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ENDO: an Extraordinary yet Non-Defined Organism

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posted on Nov, 23 2009 @ 03:43 PM
Part One including introduction and background notes

Background notes

In 2055 the majority of the Earth’s population departed from the planet to disperse throughout the universe in vast, often crudely constructed, spaceships; to find other planets with atmospheres suitable for terraforming. Sadly, from 2055 to the present year of 2769, no such world has been discovered.

Many lives have been lost in this selfish pursuit, but what remains of the Human race is adamant, hell bent even, with the idea that somewhere in the universe there revolves a potential breeding ground for us. In the seven hundred years of questing, the people have faced a copious amount of health issues; the direct results of living in reasonably extreme darkness without a regular supply of sun light and Vitamin D.

Without the UV rays from the sun, people lost the pigmentation in their skin, creating a Troglobotic race in the depths and darkness’s of space. Bone deficiencies are also not uncommon, most notably Rickets; and, another result of an absence of UV light and Vitamin D, severe skin trouble- generally the flaking of it, in the same manor as dandruff. This is not recognised as a skin problem however, just an ordinary feature of the human form. Also any slight colouration in ones hair would be seen as beautiful and special, as everyone has white hair. Ten strands of red or ginger hair amongst a thousand white ones for instance, would give that person the radiance of that oh so rare of splendours: the sun. Eyes have also grown to an immense size when compared to the eyes of the Earth dwellers, four times the size in fact; and, because plentiful denseness of the artificial oxygen, lungs have decreased in size.

Colours and sounds are limited, with only scraps of books for reading and reference, and the odd treasured vinyl or CD; even cassettes: hence the face that any musical note or splendidly decorated scenery that they may encounter seems like the most brilliant of sights. Death is also not seen as something to despair over, but rather the course of a life; and because children are not brought up by their parents, they know no love except that which they have for their friends: anyone else is seen as another human being, but not part of the ‘group’.

Finally religion has been entirely superseded by the scientific beliefs that originated when people walked the Earth; in fact the word ‘God’ and the idea of ‘Adam and Eve’, 'David and Goliath' and other such stories have been lost with time.

[edit on 23-11-2009 by Ramadwarf Philes]

[edit on 23-11-2009 by Ramadwarf Philes]

[edit on 23-11-2009 by Ramadwarf Philes]

posted on Nov, 23 2009 @ 03:44 PM
“An ‘Extraordinary but Non-Defined Organism’ (ENDO for short) was what we faced whilst journeying through the ever mysterious landscape of the universe. Even now, three months after the limb numbing terror of the creature’s frighteningly speedy prevalence over a crew of nine hundred and sixty three people- four hundred of those being men at the peak of physical health, all of whom were born inside the very vessel (as was I), wherein most of this story’s events shall take place- I am a tremulous wreck of a man.

After the environmental destruction of our old planet the only way forward was up. We (I say we, but my great grandparents were not even thought of when this was achieved) tried terraforming the neighbouring spheres of our galaxy; but it proved catastrophic to the various atmospheres that encased Earth’s fellow orbs, ceasing the idealistic thoughts of a more naïve generation. This meant ships of massive proportions needed to be constructed for the long and laborious journeys throughout the ever impenetrable infinity beyond. The reason? To find worlds with the potential to become Humanity’s next breeding ground. I wish to Einstein that I hadn’t been conceived- that my parent’s parents hadn’t given life to those that had passed the burden down to me- but what will I achieve in doing this?

I have seen ENDO and the way he milked his victims of all but a nonsensical chattering of shrivelled, flaking teeth; and thoughts that kept not with the flock of decency but strayed into a pack of animals despairing for individual survival. How could I describe it? I can’t- as a matter of fact I could not do so even as my eyes first absorbed its haunting features in the glare of a distant fire. I will now tell you the story that has replaced all other items in my fairly young memory. This is the story of ENDO, the ‘Extraordinary but Non-Defined Organism’.”

[edit on 23-11-2009 by Ramadwarf Philes]

posted on Nov, 23 2009 @ 03:58 PM
Part One: A remarkable presence

My name is Alan Donald Arnold Manning. I was born on the very ship to which I was bound to in the multi-dimensional wasteland of the universe for the duration of my life- until now of course. Twenty four years ago, in the room wherein I slept and woke, the event of my birth took place. Adults came and went with time, barely getting to know us, so I never knew what it was to be unconditionally loved; although, as our growing lives lacked that which we did so painfully crave, my friends and I grew closer than any family- or so I thought.
It is, as I believe I have mentioned, about a week back, maybe two, where my story must begin.

Five of us were seated in the cafeteria, surrounded by tables, the surfaces of which were caked in an odious mixture of soap and grease that had congealed with time, and we were devouring the bland remnants of old meals; all of which had been consumed by us and the rest of the population three times prior. I, as usual, found myself sitting between two childhood friends: Lubin Hayes, the tallest of us, his broad shoulders helping to distinguish him from any other crew member, as did his unusually high check bones and always dewy eyes; and Martin Fitzgerald, not a vertical behemoth, but exceptionally wide and well rounded, with the darkest skin I have ever seen. Jonathan Quinn had also resumed his usual position next to a fixation of mine, Evelyn Applegate, and he sat hunched over his food, his retracted shoulders were as close to his neck as possible and his stringy silver hair soaked into the more liquid parts of the meal before him. Eve on the other hand couldn’t have looked more graceful; her flaming red hair caught the emanations from every light in the room and shimmered like a blood-red sun, the freckles on her cheeks reflected the beauty of the ruby encrusted strands of inescapable seduction and revolved around the two blue eyes, each fragmented with yellow and red streaks and surrounded by centimetre long red eyelashes, like a psychedelic pattern, dowsing me in steaming ice and soft lunar rays.

“It’s been a while since we got out of this place, eh Alan?” My concentration couldn’t have been further away from the happenings of this particular mealtime as my attentions clung to Eve harder than the unsightly globular substance held onto the surface of the table around which we were seated.
“Oh, no- yes, I think it’s about time we, uh, we found somewhere to visit.” Martin asked me if I was alright and I just laughed and adjusted my self a bit before continuing to eat.
“You know,” began Martin, “if we are successful one day, we will be responsible for the continuation of our species.” His voice literally shook with optimism.
“Martin, Martin if nine generations couldn’t do it, what makes you think we will?” asked Lubin, apparently bored with his food and the serenity of the conversation.
“It has to happen some time, doesn’t it?” Martin replied, the optimism fast turning to excitement.
“Not necessarily,” I began, “there might not be a place in existence that could support us through means of terraforming. Also it wouldn’t take long for us to adapt to that environment, after a few generations we’d probably become a totally different species. And I’ll bet you anything that if we do find somewhere, it’ll already be inhabited. I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy wiping out a planet’s worth of life.” My comment wasn’t agreed with as I had hoped and I decided to keep quiet for the time being.
“Well, I personally believe that we have the right to continue on living. Alan I couldn’t care less about anything else.”
“Edgar, you’ve been on edge since you went colour blind. However I do agree with you.” Said Lubin. I shook my head and, out of frustration, stabbed the gelatinous mass in my bowl with the fork. I couldn’t win this, I was the only one at the table with my thoughts and that was that. Little did I know at that point how right Martin was to be so excited about being the first to find that which our species craved.

