(Preface/Bio)
August 4th, 2022
I am Arthen Grifson. You don't know me, but you will soon. I know where you live, where you grew up when you were small. You are from earth, and I envy you. I've heard stories of earth since I was a kid.
Your father probably sells groceries. Hell, he may be a mechanic. He thinks his job is shitty, but it supports your family. That's more alone than I can say. My father could've had it all. Glory, fame, money, you name it. The son of a general already has history written for him. Unless, of course, he goes crazy and publicly tries to take over the trade capital of the planet. Then instead of fame and glory comes accusations of insanity, and imprisonment. And most heartbreaking, the devastation of a family and any chance of a clean name they may have.
My planet, Ioxeii Prime isn't anything special. Our technology surpasses yours, but our 'humanity', if you will, most certainly does not. I.P. is used as a galactic stockpile of machinery bases and engineering facilities. We build ships and weapons for the Igona Galactic Military. Naturally, a swift-minded suck-up can make his way into the ranks if he so chooses, like my grandfather. It only takes one fucking nutcase to toss the rest into the garbage, and doom his family to working in the starcraft factories.
I am smarter than your average factory monkey, and have been carefully constructing my own craft.
I am Arthen Grifson. You don't know me, but you will soon.
44 To Go
August 6th, 2022 11:00 AM.
Ioxeii Prime, Grifson Bunker
7 years of stealing a recalled guidance system here, and an engine there.
7 long, promising years of tiptoeing around security procedures, of 'correcting' log books; of spending my nights drafting electrical and system schematics and testing my creation for air tightness and durability.
7 years of secrecy; Of dedication; diligently working through my own blood, sweat, and tears in hope of leaving this wasteland to join you. Earth, hardly aware of its own little allotment in the universe. Unaware of the endless wars that have ravaged so many galaxies. So naive, and pristine. A fresh, new beginning in the path of a planet's life.
Tonight, I will embark. With nothing but the clothes on my back, a week's supply of rations (including a few bottles of I.P.'s finest liquors, of course) to last me until I reach your solar system. If I can spread my technology to Earth and earn an ally to our forces, I will become a hero! My family will be forgiven of its inherited disgrace, and my children will NEVER have to endure what I have.
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August 7th, 2022 8:00 PM
Igona Free Space - 230,000 miles from Ioxeii Prime
The ship is stable! I left unnoticed, using the cover of a cargo frigate's departure code to exit Ioxeii Prime's containment shield. I am but a day into my week-long flight, but my body is already weak from anticipation. In a few days time, I may jump into slip space. 3 days of slip space travel will direct me almost to your moon.
The rest of the night will be spent in drunken celebration, with my only companions - the stars of the endless night.
Not Me Nor Anyone
August 8th, 2022 2:00 AM
Arthen's Starcraft, Ambition
The alcohol is gone. I saw a red luminescence stretch to infinity, in the shape of a hand. i swear to god that it was real, though I can't remember if it occurred after the second or third bottle of liquor. I waved to it, and it would not wave back. rejected by even the universe.
I believe that I am suffering from a fractured wrist from...resolving my rejection. the onboard computer mainframe has it far worse than I do however! punched a hole clean through it. I don't even know why I am even logging this. in fact, fuck this journal. not me, nor anyone, will remember my past failures
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Arthen stumbled around absolutely shitfaced, gawking out of windows for hours, before shutting himself in the sleeping pod to prepare for the slip space journey.
Beyond The Stars
The hull of the Ambition trembled as it entered slip space. Slowly, it gained momentum as stars become streaks. It takes only a few days to travel what would normally take a few months.
As the Ambition exits light speed to arrive at our moon, it shakes violently.
"What the hell?" Arthen screams as he jolts forward in his sleeping pod, cracking the bridge of his nose on the plate glass.
The confused young man winces at the sight of his misshapen wrist as he opens the pod door. Slowly creeping through the cabin of his small ship, he notices a hole in the shell of the mainframe casing about the size of a football.
Arthen whispers as it his memory began to fall back into place, "Son of a bitch, I need to get a hold of myself. I'm surprised I didn't knock out anything important."
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A spark catches my eye from inside the metal cabinet's fresh wound, but it didn't draw near the attention that the moon did. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen was the sun, reaching out beyond the edge of the moon's surface, blinding me as my ship continued its automatic orbit of the moon.
