X Meets Y Again

This week's Flash Fiction Challenge is to create a mash-up of two different things, using a Random Number Generator.   The RNG gods are smiling on me today; I have the honor of presenting Terminator meets Lord of the Flies (but not in the literal sense -- I created my own characters and setting).

The Horrific Things One Sometimes Encounters While On an Island Paradise

   Zach's parents were taking him on a cruise to the Bahamas to celebrate his grades and his 14th birthday.  He couldn't wait.
   The cruise started off well enough with buffets and pools with waterslides.  He even met Leslie, the prettiest girl he'd ever known.  She asked him to come to the teen club with her.
   Zach and Leslie had a blast at the exclusive youth club, chatting and watching other kids play video games.
   That's when things went horribly wrong.
   "Hey, guys," the cruise staff member said.  "I just wanted to give you a heads up -- you might feel the ship rock a little.  There's an unexpected storm outside.  But don't worry!  We've got everything under control!"
   The teens shrugged, then went about their playtime.  The boat started rocking more and more violently.  Leslie and Zach held on to each other, terrified of what would happen next as they crouched against the wall.  Everything went dark, and that's when the panic really began.  The ship was rolling around, tossing everything around (except the furniture, which was thoughtfully bolted down).
   The next thing Zach remembered was waking up on a beach.  He looked around and found Leslie draped over the broken remains of a chair.
   She started coughing and spitting sea water.  He ran to help her.
   "Hey!  Are you OK?"
   "I think," she rasped between wheezes.  "What happened?"
   "A storm hit us.  Hard.  The last thing I remember," Zach said as he helped her steady herself," is the ship rocking back and forth.  Stuff was flying everywhere, and everyone was tumbling all over the place.  There was a lot of blood."
   "OHMYGOD," Leslie gasped.  "Where are my parents?!? Where are your parents?!?"
   "I don't know," Zach admitted.  "You're the only other person I've seen since I woke up on this beach."
   "Where are we, anyway?  What is this place?"
   "I don't know.  Let's see if there's anyone else."
   Days passed.  Weeks passed.  They continued on their search, eating whatever tropical fruit they could find, and catching water in enormous banana leaves to drink.
   In mid-afternoon one day, Zach suddenly took off running.
   "I think I see someone," he called back.  Leslie matched his pace, and the two quickly arrived upon a makeshift encampment comprised of broken pieces from the ship.
   As they looked for signs of life, two barrel-chested teen boys stepped in front of them, like underaged bouncers at an oddly themed night club.
   "Whoa!  Where did you two come from," Zach asked.
   "We didn't see either of you on the island -- where did you come from," asked the guard with a bright shock of red hair.
   "I'm Zach, and she's Leslie.  We came from the other end of the mountain," Zach replied, pointing.
   "Oh, of course," the boy said.  "We have been searching for survivors, but we haven't covered the entire island yet.  There hasn't been any sign of civilization, either.  No buildings, no roads, nothing."
   He leered at Leslie.  "We also didn't know if there were any female survivors anywhere."
   Leslie moved closer to Zach.
   "Brock will be pleased," the other said with a sardonic grin.  "We'll take you to him."
   The two guards took Zach and Leslie by the arms and let them further into the camp.
   They entered a large tepee made of large metal scraps with an enormous piece of carpet for a door.  Salvaged sofas and tables were arranged throughout, and a tall, brawny boy stood in the center, wearing an ill-fitting bellhop's jacket over his bare chest.  The guards announced Zach and Leslie's names.
   "I'm glad we found more survivors," Brock said, oozing with charm.  "The only people who survived that storm, that we've seen at least, were in the teen club tower.  It seems the structure protected us while the rest of the ship was destroyed.
   "The boys and I have constructed this place to shelter us.  You are more than welcome to stay here.  The boys are staying in the small tepees you passed on the way here."
   He looked Leslie up and down.
   "You can stay with me tonight," Brock said to the trembling ingenue.  "I could really use some female company."
   Zach puffed his chest out, placing himself between Brock and Leslie.
   "I don't think she wants to do that."
   "I don't remember offering that as a choice," Brock sneered.  A dark pall came over his face as he stood toe-to-toe with Zach.