I can remember it well, the seven of us surrounded a television screen and stared as the ship approached a distant sphere. I can’t describe it, but somehow we all shared the same feeling: that this may be IT. The orb hovered there, almost calling to us, luring us to it’s menacing potential. As always a select few individuals would study the externality of the suspended sphere, and another would have to physically examine it; that would be the seven of us.

From the outset the place looked as baron and uninteresting as anywhere else we had visited; but once we had passed that chalky brown smog in our little craft, we abandoned any preconceptions that we had of what waited for us. The seven of us, I especially, marvelled at the colourful terrain; though we may as well have been colour blind like Edgar as these tones were unknown to us. I feared Martin had gone insane at the mere sight of these colours (I use the word ‘colour’ sparingly: I don’t feel I have the right to name something I know not a name for) as his eyes darted from one point to the next, and they bulged so wide I couldn’t tell whether they were in his head or out.

“Look at the colours…” he breathed, “What are they?”
“Martin, it might be best if you dont stare at them like that.” Jonathan said, his voice firm with concern, “Things like that have been known to send people mad, or physically debilitate them somehow.” Edgar shook his head, several frowns traversing the plane of his ageing brow as he did so,
“Like how?” he asked Jonathan.
“Well, he might go colour blind. I mean our eyes aren’t used to picking up what’s out there, and to put our eyes through such a strain might permanently damage them.”
“It doesn’t bother me, I can’t see these ‘colours’ you speak of anyway.” The conversation died and we all stared at the television screen, taking in the wondrous sights outside.

posted on Nov, 23 2009 @ 04:01 PM

Once out of the craft we could appreciate the surreal beauty of the scene; but now that I look back, the features of the terrain itself were no different to anywhere else- it was the colours that turned that oh so mundane of designs into a spectacularly dazzling landscape. Edgar complained that we were all fools because of his physical inability to enjoy this sight as we could, but now I cannot recall those varied colours, nor can I compare them with any that are known; because, I suppose, they were so different to anything else I had witnessed.

It didn’t take long for the trance to be broken. Not too far off, under the lowest lying cloud, two perfectly erect spires were standing; though what they were attached to was concealed under the grainy earth. We walked quite a distance, taking in the sights of our surroundings from the insides of our suits via the small television screens. We didn’t have windows to look through, not on the helmets or on the ship. This was due to the fact that they increased the risk of depressurisation. One thing I worried about were those clouds above us, each one rumbling and rolling across the sky of solid atmosphere, like the contents of a lava lamp; frequently erupting with colourful electricity. The external examination showed that, from the ground to the beginning of that thick atmosphere was a healthy 98 miles of space; and the thickness of the atmosphere was exactly 123 miles- hence the twenty six hours it took to descend. Luckily the turbulence didn’t leave any of us with injuries; though I now know just how dangerous it could have been.

Once our party arrived at these towers, however, we knew that a ship, at least ten thousand times smaller than ours, was buried there. Three and a half hours of digging passed before we unearthed a hatch nestled in between the pair of metal erections, something that we began prying open to the best of our abilities. Nerves began to set in as we did so, as did an extremely uncomfortable sense of foreboding; as though we were meant to know not to do this through some premonitory vision. An echoing shatter, as though the air itself had been smashed to pieces, penetrated my extraneous hearing gear and invaded my ears in a digitised and amplified form before a cloud of heavy laying steam blew up and obstructed my sight for a considerable number of minutes. I can remember crystals forming on my screen before dissipating into an atmosphere unfriendly to its artificial qualities (meaning the cloud could only have been artificial oxygen). Once the ghost had disintegrated I saw on the right Lubin Hayes, and to my left squatted Evelyn Applegate: the molten core of a primordial desire yearning to be fulfilled.

The fog had, instead of floating up to those unsightly brown clouds, fallen to the earth ground, the porosity of it allowing total absorption; and in its wake it left behind a white residue, not unlike that which the late arachnids would tentatively construct in their tanks. Still, gone was the obstruction, so into the craft we ventured. Dark was this place- understandably so of course; and clasped tightly in our hands, as though for dear life, were the instruments of illumination.

From what I could see the walls were rusting and flaking like our skin, and the pent up air had formed cyst like growths on various parts of the ceiling. Nothing of importance found itself in our spot lights for quite some time and I could hear my party speculating on the age of the ship and how long it had been ground stricken; the latter sending a chill down my back so cold that my spine writhed like a snake. Suddenly my countenance changed for the worst as my eyes beheld, in the light from my own torch, a room full of broken bones. This sight was indeed one of the worst I had had the misfortune to see, but what was worse was the condition of these bones: none of them, be they skull, forearm or femur, was devoid of disfigurement. Each one seemed to have been either scratched by an implement such as a knife (evidently to break into the marrow), or, if I dare think it, gnawed on by human teeth.

Only four of us entered this room as that was all the bone yard had enough space for. As you would imagine, with the skeletons of five people strewn randomly across a floor space measuring 10ft by 7, clear patches were scarce- and even if we stood on the little clear patches we would hear the cracking of the bones’ powdery residue; but thank goodness we were not permitted the ‘luxury’ of smell in these outfits as I am sure it would have weighed our lungs down to our stomachs, drowning them in the digestive juices. In the farthest corner, Lubin squatted by the only skeleton that was intact. It became apparent that this was the skeleton of he who had pulled the corpses of five people apart; he who had gnawed on their bones to intake the last scrap of edible tissue; he who had scraped through the bone itself for the marrow within. So horrible were the mixture of this terrible truth and the composition of the image before us that I had to walk from the grounded craft to the brightly lit surface of the world to which we had stumbled. The light came not from any sun as the atmosphere was too thick, instead it was the lightening that illuminated the place.

“This is not a reflection of the planet,”, Edgar began, “but of humanity.” Thinking these words over in my head like I did upon hearing ‘2+2=4’, I realised that my sudden loathing for the planet was uncalled for given the trigger of these emotions.

As if the sight of colours unknown to me was not enough, a sound flooded the landscape and the interior of my suit. I’d never heard a sound like it and feared I might go def- not because there was anything malicious about it, but it was so beautiful and of a note not classified by our species. Would it be ‘H’? It was with this wondrous thought that my white eyes fell on a shimmering mass of silky smoke as it wafted up to the churning sky; each strand of the spiritual form made luminous by the random shards of jagged light. Before I knew it the thing was gone, dispersed, no doubt, into that expansive brown sky. Suddenly a thought occurred as I recalled the way in which the mist from the spaceship had fallen and sunk into the ground. Why was that aloud to float away when it should have been bound to the grainy earth? The gravity was obviously a force to be reckoned with, but was it?

posted on Nov, 23 2009 @ 04:02 PM

We had no trouble at all traversing the surface of the world, in fact it was like walking on air. Oh if I had known then what I do now I would have informed the others of a presence far greater than any we had encountered before, this was my first encounter with the ‘Extraordinary but Non-Defined Organism’, but would not be my last.

Phew, thankyou, hopefully to be continued.

posted on Nov, 24 2009 @ 10:27 AM
Part Two : Sunken Dreams

From recent scientific findings scientists discovered that if a creature has a will to survive of a strength of 50 Neurogens+ it will survive, regardless of the physical condition. A Neurogen is, as I am sure you are aware, the way scientists now measure brainwaves: on average people’s emotions are as strong as 3 Neurogens+; but of course this can be heightened, and lowered, depending on the circumstances. People’s minds have, in the past, left a lifeless corpse behind and disappeared into the cosmos, and some have even, for a limited amount of time, brought animation to their corpse. Apparently back on Earth this never would have happened because the atmospheric conditions were just right to allow the process of life and death, but nothing more; whereas on a space craft, where the artificial air is a flawed copy of the original (speaking comparatively of course), the continuation of life through means other than the physical is possible.

