Ficlets

1/2 a mile down the beach from the suicides, a massive robotic arm tore through the glassy surface of the water, followed by another. Digging deep into the beach, they pulled the rest of the machine from the trembling water.

A mehcanical sphere now stood on 2 legs 50 feet from the ground, the suicide inducing scream still bellowing from its underside. It seemed to be scanning the collection of ocean front homes. The howl stopped, and from the top of the sphere poked a thin black tube, which began to cough up a large dark cloud of winged bettles. The cloud made its way into the city, and scattered to make there new homes.

This happend every other mile along the east coast of North America and South America, and the west coast of Europe and Africa, and everywhere they appeared, mass suicides ocurred. Something about the scream drove even the toughest war heros to find somthing sharp, and jam it into the temples. Where the scream was audible, but not loud enough, it drove them to run.