Chapter 10
Trilby didn't know what to think. Honestly he was trying not to. As he trudged through the forest- computer under one arm. He was looking for a place to stay, somewhere sheltered but none came to mind. No doubt Jumba had alerted the other experiments and they were probably searching for him at this very moment. As the sun rose to its zenith, his mind began to wonder. Apparently, he was designed by an evil scientist, who had supposedly had been created by another evil scientist for reasons unknown. Then dropped, by accident or not, onto Earth as a dehydrated ball then collected by the second evil scientist's minion, before being retrieved by the first evil scientists family: who weren't really his family but still called them family. Honestly… He didn't understand much nor did he care to. He was alone now, not a creation, a person. He didn't need a power to be special, right? He wasn't sure about the last one but shelter sounded good at the moment. Somewhere secluded. Somewhere he wouldn't draw attention to himself. As he walked he began to hear voices, his instant thought was 'I'm mad' but then he saw the town. People searched angrily as smoke poured from all manner of appliance. Are they looking for me? He thought. Better not wait to find out but then he felt something. A twinge in his stomach. His scrambled memory managed to label it as' hunger'. He had felt it the night he arrived. But where could he get food? Well he knew where. He just didn't know how? He was small but conspicuous, he had no stealth or agility skills to speak of. He walked further along. He noticed a backdoor, that was ajar. It was undoubtedly the back of a shop or restaurant from the row of bins packed full with plastic wrapping, cardboard and all manner of food waste. Depositing the computer in a bush, he snuck, as quietly as he could to the door, his fur prickled in anticipation, ready to alert him to danger at any moment. 'Didn't know it did that' he thought. Then focussed. If people were searching for him, he had to leave a path of escape. As he reached the door he noticed a thin layer of frost on the bins. How did that happen he thought. I won't stay long he thought. He entered a storage room of some- sort. Cardboard boxes, precariously stacked, lined the walls plastered with stickers telling the exact weight and amount. He grabbed a box checking inside, he found it full of cones. He had broken into an ice cream shop. Picking up a cone he experimentally took a bite. Dry, tasteless. He tried to replace the box but since he had opened the box it was unstable. The weight caused the stack to sway. He turned to leave, when the stack toppled crashed to the floor. The stack collided with the boxes on the other wall sending them toppling to the ground. The boxes split sending cones and many coloured containers of ice cream mix all over the floor. The sound was unbearable. Trilby cringed, turning to leave.
In the doorway stood a small blue creature, looking startled. It resembled an icicle, in its hand he clutched a piece of paper. He looked from Trilby to the paper, then from the paper to Trilby. Then he threw the paper to ground in front of him. On it was a picture of him, underneath there read,' spy! Capture on sight.' Be careful he is powerful and very dangerous. Trilby didn't understand that last line, but he didn't have time to think about it. The icicle creature was grinning maliciously at him. He inhaled. Tribly's instincts ran wild. He leapt over the toppled boxes, rolled on impact toward the shop door. The icy creature blew a wave of frost from his mouth. The water particles in the air froze dropping like hail. The debris formed an ice sheet. Trilby collided with the door as a cold blast pushed him through. He looked around, nothing but ice cream, he jumped onto the counter, taking cover behind the till as another icy blast blew from the door. He needed something hot. His fur was excelling at preventing the cold. The front room of the shop was filled with tables and chairs, the counter held countless ice cream scoops. On a table behind the counter, there stood an array of glasses, jugs beakers, a coffee machine and a microwave at the very edge. The icy thing had since come through the door still smiling with uncontrolled mirth. Trilby leapt off the counter tipping a table for cover an sharp icicle had lodged in the table. Rolling to another table he tipped it as well, another icicle lodged itself. He continued to roll, table to table, tipping them as a shield. The icy thing had perched itself atop the counter constantly conjuring icicles hurling mayhem at his shop. Trilby reached the closest table to the microwave. Grabbing a chair he threw it into the ice thing. He froze it midair. Throwing another one and another he distracted him long enough to jump up to the microwave. He hit the highest setting it hummed and spluttered, something had short circuited it. Then it sparked. The sparks! Heat! He started hitting all the buttons. While throwing glasses at the icy thing. It the microwave sparked more and more gaining heat. The ice thing froze all the projectiles, he started inhaling, preparing for another icy blast. Before he did though, a sparking, red microwave came flying at him. He released the breath cooling the microwave. But not enough! it cut through the icy breath like a stone in water. The microwave hit him sending him flying off the counter. Taking the chance Trilby grabbed the coffee machine plugging it in he hit the large latte button on the coffee he inserted a jug. It started filling. He then leapt to the counter the counter and sat arms raised. The icy thing recovered, he leapt to the counter about to release another breath of cold air. He saw the red experiment sitting arms raised. The universal sign for surrender. He stopped the breath.
"I give up, just don't freeze me," he whimpered trying to look scared.
The icy thing looked him in the eye, he wrapped his arms around him. Trilby was confused. He hadn't expected a hug. But then ice formed around his chest. Not packed ice, he seemed to be leaving space within the cube for him. In a minute Trilby was trapped in a large ice cube with only his head not encased. He pushed against the sides of the cube in vain.
"Sorry, have to capture you," The icy thing seemed pretty friendly now he wasn't a threat. "My name is Slushy. You've made a big mess in my shop." There was a big mess tables overturned, glass shattered on the floor icicles lodged in walls and tables.
"Yeah, sorry… I was hungry… I'm Trilby, a new guy."
"It says you're a spy,"
"I am not though…"
"Well we'll find out when the others come to pick you up, I guess,"
"I don't think I'll be here when they arrive,"
"Oh, why?"
"It's a question of weight," and at that moment, the jug that had been filling with premium latte, gaining more and more weight. cascaded steaming coffee all over the pair. Slushy started melting. As did the ice cube. Weakened it broke easily. Slushy saw himself melting, traumatised he fainted conserving his cold body. Quickly Trilby picked up the diminishing Slushy. Leaping off the counter he sprinted to the ice cream freezer. throwing it open. He left Slushy on one of the shelves. On the way out he turned the thermostat from -4 degrees to -20 degrees. Slushy stopped melting, but he was still unconscious. On his way out he picked up the 5 bags of crisps shown on display, they were cold. But he was hungry…