Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 151

This week's picture took a bit of tracking down because the info on many of the postings seem incorrect - well they have the sculptors name right but claim it won an award in 2011. So I contacted the museum that seemed to be quoted with it, and got this info:

The HORNET sculpture is on the facade of the Museum of Humour and Satire in Gabrovo.

It is the work of Gabrovo-based artist GEORGI BALABANOV (b. 1970). The sculpture is made of chrome and nickel, and was installed on 5 August 2013 under the project Gabrovo - New Urban Culture Industry , implemented by Gabrovo Municipality.

As to the year 2011, that year Georgi Balabanov' s work Tale about the Ladder was awarded the Golden Aesop Grand Prix of the 20th International Biennial of Humour and Satire in the Arts held by the Museum of Humour and Satire since 1973.

I haven't been able to get a website address for the artist though, or track them online, which is a shame, but at least we know what it is - and where, if you wish to go and see it.

It's important to me to credit pictures correctly, so I always try my best. It can take many hours at times too, and a lot of clicking and google translating. Sometimes images have been sold to companies to be used as online wallpaper, and then I rarely managed to find the original creator.

This week I've gone back to my horror roots, so a bit gory. Get ready!

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Hornets Nest

Travis sat upright in bed. “What was that?”

His wife mumbled something next to him, but he couldn’t hear over an extremely loud whirring sound coming from outside. It sounded like a chainsaw. Surely, Shonty wasn’t up and about in her workshop at this time of night? He knew she got inspired at odd times, but usually she was considerate of her neighbours during the night.

He swung his legs out of the bed and pushed his feet into slippers, grabbing a large stick he kept under the bed in case of intruders. The noise was such that creeping down the stairs wasn’t necessary. He looked out of the glass panel by the front door and could see sparks shooting out of the wall of his garage.

When he went out to see what was going on, two of his neighbours, Jeb and Frankie, were coming up the street. Jeb had pulled trousers on, but Frankie was only in boxers and boots, a rifle in hand.

“What the bloody hell is it, Travis?”  

“I’m not sure, Jeb.”

They approached the garage.

“You got no light up there?”

“I have, but whatever that thing is, it’s shorted it out. Hang on.”

Travis went back in the house and returned with a torch. He shone it up at where the metallic buzzing was coming from. They could see what looked like the back end of a bug. Its wings were flapping, creating most of the noise, and sparks sprayed out from the head end which was jammed into the brickwork. There was what looked like a stinger on the butt end, and it spun round and round, whirring.

“Is that thing metal?” asked Frankie.

“Looks like,” said Jeb.

“Where in heck has it come from? It looks like a Hornet,” said Travis. “That stinger’s nasty. Is this someone’s project?”

“Shonty, maybe?” Jeb suggested.

They turned to look at her house, but there were no lights on; she was either asleep or not home.   

“I don’t think so. She’d be out here apologising if it was.” Travis poked it with his stick. The buzzing increased but it was stuck fast.

“Should we try to get it out?” Frankie said, pushing it with the butt of his rifle.

“Looks dangerous; I wouldn’t want to see it flying around,” Jeb observed.

“Yeah, definitely dangerous, but we need to shut it up.” Travis hit it harder with his stick, but it did nothing to reduce the sound.

“It’s mechanical, it’s gotta be someone’s toy,” said Frankie. “Jackson knows about these things, he’s all technical. Shall I go knock him up?”

“Maybe. If it wasn’t so darn noisy, I’d leave it ‘til morning,” Travis said.

Frankie walked off in the direction of Jackson’s place, and Travis continued to prod it. Then they heard a scream, so high it made Travis’ toes tingle. He spun the torch round, and they scanned the lawn behind them. Frankie lay sprawled on the grass, a bloody hole right through his chest.

“Shit!” Jeb said. “What the fuck did that?”

“There must be another one.” Travis waved the torch round, cursing that the residence had decided to reduce street lighting in this usually safe neighbourhood. He couldn’t see anything, but was sure the sound of whirring was louder.

Then he heard Jeb yell, and saw another one sliced through his neck with its stinger. Blood gushed out, and Jeb reached for Travis, but he stepped back, letting Jeb fall and held up his stick ready as the bug returned.

He took a swing and hit it on the side. It went off course, but it was heavy and Travis knew that if he didn’t incapacitate it, he’d be its next victim. Two more strikes and he managed to disable it by bending one of its wings. It crash landed by the front door, the buzzing reverberating off the glass. He took a breath, admiring the result of his handiwork, but that was a mistake.

Another one struck him in the back, sending him flying across the driveway and skidding to a halt under the one wedged in the wall. He tried to get up, but it hit him again, slicing him across the back with its stinger as it turned. He yelled out, but it was short lived, as the bug returned again and again, repeating the attack until Travis was flayed open and dying. As consciousness faded he heard his wife call from the house. Too weak to warn her, he knew he’d be seeing her shortly on the other side of death.