   As Leslie backed away toward the door, the guards grabbed her.
   "What's wrong, Leslie?  Do you think you're too good for us," Brock oozed.
   "Let go of me!"
   One of the guards put a hand over her mouth, whispering for her to relax as she struggled to get away.
   Zach pushed Brock away, then charged toward the guards.
   "One step closer and we kill her, right here."
   One of the guards kissed her cheek, sneering arrogantly at Zach.
   "Hey, I know you're all eager to get to know Leslie," Zach said, "but I found her first.  I'm willing to share her, after tonight."
   Leslie looked at Zach with total surprise.
   "All I'm asking for is tonight.  If I hadn't saved her, she wouldn't even be here."
   After a moment, Brock reluctantly nodded, and the guards released Leslie.
   "You can sleep in the mud hut, but after tonight, she's mine," Brock sneered.
   Leslie sighed with relief, and took Zach's hand as they slowly walked toward the door.
   "One more thing," Brock said.
   The two froze, nervously awaiting Zach's next words.
   "We want a show.  You have to keep the doors and windows open so we can see everything that's going on.  There isn't any porn out here, and my guys are getting a little stir-crazy."
   Leslie and Zach exchanged looks of apprehension, but he knew there would be no way around it.  Leslie, nodded, then lowered her eyes.
   "It's a deal," Zach said.
   The guards showed them to the hut, and they eagerly sat down on the first comfortable sofa they had seen since the ship capsized.
   "Leslie," Zach said with sincerity in his eyes. "I know this isn't exactly what you would have wanted, but I promise I'll take care of you.  I won't let them hurt you."
   The boys started gathering outside.  Zach looked out and counted, there were about 12 of them, all armed and lecherous.  He had no hope of fighting them.  He and Leslie would have to escape after the rest of the camp was asleep.
   "I've never done this," she whispered.
   "It's OK, I haven't either."
   He smiled shyly, then gently pulled Leslie in for a kiss.  She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his.  The vulgar audience cheered, then started yelling explicit instructions, which Zach completely ignored.
   "Just focus on me.  I'll get us out of here tonight," Zach whispered.  "In the meantime, I'll try not to hurt you."
   Leslie nodded, then slowly took off her clothes.  More cheers.  She kept her eyes on Zach, who disrobed quickly, then held Leslie close.  He kissed her passionately and lowered her down to the couch, ignoring the crude onlookers.  For now, nothing else in the world existed.  It was just Zach and Leslie; everything else fell away.
   Zach tried as much as he could to keep his promise to be gentle as he made love to her.  It was over entirely too soon.
   Zach spooned Leslie, whispering his plans of escape as he kissed her neck.  "I know this is scary, but I promise I'll get us out of here."
   Leslie nodded.
   Her quiet sobs eventually gave way to slumber.  Zach stayed awake, strategizing a way to get out.  A different set of guards watched the camp by night.
   Zach crept up behind one guard as the other walked the perimeter.  He threw him to the ground, grabbed a huge rock and bashed the guard's head in, blood spattering in all directions.
   The other guard was making his way back.  Zach hid behind a tree, holding the rock with both hands.  The guard saw the feet of his friend lying supine on the ground.
   "Hey, wake up!"
   The guard moved closer to his friend, trying to wake him.  It wasn't long before he saw what remained of the head.  Zach prepared to deliver the same fate met by the other guard.
   What Zach didn't bargain for was a fallen tree branch lying in the darkness, waiting to be tripped over.  Which he did.
   Zach fell head first toward the ground, hitting his head on the rock.  He blacked out.
   He opened his eyes to see the boys gathered around Leslie.  She was naked and tied to a tree, muffled sobs barely escaping her gagged mouth.  Tears streamed down her face as her eyes met Zach, silently begging him for help.
   He struggled against the cords that bound his hands and feet.  He, too, was gagged.  The boys noticed him squirming, and started mocking him.  He watched in helpless despair as Brock approached Leslie and pinched her nipples, licking her face as he looked at Zach with perverse glee.
   Suddenly, an explosive blast pierced through the camp.  Brock stood in front of Leslie, protecting his new toy.  Zach looked up to see the tree Leslie was tied to was knocked down, as Brock lay a in bloody mess.
