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Maria-Parascheva Miron, 15 years old, is participating in the 6th International Literary Creation Competition, from Nottingham, UK. We are grateful for the participation and wish her success.

      Distorsion

The low hiss from a leaking drain exploded restlessly through the eerie silence. Flat boats hung loosely on the park’s lake. They were made of metal instead of wood, which arose confusion to customers, if there were ever any. The park had been abandoned due to the dubious nocturnal activity that persisted there and deaths that occurred. Whirring caged the silence as small mechanical projections spun on the surface of the boats and dark shadows lurked around the metal surfaces. A flash of light met the scene and flickered slightly before refocusing. Mechanical teeth clamped down harshly over the invisible figures, tearing at the invisible thick flesh, raw blood and feathers merging as one. Bite marks curved through the ground as a putrid transparent fluid poured into the marks. A low growl filled the air and glowing eyes blazed through the darkness. A distant wail escalated into a raw scream. 
The creature had disappeared with the crimson sunrise as people entered the park and viewed the unfolding scene. Near the lake a swan lay, its wings spread out across the ground, a deep congealed slash across its chest, pink guts spilling outwards. Who would be so cruel to break such a gentle creature this way? As the crowd parted, the security guard sighed as this was a common occurrence and held the bird up by its neck and carried it away from the customers that followed his movements with furious and intense gazes. Suddenly, the limp body became light in his hold and the people surrounding him became distorted, their eyes slipping off their faces like sludge through drains. Their molten crimson expressions become a blur of mottled skin and their rindless arms reach outward. A sharp jolt burst through his side. Glancing in the direction of the strike, a dark figure with glowing eyes grinned back at him, its numerous fangs glinting in the sun. Crimson-soaked claws gleamed from the bottom of its thin fingers but strangely it did not attack him, instead it inspected him carefully, wariness high in its alert eyes. The security guard staggered backwards, terror circling his mind and soon realised the creature mirrored his actions. He frowned in confusion and reached for his pocket where he had left his gun. As he searched the pocket a thick fluid licked at his hand as he gripped the cold surface of the gun. A dark shadow steadied the movements of his hand and sharply quickened them as such the gun was now pointing to his head, blood dripping from his fingers, obstructing his view. A gunshot rang out, but he was not dead.
Clamoured shouting surrounded the security guard as realisation struck him and his hands felt heavy. The swan. The park was empty. He shook his head, the raw sting at the front of his head aching. He spun around taking the corpse where the rest of them lay. The lake had become a still graveyard for all of their remains. Silence swallowed his thoughts as he undid the loose knot holding one of the gondolas on the lake and a low thrum ripped at the silence as its engine started. As the boat floated on the lake its edges seemed to curve in as if allowing him to view corpses which floated on top of the water. The only sound resounding through the darkening sky was the heightened thrumming that indicated the motion of the boat across the lake. As he advanced through, more corpses piled around and blood leaked through, seeping out from seemingly the bottom of the lake. Flesh was strewn around and feathers that were once white, now floated in wine coloured waters. Dripping echoed as the security guard struggled to maintain control of the boat as it occasionally jerked forwards or backwards without warning. Dark shadows loomed over the edge which was accompanied by a familiar low growl and hushed whispers. His eyes widened as a shrill scream pierced the air and scratching persisted on the sides of the boat. Fear clawed at his throat as something was weighing down the boat. Water poured into it, dragging it towards the bottom of the lake and forcing the security guard underneath. The whispers followed as he was plunged into blood, iron filled his lungs and constricted the access of air. As he was struggling to escape the invisible chains that held him stationary, an uncomfortably eerie presence piled around him and the swans’s limp bodies made a heavy trail that did not allow him to move and their flesh crawled close to his skin, as if becoming one with his own body. Their feathers were pulled away and now their own skin had encompassed his, inevitably forcing him into a foreign body, yet the oncoming thoughts remained his. The creature appeared once again, gazing back into his swan, yet still human eyes. An overflowing fear forced control into his thoughts, but this fear no longer belonged to him. It was based on instinct rather than a conscious reason. The creature’s mouth hung wide beneath him, razor-sharp teeth circling its whole mouth. He thrashed wildly but the gaping void was inescapable. Darkness closed in and he was swallowed into a bottomless pit that was fuelled with crimson, his own organs floating around him and making him confused as to whether he was alive or dead. Blazing eyes glared back at him and the razor mouth bit down hard onto his floating heart which was attached with a chord to his chest and blood spat out and poured away. 
His eyes widened. 
Chirping spiralled through the air and the security guard was sat down in an unmoving boat. He was not dead and soon realised - the creature had been a part of him all along, an extended figure of himself. That was why he never feared it.
It was the reason he existed. His own death was against him. But why?