The Book Report: Dead Silence by S.A. Barnes

The Book Report:

Dead Silence

by S.A. Barnes

 

 ---

 

Outside, there's nothing. The void. Dark, endless blackness. Impossible cold. No food, water, or air. Just emptiness. Inside, the darkness presses in around you, only better than the void outside by the few work lamps that protect you from the black of infinity. Your head is pounding and the claustrophobia is setting in. The finery of a bygone era is all around you. Rare woods, plush carpeting, and beautiful flowers in every vase. Extravagant jewels, silks, fabrics, and opulence that only the most money can bye adorn the corpses of those who last found themselves in these haunted halls. If not for the dead, it very well may be an exciting adventure to board such a fine vessel, but the question keeps nagging at you. How did they die? Why did they die? And why do I keep seeing something move out of the corner of my eye?

Dead Silence is a masterful recapturing of the classic haunted house story, this time told in the deep recesses of space. Following Claire Kovalick and her team of deep space communications engineers, the story hops quickly between 'then' and 'now' as Claire retells the tale of how she found herself to be the sole survivor of a harrowing discovery after answering a distress beacon at the farthest reaches on known space.

With only bits and pieces of memory, some of which she can't even be sure are real, Claire retells how her and her crew discover the missing luxury cruise ship, the Aurora. A one-of-a-kind piece of history, this ghost ship has been lost for several decades after only a brief hay-day when it was revered as the single most luxurious form of space travel the worlds had ever seen. Only several months into the Aurora's maiden voyage, however, the ship mysteriously went missing without a trace, with no sign of it. Until now.

On entering the ship, they only find more questions than answers. And the mystery, and terror, deepens when they find themselves locked inside the Aurora with no way to escape and something else beginning to react to their presence there.

Now, locked in a mental institution after her discovery, Claire recounts her tale to the company executives in charge of investigating the ship's disappearance. She has no idea how she escaped and is only beginning to put the pieces back together after being discovered in an escape pod by a passing vessel. The company is certain that Claire killed her crew, either by accident or design, in the interest of keeping the wealth of the Aurora to herself. After all, this is the second time that she was the sole survivor of a catastrophic event and the first time certainly didn't paint her in a good light. And it seems all too convenient that she's haunted by her dead crewmates, tripping her up during her interviews when the company men might get something useful out of her.

Using the first person narrative, Dead Silence does a fantastic job of dropping the reader into the terror and keeping them in the action. A lot of information that ties to the heart of the mysteries is readily apparent and available in the reading, but often not plainly obvious due to the disorienting nature of everything going on. Even better than that, and perhaps this is just personal preference, while most things are wrapped up rather nicely, certain fantastical elements are simply never expanded on past the obvious due to the fact that the narrator herself never learns the answers. In my opinion, this actually helps strengthen the narration as a whole and adds to the sensation of being in the action.

I think my one complaint for the tale, and the reason I couldn't give this five stars, is that the strength of the book is also its weakness. Claire is very clearly traumatized and suffering from mental health issues. This is a point of growth with her character and it is very reasonably and satisfactorily addressed. However there are a number of times in the story where the focus is so heavily on this element and the 'spinning gears' in her head, so to speak, that I feel it detracts too much from what's going on. There are a few parts where it steps over the disorienting storytelling and instead becomes self focused enough that it begins to lose the reader and the focus of the rest of the book. If these areas were cleaned up, it would truly be a perfect, scary story.

All in all, Dead Silence does a great job in standing among other space-based horror stories. Akin to tales such as Alien, Dead Space, and, particularly, Event Horizon, the author holds their own, using both the expected and unexpected to craft a fantastic scary story. I definitely recommend this book for anyone who wants a new spin on the old classic of ghosts and ghoulies that go bump in the night, wandering haunted halls til someone new comes to call.

If you're interested in checking it out for yourself, feel free to check out the link below, I personally recommend the audiobook as Lauren Ezzo's acting adds an extra, emotional weight to the story that I believe adds to its telling:

 

Dead Silence | Audible Audiobook

Dead Silence | Kindle Edition

Dead Silence | Paperback

Dead Silence | Hardcover

Ceaseless Dark - Chapter 2

Original Artist: Shawn Poh | https://www.artstation.com/artwork/qdOQL

===

 

The problem, simply, is larger than many people

tend to realize. Space, and space travel, requires all

of the relevant resources to be carried with at all

times; or, at least, some measure of acquiring the

necessary resources. Ask your average layperson and

they will give you the big four: food, water, air, and

fuel. But existence requires more than that.

 

Any tool you will ever have, or the ability to fabricate that

tool, must be brought with you. You must bring clothes,

medicines, recreation...literally anything and everything

you would need to function both mentally and physically;

all of that must be shoved into a cramped, vehicle

with you as you shuttle through the dark. 

 

Imagine being forced to live in an apartment for 

years on end. Every door, window, every crack to the

outside would be sealed and you would have to live in

there without anything but telecommunications to the

outside. No physical, outside assistance of any kind.

 

What would you need to bring with you to survive 

for all of that time? 

 

- Captain Tatiana Botezatu, The Nagato 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

  

    The entire door gave way with a muted thunk that wasn't so much heard as it was felt through the reverberations of the environmental suit. However, thanks to the microgravity, the door didn't fall, but rather just began to drift lazily backwards away from them.

    "After you, little lady." Dunagan said with a wave of his hand.

    "Well, if lady's first, by all means." Colby shot back with a wave of her own hand.

    "Well now, don't mind if I do." he responded with a mock flip of imagined hair.

    The big man pushed off gently from where he rested near the door, floating into the hallway beyond, followed shortly thereafter by Colby. 

    The hall was pretty much what they were used to with these sorts of ships. Cramped with only enough space for the two of them to be side by side, drifting maybe a foot or two off the deck. Sleek, metallic paneling, thick, solid metal doors, big, bulky electronic doorpads and monitors, hardened polyglass lighting across the roof and floor, and clearly marked walkways, doors, and location designations in bright off-white paint that, without the century of exposure to the elements, would have glown in the dark with natural bio-luminescence.

    Everything was sturdy, built to last, and meant to survive and help the passengers survive deep space. No frills. No decoration. Just functionality and rugged durability.

    All about them, things drifted quietly in the dark. Random objects that found no rest due to the microgravity. A pen spinning in a constant, lazy circle. An old tablet that drifted near one corner of the hall. Someone's discarded hat, a UMC private's hat based on the designation on it, hovers just between them as they move. The dented remains of a steel coffee tumbler slowly bounces off one wall.

    "Spooky place." Merrick crackled out over the radio.

    "Eh, it ain't the worst place we've been too." Colby said with a non-committal shrug that the pilot on the other side couldn't see.

    "Still... gives me the creeps." she shot back.

    "And that's why you don't dive." Jameson's voice came through over the static of the radio.

    "Nah. Don't say that, boss." Dunagan replied with a smirk Colby could make out even through his darkened visor. "Give the little girl a chance. Next time, I'll fly and she can go with Colbs."

    "No fuckin' way." Merrick answered quickly.

    Half way down the hall, Dunagan and Colby stopped in front of the next door. Near identical to the one they just cut through, this door was labeled as 'EQUIPMENT STORAGE'. Glancing back the way they came, Colby could just make out 'ALPHA LAB' next to the sizeable hole in the metal that they'd passed through.

    "What? Don't think I'd make a good pilot?" Dunagan chided.

    "Dunagan, I don't think you could fly us a hundred kilometers through open space with the ship on autopilot."

    "Technically, that wouldn't be flying." Huli seemed almost to whisper through the static of the connection.

    "Look, all I need is a fancy hat and to sit in the squishy chair. No muss, no fuss." Dunagan blustered with a gentle wave of one hand. "Best damn pilot y'all have ever seen."

