Solomon had never felt more relaxed in his entire life. Undisturbed sleep. He had been floating in lovely warm water, not too far from the golden sandy beach. Soft music from the metal drums flowed with the breeze to his submerged ears as he lay on his back in the sun, the waves lapping lovingly at his floating form. He could hear the children gleefully play, laughter spread like wild fire on the beach. There was always laughter here. Always smiles. Never any worries. A fat sunburnt man in a yellow vest and karki shorts sat wide legged on the sand, a large steaming hot dog in one hand, and a cold iced black drink in the other.
After just over a week of lazing in paradise, drinking extravagant cocktails, complete with little umbrellas. He lazed in the sand, the water and sometimes the bars. He had spent many nights, mornings and the time in between drunk and happy! But now, now Solomon's head began to ache. "One week of drinking... and the hangover finally kicks in..." said Solomon rubbing his suddenly tired eyes. His eyes had become red and bloodshot, swollen and heavy. The golden sand began forming dust clouds as a strong wind swept through the once paradise shore line. The sun sank through the sky, below the clouds and then it was devoured by the horizon as if the Gods had prematurely pushed the golden globe down, the temperature plummeted. Solomon, in his shorts and pink flowery open shirt, soon felt the freezing hand of winter, with a shiver, he stopped his floating and ran out of the waist high water to the sand clouds, hoping to find the towel he had left somewhere in the moving sand.
"Bingo!" said Solomon relieved as he spotted his blue towel in the dark yellow sand, quickly running to the woolly warm towel to dry himself and regain some body heat. It was when he wrapped it around his shoulders he heard the noise that sent chills through his very soul. A noise with a colder, ice touch than the hand of winter. A noise he had heard not too long ago.
That wet hissing sound.
Solomon dared a sideways look in the direction of the water and saw them. Three tall, slender, shadowed figures, with glowing blue eyes, staring straight at him, the long sharp claws hanging limply by their sides.
The three just stood there, staring at him. Hissing. Solomon dared to stand full height facing them, only their eyes followed him. Taking slow steps backwards, never taking his eyes from theirs, making his way towards the bars and shops that surely still had the people, tending to the needs of their customers that seemed to have fled the weather of the beach. He was ten meters from the water barrier, main promenade, shops and bars before he noticed further problems. Nobody was to be seen, not even the stray black dog that Solomon sometimes fed his chicken burrito to. Solomon began to feel the hairs stand up on the back of his neck when he heard the water breaking as they three creatures began their advance. Slowly, their slender tall bodies staggered up the cold beach. Solomon made a break for it. Turning on his heels and running as fast as his legs would allow in the soft sand as they sank with every hit, Solomon didn't even make five strides before he felt a sharp claw clip the back of his left ankle, slicing it open. Falling in agony Solomon turned, frantically reaching for something, anything. He would even be thankful for a beach ball right now to try and defend himself with! Kicking sand at the three Banshees as they advanced slow once more. Fear held his soul in its grasp. No weapon, no armour, no escape.
"Solomon." came a soft female voice.
"You're strong, you can pull through this" it came again.
Solomon felt his brow dampen, sweat began to bead around his forehead. 'this is it' he thought to himself sorrowfully. "This is how I end?..." he asked the creatures with a sob who simply returned a hiss and bared teeth in response. Advancing closer, the cold hand of death was fast approaching for Solomon, he knew he had to think fast, faster than usual, but his mind was slosh, sodden with mud! He cursed his helplessness extensively. The thinnest Banshee crept within arms reach, its foul breath wreaked of fish, long passed their rotting date. The smell made him wince away from the wet leathery creature that was inching closer and closer. The Banshee was upon him. Slowly lifting its clawed talons, Solomon was paralysed with a fear that was unknown to him previously. The Banshee lowered its gleaming talons softly on to Solomon's heaving chest almost with care, his breath quickening as the Banshee's shining stinking smile widened showing more razor teeth, it's thin lips slowly moving, trying to form a word.
"...Clear..." it hissed. Solomon looked questioningly at the slimy monster.
"Clear!" it called out in an almost human voice before forcing its talons an inch into Solomon's chest. Screaming out in pain, mostly still paralysed, Solomon was helpless, the Monster began drooling a thick gunk as it enjoyed the blood squirting from the fresh wounds it inflicted upon Solomon. "Clear!" it called again, louder and impaled Solomon again, however this time, it was not the sharp claws cuttings into his muscle and bone he felt, but an electrical pulse, taking over his entire body causing his muscles to tense up and cease to move, his mind felt lazier, his unfocused eyes looked at the monstrous killing machine looking over his helpless body when it fazed out from the deathly pale blue to a white figure wearing a hospital face mask, he could have swore he saw kind eyes looking at him through the white mouth mask before they turned back to the pale killing machine mouthing the same word, over and over again. "Clear" it came again and Solomon was hit even harder with the electrical torture and the masked man with kind eyes returned to replace the creature again, more clearly this time before it became unfocused again. He leaned away from Solomon and began rubbing two small metal hand panels together before holding them out as a floating arm holding a large white tube in it's gloved hand, squirting a gel upon the panels and the masked figure rubbed them together again. "Clear!" he called and zapped Solomon in the chest once more.
The drowning beach and strong winds faded, the flying sand didn't bother Solomon any more, the Creatures had vanished and had been replaced by the kind eyed man. The beach had melted away and revealed a white room, Solomon was flanked by multiple white figures. The kind eyed man was muttering things to Solomon holding up the metal shock panels. He was back.