Napoleon: A Horror Novel

Fiction & Literature, Horror, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction
Cover of the book Napoleon: A Horror Novel by Wayne Kyle Spitzer, Wayne Kyle Spitzer
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Author: Wayne Kyle Spitzer ISBN: 9780463926437
Publisher: Wayne Kyle Spitzer Publication: October 19, 2018
Imprint: Smashwords Edition Language: English
Author: Wayne Kyle Spitzer
ISBN: 9780463926437
Publisher: Wayne Kyle Spitzer
Publication: October 19, 2018
Imprint: Smashwords Edition
Language: English

The steel mesh started to break: first one joint, then another. Napoleon stood sideways on the fence like a parrot, his splayed toes gripping the bars. He braced himself with his legs and pulled at the grid with his teeth. The muscles of his neck rippled; his growl was a steady trill. Metal squealed as he peeled a section back.

Lightning flashed nearby, followed by a crack-kaboom! In the wash of light, the man saw the dinosaur looking at him. Glaring at him. Its color had gone blood red.

He dropped the shock prod and swallowed, tasting bile. His head was swimming; he felt nauseated. The game had gone far enough. He had to end it—had to end it now. He stepped back over to the control box and flipped it open, sought out the RUN ELECTRIFICATION button. He punched it with the bottom of his fist.

The air seemed to vibrate, and sparks exploded beneath Napoleon's hands and feet. The dinosaur was knocked off the fence instantly. It crashed into the mud with a tremendous splash and writhed violently. Then it struggled to its feet and latched onto the fence again. Sparks popped and spit; there was the smell of burnt flesh. Napoleon backed off, cocking his head. His fore-claws opened and closed. He sniffed at the electrically charged air, and at the ground. His left foot was smoking. He didn't approach the fence again.

The man stepped closer and peered through the mesh. “You’re learning, aren't you?” He scooped up the shock prod from the mud and wiped it on his lab coat. “You’re learning not to mess with me, aren't you?”

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The steel mesh started to break: first one joint, then another. Napoleon stood sideways on the fence like a parrot, his splayed toes gripping the bars. He braced himself with his legs and pulled at the grid with his teeth. The muscles of his neck rippled; his growl was a steady trill. Metal squealed as he peeled a section back.

Lightning flashed nearby, followed by a crack-kaboom! In the wash of light, the man saw the dinosaur looking at him. Glaring at him. Its color had gone blood red.

He dropped the shock prod and swallowed, tasting bile. His head was swimming; he felt nauseated. The game had gone far enough. He had to end it—had to end it now. He stepped back over to the control box and flipped it open, sought out the RUN ELECTRIFICATION button. He punched it with the bottom of his fist.

The air seemed to vibrate, and sparks exploded beneath Napoleon's hands and feet. The dinosaur was knocked off the fence instantly. It crashed into the mud with a tremendous splash and writhed violently. Then it struggled to its feet and latched onto the fence again. Sparks popped and spit; there was the smell of burnt flesh. Napoleon backed off, cocking his head. His fore-claws opened and closed. He sniffed at the electrically charged air, and at the ground. His left foot was smoking. He didn't approach the fence again.

The man stepped closer and peered through the mesh. “You’re learning, aren't you?” He scooped up the shock prod from the mud and wiped it on his lab coat. “You’re learning not to mess with me, aren't you?”

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