    Colby glanced down the hall to the flotsam floating about. After spotting her target, she hopped along the wall for a moment and snatched the old private's hat before returning and tapping the old piece of headwear against the chest of Dunagan's environmental suit.

    "There ya go, big guy." Colby said. "All your's."

    "Ah!" he almost squeaked with joy, a sound you wouldn't expect out of the wall of muscle that was the big man. "A fancy hat!"

    "And I'm sure we'll find you a squishy chair somewhere in here if we look hard enough." Colby returned as she pulled the plasma torch once again from her belt.

    "But is it Merrick's squishy chair?" he asked.

    "No, I guess not."

    "Well then I don't want that one. I want Merrick's."

    "It's my squishy chair, Dunagan." Merrick hissed out playfully. "All mine. You'll never get it."

    The blue-white flame ignited on the plasma torch, spurting and flickering with little flashes of white and gold trailing off its edges as Colby brought the tool up to the outside edges of the door. Instantly, the metal there began turning to a soft, molten putty beneath the torch's heat.

    "But see, I got the hat, Merrick. And you'll be on a dive with Colbs. There will be no one to stop me!"

    "Buhh." Colby could hear Merrick practically shudder through the radio connection. "No thanks. And, even if I did go on one of those deathwalks with Colby, someone could stop you."

    "No one could!" Dunagan repeated.

    "Huli could."

    "Here I thought you'd say Pascall." Colby commented, her focus on her work in front of her.

    "N-no. She's right. I'd just lock out your access to the command consoles." Huli said, her voice distant as she seemed to be thinking about it. "And probably my door after that. No, definitely after that. But, worst comes to worst, yea, I'd call Pascall."

    "They've got ya beat, Dun." Colby observed.

    "What am I being called for?" Pascall's thick baratone scratched out through the microphone.

    "It's nothing, Pascall." Merrick replied. "Just threatening Dun."

    "Dunagan?" Pascall asked, just the slightest hint of threat in his tone.

    "Alright, alright." Dunagan said, holding up his hands in defeat, though only Colby could see it. "I'll be good. But I'm keeping the hat!" he quickly added.

    "Love ya, Dun." Merrick chided.

    "Yea, yea. Say that all you want but you cheated bringing Pascall into this."

    "What can I say? I'm just a fan of the man with the high power sedatives."

    There were a few scattered chuckles throughout the radio feed, though, unsurprisingly, not from the doctor himself. Pascall was almost certainly more focused on some other project more interesting to him unless something drastic happened and the team had need of his services.

    "Got it!" Colby said as she finished cutting through the metal around the door.

    She stepped aside and, gingerly, Dunagan drew the slab of metal that was the door back out into the hall with them and set it to drift away down the hall to join the rest of the detritus. It was always easier to bring the doors to them versus trying to shove them into potentially small spaces like an unknown room. In this instance, it was definitely the right choice.

    Beyond, they found themselves in what seemed to be some sort of large, walk-in freezer. The walls were a thick, textured metal and several large vents could be seen overtop of three heavy-looking, industrial shelving units packed to the brim with assorted items.

    It's probably colder now then it ever was when the power was on. Colby mused.

    "What've got, guys? Can't quite make it out." Jameson asked through the static.

    Dunagan and Colby both drifted carefully into the room and started going through the stuff on the shelves. Plenty of it was basic lab equipment. Beakers, vials, metallic and plastic hand tools of every, shape, size, and level of precision. Cleaning supplies for every state of matter be it solid, liquid, or gas. Nothing more than they might find on in their own ship's haul.

    "Nothing interesting here." Colby announced.

    "Sucks to suck." Dunagan commented, causing her to glance over his shoulder, though the only thing she could make out were some sort of darkened polyglass jars.

    "Got something?" she asked.

    "Hey, Jameson." Dunagan asked, ignoring Colby's question. "What's the rule about pets on board, again?"

    "Only Sir Fredrickson the Third is allowed on board and only because he is fluffy and delightful." the captain replied in his normal, strict monotone despite the ludicrousness of the statement.

    "So if I told you I found something slimy and disgusting?" Dunagan asked while proffering up the jar he was holding to Colby, who took it gingerly.

    "I'd say you should probably clean your sheets." Merrick offered.

    Colby stared down at the jar in her hands, trying to understand what she was looking at. The jar seemed almost perfectly sealed, as though it were never meant to be opened somehow, though, how whatever was inside actually got inside was beyond her. Smooth polyglass in a perfect cylinder, maybe some 30 centimeters tall and 13 centimeters wide. No openings, tabs, or any obvious means of getting into it short of sawing the thing open.

    Whatever was inside the jar was a lot harder to make out, however.

    The majority of the inside was stained a deep ombre green with scattered batches of brown, black, and deep violet purple. Those patches that she could see through, Colby could make out some sort of thick mold or growth coating the inside of the cylinder that appeared almost furry or fuzzy in appearance. Tiny tendrils of some sort of plant or something grew out from the fuzz and drifted listlessly about like it was in a fluid.

    Colby gently shook the cylinder in her hand and, confirming, saw things drift about thickly as though in a soup. She couldn't make out any liquid actually sloshing, and concluded that it must be vacuumed sealed.

    Then, as she watched, something small and with far too manly limbs moved swiftly from one of the patches of mold to another. Disappearing just as quickly as it appeared.

    "Guhhh." Colby exclaimed.

    "Wow." Huli proclaimed. "I think something's moving in that, Colby."

    "Definitely is." she confirmed.

    "And we got more!" Dunagan declared excitedly before motioning to the several shelves of similar containers, probably at least two dozen in total.

    "The hell is this thing?" Colby asked as she held it up closer to look, once again seeing something small and slimy dart from mold patch to mold patch.

    "Whatever it is somehow hasn't frozen in deep space and still has shit living in it, so that's good enough for me." Jameson declared matter of factly.

    "These things are gonna sell for a pretty penny." Dunagan declared happily and Colby felt her own excitement growing.

    "Let's get them back to the ship." Colby said, brief thoughts of what something like this could be worth flashing through her mind.

    "Negative." Jameson said. "I'll mark it and you can pick them up on your return sweep."

    "But Boss..." Dunagan began.

    "What if something happens to them?" Colby finished.

    "If a century in space hasn't done it yet then I hardly think another thirty minutes or so is going to matter. Besides, you're going to follow quarantine procedure and put those things in DeCon tanks. This isn't the family station wagon."

    Colby and Dunagan stared at each other through their visors, looking at the jar in his hand and the ones on the shelving, but it seemed like the matter was already settled on the other end.

    "What is a station wagon?" Merrick asked.

    "Th-they were a type of old fossil fuel vehicle." Huli answered.

    "Huh. Weird."

    "Boss..." Colby began again.

    "No. Now hurry up. You're burning air." Jameson said flatly, shutting down any further discussion with that simple fact.

    She stared at the jar, a bubble of worry starting to creep into her stomach.

    "Come on." Dunagan said with a gentle pat on her shoulder as he took the jar, placing it back on the shelf where he found it. "We'll grab em on the way out."

    Colby stared after the jar for a few seconds longer, watching as something dark and slimy flitted from once side of it to the other, appearing only long enough to disappear into the mold on the opposing end and wondered at how anything could be living in there and not be frozen solid.

    "Yea. I guess you're right." she said before finally looking at her diving partner. "Let's go."

===

Start the Story from the Beginning

Ceaseless Dark - Chapter 1

 

=======

 

Space is one of the only wonders that humankind will never

truly manage to fathom. It's seemingly simple in its complexity,

able to be summarized in only a few words, but impossible for

any person to grasp the magnitude of it. The concept of 'Infinite'

is one that the layman and scientist alike can agree on the basic

definition readily. Endless. Without borders or edges or dimensions. 

A vastness so great that the act of traversing a fraction of a fraction

could see the birth, rise, and death of an entire species and not even

reaching your intended destination during that time. 