   Zach looked up to see a man with a huge shotgun -- wait, that couldn't be a man, he thought; pieces of flesh were peeled back to reveal a metal skeleton.  The boys ran toward the intruder in vain attempts to stop him.  Spears that pierced his skin halted as they hit the metal beneath.  The intruder staked the offending camp members.  Another boy ran at him with a knife.  The robot reached through the boy's chest and pulled out his still-beating heart, seconds before his lifeless body collapsed.
   Zach closed his eyes and prepared himself for his own certain death.
   A tap on his shoulder caused him to jolt and turn around.  It was Leslie, wearing Brock's jacket over her otherwise naked body.  She cut through the rope, freeing him.
   "Come on, Zach," she whispered.  "Let's GO!"
  "Did they hurt you," Zach whispered.
   "No, but they were about to," she replied.
   He took her hand and they ran as fast as they could, away from the living nightmares.
   They crashed right into another robot disguised as a human.  It stood unfazed as Zach and Leslie both stumbled back, falling to the ground.  He extended his hands to help them up.
   "Come with me if you want to live."
   The good robot lifted his gun toward the killer robot and fired.  The other robot was knocked off his feet, artificial flesh melting off metal skeleton.  The good robot took them to a mountain with a very narrow pathway to the top, and a clear view of any intruders.  A large boulder provided a hiding place, should the need arise.
   That night they set up camp.  The good robot explained everything.  It and the other robot are called "Terminators," created by a company in the future called "Skynet."  Terminators are used to enslave mankind as artificial intelligence takes over the planet.
   What everyone thought was a storm was actually a rupture in the fabric of space and time, caused by the other Terminator, a "Z" series model.  Its mission was to kill Zach and Leslie, because their child would grow up to lead mankind's revolution against the machines, and be the savior of all humanity.
   The good Terminator, a "T-800" model, followed the Z series in the same rift, so as to not draw attention.  It told had scanned Leslie's body and determined she had already been impregnated.
   The T-800 would build a boat to get Zach and Leslie to safety the next day, and he assured the two he would keep guard overnight.
   Zach and Leslie kissed, and made love for the second time before they fell asleep in each other's arms.
   The next morning, they woke up to the sounds of the T-800 assembling a boat on the beach below.  They couldn't wait to get back to civilization and away from the nightmares.  It wasn't long before the boat was finished.
   Before they left the island, Leslie needed to use the bathroom.
   "I'll go with you," Zach said.  He didn't want to risk her and the baby getting hurt.
   As they returned to the boat and the T-800, they could tell something wasn't right.  They emerged from the foliage to see a few dead bodies strewn around on the beach, and the T-800's head severed from his body.  Apparently, there were other survivors from last night's attack.
   The daytime guards and two other boys surrounded Zach and Leslie.
   "You thought you were going to leave us, didn't you?"  The redheaded guard sneered.
   The other boys were circling Leslie like hyenas with a weak gazelle.
   A bullet pierced the redhead's skull.  He fell to the ground.
   The T-800's body was still moving, and still determined to carry out its mission to protect Zach and Leslie.  Just then, the Z model emerged, ready to collect his bounty.
   Zach punched one of the boys encircling Leslie as the others stood in confusion and shock.  He took her by the hand, and they ran back to the mountain, leaving behind a cacophony of terrified screams.
   They held each other, trembling and crying at the mountain top.
   "I promised I would get us out of here, and I will do everything I can to uphold that promise, Leslie," Zach assured as he stroked her hair.  "I love you, Leslie."
   "I love you too, Zach," Leslie said, then kissed him, holding on for dear life.
   Their intimate moment was over just as soon as it began.  Zach could sense something coming.
   He motioned for Leslie to crouch down as he looked over the edge.  The Z model's hands had morphed into hooks, and he was climbing up the side of the mountain.  Zach moved to the other side of the boulder, using all his adrenaline-fueled strength to protect his new family.
   He pushed it off the side, and watched it knock the Z model off the mountain, then crush it on the ground below.  Zach looked at Leslie with relief.  He couldn't believe it was over.  Now, they could finally leave.