And then, as I was caught in this moment of natural enlightenment, I realize yet something else; I was nearly out of fuel. Without thinking, I fell into the pilot's chair. My head was still throbbing from the chaotic awakening. I'm sure my liver was in even worse shape.
I slammed the throttle forward and broke orbit from the moon and started towards Earth just as the thrusters simmered to a silent death. The spacecraft slowed, and bounced off of a few pieces of broken debris before coming almost to a complete stop.
I cursed.
I punched the desk.
My wrist popped again.
And my jaw hit the floor as my Ambition began to pick up speed. Earth's gravitational field was drawing me in!
The endless night of space began to wan away, instead being replaced with the light blue of atmosphere. Fire engulfed my entire view as I hurdled through the sky. I could only imagine what this fireball of a ship looked like to any onlookers far below, on the surface.
My eyes were once again drawn to the red, blinking light in the shape of a fuel nozzle. I was in for a rough landing.
The hull of the Ambition went again into a seizure, trying not to fall apart in the atmosphere.
'Warning - 5000 feet above sea level, Captain.' the computer mocked. I pulled as hard as I could on the steering levers, every ounce of strength flowing from my white, bulging knuckles into the sticks. Ambition tilted, rotated, and finally began to level out before it hit the side of a large hill, skipping across a withered field like a rock on a lake.
It finally came to rest under a large, ancient oak tree. The door folded into itself, and smoke billowed from the exit port. I tumbled right out, covered in soot and slept under that oak tree for what felt like eternity.
Shut My Eyes
The ground vibrated as a distant 'BOOM' echoed across the hilltops. A flash burnt through eyelids, and I was once again jolted awake.
I could see groups of large, black tanks in the distance, crawling their way through the dead field towards my small, billowing ship. And that's when I noticed it. From where I stood, to the horizon in every direction. Burnt, dead plants, leaning gracefully along the ground. Was it like this everywhere? I kneeled, taking the stalk of a black, crisp plant into my hands and examined it. Such innocence, torched almost to dust.
Boom, buh-boom. The tank's shells flew far over my head, above the dead tree. I turned around to follow them, and watched them land. A simple village, with log and straw houses, was reduced to craters. People screaming for their mothers, for their homes, and for their gods where blown away instantly. I returned to my ship and swiveled the turret towards the tank and fired a great, blue blast directly into the middle of the tanks.
The tanks slid sideways into the blue bolt. There was a flash. Where the tanks once perched was a few pools of molten metal, congregating into the middle of a fresh crater. With the threat gone, I left my near-worthless ship under the tree and headed to the remains of the town.
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Few buildings remained in the village. Survivors rushed to my sides, ranting. My first thought was that they were praising me for destroying the tanks that nearly killed then. Then my vision flashed red as I felt a solid crack on the back of my head. I sprung back up from the ground, ready to break the neck of whoever cheaply bludgeoned me. When my vision returned, everyone was retreating to their semi-destroyed huts. I heard the shuffling of feet, the slamming of doors, and the sliding of locks.
I picked up on what sounded to be a news broadcast from the rubble of one of the buildings to my left. Upon further inspection, I found that the sound was coming from a small black and white television. I barely remember a time when my planet used full color, wall panel video outputs. This small village, perhaps the entire planet, must have been pretty primitive in terms of technology.
The television was coated in dust, but I did not even have to see the screen to know what was going on. I could vaguely make out a figure with thick, brown hair, a neatly trimmed mustache, large sunglasses, and a cigar yelling.
"Friends and allies of the Rising Liberation Front! I am so glad you have chosen to join us! A wise choice indeed...The people of Garissa, Kenya unfortunately did not make the correct choice! Let this be a warning to those who have yet to decide! The rest of Kenya will have 3 more hours to make a large fire in the middle of their village, and surrender your belongings and yourself to us...or we will decide for you."
The message chilled me to my spine. Not only this place, Kenya, but the entire planet was having a battle royale. I, the innocent bystander, was caught in the crossfire.
7 years down the drain, I think to myself, as distant explosions drew my attention back to the reality of the situation.
I fell into a dead sprint, hurdling over bodies, between the few standing buildings, and back to my ship.