The very concept is so grand in its scope that no terrestrial ape,

no matter how clever in their machinations, could ever hope

to appreciate or understand the unlimited, uncaring emptiness of 

which we barely manage to survive in by no other measure than luck.

- Dr. Shagun Beckett, "Into Infinity"

 

 

Chapter 1 

    "Easy. Eaaasy." Dunagan drew out the word as if by force of will alone, the universe would bend to him.

    Colby ignored him.

    The plasma torch in her hand was hot, even through the layers upon layers of protective equipment and the thick padding of her environmental suit. Truly, a testament to the dangerous tool in her hand. The blade of blue-white flame burned noiselessly in the vacuum around her, but seemed to echo up through her suit from her fingertips as a ghostly hissing noise.

    "Almost through..." she declared. "Three... Two..."

    In the next moment, Dunagan pulled hard against the debris, wrenching the freshly cut metal loose, and then promptly pushed back against it to keep the whole mess from sweeping the two of them back into the blackness beyond.

    "We're in." Dunagan announced.

    "Good job, guys." Merrick crackled over the headset radio. "Keep us posted and be careful in there."

    "Always am." Colby responded, the excitement slipping through as she did.

    Colby always felt excited the first time they entered a wreck. To her, it was like opening a present on Christmas morning. Every ship was different. Some were big and boxxy. Others small and sleek. Plenty were somewhere in the middle with all manner of weird shapes and angles, facilitating the needs of whatever systems or people used to inhabit it. But opening them up was what really got her heart racing.

    You never knew what you'd find inside.

    Contrary to what most Earthers believed, wrecks were somehow both more and less perilous than they imagined. Many dirt-dwellers thought of it akin to diving for sunken treasure in pirate infested waters, exploring the rotting corpse of some vessel claimed by the sea years prior. But, given the lack of both sharks and water, abandoned space-vessels were more akin to urban exploring or, perhaps, wandering into a great, old ruin. It wasn't completely uncommon to find the remains of people, though probably less common then one might think.

    As fun as Colby always thought that sounded, it just wasn't accurate. Instead, the actual dangers came from the ships themselves.

    After all, people don't just abandon ship because everything is ship shape. Something catastrophic is often happening. The bigger ones, engine failure, reactor meltdown, etc. don't tend to leave much more than scrap to pick up. However radiation leaks, environmental failures like oxygen or temperature, and even contaminants like disease or a dozen different types of system failures can all lead to people high-tailing it off a ship and leaving the hulking vessel to careen lifelessly through space.

    When working ship salvage, as Colby and her team did, it was always necessary to remember that the inside of a ship was filled with untold dangers, all of which you had to be on the lookout for. Something as simple as a misstep or bumping too hard into something could tear open one's environmental suit and then it was "Bye Bye, Guy".

    Still, that had never happened with their team.

    They were professionals.

    Even with all the dangers, the reward far outweighed the risk for her.

    Just as every ship was filled with possible dangers, it too was filled with possible treasures. Scrap was the easiest haul. Literally just metal and alloy to be processed down and recycled to fly again once more. But the interior of ships were filled with anything and everything imaginable. Anything that a person might possibly carry with them or strap onto or into a ship could potentially be hidden within the confines of a dead wreck.

    Technology, electronics, equipment, contraband, smuggled goods, cargo of all shapes and sizes, and, depending on a salvager's view of graverobbing, potentially any number of personal items could all be found and resold for a decent price.

    While Colby and her team didn't fall into that later category, there were times she'd considered crossing the line. One time in particular had been on a small passenger ship when she found the remains of an old wealthy woman's jewelry box. Technically she could have commandeered the expensive box and its contents without anyone being any the wiser, but it always felt wrong.

    It's one thing to take from an empty vessel.

    It's another thing to take from that which was once a person.

    Now, as Dunagan carefully pulled the loose pieces of metal and tossed them out behind, dooming them to an eternity of drifting through space til they either ran into a sun or burned up in the atmosphere of some planet who knows where, Colby felt her guts tightening in excited anticipation.

    The ship they'd found, the Auriga, was an old military science vessel that had been marked as destroyed roughly a century back, during the First Planetary War. Based on the condition it was in, it seemed likely that it been under fire and the crew jumped ship. Holes pockmarked the hull and detritus, attracted by the pull of the vacuum of space, had filled in the gaps of the wreckage.

    No gravity.

    No atmosphere.

    Filled with debris and the remains of a hurried escape.

    It was honestly Colby's favorite sort of wreck.

    It was probably the closest she ever felt to being one of those explorers that so many people thought ship salvager's were. Those old divers that would go down into the ocean ship wrecks. Water. Sharks. Beasts and mysteries of the deep.

    Colby felt goosebumps run down her back, the darkness closing in around her as her and Dunagan floated gently through the newly cut opening. The drifted past the thick, jagged remnants of the hull, and into a wide open space lined with computer bays, electronics, and a dozen different pieces of equipment that she could only think to describe as 'Science Stuff'.

    Her lips curled into a genuine smile as her helmet lights carved through the dark and she took in the load of old equipment that was, quite literally, in the very first room they'd entered on the ship.

    "Jackpot." she said gleefully.

    Strictly speaking, electronics that had been floating around in the emptiness of space were unlikely to actually work anymore. More than half, if not all, would almost certainly be toast. A century of exposure to cosmic and solar radiation, not to mention temperature fluctuations that varied by several hundred degrees, had a tendency to do that.

    Even so, finding military or science intel of any kind always pulled a pretty penny from the party who had lost it, more so if someone was inclined to sell to the opposing side. On top of that, the equipment itself was a good deal more valuable as scrap to be recycled and repurposed than hull metal.

    Precious metals were, after all, precious.

    "Can I say? I hope the whole damn ship is like this." Dunagan said, the smile plain in his voice.

    "It may be. May not." Jameson chimed in with a burst of static. "I'm marking it for the moment. Complete your sweep."

    "You got it, boss." Colby confirmed.

    "Be careful in there, guys." Huli's gentle voice sounded over the static of the microphones. "Military ship means no records. No records means I can't guide you through there."

    "We got this." Colby said with confidence.

    "Hell yea, we do." Dunagan agreed, lifting a heavy, gloved fist and receiving his desired fist-bump from Colby.

    "Enough chatter." Jameson said with a clipped tone. "Get moving."

    "Aye aye, boss."

    Floating past the bays of electronics, the two salvagers made their way to the sealed door on the other side of the room and began cutting their way through with the plasma torch, intent on the ship, and the bounty, beyond.

   

 ===

 

