A/N:
Hey readers, I've put together a playlist of songs I listened to during the writing process of Lobotomy. I recommend listening while reading along so copy and paste the link below into your browser to listen.
SPOTIFY LINK: user/cbeacham97/playlist/4TMM5id9KB0lENbMUm0c6N?si=Ag_SjzpqSXyIPgQCXePTkg
Chapter 1: A Prologue to Convince You Aliens Exist
The bright white light had Jerry and Angus Zucker startled as they believed they were the only ones on the farm for the weekend. The young men made their way out of bed in a drunken haste, Jerry reaching for his shotgun while Angus seized his baseball bat. The local farm hands had dealt with their fair share of vandals and hoons over the past few years, and they knew just how to scare them away. The light bled through the windows, casting blurred shadows and silhouettes all over the farm house as the boys crept through the kitchen, hoping to catch some young troublemakers in the act.
Angus felt a shiver from his grubby fingertip that ran all the way up to the back of his neck, tickling the locks of hair that were usually intertwined in a rats-tale braid. The shiver caused him to fumble with the bat, making him suddenly nervous about the intruder. "Jerry," Angus whispered, "Jerry something about this doesn't feel right man, maybe we should just call 911."
"Shut up 'Gus!" Jerry hissed through gritted teeth as he flattened himself against the wall between the kitchen window and the front door.
"I'm serious dude I think we should leave this to the cops," Angus wiped the sweat from his brow, knees shaking as he crouched behind the countertop. Jerry merely rolled his eyes at Angus in frustration.
Angus was always the one bailing on the boys when the going got tough, he always stood back and watched the rest of the workers while he looked on, usually with a cold drink or snack in hand; 'supervising' of course. Angus was actually the farm owner's only grandson, however despite the boys sharing the same name they were only related by wedlock. The step-cousins couldn't be more opposite of one another. Jerry was hard working and bold, while Angus could only be described as a weedy sod of a boy. The taller boy was not going to let Angus wimp out on him this time, there was no room in a workplace for disloyalty and weakness.
"Angus get a grip and come help me get a look at where the vandals are," Jerry motioned for Angus to edge closer to the window so he could aid Jerry with lining up a shot with his gun.
The young men both peered through the rustic window, opposite of the farmhouse was a large maintenance shed for the tractors, and beside the shed was several figures. The figures looked like women, they were slim and tall, moving in an elegant manor, it was stereotypically feminine, which was stereotypically unusual for the thieves and vandals who regularly appeared on the weekends. Jerry aimed his shotgun for the shed, if he shot the shed it would usually scare off any intruders from the farm. The tall young man seized his chance and too a shot for the shed. He broke the glass in the window and the bullet shot through the farm shed.
"Jerry what are you doing!" Angus shrieked as Jerry admired his handiwork through the newly made hole in the window pane.
"Mate if we scare them off we can go back to bed and not have to get the police involved at all. The last thing I want is Old Man Zucker coming back from his vacation early because we can't scare off a few scrappy kids." Jerry was fed up with Angus's inadequacy, if he would stop chickening out at every challenging moment and man up he might have actually been left the farm in his grandfather's inheritance, instead it said to be going to Old Man Zucker's great granddaughter who's only 6 months old. Angus mumbled something inaudible before shrinking back into his crouched position against the counter top.
The first shot didn't hinder the female figures a bit, but it did grab their attention. The slim figures made their elegant way towards the farm house. The alienated disposition in which they were moving (like the visual reenactment of a broken record stuck on repeat) was creeping Jerry out a little too much, enough to beg for his step-cousin to help.
"Gus please come have a look at this, shit, they're getting closer, ANGUS!" it was now Jerry's turn to shriek, and his step cousin snapped to attention accordingly.
"Who do you think they are?" Angus whispered as he rushed to Jerry's side against the wall.
"I don't know, I've never seen anything move like that, I don't think they're human," Jerry's voice was barely a murmur, his lips almost frozen in place, a pit growing bigger and bigger in his stomach the closer the figures came. Impulsively Jerry fired another shot, acting on pure adrenaline. The taller cousin immediately regretted his actions when a bloodcurdling shriek emitted from the figure he shot. Suddenly the females began chanting in unison. It was almost mellifluous lullaby, only more hostile, almost as if it was the song of the devil, a song of death. The chanting females were now on the porch, and Jerry lined up another shot from the window, fearing for his life, only the gun has taken a little too long to reload and before he could take his shot the females had burst the door open with a fierce glowing white light, as if Darth Vader had used to force, and if the force looked like white fairy dust.
The chanting became piercing, causing all the glass in the farm house to explode. The young men screamed in fear as their eardrums burst from the noise. Jerry scrambled to the back of the room, aiming the barrel of the shot gun directly at the head of the chanting females, blood rolling from his ears and down the sides of his neck. The white light became blinding, and the chanting literally deafening. Angus, who had resumed his place cowering behind the kitchen counter could see nothing but whiteness, as if this was the place he entered before he dies, like in the movies when the character dying walks into the light. Mustering up all the courage his body could hold he threw himself upright, his pants stained from urinating in fear and his ears bleeding, he lunged forward for his cousin's gun that had been kicked to his side of the room. All the courage he gathered; the only time in his life he actually did anything brave and redeeming, had all gone to waste. The light consumed him too, he was too late. His body was flung to the back of the room with his cousin, limp and lifeless.