That day our group returned to the ship with the news of our discoveries, and we were applauded with many an excited laugh as we verbally illustrated that breathtaking majestic scenery and the ‘odd’ atmospheric conditions. By this time I had forgotten all about the ghostly slick I had witnessed disappear into the sky, but it was a forgettable event given how the place we visited was, to us, wholly unknown and entirely unexplored. However the decision had been made, by those whose job descriptions involved working from the safety of the ship, to remain stationary above the planet for further testing in order to discover whether the planet was habitable; and although the preliminary examinations told us this was not the case, terraforming might change that sooner rather than later.

Later on, in the privacy of my room, I tried in vain to recall the colours that mesmerized me so; though I could do no such thing as my head knew only the colours of the ship’s interior and certain planets I had learned to look extensively at from the youngest of age after birth. So frustrating was this impossible task that I rolled onto one side, closed my eyes, and thought about Evelyn instead. Now there was something I could recall- and very easily too.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, not being able to think upon where I had been; but one thing remained fresh from that trip: the room of bones. I thought of Evelyn and soon enough she would be standing in that room, writhing on the floor, her body’s movements pushing the grey objects around like toys, her hair turning white with that horrible residue before allowing herself to be caressed by the remains of a former monster.

That was it, I could do no more fantasising. I would have to sleep and let my mind wander, but where would it wander and after whom would this neurological stroll be following? Evelyn? My old friend Lubin? Or that skeleton; that skeleton when those bare bones were once wrapped in sinews and pale flesh; whose mind still festered in that head like a swarm of hungry parasites in his cannibalistic heyday. What sort of vile creature could commit such an act of sickening horror? Especially a human being, but isolation and fear can do things to people, strange things at times. “Evelyn,” I stared at the silver protuberance that should have been fixed (by me admittedly) as its jagged head stuck out from the metal frame around my alcove bed; just willing me to injure myself on it. “Evelyn…”.

Suddenly I jumped as a hand gently touched my right thigh. On came the lights and I scanned the room thoroughly for life. I could see nothing that was not there before and the wild palpitating of my heart began calming down. It must have been the beginning of a dream as I parted from the world I know, entering into another world, one that I am far more intimate with; but that is not to say I’m comfortable with it. I began the journey from my wall bound bed to the taps, opposite in position and quality, but, right hand outstretched, I stiffened when I heard a rustling from behind. It was from the door in fact. Carefully edging over to the door, wondering why I felt so insecure when the source of this noise must have been someone that I was familiar with, and I called out “Hello?”. Irritated by their lack of verbal I called out again, this time more assertive, but yet nothing came back.

To the door I went, my fingers clutched the knob and twisted, my whole composure returning to normality as I swung the door back and took a solitary step out into the corridor. I found myself illuminated by black light and caressed by invisible frozen hands, but I had walked into as much company as my solitary step; taken with an ease that soon morphed into trembling despair. I turned, my eyes on my feet, for I felt disorientated with the speed of it all. I closed the door behind me without even looking. Suddenly my sloppy gaze found another pair of feet; they were slenderer than those to which I usually saw, but above all they were not connected to my legs.

posted on Nov, 24 2009 @ 10:31 AM
Part Two : Sunken Dreams CONTIN

The realisation that these feet belonged to Evelyn Applegate raised my eyes aloft to her body’s beautiful curvature before climbing each individual strand of her lava-thick hair to reach her utterly unique and above all beautiful facial features. She smiled and began to back away from me, moving of course towards the alcove bed. I followed in her wake cautiously for I was still unaware of why these events were transpiring- but all I could think of was the vacuum of a breathless kiss and how soft certain segments of her body would be under the groping of my ever curious appendages. The more I thought about what I could do to her the quicker I walked, and wondered; would her hair be as hot to physical feeling as to the sense of sight? Would gazing into her eyes in the dim purple light of the room be as powerful as a closed eye vision wherein I am falling from the highest floor of an elevator shaft? Would her wavy form be as soft as my fingers and hands inform me when I feel her in a fantasy? And would her excuse for femininity be as penetrable and moist as I have been led to believe by a mind contaminated by that which must be sent in to carry out the crucial examination of discovery and all of the most primordial endeavours through the gate to paradise and the future lives to come?! Too much coal had been shovelled into the stove of my imagination and the train of thought broke free from the tracks at the first corner, speeding to the runway of realisation. She hoisted herself up and sat on the edge of the frame, her luminous slender legs hanging down; her feet pointing towards the carpet in the humming glow of the purpley- blue lights.

To her I walked until she could wrap her naked legs around my waist. I then dropped to my knees and brought my lusting mouth down to the life giving void betwixt her legs. Evelyn let herself fall back prior to widening the space I had at my disposal. Soon her knees where bent over my shoulders and I could feel her heels beating gently against the base of my shoulder blades. When I placed the ten bony appendages on her legs I knew something was amiss. I moved my face to the right and saw something that was as mind boggling as it was horrific: my pale hand was sinking into her flesh very slowly, as if the flesh consisted of caramel.

The same was happening on the other side as well and before I could wrap my head around this unparalleled oddness the sighing object that was seemingly absorbing my physicality placed her sleek hands on the back of my head and I was thrust down into the triangular patch of fiery hair before me- thus my face disappeared and all I can remember is the sight of beige skin that wasn’t skin as I knew it, and I soon reached the layer below of purple muscular tissue and blood; though I am sure the sight from the outset would have been far more entertaining and I can imagine my flowing white mullet looking like a mass of wild pubic hair on Evelyn. Suddenly my hands reached hardness and I felt compelled to grasp it and pull. I wrapped my fingers around the bones under them and tugged as hard as I could, but the more I pulled on them the further my face sank, until the force of the tugging squashed my nose up against her pelvis and breathing no longer held any potential as a possible act of survival. I began pulling my head out, trying with so much might that I almost pulled my head from my body.

Suddenly I was free of that stuff; my hair was being weighed down to the point of pain with the heaviness of the toffee-like material, and a warm breeze swelled around my naked form like an organic force. I opened my eyes and saw a most horrific sight: sticking out from both of my fists were the bones of Evelyn’s legs. I dropped them and they turned to dust upon impact with the floor. When I looked up at Evelyn I didn’t know what to expect on my bed, but she was perched on the edge again, looking at me, smiling at me in adoration. Suddenly she inserted a hand into the opposite arm and pulled the bone from the centre, before wrenching out the next one; each falling and shattering. Before long I was stood in the bone yard on that planet, with the skeleton of that murderer dancing around me: it’s eye sockets haunting me for the sheer, impenetrable blackness of them; and it brought its teeth together again and again, its laugh sounding like static from a megaphone.

The next thing I knew I was laid out on the floor, immersed in the dark, sweating and crying, with a bloody gash spanning from my left shoulder all the way down to the knee of the same side. When I noticed that metal protuberance on the frame around my bed covered in blood, I knew that I must have fallen past the screw on my way down. I had told myself to fix that for this very reason. It was sore and the slight tingling soon grew into an insurmountable desperate pain.

Thankyou from Ramadwarf, part three should be on its way soon. Feel free to comment if you wish.