My only slice of home is stuck on this forsaken warzone of a planet. I snatched the few remaining food rations and left my Ambition billowing its final breaths into the sky.
Skullabye
An explosion threw me to my feet, and I presumed my ship had finally caught fire. I talked myself into not looking at it, hating the very thought of being trapped on a planet where its citizens are forced to sleep with one eye open because of constant raids and mass murder by its government.
My feet were blistering, and I needed some food to re-energize me. I found a large rock by an oasis about 10 minutes east of the crash site, and sat down. I removed my boots and let my feet hang down into the cold water.
A bush rustled behind me, and before I could reach for my blade, the intruder sat beside me. The look in his eyes halted my hand in mid air.
There was a certain quality about his eyes that unnerved me. It was too damn familiar. And then it hit me.
I saw those eyes every morning for the last 23 years, when I woke up and glanced at the mirror. The sick desperation to get the hell out of your daily life. To leave everything behind. Longing to bring happiness to those you love, but have no chance to. We talked for hours. He told me of the war that has ravaged Earth for the last 2 years. How in the late 2020, a man came to power from a distant country called America. America was the economic capital of this planet. It had the most powerful military on the planet, and was one of the leading developers of new-age technology. This man, Leolamin Skatsinburg, led a crusade against his opposing countries, persuading the citizens of America that it was to liberate the people being oppressed by their governments. Within 2 years, Skatsinburg had taken over most of South America, Asia, Europe, and was working his way down into Africa.
"Our village has nothing to even offer this man, this madman. We live off of what we can hunt and grow. He is a devil, killing off whatever moves."
This man had taken over most of Earth in 2 years.
Leolamin Skatsinburg did more than my father ever could. And he got away with it in the eyes of his nation.
The King And His Crown
"Unit 6, continue your scheduled path south. Unit 7, break off and follow me west to Nairobi."
A dirty, black pickup truck with a few soldiers riding in its bed cut off of the worn trail, across the charred fields.
"Affirmative, Colonel. We will head south to Garsen and await further orders."
The caravan of trucks and tanks kicked up a storm of dust that floated into the distance, seeming to escape as far from the road as it could get before settling back down.
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The convoy left a glowing horizon behind them, flaming remains of buildings reaching towards the sky like skeletal hands. It was like this wherever the black army had been.
What started as a war became a game, the native explained to me. Colonal Skatsinburg aimed to devour the entire world, expanding America into a global nation. His speeches in early 2020, before the war, were filled with uplifting messages of bringing America out of debt, and not relying on foreign trade anymore. The entire nation was behind him.
Then the war struck. He had black ops agents take control of Chinese fighter jets and bomb US states along the western coast. The citizens of America were in favor of retaliation, and the war expanded from there. American rebels were killed in the streets outside their own houses, left for others to gawk at, and the stray dogs to eat.
2 years later, and this out-of-control president has killed nearly every country on Earth that would not join him.
Everyone left on earth thinks like this man, save for the few third-world countries on death row.
March
Kenya had been nearly halfway demolished by the time our fateful hero crashed into the middle of that field.
This was only Kenya, however. The Rising Liberation Front's Black Army Unit had already steamrolled nearly all of Europe (Italy and France joined forces with the RLF, which provided a decent base of operation for the Eastern Hemisphere focus of the global attack), with dozens of other attack squads cleaning up the last of Russia, Asia, and the Middle East. North and South America were dominated quickly within the first year of the war. The abduction of the Middle East supplied the Black Army with oil for gasoline and other useful products, and the taking-over of Russia provided them with most of their weapons and soldiers who were willing to surrender.
Each continent's invasion started the same way, with forces entering from the northeast and northwest, meeting in the middle, and spreading back out to create a spider-web effect until the entire continent was under control. All that remained was the rest of Africa, Australia, and the few oil drilling settlements along the coastline of Antarctica.
"Africa is succumbing quickly, is it not?" the colonel asked the truck driver rhetorically.
"Yes sir, it is sir. Brilliant plan with the field burning to flush natives to the rivers." he replied nervously.
"That was my idea! The gunships patrolling the main rivers are launching napalm into the surrounding land as they pass! It's too easy! It all just takes time..." the colonel replied enthusiastically. He trailed the last sentence off, into another drag of his cigar.
Earth was slowly catching fire, with a madman king bent on making a throne of the ashes.
