Moskiitot – Lyhäri englanniksi / Mosquitos – Short Story in English

Lyhyesti Suomeksi: Moskiitot on tarina, jota kirjoitamme yhdessä ystäväni kanssa. Alkuperäinen idea on hänen. Se on kunnianosoitus mahtavalle Arnold Schwarzeneggerille ja ensimmäinen osa höntsäilemäämme “Kusipää kometaja” -sarjaa, kirjoittamista ihan vain hauskanpidon nimissä.

Preface: Mosquitos is a story we wrote together with my friend. Original story is by him. It’s a tribute to the great Arnold Schwarzenegger, and the first part of our story “Asshole Commander”, a series that we are writing just for fun.

He tastes blood in his mouth. Probably his own, but in the end, he can’t be sure. Bodycount is getting higher. The aliens in their advanced combat suits are blowing up into green goo mixed with the red thick blood of his own soldiers. But his mind is on his mission, nothing to do with honor or winning or not even getting out of here alive. He just doesn’t care, not for the humankind, nor the planet. It’s the prize he is after selfish and eager, and as an asshole, like he is, with a pure conscience.

he is proceeding with poised steps. More aliens and men are staying down than getting up until there is no one standing but him. He steps over the corpses, the useless bodies of the meager men who thought they would fight for the greater good and followed their commander to a very well paid, but a total suicide mission, no questions asked. The fools. Like he would ever give a fuck.

The only thing on his mind is the alien artifact. The one he has been searching for. The one that the veterans have been whispering for so long his ears have started to ring and whisper a different kind of story to his mind. If he finds it he can have whatever he wishes for. And he wishes from the bottom of his selfish dark mind to be the one who gets to hold the artifact. Gets to have the one and only desire that the artifact will ever grant.

he leaves his men behind without any feelings and steps in the alien ship. The bridge is full of white light and high technology but he ignores it all. he has eyes only for the artifact. It glows in the middle of the bridge calling him like a siren. Speaking him with the language only he can understand. Before he touches the artifact he closes his eyes. Maybe its the taste of the blood, the smell of the battle or just his selfish mind, but he dreams about killing the creatures he hates the most, sucking shit fuck mosquitos making his life intolerable with their whimper and bloodthirst. When he finally touches the artifact he is already killing mosquitos in his head. He enters an empty warehouse with heavy arsenal and unlimited ammo blasting away mosquitos left and right and killing thousands with one shot. Happily walking through the warehouse shooting and killing.

As his finger meet the artifact he feels a sharp shock. He flies across the bridge and hits his head when landing on the floor and his eyes shut. the last thing he sees is the artifact blinking like a beacon before it depletes.

When he wakes up he sees the warehouse. It looks like the one he imagined but bigger. much bigger. Next, to him, there is a crate full of guns and ammo. He smirks and starts to choose what to take. He’s like a kid in a candy store picking up a minigun, hand cannon, and heavy shotgun. Hanging bandoliers over his shoulders. Finally, after all the battles he has led and survived with his independent organization this feels finally a reward, mindless killing spree where he wouldn’t have to save anybody or anything. Fuck people, this was the real deal. Just for fun.

When he feels he is fully armed, he steps to the door and smiles like a maniac. He is ready.

He kicks the door in, reflects the warehouse with a fast gaze, mosquitos everywhere, and starts blasting. The burnt smell from the weapons, the overwhelmed sound of the flying insects, the feel of killing, it’s almost too good to tolerate, it almost gets him off. He enters the warehouse shooting left and right, killing those bloodthirsty monsters like a soldier he should have always been, mean clean killer machine. It’s like a kickass dream and he’s living it.

but it won’t take long before the empowering godlike killing turns into panic. There are just too many of them. He gets swarmed by thousands and thousands of mosquitos that slowly sucks him dry. Every mosquito takes its turn sticking its needle-sharp stinger through his skin and sucking a small amount of his blood. But that happening ten thousand, even hundred thousand times makes him feel pale and dizzy. He’s about to die. He knows it, feels it in every inch of his pitch-dark soul. He makes ease with it. He’s ready to take his final breath… and then he sees it, a big bastard mosquito with a military hat ordering mosquitos to attack. He stares at the leader mosquito and suddenly he feels happy. With all his final strength he loads his final round in his shotgun looks at the big mosquito and pulls the trigger. His shot blows the leader mosquito into pieces. That’s the final thing he sees, before he falls down dead and dry, a blissful smile on his lips.

Kirjotusharjoitukset, mun bestikset / Writing Prompts Are a Writer’s Best Friend

In English below

Diagnoosi: Tyhjän paperin kammo, kirjoitusjumi, ideoiden puute, kyvyttömyys istua perseelleen ja kirjoittaa

Lääke: Pienet sadan sanan kirjoitusharjoitukset

Lopputulos: Tekstiä paperilla

Ei lisättävää. Paitsi sen verran, että itse teen kirjoitusharjoituksia eli englanniksi prompteja hyvässä seurassa pikaviestipalvelun ryhmäkeskustelussa. Se on minulle mielekkäin tapa toimia, sillä silloin prompteista tulee yllättäviä ja vertaistuki ja palaute on taattua. Prompteja voi googlata myös verkosta tai sitten voi napata appikaupasta valmiin päivittäisiä harjoituksia tarjoavan sovelluksen. Lupaan arvioida prompt-sovelluksia myös blogissa myöhemmin.

Kirjoitan prompteja lähinnä englanniksi, koska prompt-ryhmämme on kasainvälinen. Englanninkielisen käännöksen alta löydät yhden tekstin, jonka kirjoitin tehtävänannolla: ”I’m never going back”.

In English

Diagnosis: Fear of empty paper, writer’s block, lack of ideas, inability to sit down and write

Medication: Writing Prompts

Outcome: Text on paper

Nothing to add. Except that I write prompts in English in an international writer’s group in Kik messenger. For me it’s the best way to do prompts, because then I can have unexpected assignments, some peer support and instant feedback. Prompts can also be found on the internet. There is also apps that give you a new writing prompt daily. I am going to review some of those apps on my blog later.

The following text is a written from a Prompt that goes “I’m never going back”.

I’m never going back

(a Writing Prompt)
(noin sadan sanan kirjoitusharjoitus englanniksi)

I’ve never been such a fan for the linear. Time hasn’t scared me much. But if you do what I do for living, you might start to wonder if it is ever a good idea to glance behind your shoulders. They might say it is inevitable. They might say it is justified. They might think I am a hero. But I’m not. I’m nothing but a nemesis. Just a shadow who feeds from the souls of the doomed. I’m the hell hound and once I have fetched my first one, I know I’m never going back.