GuNNhead

Fighting through the cold and knee-high snow, I make it back to the museum, and see a figure inside. I fire two shots at it through the large bay window before jumping through the window itself. The alarms go off, and the figure vanishes. By morning, the RCMP arrive and attempt to question me. My badge and the security video answer all they want to know.

“Geeze, I thought I asked you to help, not trash the place.”
“I am helping. I caught your thief off guard, but if what I found out was true, we have a much bigger problem on our hands now. These stones each hold a great, other-worldly power, but there are not five, there are six, and your thief now has it almost completed. Where are those lenses?”
“I had them on me, here.” He hands them to me, I hold both up to my eyes, and look at the first stone. Then, the past is revealed to me…

“The undead!” Events of the past and future tore through his mind as he stabbed his wife in the chest, and kicked her off the final snowy precipice of the cliff face. Stopping more than one heart in the process.

I saw it all, thousands of years in an instant within that stone. A long-since forgotten group of our people who discovered the stones in the ice, fallen from out of space, appearing from holes in the sky and clouds. Unlocking their power, they were able to prosper over many generations. One day, an elder misguided by his own hubris and heartbreak sought the power for himself. He rose the dead as an army, but was thwarted by one man, who shattered the stone being used to channel these powers, breaking the elder’s control over the dead. However, with the stone now destroyed, he could not lay them back to rest, and fled with his wife and the rest of the stones. When the sun his his face upon reaching the top of the cliff, the stones spoke to him, and told him of his wife’s sudden but inevitable betrayal. He hid the remainder of the misused shards in a false-bottom of the unused cradleboard he had brought with him, and triggered an avalanche, burying all traces of the event and his peoples, never to return.

“We got a big problem here, a big problem.”
“What do you mean, like, moreso than what’s already happening?”
“Much more; how much do you know about these stones?”
“Only that they hold a great, mysterious power, whose power is only eclipsed by its mystery.”
“Wonderful. Call the RCMP, tell them to meet me at the graveyard.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“No. No I do not.”

This entry was posted on February 15, 2013 at 3:33 am and is filed under Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.