Flash Fiction

An Old Dream Mixed with Some stream of consciousness and good-ass techno

In a past dream, a local DJ planned to unveil a “world-breaking track” that would blow the minds of listeners for ages to come. The song promised to be so good that you wouldn’t be able to turn it off. He hosted a rave in the desert and it was only their that I learned the purpose of his music. But rather than boring you with a stupid dream in the horror genre, here’s an alternate universe’s version of that story.

This song with this scene is just awesome. And one step closer to my dream of publishing a novel that has a soundtrack. Just read this with the song in the background. The next step will be to get an average reading speed in WPM and coordinate emotional rise and drop to with the song meant for the scene. Multidimensional storytelling

 


 

The droning beat deafened him. But the unified feet still overpowered it. The entire crowd marched in place, following the beat in the way you would expect from a hive species. He thought this race of creature rather unique. He noted the environment:

This particular breed  seem to thrive in ubran environments. Often, you find them gathering in droves inside of concrete and steel warehouses. The architecture seems to support the species desire to fill space with sound. Whats more interesting, these creatures tend to recluse during the day, opting to spend much time in dark or dim light, with artifical sources seeming to be the more popular choice. When they do come into light, it is usually moonlight or gentle black light. It is possible therefore, that this species has adapted to a different spectrum. I don’t believe they subsist on spectral light but, it certainly plays a role in social-behavioral decision-making.

As he took in the sight of the room, he realized that the species had a lot of physical variations in pattern and color that he hadn’t expected either:

This particular breed seems to have way more variety in patterning. It’s also worth noting that patterning is much more common than in some of the other species we discovered in this order. I believe patterning is a distinct trait of a separate genus and this species (along with the metalloids). Beyond that, grooming takes on a new meaning in this race. They regularly aid each other in hair removal and seem to take particular delight at less common colors and tuft shapes. Unlike some similar species, which mock those who stand out, this particular kind of animal embraces their variation. This characteristic is also common among other heavily patterned races, once more supporting my hypothesis that this family is further divided than initially presumed. I now believe that the patterned and unpatterned species separate in their social survival behavior. The less patterned species tend to blend in, surviving as part of the herd. Those species whose members more commonly have patterned flesh, however, survive in social situations by garnering attention. This might suggest the different species  could be said to gather in herds (as the former) and flocks (the latter, patterned species).

“Oh, hey there Mister Anthropology!” A beautiful purple-and-black haired female approached. “Are you still taking notes on this shit?”

“I’m crafting a hypothesis on the future of the human race, actually, based on-”

“Shut up! You’re missing all the fun!” She grabbed him by the collar, dragging him through the crowd of people to a spot directly in front of the DJ. “Now, why did I bring you out here?”

“To see what a rave is like, that’s what I’m doing!” He didn’t mean to yell but, the speakers around him clipped at points.

She shook her head, “No, you’re watching a rave! You’re not experiencing it!”

As the petite cyber-punk lost herself to the music, his eyes opened. He listened with amazement the warbly sound translated into melodies and mechanical droning became passionate rhythm. His head began to bob involuntarily. Then, his right leg started to pulse, heel tapping the ground in perfect synchronicity to the music. The rhythmic bouncing of his head traveled down into his shoulders and arms. His head fell and the music enslaved him.  Now, no one remained who was free of the beat. This song had taken hold and the ravers had literally lost their minds somewhere in the ambience. The bass thumped harder, the dancing intensified. Bouncing evolved into jumping, swaying evolved into shoving. Soon, the warehouse was little more than a chaotic platform of unending energy. Some people couldn’t keep up with the pace and weight of the music. They fell to the ground and the oneswho stayed on their feet danced as if those people didn’t exist.

The light began to strobe violently. Rainbow flashes across the venue caused more problems. Some fell to seizures, others simply grew naseous. But, the crowd couldn’t stop. As bodies dropped and exhaustion kicked in, the party continued. It seemed nobody could see past their own nose or think beyond the music.

The DJ followed maniacal laugh with a sinister grin. He rolled his head around, his neck a soft noodle of a tether following his seemingly detached head.

“No one can escape the music! Dance yourselves to death!”

That twisted smile never faded as his body went into spasm. He cackled as he convulsed and the music got louder, blowing out the windows with sheer pressure. Several of the audience hit the ground as eyes exploded, teeth rattled out of their heads. The music showed no signs of ceasing. It only pushed the  warehouse to dance harder. More ravers fell and were instantly trampled to death by their fellow prisoners of song. The DJ’s seizing body burst into a flash fire and disintegrated in seconds. The music continued to play even after every single body had collapsed in a pile of raw bloody feet and  wrinkled, dehydrated flesh.

On that day, the world changed forever.

 

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