Cigarettes And Time To Kill
I had to get back to Ambition and salvage any weapon remains there were. After suiting back up from my too-short break from it all, I sprinted back to the lone, dead tree that marked the grave of my ship.
Upon arrival, I noticed two things. There was a large crater about 20 feet away, and my ship was still intact.
"Come on, start!" I yelled as I plowed through the open door, into the pilot's seat. The engines were too deprived of even the vapors of fuel to fire. Everything electrical still functioned, however. I sat, thinking of what I could do to stop this deranged army. The only thing my eyes could focus on was the turret.
The Ambition's weapon system, the Echelon Model 35-ATS, was one of the most expensive things that I stole, worth almost as much as the guidance computer. Echelon immediately recalled the Model 35, as its Auto-Targeting System had a significant flaw in its structure. A simple blow to the turret from outside the ship it was installed on (as small as a force as hitting a free-floating rock and such) could surge the power to the friend-or-foe detection module. This led to the mining frigate squad in which it was tested immediately opening fire on one another in asteroid fields in which they drilled. Echelon almost had to file bankruptcy from the incident, but the Igona Galactic Military bailed them out with a cover-up. With myself being the buffer between recalls and the destruction of recalled systems for recyclable parts, I was easily able to obtain it.
The bolts that it fires consists of a mass of air particles superheated into plasma, so condensed that the bolts obtain a small magnetic field. This draws vehicles into the plasma, where it coats and immediately melts away whatever it comes in contact with. This alone is why I needed it if I wanted to survive this warzone.
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I found an old van (from the 1980's, judging by its owner manual) in the rubble of the village, which was now abandoned. With the repair torch on the Ambition, I was able to weld a man-hole in the roof. My turret system wasn't too hard to remove. I did install it, after all! The turret and its targeting system fit snugly into the hole.
It was time to find a new place to settle into.
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"Unit 5 to Unit 7. We have a situation. Is the Colonel still in your convoy? Over."
"7 to 5, affirmative. We are 3 miles outside of Nairobi. What is your situation? Over."
"Something blew up 5 of our 6 tanks. I was watching our 6, and there was a bright blue explosion, except it was near silent. All I heard was hissing, and by the time I swiveled back to our front, there was nothing but fucking lava, man! I've retreated back to mobile HQ but everything is gone! Where the fuck did-"
"Colonel Skatsburg to Unit 5. Slow down. Something turned MY tanks into LAVA? You'd better start making sense soon, or I'll kill you myself."
"Colonel, you got to believe me! It was like fuckin' Independence Day, man!"
"The 1996 film? You got to be shitting me."
The colonel flipped open a case (labeled Kenya Liberation Insurance) in his truck, found a drawer marked "U.5 Insurance", and pulled out a small switch. Opening the protective case, he flipped it. Nothing noticeable happened in that truck, but just over 230 miles northeast, a lone tank exploded.
The colonel chuckled to the driver of his truck, and took a long hit of his cigar.
"Well, that clears that up, haha!
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Meanwhile, Arthen Grifson and his one-man army tank was heading to the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi, coincidentally where the Colonel was heading.
Spoiled Meat
Arthen pulled into the airport shortly before the Black Army's mobile HQ, with the 5th African Invasion Unit trailing shortly behind. Most would think that an abandoned airport would seem odd, almost ominous. Arthen, however, thought nothing of it. Compared to what else he had seen of Earth, this was nothing new.
He had just moved the E35-ATS turret into the undercarriage of a freshly fueled airliner when Colonel Skatsburg's forces moved in. They didn't see him until he was preparing for take-off.
"Such primitive controls.." Arthen muttered while bringing the engines to life.
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The colonel parked his truck directly behind the Boeing, and got out.
"Who the FUCK is in a plane now? Are they evacuating people?" the colonel hissed, jumping out of the truck and shoving a magazine into his old AK-47.
"I'm going with you, sir!" a soldier yelled from the back of a covered transport truck. As he hopped out of the truck and jogged to the colonel's side, on looking soldiers winced as his brains were blown from his head, hissing as they hit the hot, black asphalt of the runway.
"No. You're not." the colonel muttered. This made him laugh unexpectedly. His half smoked cigar hit the ground and was extinguished by the expanding pool of blood.