Read the Next Chapter - Chapter 2 

Little Island Tales - Part 13

    SCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAACCCCCCCCH!
    The roar, if that's what you could call it, was utterly inhuman. Defeaning at best, heart stopping at worst, it grew in fervent intensity as the beast came out of nowhere. It barreled through an entire grove of trees as easily as a scythe through a single stalk of wheat and didn't so much as slow down.
    And she couldn't even see the damned thing.
    It was like fighting the void of space itself.
    The gunshots roared in her ears and she bellowed her own roar of utter defiance. She heard something pop and blood openly ran from her pounding ears. Her entire body ached and her knuckles rattled with each shot, but that didn't stop her from unleashing a torrent of hell against the monster that dared challenge her.
    Unfortunately, the bullets didn't seem to do much.
    Only the tracers, flashing flares jutting out every few rounds, even seemed to make an impact. The burning red pyrotechnic charges seemed to burn the thing's flesh for a moment before vanishing inside the pitch-black beast.
    At least it was something.
    Not enough though.
    Not enough to stop it.
    Her hearing fading with each boom of the heavy rifle, she was forced to use drastic measures. Using the disappearing rounds as a judgement for distance, Jaelyn dove out of the way a half moment before the monstrous creature reached her. She felt her hip and leg bounce off its body as it roared by, sending her scrambling as her lower half was flung hard against a nearby tree with a disturbing crunch that seemed to echo in her failing eardrums.
    "Merde." she cursed weakly under her breath
    She clawed desperately at the forest floor for her gun, her mind doing all it could to focus on anything but the blooming pain.
    She had to fight.
    The beast was already coming about face, having cleaved out another chunk from the forest in a single sweep. Everything about it made her want to scream and hide in a hole somewhere. Aside from the monstrous roars, it was dead silent but for the forest it destroyed. It was just so big. So fast. And she couldn't see the putain de chienne! Once again, she brought her gun up and she didn't hear as much as feel her least favorite sound in the world.
    click
    "No. No! NO!" she heard herself scream, her words distant and echoing.
    She shook the useless firearm, quickly checking the clip and finding that it seemed to be jutting out at a strange angle. She tore at the jammed piece, but her panicked attempt to right the broken weapon was interrupted by a strange sound that made it through the haze. Weirdly, to her addled mind, it sounded like a dragon throwing up.
    Jaelyn, more on instinct than sight, flung herself away as something wet and acrid splashed across the forest floor where she had been only seconds before. She could feel some of it hit her boots and pants and felt a distinct sizzling sensation as whatever had been thrown her way started to melt through the hardened polycarbon.
    Well that's fun. She thought as something slick, hot, and wet started to pool in the bottom of her boot.
    Probably her melting foot if the smell was to be any indicator.
    Taking off at a run, fire running up her leg as her nerves burned with pain, Jaelyn slung the rifle and was about to go for her sidearm when she felt the thing coming at her again. Felt the ground shake as earth was displaced and trees were ripped asunder. She waited as long as she dared, til it was just on top of her, not inches away with its hot, stinking breath warming her neck, before snapping into a hard left and diving through a particularly thick grove of trees.
    And off a cliff.
    "MERDE!!!"
    Open ocean and fresh salt air lay before and under her with nothing else to catch her. In front of her, a massive pillar stuck out of the ocean and behind her the cliff she had come from. Underneath? Nothing.
    She clawed at the open air, reaching out for anything to grab hold of. To find purchase in anyway. If only she'd still had her pack.
    She had just enough time to look up, to see the beast's face poking out of the treeline, and scream up at it in fury.
    Jaelyn hit the ocean at the bottom of the cliff with a sickening crack from her back. Her body spasmed in shock and she didn't feel as much as see the air expel from her lungs into the cold, salt water. A moment later, darkness enveloped her and she blacked out.

    Some ways down the mountain, the village stirred; awoken by the sounds of battle from the forests unseen. They knew they roars of the aka-akua but not that strange popping, booming sound that hid risen to challenge them. When nothing further came of it, Diego, like many of the other children, rolled over and went back to sleep.

====

(A short entry today, but potentially critical. If you'll forgive the length, I felt that this entry was important to introduce a few things into the world of Little Island Tales. I hope you enjoyed and will join us for more soon.)
   

Little Island Tales - Part 8

    Despite what Diego had told Tamah, he had no 'stuff'' to do. He honestly didn't even know why he was walking away. He just knew that the prospect of sitting down with her and Ka'lani made him a little sick to his stomach and he didn't know what to to do about it.
    And so he walked back into the village. Away from the boot prints in the sand and away from his friends on the beach.
    It was strange. He felt conflicted.
    He had known Ka'lani for basically his entire life, but in the recent months, it seemed like something was changing and he just couldn't put his finger on what. She was acting oddly and, even more, he found that this upset him for some reason.
    Why wouldn't she tell him who the flute was for? Better yet, why did that stupid detail seem to matter so much?
    The feeling he'd had a couple days prior when they were sitting under the coconut trees returned and he really didn't know what to do with it. It felt like his guts were tied into a knot and he just kept asking himself the same questions.
    Even with the discovery of tracks in the sand, human boot-prints that the warriors didn't recognize, his mind drifted elsewhere and that fact alone made him even more upset with himself. But he just couldn't knock away his distracting thoughts.   
    So Diego decided to turn to the person he always turned to when he didn't know any better.
    And within a few minutes, he had found his mother.
    Initially, Diego had checked a few places in town. He knew she wasn't at Grammy Koula's, since he'd just been there, and ended up checking at home at around the town center. It was as he was walking around the pyre, watching several men pack wood onto the flames, that she called out to him from Johanas' hut.
    He couldn't help but grimace.
    Walking up to the little wood shack near the town center, Diego was immediately struck by the smell of the place. Despite the fact the cookpot his mother was working in front of was producing a wonderful aroma of roots and vegetables, the house still smelled.
    Diego loved his mother's stew. While the recipe changed slightly depending on whether they had meat available and on what kind of vegetables were in season, his mother always mixed in a hefty amount of spices and potatoes that gave the dish a unique flavor no matter any minor alterations in ingredients.
    But that just didn't matter in Johanas' hut.
    The smell was something that had always been unique to the man that lived there and, for that reason, Diego often avoided the home despite it being so deep into the town proper. It wasn't anything rancid like rotting meat or foul like stooled fecal matter. It had a husky, deep scent that one adult had referred to as smelling like a 'skunk', though he had no real reference to the accuracy of that claim. Much like the incense the town burned every month, the stench came from the plants that Johanas grew, dried, and smoked in his meager little garden.
    While cigarettes and smoking were uncommon overall, it seemed Johanas pretty much always smoked. He could regularly be seen with a hand-rolled cigarette hanging from his lips, a smile on his face, and a glaze in his eyes.
    Today was no exception.
    "Hey Diego." Johanas greeted with a genuine smile and a wave, the smoking cigarette dangling precariously from his widening grin.
    "Hey Johanas." Diego responded with a quick, cursory nod as he made his way for his mother.
    Johanas leaned back in his chair and smiled wider, his mind clearly elsewhere.
    Diego couldn't help but stare for a moment, though.
    The man was not too much older than him really, maybe a few years at most; however he looked like he'd aged decades. He had been a relatively promising warrior despite a more carefree attitude, however some said that same attitude led to his failure. And his attack.
    Now, sitting there rocking back and forth, his wood chair covered in pillows and blankets, Diego found it fascinating how the man tended to stay so calm and happy. The once powerful, albeit stocky, ex-warrior had shrunken away from his short-lived prowess. His left leg was shriveled and destroyed, forcing him to walk with a cane and a semi-permanent splint around the leathered remains. On top of that, his left eye had been gouged out, leaving an empty, staring socket, and his left arm had been equally mangled although it was at least still usable.
    Supposedly it had all happened when he was caught out along by a aka-akua. Yet, to everyone's shock, he had somehow survived the encounter, albeit far from un-marred.
    The longer he stared, the more Diego thought that Johanas resembled a ghoul; some sort of monstrous creature half-alive and half-dead. Except for that permanent smile.
    Diego had been young, but he still remembered seeing the mangled remains carted in off the beach and into Grammy Koula's hut. The smoking started shortly after he'd returned home; roughly half of what he'd been still functional.
    But Johanas never stopped smiling. Never stopped laughing even if the laughter was at his own suffering.     "Hello Nani." Tula said with a soft squeeze of her son's shoulder and a kiss on his forehead, drawing his attention away from Johanas. "I saw you wander by a few times."
    "I was looking for you." Diego answered his mother's unasked question.
    "You found her." Johanas confirmed with a widening grin.
    "What did you need, dear?" Tula asked with another squeeze of his should, her free hand still methodically stirring the stew.
    "I guess I just wanted to talk... 
    Diego glanced back at Johanas who was now rummaging about in a bag next to his chair. His mother stared at him expectantly.
    "...it's ok though. I know you're busy." he said quickly, changing his mind about speaking near Johanas. "It's nothing important. I can talk later."
    "Are you sure?" Tula asked with a look of concern.
    "You alright, kid?" Johanas asked as he retrieved several pale white sticks from the bag.
    "Yea..." Diego commented half-heartedly and watched in confusion as the older set several of the sticks aside. "What are those?"
    At first glance, he had thought the sticks were another kind of cigarette. Just a different version of something. But they seemed hard. Too solid. They didn't look like wrapped paper as much as some sort of small carved stick.
    "Ha!" Johanas explained. "These? They're cane."
    Diego glanced up at his mother who started to smile knowingly.
    "Cane?"
    "Yea!" the older man said excitedly. "Here. Try one. Its the only cane in this house that doesn't suck to use."
    Tula chuckled a bit as Diego hesitantly took one of the little white sticks.
    "I mean, I guess it doesn't suck as much as you do." Johanas quickly added.
    "I...what?" Diego asked in exasperation.
    As an example, Johanas took one of the little sticks and popped it half way into his mouth. He proceeded to demonstrate biting down and sucking on the stick.
    "I...I'm not sure I want..."
    Tula gave her son a little nod as if in confirmation that Johanas wasn't insane for chewing on sticks.
    Diego tried in turn.
    The result was a blast of sweetness like Diego had never experienced. It made him openly gasp. Even though the stick itself seemed to be just that, an actual stick, the rush of sweet was more than enough to take his mind off it.
    "Wow!" Diego exclaimed.
    "Pretty sweet, eh?"
    Tula groaned at him and Johanas laughed harder. He proceeded to go back and forth for a moment between his quickly dwindling cigarette and the chewed 'cane' stick as he called it, sucking on both with equal fervor.
    "This is really good!" Diego told him after sucking on the little white cane a few more times.
    "I like 'em." Johanas confirmed with a chuckle before closing his eyes and drifting back into a quiet stupor as he rocked back and forth in his chair.
    Diego sat in silence for a few minutes, chewing and sucking on the 'cane', just watching Johanas rock and his mother cook. That simple exchange had made him feel a little better and, when he'd thoroughly gnawed upon the little stick, he turned back to his mother.
    "Mom, can I talk to you for a second?"