[edit on 24-11-2009 by Ramadwarf Philes]

posted on Nov, 25 2009 @ 09:36 AM
Part Three : Jonathan

Several hours later I found myself enjoying the sick bed to which I was bound by my ill health. The gash down my left hand side turned out to be very deep and I was having to recuperate from cardiac arrest; the doctor said it was brought on by the shock of the fall combined with the ferocious and rather amateur surgical cut- in future I shan’t seek medical attention from one with a screw loose. I personally felt it was brought on by the peculiar and terribly heart breaking vision of my resting.

Usually the recuperation facilities are immaculately clean, obviously this was an exception to the rule as what should have been a jet black and shimmering varnished floor did everything but shine and was not entirely black; the cabinet next to my bed seemed welded to the floor, only it wasn’t, it was surrounded by a fine, salt like substance; and, due to the sheer vastness of the room (it contained eight hundred single beds, a cabinet for each one, with various other objects of great medicinal value), there had to be a light for every ten beds, but many of them had ceased to function, drowning much of the room in darkness.

Throughout most of my time there absolutely nothing took place worth noting- in actual fact only one of the soft horizontal planes had the misfortune to spend three whole cycles occupied. It was near the end of my duration in the sickbed that everything erupted to life. The steel double doors that lead into the room swung open so fast that the sound of this violent action eruption a second later than the cause. I started up several degrees until I was seated at a 90degree angle; and this violent motion sent jets of electric pain through my veins, as if he pain were trying to swim away from the outlet of blood so as to keep my agony alive for as long as was possible.

In fact I thought I heard a stitch or several snap under the stress. As for what entered the room, well, that was of a different order to what I just described and induced a great sadness in me when I realised the form of this visual content before my dewy eyes. Being held down on a four wheeled table, writhing and wailing dementedly, was Jonathan Quinn. His eyes pulsed in their sockets and he had a strength that didn’t match his scrawny features as he fought the hands of five men and the straps of the table. Despite the desperate agony shooting mercilessly through my most delicate anatomical parts, I could not divert my watering eyes from this worrying sight- though I didn’t want to do this; through concern of course. What I saw in his eyes when they fell on me for that brief moment was a complete and utter stranger; as was what he saw in me I am sure.

I could not begin to imagine what had done this to dear Jonathan; but, of course, I had already seen the cause. He plead and plead, freeing his hands effortlessly from the plastic straps that the Doctors continuously wrapped around them. Suddenly he leaped up on the bed, folded his arms, and began kicking his feet out in front of him whilst revolving on the spot. The Doctors watched him perplexedly for a moment before pulling him down and dragging him back through the arch above the double doors, and although he was gone, his cries stayed in the room with me.

End of Part Three

[edit on 25-11-2009 by Ramadwarf Philes]

posted on Nov, 26 2009 @ 10:07 AM
Part Four :The Residue of Terror

Four days later I was up from the bed (it should have been two, but I had to allow for the newly opened segments of the wound to heal) and, feeling compelled to find my friend, I searched for Jonathan in the psychiatric ward. Usually a stroll would be conducted in the most brisk of fashions; because of these crutches, however, it took quite a bit of time just exiting the recuperation room. One thing I remember noticing about that trip from floor four to floor thirteen was the lack of people accompanying me in the activity of walking. Not a soul did I see or even feel the presence of in an hour and a half.

To be brutally honest I had not waited for the nurse to set me free but had discharged myself; which may not have been the best thing to do given what happened the last time I moved unadvisedly. Feeling a bit off course on the psychological front I continued, but I could not forget that image of my friend as he laid there screaming and flailing his limbs around like a mad man- which, from what I saw, he had become. Oh but how? I thought. Something had lit him up with such power that his shadow, with the strength of the illumination, had absorbed what he was and I needed to know what the radiator of that metaphoric light was- or who it was. I knew the answer but the knowledge cried out from the most desolate, out of the way portion of my memories, thus it remained unheard.

I loathed elevators to an absolution, but the stairs were out of bounds to me in my condition; not to mention the panic that had gripped me over the last couple of days concerning the health of an old friend. I decided to put my dislike to one side and go, as efficiently as was possible, in an elevator (which is, unless you have mastered the art of travelling the stairs as I have, the most efficient way).

Damn it, thought I as I stood outside the brightly lit cubicle, it’s not as if it’s going to kill me. If I’m perfectly honest I hadn’t been in one in a numerous collection of years but the last time I travelled in one I did believe that I was destined to die; this I had forgotten as dormant memories need a stimulus to revive them, and going into that box was definitely a successful trip down memory lane. In I went, slowly, with the aid, of course, of my crutches; and at first, while the doors were open, I felt fine. However once they were closed it was an altogether different story. At first I felt hot and itchy, irritable if you will, but then those mild symptoms morphed into a hot, sweating brain and a pair of closing eyes. My arms felt constricted by something that I could not see and my knees locked in the position I had them; the muscle in my chest beat harder and harder, feeling as though it was increasing in mass with every beat until it thudded against the inside surfaces of my lungs, suffocating me slightly as it did so. Sweat began pouring from every pore on my pale flesh, weighing down my hair as in that torturous vision of my resting and finally the burning heat pressing against me became too much and I had to stop the elevator at the next floor for fear of death.

That was one of the most uncomfortable feelings of my life and I hoped to Hawking that nothing like it ever came to fruition in me again; but one cannot hope for things and expect them just like that. Suddenly all the discomfort was gone, it was erased from sensibility once I was out of that tiny little room and I searched frantically for the shiny black stairs so that I might embark on the journey in the same manor as I should have before. Given that I had to manoeuvre up the merciless steps with a pair of crutches I think I did very well falling over just twice, for I was expecting a trip most arduous.

This particular staircase stopped two floors below my destination, abandoning me on yet another floor totally void of life that swelled with an organic essence of unease. On my way to the next available flight of shoddily placed cinder blocks I began to hear noises that turned the very marrow within me to icy metal. These noises I speak of were comprised of agony induced moans from both sexes and all ages and there must have been over a hundred people in the corridor with me, but yet I could see them only through my minds eye. Every now and then a shriek of the highest note would cut through the bass-line wailing and the more I heard the tormented creatures the more I desired to know- to understand- what it was that was happening; but a measure equal to my thirst for knowledge was that of complete and utter terror and an almost unconditional want for my eyes to suddenly open, transporting me back to my bed without any physical deformities and just the fearful aftermath of a bad few hours rest. Unfortunately my hopes did not pass for reality and I soon found another set of oblong shapes that would lead me up to the aforementioned floor. These steps were not clearly visible and I felt the crunching of glass beneath my feet: a sign that one of our fiery friends had fallen foul to some despicable destructive force.

Despite the walls being constructed of metal, the stairs would often be made of concrete or wood; apparently this was the last ship constructed for extensive colonisation and towards the end of its making, materials necessary for it to be completed ran out and other things needed to be put to good use. Had I not learned that at a young age I don’t think I would ever have thought on the stairs being so different to the rest of the place.

Suddenly I felt myself falling through the dark. One of my crutches missed the desired step and I lost my footing. I instinctively grabbed for the hand rail to get some stability, but I still collapsed and it was my right side that bore the hardship of the fall this time.

