Squirrel apocalypse [a writing project]

[SDragon]

This week, I'm taking it upon myself to challenge my greatest weakness as a writer: I'm lazy, unfocused, prone to procrastination and distraction, and generally unmotivated. Okay, so maybe that's more than one weakness, but you get the idea. To combat this, I've taken upon myself a humble but steady goal: 550 words, on average, every day, for a week. At the end of the week, I'll have a short story. If this reminds you of NaNoWriMo... well, it should. I got the idea from a contest called Book in a Week, which was inspired by NanoWriMo.

Here's where this thread comes in: In order to help reinforce the discipline needed for this, I'm holding myself accountable. I'm going to keep a record for this project. Each day, I post what I wrote, along with a total word count and the accumulative goal. For now, I'm not looking so much for criticism, constructive or otherwise, but encouragement and support. Perhaps some thoughts on where I can go with the story.

[SDragon]

Hector Riverman took the last drag of his joint, washed it down with a beer, and then decided to light up a cigarette. The reserve had just come out with a new brand of smokes, and a pack was cheaper then what he was getting. If he had any vice, he  figured, then menthol was it.

Looking up, he admired the sun lit foliage of the trees. Beautiful day, it was. He was sure it would be a shame to waste it inside. Besides, he had the whole week to enjoy the cabin before Jared came back from his visit. He even brought his .22 with him, hoping to peg some critters. This was as good of a day as any for that.

Picking up the rifle he ventured off of the porch , to the edge of the woods. At the first sign of movement, he found a squirrel and took aim. A deep breath was needed to help keep himself steady enough to fire a shot, but the round bounced off of a tree. He cursed as his prey darted away. Returning to the porch, he sat down and finished his beer. No point in letting it get warm. His ashes went in the can he finished half an hour ago.

At this point, the day was starting to change to evening, and there would only be a few hours left of sun. He had already been feeling a bit of a buzz from the alcohol, and now the joint was starting to get to his head. A loud bang from the porch roof caught him by surprise. A silent paused followed, and then a scratching. Another squirrel. Hector relaxed. After a moment, the squirrel jumped from the roof. Another squirrel, another chance to take a shot.

Taking the rifle a second time, he peered through the sights. As he placed his finger on the trigger, two more sharp bangs were heard. The first, from the roof again, startled Hector into firing before he could take proper aim.

Again, a squirrel leapt from the roof, but this one turned around and scurried on to the porch. Hector looked for the animal he shot at, and was surprised to see that one headed for the porch as well. He couldn't help but think that something about these critters was a little odd. Normally they would run away from something like that. Instead, they just come even closer to danger. 'Damn...', he muttered to himself, before stepping inside.

After grabbing another beer, he collapsed on the couch and turned the television on and started searching for something decent. News. Next channel. Soap operas. Next. Game shows. Keep going. Reality television? They think this crap is reality? Moving on, he settled on a cheap horror flick that he didn't catch the name of. Something to do with zombies. This seems better than the rest of the channels, at least. Near as he could tell, he managed to catch the movie just as it was starting. The plots to these always struck him as almost laughably predictable. He managed to tune in just as the heroes realized there was some sort of outbreak. Unlike the heroes, Hector was proud to know that he was always prepared to defend himself against outside threats. He would love to see what the zombies would think of his rifle.

Word count: 564/550

[Magnus Pym]

Haha, nice!

[Weave]

This is great stuff! Gives me something to look forward to reading each day.

Keep going!

[Mason]

This is an awesome idea...good luck!

[SDragon]

Thanks, each of you! I hope to be able to provide a bit of reading material for you guys for the rest of the week. I'm glad you guys like it so far.

[Nomadic]

I'll be expecting tomorrow's post :)

[SDragon]

I'll be expecting tomorrow's post :)

Slowly working on it right now!

[SDragon]

The continuing adventure of Hector Riverman and the Squirrel Apocalypse.

Hector was glad that enjoying the movie didn't demand his full attention. First, there was his current state of mind that prevented him from giving that to television. Second, he had the sudden urge to take a leak, and that urge wasn't quite ready to wait for the commercial break. When he entered the bathroom, he decided to open the window. It was, after all, a bit stuffy in the small room. As he finished up, he thought he heard a rustling in the branches. He looked out for a moment, but then decided it was just the wind.

Returning to the movie, he slumped back down on the couch. Ah, so at least the heroes finally managed to gather some weapons. Certainly they needed basic survival necessities, he thought, looking over to his own weapon.