Little Island Tales - Part 7

    The children spent a good twenty minutes staring at the boot-print in the sand. While there had been some initial awe over the size of the clawmark from the aka-akua that the print rested within, they quickly abandoned it in favor of, what they considered, a greater myster. Trying to figure out who had made the boot-prints, where they were going, and where they had come from.
    Ka'lani had seen aka-akua tracks before and Diego and Tamah simply accepted their clawmarks as just being 'one of those things'. Monsters were real. They knew it and they knew they'd be back in a month anyway if they really wanted to examine the things.
    The oddity was in some unknown person being on their island.
    Initially, there was some fascination as to why this stranger was going to the mountains. After all, they knew it had to be a stranger. The tracks weren't coming from the village, they were coming from the beach front. And, while they had passed nearby the village...well...near the fireline anyway; there was no sign they'd ever entered it. Just passed on by, moving smoothly in and out the clawed out holes that the aka-akua had left from the night prior. However, they quickly abandoned that train of thought in favor of the more obvious.
    So the question began: how'd they come from the beach?
    While boats were uncommon they were hardly unheard of. The village fishermen had a 'fleet' of a half dozen little two man boats that they would paddle out in order to set traps or fish the reef. The only real rule was that they didn't go further than than the reef and they needed to get back before the sun set.
    Diego wasn't sure about that last rule, but felt it undoubtedly had to do with the aka-akua. He'd always thought that maybe they hid in the dark at the bottom of the sea when the moon was out. It's not like any of them truly knew where the shadow demons hid or even if they existed outside of the darkness of night.
    But there was no boat. There was no sign of how or where the booted person had come from. It was like they had simply walked out of the surf and onto dry land. Like the ocean had just spit them out.
    The trio had followed the prints as far as they could and, while most of the tracks had been washed out in the surf or blown away in the soft sand, they couldn't figure out where the tracks had led from. Everything pointed that they came from the ocean.
    "They'll figure it out." Tamah finally offered reassuringly.
    "I suppose." Diego said with a shrug.
    "No." she retorted, seemingly rejecting his insincerity. "They will. We'll get the trackers and find whoever it is out in the mountains."
    Diego gave a little nod.
    "Yea. And then we'll drag them back here and demand to know how they got on the island and..."
    TUNK
    Ka'lani gave him a sideways glance but Diego was too focused on rubbing the knot on his head from where she'd just hit him with her flute.
    "What was that for?!" he demanded.
    "No reason." she admitted. "Just felt you deserved it."
    Diego glowered at her, but she continued before he could get a word in.
    "Still, we can't just presume that anyone who's on the island needs to be dragged anywhere."
    "But who are they?"
    Ka'lani shrugged, but seemed distracted. Thoughtful.
    "We won't know until we find them. Just because we don't know who they are doesn't mean they deserve violence."
    Diego, a fire burning in his belly from getting smacked with a flute, turned on her.
    "Yea?! And what if they're here to do something bad? What if they want to hurt us? Or hurt you?! Huh?!"
    "Yea!" added Tamah, building on Diego's energy. "What if they're working with the aka-akua?"
    "The aka-akua don't work with humans, Tamah." Ka'lani said evenly, addressing her sister. "They're demons."
    "What if they aren't human?!" Tamah retorted.
    "Demons don't wear boots, Tamah." her sister replied again, poking Tamah in the head with her half finished flute. "Even weird ones."
    "Weird demons or weird boots?" Tamah asked.
    "Yes." Ka'lani said with a reassuring smile.
    "That doesn't stop them from being a threat." Diego said sternly as thoughts of evil men sneaking into huts at night peppered his thoughts. "I won't let them hurt you."
    Tunk
    "Ow! And what was THAT one for?"
    "For getting my little sister excited." Ka'lani responded coolly. " Now both of you. Enough. You're getting way too worked up over this."
    "How aren't you?" Diego demanded, rubbing the second, albeit smaller lump on his head.
    "Because I trust that we'll find them and figure out why they're here. It's not like we live on a big island. Not only that, they can only stay in hiding for a month at most."
    While Diego thought to respond to that, the rather disturbing point Ka'lani had made stuck the words in his throat like a glue. Depending on the state of the moon, there was always a chance their would be an aka-akua wandering about in the darkness. If their visitor lasted an entire month, there was zero chance they'd make it through a moonless night.
    The children exchanged a knowing, albeit sickened glance with each other but said nothing more on the subject.
    "I guess you're right." Diego admitted.
    Ka'lani smiled in agreement.
    "Either way, I need to go work on this." she said, waving the half-finished flute. "Wanna come?"
    "Oh!" Tamah said in surprise, as if only just noticing the flute despite having watching Diego get hit with it several times. "Is that the one you're making for-"
    Ka'lani cut her off sharply with a hard poke to her forehead and a threatening glare. Tamah knew better than to proceed.
    "Who's it for?" Diego asked again, continuing the same line of questioning he'd given up on a couple days prior.
    Ka'lani shrugged and started walking away.
    To Diego's surprise, he felt his guts twist into a knot. It must have been obvious on his face because Tamah glanced up at him.
    "Are you ok, Diego?"
    "Yea." he said with a little nod. "Just gonna go do some stuff."
    "Can I come with you?" she asked with a smile.
    "Not right now. Why don't you hang out with your sister?" he said and turned to walk back into the village.
    Diego left Tamah standing there. She watched as her sister walked away towards a small thicket of coconut trees and as Diego walked back past the fireline towards the village center. Beneath her feet, the remains of one of the tracks that had so thoroughly enraptured them a matter of moments earlier, began to fade away with the bubbling, incoming tide.

