The Dark Mosquito of Death and Doom (A True Story from like 10 minutes ago)

Buzz.

Not like usual, though.

This was... deep. Resonant. Like time had slowed and affected the sonorous wails of '20 greatest buzz hits' on vinyl.

Suddenly, a rapid tsunami of air crashes past my olfactory organ, followed by fire and pain.

Missed.

This is the thing about mosquitoes. They make you look a fool whether or not you come out victorious. The mosquito wins, every time.

It's a modern warfare conjured up by these mini demons. First they learnt to kill us with malaria, making them by far the greatest human killers in the history of mankind. Nowadays they can only kill about 600,000 people a year though, so they had to take on new tactics: Mildly annoy billions. It equates to the same thing.

But this one... this was different.

The vibrations in the air were resonating with my brain's lymbic system, at around 233 Hz, Bb.

I know what she's trying to tell me. BE flat, lie down. Fall asleep so I can heartily gorge on your common blood type.

Well, she isn't gonna get me again. Not after the elbow incident 8 minutes ago.

Action

Unfortunately, I refuse to kill things unless by accident like those bats I killed playing tennis, or under extreme circumstances like when a mosquito mafia try to perform Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring around my face when I'm trying to sleep.

In this situation I need a humane game plan.

Intimidation

Swatting pathetically seemed to have had a temporary effect, but like a velociraptor, she learns quickly, and like a hyena, she was quick to approach once again, closing in on my ear, as if to say 'if you don't give me your blood, you're gonna have to deal with this. All. Night.'

What else can I do? I can't afford to move out and lose my deposit.

Suffocation

It's hard to suffocate a mosquito, so I just attempted to self-suffocate under my bed sheets. The problems with this are twofold:

• The slow rate of suffocations makes breathing a slightly increased level of CO₂ unbearable
• I can still f**king hear Mosquito floating above!

Oh god, I proper noun'd Mosquito. She has a name.

Resignation

I'm now sitting here, staring at Mosquito sitting, round like a marble on my laptop screen, occasionally rubbing its hands together like some kind of house fly, cackling evilly just beyond my hearing limitations.

Once again, humanity has lost. Do the mosquitoes know this? Do they know we are trying to make them infertile? Do they have a counter-plan?

I wouldn't doubt it for a second.