After half an hour of struggling through the vertically structured darkness, whilst calming my self destructing heart, I reached the next floor and breathed a sigh of relief: I was only one more set of stairs away from the psychiatric ward. I slumped up against the nearest wall and, trying to convince myself that the exertion was worth it, I saw, on the opposite side of the corridor, a television screen. Half of the living image showed the right hand side of the ship, whilst the other half showed our potential future home- the planet wherein the cannibal and his naked victims remained buried.

posted on Nov, 26 2009 @ 10:12 AM
Part Four : The Residue of Terror - CONTIN

I wished that we could break free from the gravitational pull of that place as a sense of foreboding howled inside me, begging me to see the dangers that were to befall us; in particular me. I sat motionless and silent, transfixed by the screen- not even blinking; not taking my eyes off of the rotating brown Titan for a second.

The hundreds of heart breaking screams streamed through my ears, lulling me into a trance. The combination of the peaceful image and the harmonious melancholy echoing from above attempted to drown my sensibility as darkness drowns sight and sleep drowns reality. I felt the pressure of the noise tell on my temples, as though an invisible pair of thumbs were crushing my skull. Suddenly something happened on the screen: a wispy slick of mobile condensation emerged from the surface of the vessel like an electric fog; only to dissolve back into the shell. For a brief moment I remembered that sound and that singing cloud off in the distance on that planet- but Jonathan took priority, along with the other audible wailing entities; each of which I would be associated with somehow.

Finally I reached the desired floor, finding myself instantly in the thick of a situation that looked as dreadful as it was: Doctors and other people that I knew were either trying to clamp almost unrecognisable madmen and women onto tables and chairs, to inject them with sedatives and such like. I limped around on my crutches, peering over shoulders and around various animated body parts; trying with all of my curiosity to see who out of my associates and friends were helping and who had lost a mental battle that must have been raging in the macrocosms of their minds for an unbelievably extensive period of time. If this were true why had none in this room displayed symptoms of developing madness prior? Why had no one complained about things in their heads being amiss? If they had it could have been cured I would imagine. Some of the people strewn across random items of furniture in these rooms were close to me, but I had no idea that anything like this would overshadow their personalities in such a terrifyingly quick manor. Looking upon their wild visages was intolerable.

“Alan? What are you doing in here in such a physically debilitated state?”, asked Dr. Matthews in that rather bored tone that was typical of him, but it did suit his long, thin head and droopy lips well,
“Oh, I just got out of the recuperation room and I wanted to check on a friend of mine whom I saw in a state of animalistic rage a few days prior to this. Now that I’m here I see many friends of mine- all of which are suffering from the same symptoms as he that I mentioned: Jonathan Quinn. What’s going on?”. The doctor looked at me over the frame of his tiny glasses and sighed,
“Alan, I’d be lying if I said I knew.” The dismalness he displayed both audibly and physically irritated me no end and I needed to ask him many things that surely, from him, would not be answered satisfactorily.
“What does that mean?”, I began, “Is this like a disease? Or-”, he intervened,
“It is a disease of the brain, yes, though its cause is, as of yet, undetermined. You see I would have classed this as insanity brought on by the isolation of space travel, but, seeing as so many of the crew have come down with the same symptoms- such as irrational behaviour and hallucinations- I may have to put this down to an epidemic of some kind. Where it originated I don’t know, but I do know that each of these people are bound to ill health by the same disease.”, he paused and stared at me, as if to keep me in suspense, but I didn’t stay silent. I asked the question and he sighed: “The content of their hallucinations is exactly the same down to the last detail.”.
“And that detail?”
“A thin, drifting cloud of glistening smoke that emits a sound unlike any other and is surrounded by an aura of the purist evil.” With the sound of these words I felt my thin blood run down to my knees as though my heart had lost the will to pump anymore.
“Doctor,”, I began, “I too have seen-”, Suddenly Dr. Matthews was pulled back by the drooling muscular mass that once harboured the brilliant mind of Milton Burroughs- he was one of the technicians on board this hovering asylum and was responsible for the re-wiring of floor two. As other people grabbed hold of Milton in a vain attempt at freeing the Doctor a thought occurred: I was not mad, but yet I too had seen this smoke; so they had only gone mad because they could not stand the sight of the thing, not because of some disease or whatever. Dr. Mathews rose from the unconscious body of his attacker and brushed some spittle from his shoulder.

Not a glance did he manage to give me before that wispy cloud of silky smoke rose up from the floor and wrapped itself around him. I could not see what the doctor screamed of, or felt if indeed that was the stimulated sense, but I knew it was of the utmost horror. Everyone else in the room watched as intently as I but no one ran to Matthews’ aid and the next thing we knew his body had collapsed limply onto the floor and the mist dissipated into the ceiling; leaving behind a fine salt-like substance in its wake. Matthew’s expression was so pitiful, but still no one moved; not even to check if the Doctor still lived.

All of a sudden an uproar of rage and terror ensued and everyone in the room shouted and seemed to dance frantically about the place; bumping into each other, fighting amongst themselves and singing about how the creature did slay sanity in the weak. I found this sight extremely depressing to gaze upon, and if they were to be loosed on the ship who knows what might happen. I edged out of the room as stealthily as my limited physical prowess would allow before using the floor lock down button to safely keep the insane from the rest of the structure. What else could I have done? I asked myself on my way back down the stairs. I could have at least checked on those in that room who were close to me instead of leaving them there to squabble amongst themselves in fits of derangement- but I was going for help, and help is just what I went for. Nothing could be done for them now: madness is a permanent stain, the residue of the purest terror.

End of Part four, Part Five shall emerge shortly. Thankyou

posted on Nov, 27 2009 @ 01:53 AM
Hey ., Rammed wharf piles . epic read ! S&F

... and how am I ever going to sleep again ?

[edit on 27-11-2009 by radarloveguy]

posted on Nov, 27 2009 @ 10:34 AM
Part Five : Help

It took five hours to find the controls of the ship; a further one and a half to break into the room in which they were held; and another half to pre-empt what each knob, button and lever was for so that I would make no mistakes. What I wanted was to get the ship as far away from the planet around which we were bound; in the hope that that mist of terror would also be bound to that place and would have to leave us in peace- if that were the case I would be content to live alongside a thousand mentally crippled men so long as my sanity were left undisturbed by that force. The ship rumbled for a moment as I began tapping buttons and rotating dials, hoping that the vessel would obey my commands.

I looked around at the bundles of wires and how crudely they were held together by elastic bands in cyst-like bundles. Following the standard of the ship there were no windows, just a large screen showing the planet and the surrounding blackness. Before I was permitted the time to do anything to help our situation the door behind me came away from its hinges and about ten sweaty hands grabbed me in various places before levitating me aloft the plastic seat on which I had been sitting.

For a few seconds I made no effort to get away, but when the realisation of the situation dawned on me I waved my arms, scratching at anything with a physical presence, and kicked my legs out in all directions, crying out in panic curse words and threats: but those the words were aimed understood only that which they wanted- and was not necessarily the truth.

I felt the collision between one of my feet and something on the panel. The ship began to move. Before I could feel the relief of this, the control room disappeared from view to be replaced by wide eyed faces, all singing and hurling big, stringy lumps of saliva at each other as they did so. I should have known those doors wouldn’t be enough to stop them as their numbers were too great. Suddenly a deafening noise reverberated throughout the two miles of corridor and none of my assaulters paid any attention to the sound at all; they did, however, let me fall to the floor where upon I decided to lay for a few moments.