Little Island Tales - Part 5

    "Hi guys!" Tamah whispered excitedly from behind them.
    Tamah, practically crawling over several other people, seemed to perch on Diego and Ka'lani's shoulders, covering them both in smears of recently carved charcoal. There were a few excited yelps and "Hey!"s, along with some disapproving stares from a couple of the village elders, but that didn't seem to slow the excited girl at all.
    "Sorry I'm late." she added quickly and started to try and push Ka'lani to the side.
    "Sit down." her mother in a quiet, yet firm.
    "I'm trying!" Tamah commented between grunts. "Ka'lani won't move."
    Ka'lani, inspired by her sister's desires, anchored herself in place. Diego received a well place elbow and a hip in the face for Tamah's efforts though.
    "I'm already sitting here." Ka'lani shot at her little sister. "Find another spot."
    "Friends! Family!" the Eldest called out from in front of the fire.
    "Move Kay!" Tamah tried again.
    "You move."
    "Sit. Down." Samaria said one more time, the warning in her voice palpable.
    "Fine! Finefinefine." Tamah remarked and quickly carved out a spot between Diego and his mother.
    There were a few excited whispers here and there, primarily for similar reasons as the final people found their spots and settled in as Tamah had. Diego, for the most part, ignored Ka'lani's little sister as she nestled into the sand next to him. Tula gave her a reassuring pat on the head.
    "Friends." the Eldest again called out, this time louder and with more expectation for their attention. "Family."
    This time, everyone listened, and quieted.
    Asim Walker was the oldest man in the village and colloquially referred to as 'The Eldest'. The title meant little with regards to actual decision making for the village other than a recognition of having ticked off the most years, yet there was still honor to it. While the Elders acted as a group to make help lead and govern, the four other elders, including Koula, Thomas, Jidalgo, and Hecate, had a tradition of allowing The Eldest to lead in the ceremonies. It was a matter of respect after all; anyone who managed to survive to such a ripe old age was clearly doing something right.
     Diego couldn't help but think that the man's stature helped a little as well when it came to commanding respect. Powerfully built despite his age, Asim had once been one of the most well-known and decorated warriors in the village and bore the scars to prove it. While his skin was a deep charcoal color and his hair was shock white, the man bore two, ragged claw marks that tore across his torso in bright red, swollen lines.
    "A parting gift from an aka-akua." he once told the children. "A way to remind me what hides in the dark."
    "Friends." the Eldest called in his deep, booming voice. "Let us bow our heads in prayer...and begin."
    One hundred and nine heads bowed deep til foreheads met sand. The action was smooth, practiced, and simultaneous between the young and the old, the wise and the stupid, women and men alike. They were one in their purpose and in their solidarity.
    "In the dark of the night..." Asim began.
    "The shadows wait." the village answered in one, tremulous tone.
    "And in the shadows..."
    "The aka-akua feed."
    "So may we never falter..."
    "And may the Pyre burn."
    "For we are the chosen of the Gods..."
    "And we will outlast the night."
    "Until the world stops turning..."
    "We shall outlast."
    "May the sun never set..."
    "And the light shine eternal."
    One by one, the villagers lifted their head from the sand.
    Despite having done this ceremony the same way every month, the initial prayer always had the same result. Sobriety. Sorrow. Frustration. Sadness. Determination. And many, many more emotions that couldn't be so simply calculated. Jaws were hard clenched, tears occasionally ran freely, some even shook, but all stared at the Pyre in quiet reverence as they mulled over the words they had just repeated.
    The ever burning flame was their single, stalwart defense. Even as the fog and the darkness threatened to choke out the torches that burned along the fireline, it was the Pyre that was their only true defense. No matter if anyone took their safety for granted throughout the month, laughed and played in the sunlight or even challenged death and walked freely in the moon-filled nights with a torch in hand, the prayer always reminded everyone exactly where they stood when darkness fell.
    While they may live on an island, the time they felt the most isolated was in that deep, darkness of the moonless night.
    "Rise, my friends." Asim said softly, though his voice carried across the crowd.
    It was not a command, but a request. A call to pull themselves from their stupor and rejoin the living as their minds drifted to the dead that wandered the black beaches of night.
    "As always," Koula began, speaking just as loud as Asim so all could hear, "we will start with the avatars."
    While their was no preset order, no decided upon way or enforced means of distribution, the village always followed the same path. Like a corkscrew working its way out, the innermost villagers stood and walked to the Pyre with their charcoal avatars in hand. The elders, who were standing in a star formation around the flames, passed their hands over the avatars and offered a blessing, or perhaps a spell of some kind, Diego had never known, before the villager tossed the avatar into the fire. This continued until the very last avatar at the very edge of the village center had been burned.
    Next, those with the with the name markers stood up. And then the smudge sticks after that. Each one was solemnly taken to the blaze, blessed, and then thrown into the roaring inferno. Every villager only carried one of the different tokens and, by the time the last smudge was burning, every single person had walked by the warm, searing light of the ever-burning fire.
    When the last person sat, the charcoal avatars were already smouldering and the recently tossed smudge sticks produced a thick, fog-like smoke that drifted up and out in every direction. The smoke seemed to try, and succeed, to fill every hole, to touch every pocket of air, and to expand like a slowly-inflating bubble that worked its way out to the fireline of the village.
    The incense burned their eyes and dulled their noses and senses, but no one would ever complain. While Diego had never dared watch it, he knew that once the smoke reached the fireline and the fog beyond, both clouds would stop; neither daring to move past the other. It would form a blockade against the evil that lay beyond.
    At least, that's what they hoped.
    The villagers seemed to hold their collective breath as a moment past.
    Then another.
    The fire burned and the smoke billowed and all around, the world was still.
    Until.
    SCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAACCCCCCCCH!
    The enraged cry of defiance was the signal they had waited for. The warriors who had been waiting at the edges of the group relaxed their tensed muscles, knowing that there would be no battle tonight. No fleeing into the dark to take the fight to the monsters the hid in the fog and the shadows.
    The spells had worked.
    The beasts could not get in.
    And so the village stood and they cheered. As long and as loud as each of them could.
    They were safe for another month.

In the Dark - Two Sentence Horror Story

It's funny: as a kid, you often get scared of the dark and ask your 
parents to check under the bed for monsters.

What you don't realize until later is that, in the dark, you need to 
check that they're your parents first.

(Hello Lovelies, I haven't done a Two Sentence in a while, but this one popped into my head while I was trying to sleep (I know...great time, right?) Either way, I figured I'd share it for your spooky enjoyment. Check in Thursday for more Little Island Tales!)

 