"God DAMNIT! You fucking asshole, see what you made me do?" yelled the deranged leader. The other soldiers remained where they were seated, like living statues. Colonel Skatsburg unloaded the rest of his clip into the mangled corpse, some of the bullets ricocheting up and skipping into the field behind the runway.
Ahead of them, the airliner began to move. The colonel sprinted underneath the massive plane, and caught hold of one of the landing wheel's frames. With a few swift motions, he disappeared into the belly of the plane as it took off.
"What do we do now?" one of the soldiers asked another. He didn't have a chance to reply, as a bright, blue flash of plasma melted them all.
They didn't even get to see the plane almost crash at the end of the runway.
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Arthen was just about done preparing for flight when he heard the single shot, muffled heavily by the engines and hull of the plane. The other 29 shots were a bit more audible.
"I'm not sure what is going on out there, but I'm getting the hell out for sure." he muttered to himself, pushing the throttle of the plane all the way forward. The plane began to lift off with ease, without its usual weight of passengers and luggage. More easily than Arthen expected. As it suddenly lifted up, he pushed the steering wheel back down, causing the plane to bounce off of the ground one last time, almost knocking him to the floor. It lifted back off into the sky, and Arthen pushed his seat back.
The remote controls for the turret, which bulged out of one of the bottom-level windows, were in his lap. Through the camera's eyes, he saw the huge corral of vehicles that remained near the airstrip.
"Thinking about a take-over, eh?" he grinned, while charging a plasma bolt. The plane shook as the bolt fell from the skies, drawing the vehicles into a pit below it. After the flash, once again, nothing save for a pool of molten steel remained.
Like Dust In Roswell
About 20 minutes into my flight, I was already getting bored. It was then that I pulled the "E35-ATS Instruction and Guidance Manual" out of the small drawer in the remote control computer, and began to glance over it. Apparently, the entire testing mission for the turret rig was in itself, a cover-up. It didn't misfire in a group of mining freighters. It never even went that far. It was, as the manual described, a global climate disintegration device. It was a government-only, untested weapon for causing chaotic climate activity, essentially melting any protection a planet's atmosphere has against the sun's radiation. I assume it was to help our galactic military's "negotiations" with other planets to join alliances.
My eyes were immediately opened.
How could I have been so blind? The same thing that is happening to this poor planet, was happening on a galactic scale back home. Join our military alliance, or we nuke your planet's atmosphere so that you can die a long, horrible death of radiation flooding. My entire life, I have been a pawn, just like the natives in Kenya. And now, I have turned into a monster. I am doing exactly what this madman, the newly established King of Earth, has been doing.
But it's too late to go back. I must do this so that nobody else can. If I can just save this world from a galactic war...
I am Earth's quick and merciless death.
Immediately, I pulled the seat back to the controls, and started flying as high as I could into the sky.
A few minutes later, I approached 10,000 feet above sea level and set the cruise control to remain at the high altitude. I resumed control of the turret and set an extended charge period.
"Captain, don't you think you're going a bit overboard with this?" the familiar, calming voice of Ambition's operating system echoed from the turret's remote control. I didn't respond.
"A 10-minute charge of the E35-ATS can ignite and disrupt the atmosphere of the average Class 5 planet. An atmosphere with nitrogen or oxygen present while the turret charges will be infected with solar radiation almost immediately, as nitrogen and oxygen gas react extremely violently when exposed to nitrogen and oxygen in its plasma state." I recited, word for word. It was time for me to end the madness on this planet. Anything to keep it from ending up like Ioxeii Prime, or the entire Igona galaxy.
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Colonel Skatsburg awoke in the cargo bay of the plane, with vague memories of the violent jolt of the planes takeoff knocking him unconscious.
"That son of a bitch is going to PAY for this!" he yelled ferociously, while wiping the bloody mess from his forehead.
He exited the cargo bay via a lighted ladder, and found himself at the tail-end of the passenger seating. Gripping his AK-47 like a war hero, he began to stride down the long isle to the pilot cabin.
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Arthen had set the charge 5 minutes ago. In 5 more minutes, the turret would let loose a torrent of flaming plasma that would ignite the surrounding atmosphere, and obliterate whatever it rained down upon when it finally reached Earth's surface.