It was a good thing I did, because as quick as I landed, and that sound of stretching, snapping, tearing metal echoed about the place, a tiny rip appeared in the ceiling. The contents of the corridor, myself included, were sucked up to the hole. I struggled against the pull but it seemed I had a merciless haul ahead of me. I wasn’t sure that I had the energy to fight infinity's vacuum. My impossible task was made easier though as the others in the situation seemed not to care and just let themselves be picked up, as though willingly waiting for death. I took advantage of this and began pulling myself from the writhing mass of limbs. Pulling through these people felt like swimming through warm mud and everything slowed down, as though time was coming to a standstill. Their shouts and singing merged into one deep, booming noise in my ears; it was as though hot glue was being poured into my skull. I didn’t have long. As each second passed ten people were spread out like butter across the hot slice of toast that is space, which meant we would all be gone in a matter of seconds rather than a preferable sequence of minutes.

The suction weakened for a moment: something non-organic must have clogged the hole. This would not last very long: in fact, if the void desired us that badly it could easily rip the whole ceiling away; thus disposing of us in less than an instant. The pull gradually increased in strength and I felt my self lift slightly. Instinctively I flailed my limbs in random directions until I found something stable to clutch and cling to with all the might of my body. Suddenly I felt my belt tighten.

Jonathan, the aforementioned friend to whom a large amount of my concern and love was committed unconditionally, had grabbed hold of me in a desperate attempt at survival. I wondered if any of the old Jonathan remained, but I had no time to wonder so I loosened my belt and he fell away to join those that he belonged with on the ceiling. Oh the look on his face! Helpless and afraid, like a baby, he watched me before sinking into the organic, bowl-shaped object above. Every now and then I would see a face and the expression would change from boredom to painful shock before disappearing forever into the crowd and through that hole.

I might notice a hand hanging limply from the crowd; it would, no doubt, belong to someone who had been crushed under the pressure or suffocated; or the fingers would suddenly stiffen in pain as the remaining life left their body. I realised that I could not stay there watching and I began crawling along the pipe to which I clung until I reached an elevator- believe me I didn’t hesitate to enter this time. Once inside I remember curling up in the corner of the chrome box and crying.

My thoughts remained fixed on the emotionless countenance of Jonathan as he floated up into that cloud of lifeless, bleeding limbs and cracking keratin before being lost forever. Still, at least we were leaving the vicinity of the planet; even if depressurisation of some kind was tearing the ship to pieces floor by floor. I didn’t seem to be having any problems with the lift’s decent into the lower levels of the behemoth that was the ship; so I couldn’t tell how fast the process of consumption was taking; but it wouldn’t be long before we were all at one with each other and I had to get to Evelyn. Oh Evelyn, my sweet darling Evelyn… I needed her; I longed to free her from the confines of this place for as many moments as I could steal for us and I knew she wanted me to too. Once I found myself on her level I freed myself from the four walls of that box and stumbled through corridor after corridor. I felt a dizziness bubbling through my body from my sweating feet to my ears, hindering my journey through the miles of winding passages and identical arched doors. I could feel the walls trembling and, feeling compelled to do so, I began slamming my fists on random doors and screaming for my relatable as I went. A couple of figures rose from their slumber to greet me questioningly and I grabbed some of them to let me know of the whereabouts of Evelyn; at the same time I muttered about the impending doom of the ship falling apart but I don’t think they understood.

posted on Nov, 27 2009 @ 10:42 AM
Part Five : Help CONTIN

Suddenly, from behind me, as I aggressively interrogated someone standing in the arch of his doorway, I caught a glimpse of the ethereal soul and began running again. An alarm sounded and I happened to be a mere three feet from a loudspeaker as it erupted with high pitched life; the force of which knocking me to the ground and the more it rang in frustrating repetition the more my brain bubbled and boiled in my skull and I needed to get out and away to somewhere quiet and calm wherein I could be alone with my thoughts. People ran passed my writhing person but all they did was shoot at me pathetic glances. In an instant the corridor was as empty as those rolling eyes that were imbedded in the faces of those whose personalities had been overcome by insanity.

As I laid there, staring openly at the ceiling, that terrible mist began to rise around me from the floor; to trap me and murder me as it had doubtless done to so many people in the past. To my feet I leapt before leaving it behind as quickly as I could. From peering over my shoulder for a split second I saw that the gaseous entity was, to my discomfort, not only there but clearly there no matter how many turns I made; or doors I burst through. Where the people had gone was indeed a mystery to me. Maybe they were mending the damage above or maybe they two had lost their minds or been sucked out into the merciless infinity… Adrenaline took me over and I threw myself headlong into the next door I came to. The glass, arrowhead shaped portal shattered to pieces and I, along with the shards of frosted glass, plummeted into the shade of the room. I could see no longer- but at least I wouldn’t be able to see that immaterial fiend as it continued its murderous pursuit.

The space filled with light almost simultaneously to a shrill scream that reverberated from the tender chords of what could only have been a woman. It was, as I discovered upon raising my aching head, Evelyn; standing there, her red hair flowing as in my resting visions like a beauty-tamed fire. “Evelyn…” I spluttered. The look on her face was of utter confused horror. In an instant I had forgotten about the death cloud and my focus centred on the embodiment of perfection that was Evelyn. She on the other hand stood petrified at the sight of my deformed facial features, and I couldn’t blame her upon looking in the mirror, seeing with my own eyes how my skin was covered in gashes from the broken glass of the door. Despite this I could contain my desire no more and I moved closer. She didn’t resist me, perhaps frozen with the longing that animated me.

She shrieked in a pitch that cut into my already abused ears when I wrapped my right hand around her left wrist and caressed the arm to which the wrist extended from. Glassy splinters protruded from my palms and fingers as well as my face and after loosening the animalistic grip I had on her arm, at least twenty bright red gashes were revealed on it; from each one blood did spurt. I felt the vibrations through the floor as each drop of blood splashed there. She cried inaudible sounds at me, curling up slightly in the corner; gently caressing her wounded arm and sobbing.

“Evelyn, Evelyn dear it’s here!”, I muttered, my eyes shifting from place to place but never leaving her sweat visage. She partially furrowed her brow and questioned me, wherein I answered, “It, the creature of turmoil. I saw it, saw it shred the good and brilliant mindsets of over a hundred people and now it’s chasing me, trying to get into my head to ruin me too!”.
“What are you talking about Alan? Why are you behaving like this?”
“Like what? Come with me before it’s too late you must! Otherwise we shall meet the same fate as the others!”. Evelyn’s lower jaw dropped questioningly before she pushed passed me and departed from my company. I shouted after her and stumbled to the door, from which I watched her limp away, a trail of blood leading from the shattered glass on which I laid to her fading person. Suddenly, as I watched, the brooding white cloud appeared and surrounded me, obscuring my vision like the salty tears swelling on the edges of my eyelids; an abundance of which began streaming down my shoddily sliced face, merging and liquidizing further the outpourings of a hundred crying veins.

