GuNNhead

In death I have never felt so alive.

I don’t know what this suit is, but it feels natural, like a part of me I forgot I had; the omega surge suit. I feel that the suit has bonded with my craft as well on some level, it has altered the exterior while I was in hypersleep. A new logo on the outside of the GS-336; is it fate, or merely coincidence that my ship already carried the moniker of GS, which stood for Guiding Star, a simple model and model number. I know I feel, I know it stands for Gravity Surge. But why? Why do I know Gravity Surge? The logo is bold and intimidating.

I travel to the coordinates, death in my mind. I hunger for it. I sit in the central control area of my craft, stars and black space rushing by me. My helmet is stoic against the lights of darkness inside the central control area. I am adrift in thoughts, very nearing the planet. A quick flash of light comes from the windows. It causes the darkened unaware eyes of my helmet to flicker, light up, turn from their dark red to bright red, me waking from reverie. I look around to find the source.

Finding nothing, I look to the control panel, it appears in front of me, translucent, blue. ‘Sleep Mode’ scrolls across the top. The buttons are outlined with a brighter blue, and light up when I apply pressure to them; ‘Active’ now scrolls. My fingers glide nimbly across the tri-panel light console as the room gets a dose brighter.
“Scan for hosti-“ I get cut off by a warning siren. Red lights flash, the panel turns red ‘Total System Failure’ now scrolls. A trap.

Smoke and flame billows out the back of my craft as it hurtles through the ozone layer of the coordinated planet. Soon my craft is coming in over a huge snowbound landscape, skimming hundreds of feet above it, as I attempt to control my descent.
“Come on, come on you piece a junk!”
It’s a black night, but the moons and stars light the field well enough for me to see the ground fast approaching as mountains whiz by in the distance on either side.

The moment of impact; unready for it, I smash through the front window, bouncing off the ground repeatedly as my craft skids to a stop, halting just a short distance from where I lay in a crumpled heap, having slid across the landscape.

Inside the ship, lights return. Upon the console, it scrolls “Repair Sequence Initiated.”

Outside, I slowly stand, facing away from the ship, snow up to my knees. There is blackness all around, the main light now emanating from my craft, as smoke billows out of the back; smoldering. I stand, breathing in the icy cold silence. I begin to scan the area as my craft repairs itself, I scan a full 360 degrees turning left, seeing nothing save some snowdrifts and my craft. As soon as I complete the full optical scan, I hear something off to my right: the heavy crunching of feet in the snow. I turn to the source, and then I see it, coming over a ridge. I zoom in. Some form of monster, lumbering towards me. It’s large, almost oval shaped, with clawed arms swinging, swaying to its movement. Its head looks like the skull of a crocodile, with black, hollow eyes. Its body is fur, grey. I cannot see its feet from the snow.

With that symbol scorched into my planet in mind, I scan the Networked DataBase for any leads, and I get a match. A destroyer of worlds. Celrdrrun. What a stupid name, it will be a pleasure to wipe it from existence. With what power? A voice chirps from the depths of my mind. No matter. The DataBase has no information on where to find him. I know where I can get information, I’ve learned of it from my travels. There exists a place where the seediest of beings congregate, the Network has so far ignored it, in favor of pure exploration.

I enter the disavowed area, to which I’ve never dared explore; nothing matters any longer. I land on the central planet, seeking information. I head into the utmost squalid district, knowing if anywhere, that is where he, or his whereabouts may be. My clothes are still roughed up from my last explorations, before my planet was expired, my hair overgrown. I wonder if this makes me appear beaten and spent, or as if I’ve earned my place on this planet. Stepping into the centroidal establishment, and making a point-blank line towards the seeming owner, I confront him.

“What do you know of a being known as Celrdrrun? Where can I find him?”
“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about,” says the stout, bald creature.
“He leaves this symbol,” I belt gutturally, scraping the symbol into the surface between us.
He remains unintimidated and nonplussed.
I slam my hand down.
“Tell me now!”