He had just stood up to search for the plane's supplies of food when the door was kicked open by the man he saw on the television.
"LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO MY HEAD, YOU FREAK!" the colonel yelled as he swung the butt of the rifle into the still-healing bridge of Arthen's nose. Arthen was knocked backwards a few steps, and then pulled the gleaming blade of the knife he procured from his space craft's survival case. The only other item in his possession to remind him of the Ambition.
"What in God's name do you have there? That knife is...glowing! Is that a goddamn blowtorch?" the colonel gawked in amazement. His jaw dropped open from either horror, or amazement. Arthen took this opportunity to quickly slash the rifle's sling. In a swift, graceful spin, he grabbed the rifle and pointed it securely behind the colonel's left ear.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't fire this gun RIGHT now." Arthen growled into Skatsburg's ear.
"Because you'd likely blow out one of the windows in the cockpit, and we'd all be sucked into the sky to die, fool!"
"This entire planet is going to be cleansed of your army in mere minutes. Fool." Arthen mocked grimly. He could taste his own coppery blood running from his nose.
As he pulled the trigger, the AK simply clicked.
"I never reloaded! HAHAHAHA!" the colonel backhanded blindly behind him, knocking the rifle into the corner. They stared at each other for a few moments, when behind Colonel Skatsburg a small computer beeped.
"Time's up." Arthen smirked. The blast from the turret knocked them to their feet, and then to the ceiling. The exploding torrent of plasma fire was enough to knock the plane into a spiral. The turret tore lose from its hold in the window, and shot plasma every which way as it fell. Rays of fire shot up into the sky, floating majestically as it reached its peak, and was pulled back down into earth. Arthen and the colonel were smashing into walls, ceilings, floors, before Arthen caught hold of the safety straps on the pilot's seat. The plane's grim corkscrew towards the ground let up momentarily, and he used this opportunity to strap in. He almost got the plane leveled out when one last ray of plasma cut finely through the tip of the right wing. The colonel strapped himself into the co-pilot's seat, and helped pull back on the steering column.
Between the two of them, they were able to bring the plane nearly under control. But there was no land around them for to land. The turret finally splashed into the water about 500 feet below them. The water boiled as the turret blasted its dying bursts of energy into the sky.
The sky itself was beginning to turn a sickly red as the sun burnt through whatever was left of this portion of the atmosphere. The chain-reaction would spread throughout the rest of the globe in a day or so, Arthen thought blandly as he tried to land in the water.
The aircraft lifted up one last time as it neared the surface of the water. Then it cratered into the water. With no hull breaks, it would float for 15 or 20 minutes. The colonel and I stood from our seats, exhausted. He followed me into the isles, and to the emergency exit.
The exit door blew out into the ocean, where dying fish were beginning to float to the surface from radiation poisoning. We jumped from the exit, to the left wing of the airliner, and sat against the warm metal.
"How does it feel to be one of the last men on earth?" he asked me with a sick smile.
"Do you have another cigar?" I replied, ignoring the question.
The colonel reached into his breast pocket, and pulled one lone cigar out, along with a large metal lighter. The lighter made a 'ching' as he opened it, and lit the cigar. After a long drag, he passed it to me.
"We are going to die out here. Just like everyone else on earth. We're going to lie here and cook like bacon once the sun cuts through the rest of the atmosphere. The water will begin to boil away, vapors streaming off into space. Everyone will die." I muttered.
A streak of light caught both of our attention. It looked as though a meteor was hurdling towards earth, and paused before it smashed into the water.
"That's a goddamn alien! UNIT 5 WAS RIGHT! GODDAMN INDEPENDENCE DAY!" The colonel was jumping up and down with laughter. The airliner was rocking along with him. His sunglasses were busted, his hair was standing out in all directions. He looked more like a madman now than ever.
"That's my ride out of here," I whispered in awe. The ship hovered beside the airliner. The door opened, and a staircase was lowered from the opening to the wing of the jet. I stood solemnly, and walked to the stairs. Before I ascended, I flicked the cigar back to the colonel.
He caught the cigar and burned his finger just as I asked him one last question.
"Colonel, how does it feel to the last man on earth?"
The stairway retreated into the doorway, and a cool air hit me as the door closed.
I Hope The Sea Eats You Alive
The huge spacecraft lifted slowly up from the sea. The jet was beginning to sink into the hot ocean. Within a few days, the oceans would be gone.