The ethereal creature spoke in the same manor as before when I heard it, but now the mysterious notes were hellish and violent; provoking in me the most basic of instincts- the instinct to survive and procreate with whom I believed it was my destiny to be with. Suddenly a face of incomparable horror pushed its way through the fog and unappeasable anger and sadness weighted the corners of its lips before it stretched and dispersed into the cloud from which it materialized. The sounds, though horrific, were mere lullabies when compared with that terrifying countenance that had just greeted me. Suddenly the combination of audible and visual were too much for me and I tried my hand at leaping up and running; but the thing had too much of a physical presence for my departure to be allowed. I could do nothing but watch this glistening white mist as it immersed me thereupon the floor against my will; and listen to an immense variation of notes, each sung to no particular rhythm or tune, but yet it was the most beautiful composition I had heard. It caressed my sound receptors like the moistest tongue with the softest breath, resonated between the fleshy walls of my ears, tickling my senses like the vibrations running through a tuning fork and echoed through every thought and memory in my absent mind with its tender, silky fingers. The realisation hit me that a physical examination of my brain was being conducted by this monster and I had to break free; but how could I when it was stabilising itself in there like a tree growing into the ground? I needed help, but how could I hope for this when everyone had to attend to the dissipating ship? I plead aloud for the ceiling to disappear as it had done before to rip me away from the existence I have grown accustomed to and tear me, limb from limb, atom from atom, so that I may finally be at peace.

posted on Nov, 27 2009 @ 10:45 AM
Part Five : Help CONTIN

What would become of me now? Would I end up like Jonathan? And so many of my other friends? Would I become insane? Thinking hurt, the probing mist of death pulled my mind to pieces and I knew not what its intentions for me were. I couldn’t, however, stop thinking. Suddenly I began to feel the glass deeply imbedded in my skin; the salt of my tears and sweat burning like acid into the many fleshy ravines. Eventually any remaining view points of the corridor were completely obscured by the mist and I knew then what it was like to be blind and to fear the extinguishing of my life coming to a head.

End of Part Five, the final part shall arrive tomorrow. Thankyou, once again, for your time

posted on Nov, 28 2009 @ 07:12 AM
Part Six (The Final Part) : Tucked Away

I could tell not how long the lights of consciousness had been out for, but I awoke in the bowels of the ship; my arms stretched out to the sides, each tethered to hefty pipes by heavy metal cables. My feet were not touching the ground, and they were bound not to my surroundings, but rather to each other. Before long the muscles in my arms began to ache and the intervallic dripping of water on my neck started to take its toll. I could hear rumblings and deep moans from above; the ship’s pleas for an end to the turmoil by which it had been engulfed. How for goodness did I end up here? I repeatedly asked myself, though no one replied. I tried successfully to recall my most recent memory and I shuddered. What had possessed me to act in such a barbaric manor to Evelyn and the various other crew members? I still do not know. The room in which I hung was almost totally devoid of illumination, save the eerie glow coming in from somewhere outside.

One thing I noticed was that there were real windows in this room, whereas throughout the rest of the ship and the manned probes it’s all electronic screens. In a way this was a treat for me as I can rarely associate an event from the past with windows- although I had just been fatally penetrated in a thousand places with glass. Suddenly my attentions were diverted to that that was visible through the glass panes and my heart sank. Off in the not so distant distance swelled the dark brown, now almost black, atmosphere of that horrible planet. Branches of lightening cut through the black of the surrounding void in intervals of three seconds and they varied in colour from blinding white to the bluest of purples and I noticed that the gravity from this distance was weak that asteroids were free to hover as they would in space.

Despite the distance between the ship and the planet’s surface, I worried that it wouldn’t take long for us to crash. At least the creature would be bound to the planet with this ship as a prison; I would undoubtedly die either before or as a direct result of the collision. As I watched the window, my eyes growing wider and my gaze intensifying with each moment that passed, Martin Fitzgerald and Lubin Hayes came running into the room, accompanied by various other familiar faces.

“Alan? Alan what are you doing up there?” Martin shouted, his voice echoed numerous times around the vast space we were in.
“Martin? Martin you need to get off of the ship, we’re heading for inescapable doom!” I cried, tossing my head in the direction of the window several times.
“We know, and the ship’s not going to last long anyway! It’s falling apart from the top down, should last us about half an hour before it’s all gone! We’ll come up and cut you down, how’d you get up there anyway?” Lubin said urgently whilst rallying a group to come and get me down.
“No, you don’t have time! You must get away! It’s here, don’t risk your sanity just get away! I know it’s here and it isn’t going to show any of you mercy! Go now!” My friends couldn’t here me as the echoes of previous words were distorting the words that proceeded them, and the people proceeded to come to my aid. It was hard work for them as the light emitted from the lightening only flickered through the dark blue of the room, causing monstrous shadows to be cast about the place; something that added a great deal of confusion to the situation.

The moment I felt myself topple from the pipe-draped metal wall to rest on my friend Lubin’s awesome shoulder, that white cloud of death emerged from behind the nearest generator and cried in an unknown language to us. I screamed and punched Lubin’s back in panic before pulling myself over his shoulder and falling, head first, to the floor. I expected a long fall with a broken neck attached, but within a second I found myself writhing about unscathed. Lubin jumped down, shouting at me about something I had done, but I cared not for his agitation. The creature lurked before us like liquid silver suspended in our artificial oxygen, something that repulsed me so much I found it sickening to breath at certain points. Martin’s eyes were fixed upon its entrancing beauty, as they were when they first beheld the gorgeously strange sight of that planet. For some reason the cloud seemed unable to sink into anything with a hard physical presence; this told me that it itself must now have a real existence- an exciting development this was. The light from the raging storm outside intensified the further we got and I feared that none of us would be able to evacuate. The ship rocked: a direct result of flying through a wall of asteroids. I had fallen in time to see the others topple and squirm on the floor- along with the beast!

I struggled to my feet but failed in keeping myself upright due to the irregular shakings from the powerful external assault. The men and women with whom I was acquainted shouted for me to join them in fleeing the scene; but I saw that look pervading their eyes, the look of unbound wildness that I had come to recognise. They had gazed upon evil and would soon lose themselves to it like the rest of the population; however I too had seen it, and I happened to be the first.

“Alan come on! We haven’t got long!” Although I couldn’t see who shouted, I’m sure it was Gina; a cook on the technicians deck or something. Various members of the pack continued to shout to me but I could do nought but look between them and it. The thing studied itself intently, as though not expecting the consistency change.

I had been in rain before, whilst visiting planets with terraforming potential, but never had I heard such a terrific clattering as I did when we really began ploughing through the jagged rocks and shards of dust; the sound of a million stones pelting the fast diminishing ship almost became a constant hum rather than a rhythm-less rattle. I came to my senses and started to the others, but they had moved considerably, making my journey more difficult as, with the pressure from the raging storm, pipes began to swell and explode; ejaculating water and artificial oxygen in all directions. In the midst of the condensation, the creature sank into obscurity, however the rest of the room followed suit and I found myself lost, lost in a place I had known for my entire life. To my right the obstruction seemed thinner than to the left, so I ventured forth in that direction.

posted on Nov, 28 2009 @ 07:23 AM
Part Six (the Final Part) : Tucked Away CONTIN

It was lucky I did, for a bolt of lightening cut through the ship and, although it had no direct affect, the wet air carried the current; the shock of which sparked in a thousand places over my flesh and an involuntary cry of pain accompanied the violent spasm. I dread to think what might have happened to me had I been residing in one of the denser sections of this mist, and the fact that I heard neither shout nor cry from anyone else unsettled me further: were they dead or were they away safe? And what had become of Evelyn? Had she been amongst the survivors? Had she escaped prior to these events? With her life and sanity intact? Once again I was stood in a most perilous situation and my mind, instead of focusing on an impending catastrophe, idled away in topics fanciful. Another jet of moisture-conducted electricity tore through the vessel and gave me another unwelcome shock. Ah! Stuff this, where are you?! I cried, not to my companions or the floating epidemic, but to open space from which I might just be able to see the state of affairs before me; so that I might make some progress and possibly get away.

