DON'T KNOW, SHANTRICE!" Dexter frets. His misguided endeavor has left him a frustrated wreck and rendered temporarily impuissant. "I thought it would, that's honest. There's obviously something I didn't account for when I planned that attack. Fuck!"
"Ugh! Get right, boy, get right!"
With Sinead out of commission while both Shantrice and Dexter are in excruciating states of pain, all seems to be lost. The irate cockerel horrendously crows again, charging itself up to exhale another scorching assault and finish off the ragtag trio.
🐓🐓🐓