Everything goes white, then red. In the next moment, I realize I’m on my knees, looking at a stump surging blood where my hand used to be.
“You really should be more polite,” spews a grapnil; the security of this cesspool.
I stand to face him, but two more arrive.
“Looks like he still got some fight in ‘im, the little bugger.”
Something deep inside me tells me to take a swing with my remaining hand, but as I do, a slice from one of the others removes my innards, and they spill on the floor. Immediately, the scrumpers that infest places as this begin to make a banquet of them.
“String him up to the wall, let’s to make an example of this one.”
“This is where your sanity gives in, pathetic half creature.”

They use their abilities to affix me to the main wall, for all to see. Soon they tear out my throat to stop my threats. I bleed out for days, but do not die. My one arm is tied up, I hang from it, and my legs are hooked to the stone by the grapnil’s natural hook-like appendages, which regrow as fast as they can dispel them. My amputation is left free to bleed.
“He should be startin’ ta smell, Boss, I just dun get it.”
I can feel my body dieing, but it will not. I feel the last drop of blood exit my body, and my heart beat its last. In death I feel more alive than ever before.
“Hey, look, he’s starting to bleed again. A lot.”
“Aw, man, I can’t have that, look at that bubbling mess on my floor, it might damage something. Awright, get him down from there, finish the job proper, I’m sick of his damn face.”
As they approach, a bolt of energy hits me, courses through my spine. I see my arm again, a flash, an outline of light; but something’s different. It’s back, but as some kind of chitinous armor. It fires a blast at the first grapnil, removing its small head, and it falls. The other two look on in amazement. The flash of light appears over my whole body, outlining some new form. A surge of gravity brings all in the place to their knees. Everything is vibrating in my eyes, it feels like the end. Omega. I break free of the restraints in this new form. The gravity returns to normal. I walk towards the remaining grapnils, and eviscerate them with their own hooks. One track mind. Death.
“Tell me where is Celrdrrun, old man.”
“Hey, hey, oh yeah, now I remember. Celrdrrun. Just head to these coordinates…”

As I enter into the unknown plane to repair my craft, my eyes are stabbed by a flash of a neon light. I can feel the cold grip of death tearing at me as my soul screams in pain. I must fix this. I must get out of this and grasp my destiny. The unknowable sights that I viewed while inside my craft take on a new life when I am outside, a vision softly creeping. Transcending azure surrounds. My spine goes numb. I make it to the external warp engine drive system. It’s been damaged. By what? I begin to work on it, fixing it the best I can, but it’s odd; it wasn’t quite so much damaged as altered, changed. I can sense something out here, some other being, beyond death, watching. Did it cause this damage? Something from within me urges me to call out to the feeling.
“I know you’re out there. If you want me, come and get me.” Stupid, just my mind playing tricks on me. I have been in isolation for far too long. Even if it is nothing, whatever it is, it must have never seen another being since the very beginning, the unfolding of the multiverse, existence; in this nowhere dimension. The gravity out here surges with ardor. Once the repairs are complete, I head back inside, through the decontamination chamber. The sensors detect no foreign bodies or bacteria. I suppose there truly was nothing out there.

I begin the engines. I can finally leave this place, return to my world. I’m excited to see everyone again. I engage the warp engine, creating a portal back to life, back to reality, and head into the hypersleep chamber for the trip home.

When I am woken up, reaching my designated coordinates, I can feel my body positively surging with energy. I head directly for the central control area, thrilled to finally be able to see my planet after so long. How long has it been? When I make it to the window, I can see my planet. It doesn’t look at all how I remember it. Where are the beautiful oceans, the lush expanses of green? Where is the world I remember? A black cloud covers most of the planet. I take my ship in closer, and see only destruction, ruins. I scan for life: Nothing. I connect with The DataBase: It’s been years since I have gone. My planet expired, no information on how, when, or why, only that there is no trace of this once great civilization. My mind burns with the loss. I have no anchorage. What do I do, when there is no place to call home. I enter into orbit around the planet, to think, clear my head. That’s when I see it: A symbol carved into the planet: the one who is responsible. They’re proud of their work, destructor of worlds. I fill with rage. Immediately, I scan the symbol, and get a trace going as to its origins. This being will pay with its life. I don’t know how I will ever be able to get my revenge on one who can destroy planets, or even if they are still alive, but it doesn’t matter. I have nothing to live for now, save death.