Finally, after many minutes of tedious jumping around and running, I found a clearing and leapt for it; breaking free from the gaseous shrubbery to rediscover the pleasure of breathing properly and to settle my claustrophobic nerves. From where I stood I could see hundreds of water droplet accumulations, churning on either side of the vast room, trailing off into the black beyond; glittering with electricity. Every now and then a few of them would sparkle simultaneously and I had to watch in wonderment as the shadows they cast of various objects danced away like animated silhouettes. How, on the rusty surfaces of generators and ancient panels, the reflections resembled the starry plane of space with an infinite amount of white dots, shimmering over the surface of their contrasting colour. I noticed that the pipes were spewing less and less of the ships remaining supplies of water and air; not that it mattered much by that point. Slowly the heavy looking balls of moisture began to rise like the ghosts of flames to form a thin layer of boiling atmosphere under the ceiling. I stood still, watching the magnificent spectacle unravel before my eyes.

Then, about fifty feet away, the silvery being emerged and straightened; standing perfectly in between the two lines of burning atmosphere- it too felt the effects of the lightening storm and shone brighter than the swirling mass in which we were travelling. Breathless and unable to speak, the direct result of beholding the awesome splendour of such a majestic spectacle, I slumped to my knees and let my lungs breathe for me and my limbs move as they pleased. I noticed jagged bolts of lightening flashing about the room, a sign that the electricity had turned the pipes excretions from fine droplets of water to smoke. Those woollen masses of current conducting power were to be no more. The radiant being trembled slightly before running towards me on its three soggy legs.

For a moment, as it ran for me, at least fifty bolts of lightening flashed around it, each one branching out in a hundred directions before touching and cancelling themselves out for the rest of time. The surface of the planet grew closer with every step that the liquidated beast took. Finally it came close enough for me to see the complexity of its terrible face; something unlike anything I had seen before or will again I hope. I would try to describe it, but I would fail as it looked like one thing, but in another light it appeared as something else that to give utterance to in the same sentence as the other would be completely contradictory in every sense.

I let my head fall back, my mop of silver hair flowing down my back, as the creature stood over me and raised its assortment of arms, each varying in design from a human arm to some kind of slimy appendage, smothered on the underside with three dimensional rings. I dared not close my eyes as they were for my control only, and, after all that I had been through, I wanted to see what was to kill me rather than shy away from it and never really know.

Expecting imminent death at any moment I began to quiver and squeal like a baby. Suddenly another shard of electricity flashed just centimetres ahead of me and the fiend ran right into it, exploding with the over load of nature. The burning fluid of the creature whipped me across the face, cutting me from cheek to cheek, reducing my nose to a fleshy appendage where the cartilage had turned to jelly. I flew back and watched the creature’s glowing body parts hurtle about the room like the asteroids outside.

I trembled even more but with relief and pain. That relief was short lived, however, when I realised I had but minutes to find an evacuation pod and flee the scene with my life. After getting my unsteady legs in gear I sped to the nearest elevator; pushing for the first floor, knowing not if it still existed or whether the brutal nature of space had reduced it to nothing. Unluckily the chrome doors wouldn’t close and therefore I couldn’t go anywhere. Then, whilst jumping sequentially over to the nearest flight of stairs, I noticed that much of the monster’s remains were still visible to me- but they were traversing the steaming plane of the chrome floor like severed fingers, animated by means unnatural. Before they could reach me I turned to the stairs and began leaping up them, occasionally tripping and toppling over with the turbulence of falling through an asteroid ridden atmosphere storm. The steps began to crumble under my bleeding bare feet, and the rocks that had so mercilessly pelted the ship for the last hour or so began tearing through the walls, shredding the craft like paper. Several flew passed me head as I fell over, completely abolishing the next ten steps.

Between where I stood and the where I had to be was a gaping hole, through it the oddly coloured terrain of the planet whizzed by, blurred by the speed of our decent. Driven by adrenaline and an insatiable desire to survive I leaped over the gap and found myself hanging from the fast diminishing step that I had aimed my body at.

posted on Nov, 28 2009 @ 07:32 AM
Part Six (the Final Part) : Tucked Away CONTIN

Suddenly I felt one of those dastardly jagged rocks tear through my torso and the pain generated from the wound weighted me down, making the task of pulling myself back into the ship much harder to complete- but I did it. Before I knew it the steps were gone and I was on the upper floor, staring at the several huge steel doors, each one open, revealing the tiny rooms within wherein I would find my escape route. Some were closed, indicating previous escapes. I spun around at the sound of slurred murmurs and involuntary laughter to see a crowd of staggering survivors from the psychiatric ward. How they survived puzzled me, but then again I managed to survive so there was no real reason preventing them from doing the same.

Evelyn! There she was, struggling to fight the force to get to the escape pods! What a relief to see her, and even more so to wrap my arms around her, throw her over my shoulder, and jump into the closest evacuation pod before sitting her down and slamming the hatch closed. As I did so an explosion erupted from below and before I got the hatchway closed and the jets ejected us safely away from the destruction site, I saw the colourful ground disintegrate with the force and heat of the impact. For a few minutes my craft experienced the turbulence of that thick brown atmosphere’s rockier qualities, but then the ride became smooth and I was finally able to rest my head against the delicate shoulder of Evelyn. My half closed eyes were loosely fixed on the television screen opposite that showed me the direction in which we were travelling rather than the destruction behind.

Closing Statement

I know that it must be hard to believe, but please believe it as it is the truth. This was a freak incident involving the willpower of a man with an exceptional mental strength that was able to kill and turn mad the minds and souls of those that it came into contact with. Evelyn and myself were beginning to wonder whether we would ever find anyone in this infinitely desolate universe until just now, when a craft appeared on the television screen at the head of the pod. It seems to have seen us now, we hope it has a least, because we’re actually heading for a planet and I don’t particularly wish to end up stranded there. Who knows, maybe we are leading that ship out there to THE planet, the future sight of the human race; but then again, maybe we are being lead to certain doom, to suffer a fate worse than death: the fate that the crew of that ground stricken ship had faced… Still, if it will happen, it will happen; and I know that I cannot change it.

Thankyou so much for your time and I hope you enjoyed this short story.

posted on Nov, 28 2009 @ 07:36 AM
Thankyou to all that read my story! It is much appreciated
I hope that you enjoyed it more than I did (cause it weren't much). Thankyou also to the members of ATS who contributed to my thread 'Non-Prejudice racial evolution question' for all the information that you provided for me and I hope to eventually put it to good use when I turn this into a proper book.
Thankyou again to all!

I look forward to your comments and responses

Ramadwarf on Thanking ATS members and writing his story

posted on Nov, 28 2009 @ 07:39 AM
reply to post by radarloveguy

Thankyou very much Roger[ed],
, I hope you enjoyed reading this, and above all I hope that your sleep is undisturbed

Rammed Dwarf Piles on concern for sleeping patterns

posted on Nov, 28 2009 @ 09:39 AM
Rammed wharf piles ,
a happy ending , of sorts !

I find if I leave the lights on , and the car running outside
the open door , I only need 30 minutes of sleep a day now !

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