Short lexicon to follow story.
Hot Rockin’ at World’s End
Genre: Dystopian science fiction, literary fiction
Word Count: 296 (without lexicon)
Warning!! Harsh adult language & violence might not be suitable for younger readers.
Schrödinger’s Cat had rounded up enough interested parties—or, more to the point, partiers—for one last, big bang-yer-head at the end of time. Sure, part of the lure had been the location. All the underground dead trees had shrieked in King Diamond font:
“Kewlest Party of ANY Century! DON’T MISS special guests Megaton Leviathan and Eddie’s Hammers, Dec. 31, 2099, Erasin’ Hell at the Mosh Room!”
WorldCits with special oc-imps did a slam dance at the prospect offered by the small type, in Britny Fox font of course, promising 37⁰C temps at partytime. “BC’s fridginest freakhouse,” it shrilled.
“But, the acoustics. Color me concerned,” singer and theremin player Blind Watchmaker complained to Schrö.
“It’ll be fine, bro’. Former colliders like the ‘Shroom have excellent sound capabilities, I’m told. Besides, everybody there will be so busy stonin’ and bonin’ . . .” Although he shit-grinned, consummate concert-promoter that he was, Schrö let his voice lose volume, as if the answer to Armageddon was always achingly obvious.
“And the poser was at least partly right,” Blind Watchmaker was to recount years later. “Desperate WCs did surface for the gig—droves of them—and the sounds were tight. I think if a person was outside in the withering Canadian sun at 10 a.m., he probably still woulda felt the music crunchin’,” he pointed at the dead-center of his chest, “about here, instead of hearin’ it.”
The truth was that nobody had anticipated literal carnage. Sardined in the metal musical box, leather on jeans on synfibes like Ex-Spand, ‘bangers were squashed underboot like long-haired lightning bugs. Either trampled or crushed against coils of chilled niobium tin, some 4,700 lost their lives for love of loudness.
And still, the new century dawned, a sunken sun under the skin of night.
BC: British Columbia, a Canadian province.
Dead trees: Something like the newspapers and tabloids of the 20th and early 21st centuries.
Oc-imps: Ocular implants.
Synfibes: Synthetic fibers (example: Ex-Spand).
WorldCits (thereafter, WCs): World citizens, as people of this dystopian future are called.
Written for Andreé’s weekly Scribe’s Cave photo challenge. Andreé’s own speculative fiction response to the prompt is here — and stay tuned, prose spelunkers, because her newest spec-fic book is due in November. I always love me a late-Halloween lit baby! And fellow metalfans, see if you can find all the 20th- and early 21st-century heavy-metal bands, songs, and other tropes.