The Worm
By Ben Strange, age 10

I would like to tell this story of what happened to me before I die. There are only a few others who have shared my experience, but most of them are dead now. You won't believe this - I know I wouldn't if you told me - but I can think of nothing better to do in the short time I live.

* * * * *

I pushed and shoved my way through the crowd to catch a glimpse of what had landed. I finally got to the front and looked, puzzled, at what I saw. A long, deep trench had been dug in the sand of the beach I was on, at the end of which was a small metal casket of about one metre in diameter. Even as I watched, there was a loud hiss, and a door on the pod slowly retracted to the side. There was loud gasp from the hustle of people, followed by shocked silence, as what looked like a tentacular appendage with pincers on wriggled out of the pod. A spiky, segmented body followed that, and suddenly what I thought was the tentacle squeezed out a round, red, leathery head, with a cavernous maw for of a mouth with at least three sets of teeth. It was the size of a bus and looked identical to a worm, only larger and spikier.

* * * * *

Before I knew it I was sprinting away, not daring to look back at the horror that was the creature. People were shouting inarticulately, governed by a thought, and one thought in particular. That thought was to run. Run until they were far away from the thing, far enough away for it not to hurt them. Some were succeeding (I knew I was), but others were not so lucky. I gathered up the strength to look back, but averted my face almost instantly. I could see a pair of feet sticking out of the mouth of the worm-thing. It had swallowed a human whole. That was all the encouragement I needed to run faster. Suddenly I tripped over a tree root and I was sent sprawling to the ground. I rolled over and shuffled backwards until my back dug into a tree. I had a penknife, but I knew that it couldn't save me against the bulk of that creature. For the first time in my life I had a feeling of utter helplessness, knowing that I was going to die but not being able to do anything about it. It was the worst feeling I've ever had.

* * * * *

I didn't care what happened now, as long as I hurt that thing in any way I could; if it was going to kill me, then I was going to try and take it with me. I drew my penknife from my belt and threw it at the worm, trying to buy enough time as to enable me to escape. It stuck fast in the worm's fat body and it cried out in agony. The image of the feet sticking out of the worm's mouth only doubled my efforts to kill it. I got to my feet and ran to my car. I leaped in and started the engine. No fancy health and safety seatbelts now. Oh, no, I was going to run that thing down to avenge that man. Nothing could stop me now! That worm was going to die! Or maybe it was my engine that would do the dying. I looked at the petrol gauge. It read zero. I screamed and hit the steering wheel as hard as I could. The airbags blew up and surrounded me.

"Damn!" I screamed. I could see out of the windscreen through a slit where the airbag had not got to. The last thing I remember was a large mouth and horrid, glowing eyes filled with hatred. I don't know where the worm is. It might have gone back into the casket and flown away, or it might have stayed here on Earth. All I know is that all I have said is real, and that, as with all strange cases, it was hushed up. I hope that you believe me, because no one else will.