Uncanny Valley - Part 3

    Karlo closed his eyes and fell backwards.
    His fall was cushioned by the soft grass and the loamy soil beneath him.
    He was on the side of a hill and the sun was glowing overhead just as it started to dip towards the horizon. The smell of trees and grapes was heavy in the air and floated over him in wafts of warm breezes from the nearby vineyard. In the distance, he could just make out Krapina through the hills.
    If he really wanted to, Karlo could make his way over to Krapina and join his friends and family. They were all attending the Festival Kajkavske Popevke like they do every year but this year he just couldn't muster the interest to join them.
    He had too much on his mind.
    He was thinking about everything that happened. Everything that he'd been told.
    Only a few days before, he'd been told about an exciting new prospect. A reidite mine had just been dropped on the "moon" of Proxima and they were looking for people willing to risk their lives for some serious money.
    Karlo thought he was just one of those people.
    He had to laugh though.
    Proxima didn't officially have a moon that astrologists ever agreed upon. Instead, where the mine had been dropped was on an asteroid that seemed to maintain a relatively standard orbit around the planet.
    Thought it was technically name ISO-83256a, a few of the people he'd spoken to had taken to calling it "Paradise Valley" for some reason.
    All the same, the idea of riding a trillion tons of rock hurtling around the Centauri B solar system sounded both exciting and terrifying at the same time.
    And then there was the money.
    "Hey there, mister. This spot taken?"
    Karlo opened his eyes again to find his sister, Miljenka, standing over him. She was wearing a big smile along with her summer dress.
    In response, he patted the soft ground next to him.
    "What're you doing all the way out here? I thought you were going to join us at the Festival." she said, curling up next to him.
    Miljenka was his little sister by several years. Despite this though, there had always been a huge size difference between the two of them. She had always been exceptionally petite; taking after their mothers side. At a whopping five foot tall and ninety pounds soaking wet, Karlo liked to make jokes that a large bird or a strong gust of wind would carry her away one day.
    He, on the other hand, was well over six feet and heavily built from years of day labor.
    As such, with no husband or boyfriend yet, his sister always seemed to take comfort in hiding under his imposing shadow.
    "If that's the case," she would tell him. "You better keep me from flying away."
    A pang of guilt hit him as he looked down as his sister.
    God, he was going to miss her.
    "I was just thinking." he offered in response.
    "About your trip?"
    "Yea."
    "Yea." she echoed somberly. "Me too."
    That sat in silence for a minute. If he strained his ears, he could just make out the music from the Festival over the gentle breeze.
    "You okay?" he finally asked her.
    "Mmmhmm." she said with a small nod of her head as she gently nibbled on her bottom lip.
    "Come on, mali rotkvica. I know that look."
    Realizing what she was doing, she quickly stopped and pulled away slightly.
    "How long are you going to be gone for?" Miljenka asked quietly.
    "A few years. My contract is officially for five. One year to get there. Three years working. Another year back."
    She watched him, trying to muster a small smile but failing.
    "If you really think about it," he quickly added, "It's really only three. I'm getting paid two years salary to be asleep."
    Miljenka chuckled a little.
    "Only you could get paid to be so lazy, krumpir."
    "It's not like I'm going to go do real work." he shot back.
    They both laughed and leaned back onto the grassy hill, staring up at the slowly dipping sun. A few sparse clouds were drifting like torn cloth across the bright blue sky.
    "I wish it was only three." she said softly.
    "I know, mali rotkvica. I know. But Earth is running short on opportunities these days. Especially if you don't speak English or Chinese."
    "You know English." she shot back.
    "OR if you don't want to be some snob wearing a suit and handing out pink slips to actual hard workers."
    Miljenka shrugged at that and then sighed.
    "Mega corporations are dumb." she said.
    "Yeah." he agreed. "They are."
    They sat quietly for a few more minutes, simply watching the world drift by, when Miljenka finally pushed herself to her feet and stood up.
    "Well, come on." she said, the fire and steel that Karlo felt defined his little sister quickly seeping back into her. "If you gotta leave, we're not spending our last Festival in five years on some hill."
    He glanced from her back to Krapina in the distance.
    "Besides," she quickly added. "I'm sure mom and dad are wondering where we are."
    "Yea, alright." he said, reaching up to take her hand.
    Bracing to pull himself up, he took her hand, pulled hard, and tore her arm off.
    In surprise, Karlo just stared at the severed appendage in his hands. It was still gripping him tightly but it had come off clean at the shoulder. There was no blood. No sign of damage. It was just...not on her anymore.
    "Come on, Karlo." she insisted again and seemed to offer with an arm that was no longer attached to her body.
    He stared at her and then at the limb.
    The hand was twitching. Grasping.
    "Karlo?" Miljenka asked, a look of confusion on her face.
    She seemed completely unphased by the fact she was missing her arm. Or that he was currently holding it and that it seemed to be trying to grab at him.
    "Karlo?"
    The hand was moving. It was grabbing and crawling up his arm. Going for his throat.
    His sister was smiling reassuringly.
    He tried to throw the thing away. To pull it off of him. To get away.
    "Karlo?!"
    He screamed, tearing at the monstrous thing on him. The piece of his sister. It had moved up his arm past his shoulder while she just stood there smiling. Its fingers were closing around his neck and...
    "KARLO?!"
    Karlo shot up in the chair screaming. The room was dark and musty and a bay of computer screens in front of him showed nothing with the exception of a command line on one and a text messaging box in another.
    The last messages were frantic.

    Hello?
    Are you there?
    What's going on?
    Hey? Karlo???

    "Come on Karlo! Answer me please!" the panicked voice of Dr. Lethe came through over the loudspeaker.
    She sounded like she was sobbing.
    "Yeah, yeah. I got it." he said to no one in particular

    I'm here. he sent to her.
   
    "Oh god! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou." he heard over the speaker; quickly followed by, "What the hell just happened?"

    Turn off the mic. he typed.

    In response, there was an audible click and the microphone static cut out above him.

    What was that? she demanded.
    I don't know. I guess I fell asleep.

Survivors - Part 2

    Cisneros felt as if he was frozen in place.
    His muscles were locked and some baser part of his mind had kicked into overdrive. Despite the triple-state glass and a well manicured sense of superiority, some instinctual piece of him froze in terror.
    "What-?" was all he managed.
    In front of him, behind the seemingly too-thin safety glass, a monster lay across a massive surgical table.
    No.
    Not one surgical table.
    Several of them. All hastily thrown together to form some semblance of a flat surface where the scientists could work.
    The creature was quite large. At least a couple meters tall and several meters long not counting the muscular tail, it could easily rival some of the large African species of Earth. However, unlike those more benevolent herbivores, this ting was designed for carnage.
    Four heavy set legs with taloned feet were curled up under its dead frame. Long, sickle like blades sprouted from thin but powerful looking 'arms' from its thick torso. Its eyes were covered in heavy ridges and everything about its head seemed to slope into a gaping jaw filled with multiples rows of shark-like teeth. And the entire thing was covered in hulking plates of black, chitinous armor that looked like they could stop an rocket.
    Men and women in lab coats poked and prodded at the corpse, but despite a sneaking fear that the monster would arise and attack them all, it laid silent upon its bloody table.
    "What-" Cisneros began again as he mentally rebuilt his composure. "-is it?"
    "We don't know." Dr. Patang responded apologetically. "We've never seen anything like it."
    "What do we know about it?" he asked without looking at the good doctor.
    Cisneros studied the thing for a long moment. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.
    "We're still working on an official analysis."
    Cisneros glanced over and the Doctor who visibly cringed a little. He considered throwing his weight and demanding a better answer of the little asskisser, but thought better of it.
    "Humor me."
    "Apparently the team was getting odd results. I've been with you so I haven't seen the most up to date..."
    Cisneros sighed and continued to watch the men and women work.
    "Dr. Hagashi must have been out of his mind." he commented with a hint of annoyance.
    "Sir?"
    "I just can't imagine why they would have brought this thing aboard. I don't doubt it was an exciting find, but look at it."
    As if in response, Dr. Patang joined him in staring at the mound of terror.
    At the same time, the door on the far end of the room slid open and a short, lump of a woman clad in a white lab coat emerged.
    "I mean, that thing looks like it could tear a squad of marines in half without breaking a sweat. Why in the hell would they take it aboard? Why not study it on the surface? Or tag it for later examination by a more qualified team?"
    "Perhaps-" the woman interjected. "-because it wasn't that size when they acquired our little friend in there."
    Cisneros glowered at the woman's interruption but his expression quickly softened.
    "Samantha." he said with a smile.
    "Armando."
    "I wasn't aware you were on this project." Cisneros regarded.
    "Then you probably aren't doing a good job as Assistant Director." she chided with a playful grin.
    "Dr. Connel." Patang said with respect to the woman. "With all due respect, what do you mean? Are you suggesting it grew within a matter of hours?"
    "In one sense."
    Both men continued to stare at her, expecting more.
    "Tell me, Dr. Patang, how would you classify that creature in there?" Dr. Connel asked.
    Dr. Patang considered for a moment.
    "I'm not sure. It definitely appears to be carnivorous in nature. Omnivous at the absolute least."
    "And the genus?"
    "Demented centaur?" Cisneros offered.
    Samantha giggled and Cisneros allowed himself a smile at his old friend's amusement.
    "What if I told you that it was parasitic?" she asked after a moment.
    Cisneros stared at the monster sprawled across the operating tables. Considered the sheer size of the thing.
    "You're saying that creature in there is some sort of a parasite? For what? What the hell would it feed on?"
    "That is not the primary organism. I was referring to this."
    Dr. Connel produced from her jacket pocket a small glass jar about the size of a nectarine. She held it up to the light and it was clearly filled with some sort of blood. It was a nice deep red with the exception of several dozen large, black globules that floated around in the viscous liquid.
    Cisneros stared at the goo, trying to identify the shapes in the blood. It was only after a long moment that he realized the globes were creatures.
    "So this is our culprit?" Cisneros asked with burgeoning fascination.
    Here and there, one of the globes would unfurl into a small, worm like creature. Their appearance reminded him of the beast on the table, nothing but hard bits and sharp edges, but on a notably smaller scale and resembling a half inch caterpillar.
    "Indeed. I think the team from the Icarus found these things on the surface and didn't know what they had until it was too late.
    Before his eyes, one of the worms unfolded and zipped around the blood jar at a surprising speed. It swirled about for a few seconds and, finding no exit, curled up on itself again.
    Cisneros glanced back again at the monster on the table.
    "So tell me, Dr. Connel: what do those-" he said pointing a finger at the jar. "-have to do with that?" he motioned over his shoulder.
    "I'm so glad you asked." she responded with a surprisingly threatening smile and motioned towards the door to the lab. "Let me show you."