   Leslie's eyes fixed on his with equal parts love and eagerness for the life they would share.  Her expression quickly changed to complete terror.  Zach opened his mouth, about to ask what it was, before he felt a presence behind him.
   It was the Terminator.  It had liquefied itself on the way down, and survived being flattened by the boulder.  Leslie screamed in horror as its hand morphed into an icepick and ran through Zach's chest.
   Leslie pulled something out of her pocket the T-800 gave to her the night before.
   "Your priority is to protect the child growing inside you," it had told her.  "The fate of mankind is in your hands."
   Leslie's hands shook as she realized what the token was.  The polyurethane-encased red button on the top was a detonator.
   She looked at Zach, who was fighting for his life.  The killing machine had him in its grip, and would soon take Leslie's life and that of her child, if she didn't act fast.
   Looking into the eyes of her first love, Leslie whispered, "I love you, Zach.  I'll never forget you."
   Zach understood.  A tear ran down his cheek as he silently said goodbye.
   Leslie pushed the button, shoved the device into Zach's mouth and pushed him and the Terminator off the cliff.  The mountain shook as he and the Terminator exploded in mid-air.  Leslie dodged the flaming projectile that flew toward her head.
   Fire spread quickly through the trees, too quickly for her to stop it.  It would be a matter of time before the entire island was engulfed.  She climbed down the mountain to see what remained of the boat.  Miraculously, it was intact.
   Rowing away from the island inferno, Leslie knew this was just the beginning of a war that was soon to come.

The Things They Forgot to Mention in Puberty Class

   This week's Flash Fiction Challenge was to write a 2,000-word story based on another writer's sentence.  There were a lot to choose from, but ultimately, I chose one from mannixk that sparked my interest the most.  WARNING:  Potential triggers.  Also, some parts may even make your eyes bleed -- I made full use of this English-to-text-lingo translator for realism.

The Things They Forgot to Mention in Puberty Class

   On the morning of her thirteenth birthday, the whites of her eyes turned inky black.  She sat in her bed, looking around her hot-pink bedroom walls.
   Suddenly, in a very weird way, it had become abundantly clear to Jessica that her childhood had ended.
   Under the puffy, multicolored floral comforter that brightened up her sunny room, she felt something ... wet!  
   She threw her snuggly, giant-sized Tigger across the room and jerked the covers off of herself.
   Her bright orange bedsheets were soaked with fresh blood.  ... And so were her Spongebob Squarepants pajama shorts.  ... And her favorite white panties with purple polka dots.  ... As well as her inner thighs -- her perfect inner thighs!
   They were all ruined!  It was so freakin' gross!
   She was most upset about her blood-smeared thighs.  She had worked so freakin' hard to achieve that thigh gap that came so easily to all the other girls.  She only kept down one meal a week, and it had to be no more than 200 calories.  No cute guy would ever want anything to do with her if she had nasty, cottage cheese thighs.
   And to see all her hard work covered in menses was like seeing a dog take a piss on an artist's masterpiece.  She felt so dirty.  She had to become clean again.
   Jessica jumped out of bed and, ripping all of her disgusting clothes off, she quickly ran to the shower to cleanse herself of the nastiness that had practically gushed out of her body the night before.
   She scrubbed herself vigorously, as usual, putting extra effort this time on her thighs.  She had to make sure every bit of the menstrual fluid was off of her.
   Her family wasn't there; they went on a camping trip without her.  She had been fighting with them a lot the week before.
   Jessica sank to the shower floor and cried as she thought about how her bitchy step-mother, Jackie, told her they were leaving her behind because no one in the family wanted to be around her.  On her fucking birthday weekend!  Jackie cancelled the party she'd been planning for weeks, and told her they'd all go out to celebrate the next weekend, but only if Jessica could behave herself that following week.  Her dad felt bad for her, and gave her his credit card so she could treat herself.
   She closed her eyes as the warm water poured over her alabaster skin, drenching her raven black hair.  Meanwhile, the same dark magic that obscured the whites of her eyes had progressed, changing her irises from hazel green to jet black, unbeknownst to their owner.  Jessica just sat for a minute, hugging her knees tight to her chest to stop her stomach from growling.