"I hope that sea eats you alive, fucker." I muttered.
I could almost hear the angels singing as I viewed earth from space. The planet's beautiful blue surface was being replaced with red clouds. The surface seemed to be on fire from this far away. I turned around to head through the ship.
As I walked through the airlock, I could see faces gawking at me behind windows. The other end of the airlock opened, and I went through. I was in a hallway, face-to-face with the general of the Igona Galactic Military.
My grandfather.
I was in shock. I haven't seen my grandfather in 19 or 20 years, since I was just a toddler. He looked at me in shame, and walked through a door to my left. I didn't even know what to do. I kept walking through the hallway. I ran through the hallway. I SPRINTED through the hallway. I wanted to be as far away as possible from my grandfather.
A door shut in front of me in the middle of the hallway. Then a door slid shut behind me. The lights turned off, and I started crying. After this crazy journey, after escaping death numerous times...My mother ship did not come to rescue me. They came to capture me. I cried like a bitch.
A door slid open to my right. Almost in slow motion, a figure walked into the dark hallway. The light spilled into the hallway. It wasn't enough to see clearly, but I saw enough.
I saw his badge shining brightly until he was a few feet away from me. An official IGM Interrogator. I shut my eyes and waited for it.
He picked me up, back to my feet. I trembled with my eyes still closed. One punch to my gut, and I doubled over. A knee to my face. My nose was broken again. One kick to the side of my leg and I went down. Bawling like a baby now, I was dragged into the room he came from. There was a single chair bolted to the ground, facing a large black window. I knew who sat on the other side of the window.
The interrogator handcuffed my hands behind my back as I sat in the chair. My feet were cuffed to the ground. I felt helpless. That's when my grandfather's voice rang out through a loudspeaker.
"How did you find your father?" he asked gravely.
Primordial Sky Whisperer
"How did you find your father?" he repeated.
"I have never met my father!" I screamed. The interrogator pulled out a long, skinny, black stick. He hit me once in the shins with it.
"How did you find your father?" he repeated once more.
"I don't know what you are talking about! You should know more than anyone, my father is in prison!"I screamed. My throat felt like it was bleeding at this point.
"Your father had his memory deleted and sent to earth to start over. Your father became president of a successful nation. How did you find him?" his voice echoed. Everything was twisting and turning at this point. I felt sick.
Then I got it. The colonel on Earth was my father. Of all of the planets in this sector of the universe, how did I pick this one?
The old, decaying voice of the general was still speaking, but I couldn't pay attention to it. My mind was racing. Where they playing games with my mind? I was hit in the side of the head with the interrogator's stick again. I blacked out.
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"One day, we'll get out of this mess." a woman whispered between sobs. She was holding a baby.
"One day we'll get out of here, and go to earth to be with daddy!" she whispered, kissing the baby on the cheek.
"Mom?" I cried out. The woman didn't move.
"Mom! Look at me!" The woman still didn't move, aside from rocking the baby to sleep. The baby had thin, brown hair.
"Go to sleep now, Arthen. We'll be with daddy soon." The woman laid the baby in the crib, and laid down in the floor beside it. There was no other furniture in the room. The soft clinging of a children's lullaby toy echoed through my head, and the room went black.
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I briefly remembered being pulled out of the chair, and pulled back down the hallway. Thumping down the stairs of the mother ship entry, and right into a van.
In The End
I awoke a week ago in a white room, on a white cot. Everything was so clean. I stood on my cot and peered out of the small window, expecting to see Earth on fire, the screams of all the dying souls flooding my ears. Instead, I saw a clear blue sky, with a large fluffy cloud partly obstructed by a giant green tree. The tree stood in the middle of a Wheatfield, which was separated from this building's small yard by a tiny, white, wooden fence.
Hedges were trimmed evenly. The air smelled of fresh-cut grass. Everything looked so perfect. Across the room from my cot was a sink, and a mirror. I decided to wash my face. That was the worse dream I ever had. I ran some water over my hands, and glanced into the mirror.
My heart sank.
The man looking back at me looked older than me, somehow. His forehead was slightly wrinkled, and his nose was misshapen like it had been broken a few times. In fact..there was something ON my nose. A flesh-colored bandage. I peeled it off to reveal a scabbed mess.
