Here is a flash fiction story I wrote:
I hated my life. I never felt like I belonged in society. I had friends growing up, but not many and they never lasted. I was utterly alone, no matter how many people were around me. I lived alone. I went to my full time job, then went to my part time job, then went home. That was my life in its entirety, which, of course, is not a life. I was barely existing, running on autopilot. Despite that, I was more awake than the majority. Perhaps that’s why I was so alone. I was awake in a sea of zombies, searching for other non-zombies.
There were only two things that helped my mood, walking and music. So I usually combined the two. It was fall, and the colors were gorgeous. It looked like a painting, didn’t seem like anything that beautiful should exist in the human world. The vibrant reds, purples, and oranges were incredible. It made me forget everything for just a little while. I didn’t feel alone, which was strange because I was the only person there.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something strange. I went to get a closer look, turning off my mp3 player. I could hear a deep warbling sound, which got louder as I approached. There was a portal of some kind. The center was purple, and the outside was black. Something was pulling me towards it. As I got closer, tentacles shot out and grabbed me, pulling me inside. I was not afraid…which struck me as odd.
They filled my head with thoughts and information, “one of us…one of us” they kept saying. Then I understood, I was here for a purpose. They put me back in the forest, and there was a man standing there with wide eyes, smelling of fear. I threw him into the portal, and as the screams echoed, the portal shut. I turned away and walked back home…