   I can't eat today, she thought.  I have to be strong.  It wouldn't be time to eat for at least three more days.
   Jessica stepped out of the shower and toweled off.  Thankfully, her mother had plenty of tampons, and she learned in Puberty Class how to use them.  She remembered back to the illustrations and teacher's instructions:  Relax.  Squat.  Insert slowly.
   Still, it hurt a little going in.  She took a deep breath and pushed it in the rest of the way.  She hated the way it felt: this scratchy cylinder of absorbent fibers, so alien in her body.
   She wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror to get a good look at herself.  Her eyes looked really different.  She leaned in closer to get a better look.  They were entirely black.  It was actually ... cool!    I don't know how or what the fuck happened, but this looks really hot, she thought.   She smiled at herself, thinking about how much the other girls in school would envy her.  Suddenly, her stomach growled loudly in an annoying disruption to her self admiration.
   To get her mind off of eating, she decided to clean and redecorate her room.  It was time to leave all that little girl shit behind.  She had been meaning to do this for a long time, and she wasn't going to put it off any longer.
   She grabbed the biggest garbage bag she could find, then threw her bloodstained comforter, sheets, and clothes away.  She grabbed everything else that made it look like a little kid's room.  The butterfly decals on the wall, the flower-shaped rug, the Care Bear collection on the shelves.  Everything had to go.
   She texted Serena, her bestie -- who happened to be South Dakota's minimum driving age at 14 1/2, and have the ultimate teenage bragging rights with her very own Cadillac Escalade.
   "hA bitch, got NE plans 2day?"
   "Not unLS U count masturbating vigorously 2 pix of Ryan Gosling."
   "SRSLY?!?  U filthy whore!!!"
   "U jst don't undRstNd our luv, cuz you're jst a nasty butt slut!"
   "LOL!  feck u!  cum over alredi!  I wnt 2 go shopping!"
   "k.  b rght ther."
   Jessica finished getting ready, applying her eyeliner extra thick with a wing at the tip to accentuate her new look.  She admired herself in the full-length mirror, nodding approvingly at how her super tiny dress accentuated her super tiny waist.  She especially loved the way her eyes looked, and hoped Lance would notice.
   The doorbell rang, interrupting her train of thought.  Jessica let Serena in, and showed her the new look.
   "Your eyes are all black!  Are those contacts?"
   "Nope.  I woke up like this."
   "Seriously?!?"
   "Seriously."
   "Bitchin!"
   "So, I just got my first period today.  How's that for a birthday present?"
   "Congrats, you're finally blossoming into a young lady!"
   Jessica threw a decorative pillow at Serena.
   "Fuck off!  You sound just like that Puberty Class teacher!"
   They headed off to the mall to shop for new clothes, and some new digs for Jessica's room.  And, just as predicted, Lance was there.
   He was always exactly wherever she was, like clockwork, every weekend.  And at school, he and his friends spent their free time following Jessica and her friends around.  They watched her every move, and whenever she looked back, they made no attempt to look like they were doing anything else.  Lance never really talked to her; he just leered at her from across the room.
   (To most girls, this would be either really annoying, or creepy, or both.  But Jessica, a textbook narcissist, took this as the ultimate compliment.  It was like she had a fan club, and he was the president.)
   After the desired decorations for her room were acquired, and visits to the requisite tweenage specialty stores were made, Jessica made a point to walk right past Lance and his friends, just to taunt them.  She pretended not to notice them, while fully aware of their gawking eyes.
   Normally, she and Serena would keep walking, then laugh at the dorks once they were out of earshot.  But today was different.  Very different.
   She stopped suddenly, then turned to face him and, with a smile, greeted him for the first time in his life.
   "Hey, don't we have Chem class together?"
   Lance stood for a moment like a deer in headlights.  He gathered himself enough to muster a logical answer to the goddess' question.  He wasn't sure why, but she somehow looked even more beautiful than normal.
   "Yes.  I sit behind you."
   Jessica smiled.  If Picasso had a brilliant gift for painting, she had the same level of brilliance in wrapping barely pubescent boys around her little finger.
   "Serena and I are celebrating my birthday today, because my family's out of town.  I have the house to myself.  All weekend."