Survivors - Part 1

    Blip. Blip. Blip.
    Assistant Director Cisneros stared absent-minded at the acrid liquid as it dripped, drop by drop, down into his mug. The local crony here, Dr. Patang, had tried to convince him that this was this was the best cup of joe on the Daedalus.
    While Cisneros didn’t doubt the good doctor’s honesty; the little brown-nosing tool was too self-interested to not give full disclosure. However he did doubt that the liquid shit dripping out of the archaic machine counted as coffee.
    And he damn sure knew it didn’t smell like it.
    Cisneros glanced around the room as he waited for the stinking drink to finish brewing.
    All around him, cheap furniture, bad walling, dirty carpet, or gunmetal plating. Here and there an uncomfortable chair sat or a half-assed painting hung on the wall; really retracting from the environment more than they gave. It gave him the feeling of being in a lower-end office that had been shoved into a metal box.
    And really, it wasn’t far from the truth.
    Built cheap and built big, the Daedalus was one of two floating laboratories utilized by the corporation’s Xenobiology department. It housed just over two thousand biologists, botanists, chemists, computer experts, robotics technicians, and god knows what else plus the staff and crew that kept the entire dump heap in the air. It wasn’t the fastest or nicest ship in the galaxy, but with her sister, the Icarus, the pair of ships were some of the biggest and probably some of the only used as mobile laboratories and processing cities.
    At least until a month ago.
    Now the Daedalus flew alone in its lazy orbit around the Kaprelli system’s deep violet sun surrounded by the silence of space.
    Cisneros reached down and plucked up the now full mug. He took a swig only to grimace at the sour flavor. It tasted just about as good as it had smelt and, based on the look of shock and horror on Dr. Patang's face, he was glad his distaste with the drink was not lost on the good doctor.
    "I'm so sorry, sir." he quickly shot out. "I swear, it really is the best on the ship. The company doesn't really consider fresh cups to be pri-"
    "Enough, Doctor." Cisneros said flatly. "You'll forgive me if I tell you that I'm not in the mood right now."
    "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Dr. Patang said as he adorned that same, placid, stupid smile he'd worn since Cisneros arrived eight hours ago.
    "I don't have a great deal of time." Cisneros continued in the same, no-bullshit tone. "So why don't we get this little tour started so I can get on with a very long list of other things that need to get done."
    "Of course, sir." Dr. Patang repeated again and motioned towards the door of the grimy little kitchen.
    The pair made their way through the halls of the Daedalus at a leisurely pace as Dr. Patang prattled on about meaningless inanities. Cisneros could not care less. His visit here was far from routine and he had no interest in listening to small talk.
    He wanted to hear about their findings.
    Of course, it was probably sheer confidentiality that was keeping Dr. Patang from prattling on about that. Still, Cisneros had a lean in his step and they made their way towards the C-Deck labs with more speed than any other visit would have been afforded.
    The mystery of Icarus's destruction the prior month had nagged at him since it happened. And now he might get some answers.
    Originally, it came as a complete shock. The ship had just performed a relatively routine stop to a newly discovered world known as 'Bruni'. The planet was mildly interesting for the fact it was, by all intents and purposes, considered a jungle planet despite its severe climate; prone both to blistering heat and destructive electrical storms.
    Within a matter of hours from the stop, an SOS had been issued from the Icarus.
    An hour after that, the ship was flown directly into a sun with a very small contingent of its population escaping in lifeboats.
    The incident had bothered Cisneros for the month since it had occurred. Now, with several of the life boats captured and brought aboard the Daedalus, his curiosity was peaked as to what the scientists had discovered.
    Most notably because there hadn't been any reported survivors so far.
    So whatever they had found clearly wasn't human. Or, at least, not living ones.
    Dr. Patang offered a single open eye to the scanner next to the C-Deck air locks while simultaneously holding a thumb to a reader and a badge to a scanner. C-Deck, like a number of the locations on the Daedalus, was high security and set up with multiple security points. Additionally, the labs were completely sealed off from the rest of the ship in what was, for lack of a better analogy, a steel box with a single airlock that led into the ship primary.
    This fact only added to Cisneros' surprise when the heavy lead and steel door slid aside to reveal four hardskinned marines standing at attention, rifles ready, standing in the four corners of the inner airlock.
    He glanced at Dr. Patang with an obvious look of surprise.
    "We have...concerns." the doctor said flatly, dropping the cheerful, tour-guide tone he'd been using since Cisneros arrived.
    Cisneros' eyes narrowed but he said nothing. As much of a brown-nosing little shit as Dr. Patang had been, the presence of marines suggested they had found something much more exciting than a few corpses in a lifeboat.
    The two men submitted to a thorough search and ID by one of the marines; a man who identified himself as Sergeant Holmes. They were then led to the next room: a hastily thrown together decontamination room that the inner airlock would have normally been used for had it not been filled with combat armor and firearms.
    Once deloused, they both made their way down a long hallway lined by observation chambers.
    "Now that we're out of ear shot, would you care to share what exactly your team found on the life boats, Doctor?"
    "We're not sure." he said, once again adopting that slight lit to his voice again, but not nearly to the degree he had been earlier.
    "You're not sure?" Cisneros echoed after rolling the possibilities about in his mind.
    "Whatever they are is biologic. But after that, it's unlike anything we've found before."
    Cisneros said nothing as he was led through a maze of corridors. He could see scientists working in labs on any number of different experiments; however Dr. Patang shot right by them.
    At the far end of one hall, the Doctor approached a heavy door labeled 'XL-322". Directly below it. "Restricted Personnel Only." and a keypad. The Doctor entered in an unseen code, scanned his badge again, and motioned for Cisneros to enter.
    They were standing in the viewing area of an operating theater with a door on the far end of the room. The glass was artificially dimmed and Cisneros suddenly had a fleeting sense of claustrophobia in the dark room.
    "This is all well and interesting, Doctor. But can we can on with the theatrics?"
    "Sorry, sir. As I said, sir. We're not sure what we found." Dr. Patang continued as he raised the lights and revealed the laboratory behind the triple-state glass and the monster within.
    Cisneros took an unconscious step back from the now clear glass.  
    What the hell WAS that?
    He felt his heart jump into his throat and, for the first in a very long time, he felt a sudden wash of fear fall over him.
    "But if you've got any ideas..." Dr. Patang said with the first snark the Assistant Director had heard from him, "We're all ears."