It wasn't a dream.
The door opened, and two men in white uniforms walked into the room.
"Good, you're awake." one said calmly, as if this was a routine for them.
"Where...am I?" I asked? My voice cracked like an adolescent's.
"You are back on Ioxeii Prime. This is the Igona Galactic Military's mental institution in the Northern Colony. Now come with us and eat your breakfast, Arthen." The men walked towards me, and I saw one pull another long, black stick from behind his back. I immediately gave up, and let them escort me down the hallway.
The Extinction Of Suffering
I cannot stand it anymore. Once a week, we are allowed to walk along the edge of the property-line to get fresh air. They hide a pill in our meals that keeps us in line. I found out that it is sprayed onto the top layer of our food.
Now I've started to only eat the bottom of my food! I've outsmarted them! I only get to eat about half of my meal like this, so I have to be careful about my energy usage! Don't want to starve to death! Tomorrow I get to walk again. I saw woods not too far away. I will run away. I don't care if they chase me. What will they do, bring back inside to my room? Hahaha!
The Last Dream
The sun peeks out from behind a cloud, high in the sky. The beam hits Arthen right in the eyes. Usually this would wake him up, but he has not even been asleep for days. A week of malnutrition and sleep deprivation. It's a wonder he's alive.
"Mister Grifson, it's time for your walk. Time for fresh air!" the voice rings through the loudspeaker. Remembering his mission, Arthen sits up. He's already dressed. The man in the white suit leads him down a hallway, and out of a large set of double doors. The sun once again hits Arthen in the eyes, but he doesn't flinch.
"I've seen the sun from the surface of a planet with no atmosphere." he mutters, drool running down his lip.
"I'm sure it was brilliant, Mist Grifson." the man in the white suit replies, holding back a chuckle. It's against company policy to laugh at the inmates.
The sky is as beautiful as ever. Not a cloud in the sky. A cool breeze blows blows from across the field. The Wheatfield looks like a river.
"I don't know why you stayed so silent." Arthen said sharply, his eyes narrowing.
"Excuse me?" the man in white paused, eyeing Arthen.
"Not you. Never mind." Arthen began walking again. The man in white walked ahead of Arthen, shaking his head.
Arthen swiftly pounced on the man's back, driving him to the ground. The man began to scream for help, but Arthen broke his neck and made a dead sprint for the tree line.
"These aren't woods!" he yells at the sky. He peers through the tight treeline to see a cliff, with the sounds of a lazy river just underneath it.
"Everything here is a perfect little post-card worthy picture." Arthen whispers in rage.
Arthen strolls to the edge of the cliff, no longer in a hurry. Life can end too suddenly to rush. As he sits on the edge of the cliff, he looks over the edge. The lazy river empties into a sea. No land as far as the eye can see.
"My god, that must be at least 150 feet to the water." he whispers to himself, and abruptly stands to walk away from the edge.
"I'm so tired." he whispered, his dry throat rasping and dragging the words out.
"I just want to sleep."
And then Arthen Grifson closed his eyes, and fell over the edge. Time slowed to a crawl
The wind caught his long, brown hair and pulled it away from his face. When he opened his eyes, the white foam of the river emptying into the sea appeared to be the faces of all the people who died on earth. He could make out every individual face. He saw the native at the oasis. The villagers who jumped him. The soldiers. And billions of others he couldn't recognize, all underwater until the sea met the sky at the horizon.
And his father. His father, who the galactic military brainwashed and sent to earth to start anew as punishment for his insanity. Who he wished to be devoured by the sea.
"Faaaaather!" he cried out, nearing the jagged rocks and water below.
"Who are you?" the colonel's watery lips asked.
Arthen slammed into the shallow water, smashing his ribcage open on the rocks underneath.
Sputtering forth blood, he answered his father's question with his final words.
"I...am Arthen Grifson. You don't know me...but you soon will."
A lone siren rang out at the mental facility. They found the man in the white suit, with a broken neck. They saw the path of stomped, broken stalks of wheat pointing at the tree line. The security guards walked through the tree line and saw the cliff.
But they didn't see the corpse of Arthen Grifson, Lone Captain of the Ambition, floating out to sea to be with the souls of earth that he saw in those shallow waters.