After awhile, he heard another loud bang from the porch, and he wondered briefly how Jared ever got to sleep with all of the squirrels around here. Some scratching at the door, and Hector was starting to get a little frustrated with them. First he couldn't get a good shot, and now he can't enjoy a movie. At the next commercial, he decided to get up and bang his foot against the door. He hoped that would scare them off until the movie was over. At very least, it would stop them until the next commercial break. It didn't. If anything, it seemed to make them try even harder, and the scratching grew louder. He gave up trying to get rid of them, and went to the fridge.

As he opened the refrigerator door, he saw a shape dart across the counter. Even through his inebriation, he quickly realized what the shape was, and he cursed out loud. He knew that he would have to find some way to get the damned thing out of cabin, and soon. He wondered for a moment how it could have come in, in the first place. Then he remembered the bathroom. He left the window open. Damn. He blamed his lack of thought, and then grabbed a new can of beer before closing the fridge door.

He went back to the bathroom to close the window. He didn't care anymore how stuffy that room was. He didn't want any more squirrels to come in. They ceased being minor nuisances, and were starting to become a bit of a problem.

Unfortunately, however, two more were in the bathroom. The first was on the back of the toilet, and the other was in the window sill. The second one was in the way of closing the window. He couldn't help but be more than just a little unnerved at the way they both looked at him, then at each other, and then back at him again. It was if there was something to it. Almost as if there was some sort of intelligence behind it. He didn't like that thought at all. He almost thought of simply closing the bathroom door, but it didn't have any handle; merely a latch on the inside. In order to secure the door closed, he would have to shut himself in. He set his unopened beer down on the counter, next to the sink. The animals stayed put. He knew he was going to have to do something, but first he needed to figure out some sort of plan.

Word Count: 1130/1100

[Magnus Pym]

Awwww... cliffhanger!

[Weave]

I'm scared.

[SDragon]

You should be. You should be.

[SDragon]

Got off to a rather late start today, but I made up for it with a total of 590 words for the day.

First he tried loudly clapping his hands at them. Nothing. After that, he decided to try stomping against the tiled floor. Still, the creatures would not even budge. He turned around, deciding that he could at least give himself time to think about the situation if he closed the door behind him. He figured the squirrels weren't likely to be able to work their way through the five ply door. He took his beer from the counter, and opened it while he tried to think of a plan.

As he finished his first sip, he heard the branches rustling, and a third squirrel landed in on the window sill. The one that had already been there jumped down to the floor. Something bizarre was definitely happening, but Hector could not figure out what, exactly, it was. His thoughts, as well as the sound from the television, were suddenly interrupted by a loud zap, followed by silence. Near as Hector could tell, the television was damaged by the one squirrel that he didn't contain. Damn. It was an expensive set, and he knew Jared wasn't finished paying it off. He was going to have to pay for it.

Hector notice the toilet scrub brush, and tried reaching for it, but the squirrel jumped off of the back of the toilet and on to his arm. He yelled in pain as the claws sunk into his skin, and managed to shake the beast off. It hit the leg of the bathtub, and scurried under for shelter. Blood. He was bleeding. He glared at the squirrel that had attacked him, and then grabbed a towel. It was more than he needed to wrap his arm, but it was all that he had at the moment. Now he would have to replace the towel, too. Not to mention, his beer was now all over the floor. This had become a serious issue.

That was fine, he thought. Everything was okay. Sure, his arm was scratched up, the towel was stained with blood, beer was all over the bathroom floor, the television was dead, there were now four squirrels inside the cabin, and he might get an infection, but all of those were just problems. Problems just need solutions, he reminded himself. All he needed to do was come up with a solution. He took deep breaths to help him calm himself down.

At least he had the toilet brush now. He needed to figure out some way to use it against them. The one remained on the windowsill, claws scratching at the wood, while both of the other two were now under the tub. He could only guess at where the fourth was. It could be dead, for all he knew. He knelt down to the floor, and swung the brush under the tub. It seemed like it would work as a decent swatter. While he was on his hands and knees, something small hit his back hard, and dug into his shirt. He yelled in surprise, and attempted to slap his back with the brush. The other two ran from beneath the tub to the door. He stood up, shaking the squirrel from his back, and it started to dawn on him that he was trapped.

He took the stained towel from his arm to check his bleeding. Fortunately, most of the scratches didn't go deep, but a few of them were still bleeding. He dropped the towel to the floor, to soak up the beer, and searched the medicine cabinet for bandages.

Word count: 1720/1650

[Weave]

Squirrels: the new commoner killer.

[SDragon]

Squirrels: the new commoner killer.

As Magnus said, in chat: "He's getting owned!"