My Short Story - Tumblr Posts

Rot

The news was bleak. Teow had gone the depressingly apocalyptic path of its predecessor home-worlds, and at almost half the time it had taken Jorae. At only thirty seven years the signs of Rot were beginning to appear in the outcroppings of civilization, signaling it was once again time to flee.

Our crafters, creators, the engineer's of society traveling at disproportionate speeds to preserve intelligence, were of course already working on the fifth destination. It's location not even yet known by them to ensure Rot did not spread via sabotage. It was, however, too soon. Even were the shuttles to me delayed as long as humanly possible, there was doubt Moeg would be ready in time.

Even more found themselves asking why to even bother. Rot had consumed Earth, and ever sense it seemed to cling to humanity like an infection.

No moving ceased its pursuit. No cleansing purged its hold. No cure could be made to combat its growth. And neither could the weapons of men harm moving poison. Rot is reckoning taken from, a meteor from God, a karma from Gaia, a sickness. Yet still we try, still we run. Further and further every time despite the diminishing results.

It seems as though our death will finally be met upon Moeg, or perhaps on route. Only twelve thousand engineers will remain, creating planets for the dead. Given time Rot will reach them too, carbon form developing near light speed just so that it might kill the last human adrift in space. It was not enough to live alone and as a failure, the scourge condemns you to die as such without chance of salvation.

I see around me the past playing out at heightened speed. Panic, unbridled and untamed, wrecking the streets of super-cities. There was lawlessness, there was death, there was anarchy already beginning to take form, and there was fear and suffering at what would eventually come. It had happened before. I had seen it before. This time was worse however, more extreme, for we were ever more aware of imminent doom.

I have already decided to let whatever happens, happen. To let the choir of screams outside go unanswered. To let murder, and thievery, go unpunished. And to let myself die, in isolation, surrounded only by damned billion's of similar fate, as Rot consumes life. I have already decided to go unsaved.

What more could I do? The news was bleak.

The Revenant

Sirens screamed like an old Drekavac now immortalized in cold steel, their cries accompanied by violent red lights of warning which shone upon blood that bathed dead corridors. Once soldiers of courage fled down winding halls in panic, more, in dread. Rightfully scared scientists, engineers, cooks, janitors, piolets, all that remained, that is, crammed themselves into every tight corner that provided a haven of safety. God-fearing roars of resident announcer Micheal Shirk bellowed out mechanically an omen that all could see. The Revenant had arrived once more.

As hell broke loose, and the stranger from across the stars massacred the occupants of Travelway Haden, Captain Philip prepared to take his own life.

Philip thought first of despair, of agony, of pain soon arriving and to be delivered by his own pistol. A vellian shot through the chest would be the force of a raging bull, the shock of the electric chair. Millions of volts were to course through his body instantaneously on impact. A violence beyond nature that would evaporate hair, burn skin, twist bone in sudden spasm, and partially cremate upon corpseification. Even all this would not act quick enough to prevent Philip from the second pain. From feeling the gaping hole in his chest, lungs popping and hearts punctured, muscle dropping to the floor, blood pouring.

As the Revenant drew near, and the last dying screams of attempted hiders vibrated upon metal, the choice became clear.

Philip's next thoughts were of regret, for Cassandra told clearly of the knife in her hand, and how she would come to exact payment in pain. It was clear from that start that whatever was trapped within the vessel, its construction of solid tungsten and alien alloy, was never meant to be. Yet Haden had welcomed the unknown stranger, nursed it, taught it. Taught it science, and religion, and history, and culture, and politics, and above all the purest way of man, the greatest pastime of humanity, how to kill. It so passively demonstrated its clear lacking need for instruction, standing idly and with disinterest at every world not involving food, until we had come to the topic of death. Foolish as children, we were but toys that interested it, animals barking such funny noises, but when a dog bites an owner, the dog must die.

Screams had all died down now, even the howls of Shirk. Not even the Drekavac and its fellow red dared announce the coming presence, for without warning Haden was silent and dark. Silent, that is, except for the soft foot prints of the Revenant outside the command rooms very door.

Steeled, prepared, Philip turned the gun rapidly not at the mortal monster beyond but towards his own life. Pulling hard the clicking trigger so that a finger paled from pressure. Dying. Alone. One billion miles from family. But safe from the Revenant. Safe.

The Revenant did later then open the heavy door to find a bloodbath. Mangled and burnt body that smolders atop fine carpet now dipped in red, half the chest thrown against the wall. It surely smiled at this site.