   She lingered on the last two words just a little, to make sure Lance got the point.
   "Well, ummm, I don't have any plans for the rest of the day."
   His friends echoed the sentiment, responding in a chorus of teenage awkwardness.
   She exchanged numbers with Lance, looked him in the eye and said, "I'll see you at 5!  You can bring your friends, if you want!"
   Lance looked as if he had just won the lottery.  His excitement betrayed all efforts to look cool for the goddess and her friend.  He would gladly become her acolyte, even if it was only for one night.
  When the got back to her house, Jessica and Serena spent the next few hours painting and redecorating the bedroom.
   Later that night, Lance and his friends arrived.  Jessica ordered pizza (which she herself would not touch), and Serena's had snuck a few liquor bottles from her parents' house.
   They all talked excitedly, and Lance caught Jessica eyeing him hungrily.  She walked toward him, eyes focused solely on his.  Lance felt the bulge in his pants growing, and lowered his plate in attempt to conceal it.
   Jessica grabbed the plate and threw it in the trash in one fowl swoop, eagerly viewing his appreciation of her beauty.  She took his hand and led him to her bedroom, walking at a fast pace past all his gawking friends.
   She pulled him inside, then slammed the door shut.  Taking off her shirt, she revealed two perky breasts, nicely framed by her Victoria's Secret push-up bra, a vision of hot pink satin with scalloped black lace edges and a demure bow in the center.  Her matching thong was just a makeout session away from revealing itself.
   Lance stood nervously, staring at her chest as if it was a profound puzzle to be solved.  Jessica smiled and moved in closer, taking his hands and putting them on her hips.  Exhaling, he wrapped his arms around her and began to kiss her, running his hands up and down her back.
   Suddenly, he stopped, and backed away.
   "What's wrong, Lance?  Are you a virgin?"
   Lance stammered.  "Uh ... n-n-no!"
   Jessica grew impatient.
   "Then what the fuck?"
   "Uh, Jessica?  ...  Look at your back in the mirror."
   Jessica turned on the light, backed up to the dresser mirror, and gasped.  Her back looked like something was growing out of it.  She had no fucking clue what it was, but she would do something about it later.
   "I don't know what that is, but let's not worry about that right now."
   "Are you crazy?"
   Jessica shook her head, and to get things back on track, took off her bra.  That was enough to drive Lance -- or any boy for that matter -- to distraction.
   He started to say something, but his hormones intervened and his hands found their way to her breasts.  He started kissing Jessica again, and she pulled him close, pressing her body against his.
   Hunger pangs started up again as she felt her pulse quicken in time with his.  But this time, it wasn't food Jessica was hungry for.
   With a quick motion, she grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back.  The hunger inside her began to satisfy itself.  Lance's weak attempt to call for help came out in a silent scream as his soul was ripped away from his body.  Like a discarded locust shell, there was nothing left of him but an empty, lifeless frame.
   Jessica released her hold and let him fall to the floor like a rag doll.  She tilted her head in curiosity at what remained of her most ardent admirer.
   This strange force inside her that had been awakened by her pubescent changes was fueled and strengthened, and ready to complete the transformation.  Her canine teeth were pushed out by fangs that begged for flesh to tear into.  The raised skin on her back started to break as black feathered wings slowly fanned out to full extension.
   Jessica turned to face herself in the mirror and immediately liked what she saw.  She touched the fangs, feeling their sharp edges nearly pierce her fingers.  She turned to the side, posing, admiring the way her wings accentuated her long legs.
   The hunger pangs still lingered, growing increasingly strong and intense.
   Flipping her perfectly straight black hair, Jessica headed back out to join the party, eager to be worshipped by the poor souls whom she would soon devour.
 
 
 

Wasp-zilla

This week, Chuck Wendig wanted us to post a picture (but write about one we didn't post).  I hope this one inspires at least one freaky nature-gone-berzerk story.  My childhood was filled with sci-fi stories that were inspired by Hitchcock's "The Birds" -- spiders, ants, lemurs, and pretty much anything that could come in contact with radioactive materials and mutate into a giant threat to humanity.  Please write something based on this that will fuel my nightmares.