--the end

Dream Headshot art + Mini Story!!

Sliiiide.

    Scraaaaape.

    Sliiiiiiiiiide.

    You tremble behind the decrepit, old wooden table, that you know won't hold for long. When was this backup getting here?! You had taken a mission outside the City, to clear out a small village. The company was planning to rebuild the village, and set it up for orphaned children, so they had their own little rooms. You thought the idea was sweet and adorable, so you volunteered to help. Your entire crew was to kill the monsters roaming round, and get ready for the construction teams. The plan failed, however, when your crew was jumped by the Monsters, and now you were finding pieces of them... Well... Everywhere. So, you snuck into the nearest house to hide, but the thing was persistent, and followed you.

    You carefully step towards an open pantry, watching the Monster behind you shuffle around, with it's head swiveling back and forth on a rotted, spindly neck. You hold in a whimper and step closer to the closet, but you freeze as soon as you do.

    CRRREEEEAK-

    Damn it. Damn it all.

    You straighten, summoning your sword. The Monsters head sickly snaps on your direction with a loud popping noise.

    Ugh, disgusting.

    You did the one thing that was truly stupid, yet incredibly brave. You leap onto the table, brandishing your sword at the Monster, and slicing at it. It screeches and raises a claw, swiping down. You jump in time, and watch as the table gets destroyed below you, the monster was in a perfect position. Grabbing onto the chandelier that you had seen above the table beforehand, you slice it free and yell a battle cry as metal and your sword smash into it's skull. You grimace as the skull barely imitates the sound of bone cracking, and instead made an unfortunate sucking noise. You wrinkle your nose as you tug your weapon free, and look down. Your armor had thankfully saved you from being to hurt by the metal chandelier, and you wonder how the hell it had stayed in the rotted ceiling this entire time anyway. You didn't have time to ponder when you hear a loud gunshot, followed by two, three more.

    Backup!

    You breathe in relief and dart out the door of the house, when you get smashed to the ground by something powerful. A hand around your throat pinned you to the ground, and you grab at it, gasping for air. You feel cool metal against your temple. You manage to growl out,

    "Not... In-infected..!"

    The hand lessons it's grip and pulls away, and you sit up quickly, gasping for air. You blink up at the man before you, and immediately scramble to your feet and salute him with your left hand.

    "C-commander Dream, sir!"

    The (literally) flaming pheonix eyes you, and raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twitch.

    "Glad to see your safe, cadet, and not infected, but that's the wrong hand for a salute."

    You flush red and quickly correct yourself.

    "S-sorry, Commander."

    Dream huffs softly, running a hand through his hair.

    "Don't worry about it, kid, and you don't need to be so formal. Especially out in the battlefield."

    You look around to find multiple monsters scattered about, oozing black blood from the holes in their heads and chest.

    " Is this..."

    "All of them? Yes."

    You relax, and peer up at the much taller Commander.

    "Did you come alone, sir- I-I mean, Dream..?"

    He nods, "I came as soon as I heard what the plans were. Look, I know this was something that was supposed to be done for good, but this place is full of scent markers from the Poachers. From the smell of it, marked a few hours before your team and you had arrived."

    Your stomach drops.

    "This was a trap. They knew what we were doing! How-"

    Dream waves a hand at you.

    " Don't. Do not tell anyone I indulged this information to you, either, but you're a smart kid, you'll figure it out."

    Your voice softens, " How would you know I won't babble..? "

    "I don't. "

    His sharp answer made you peer up at his face again, and you suddenly feel very small at the sharp scowl on his face.

    "If you do, I'll make sure those were your last words."

    You fidget, and nod. His scowl softens and he turns away.

    "Let's get you home. There's not much left of your team to take along, but if you wish to mourn them, I'll keep watch for more monsters."

    You look down at the ground. You knew a couple of these cadets from school, and you feel the tears welling in your eyes. Suddenly, you feel warmth coat you, and look up to see a fiery colored wing wrapped around you. Dream peers down at you with a look of understanding, and anger, you understood in return.

    You managed to return home the next day, thanks to Dream. Collapsing into your bed, you already planned your speech out for your team's funerals, but you had one more thing on your mind, and you couldn't even question it to anyone. Anger coursed through you at what Dream had told you about the Poachers. There was only one conclusion to that little issue.

    There's a mole in the Hunters Association.