Archive for the Sci-Fi Category

Planet Bug Part 4

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi on October 5, 2009 by GuNNhead

In the morning, he walks back to the large tree without my lenses.
“Finally,” he says to himself. “I can eat.” He believes my stomach grumbles in anticipation.
He launches one of the sticks at a hanging fruit. After a few attempts, he hits a fruit with a ‘thuck’ sound and it falls in his awaiting hands. The large, yellow gourd-like fruit looks ripe, delicious. The juice is dripping out of it tantalizingly, and he cannot wait to take his first bite. He knows he will savor the flavor, and chew it for a long time before swallowing. He slowly brings the fruit to his mouth, and prepares for the first bite.

“Woah, hey, you’re not gonna eat it that just like that are you?” says an armored man from yards away.
“What?” he replies, surprised to hear a voice, only understanding what was said a second later. “I was, yes.”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t. I mean, I don’t recommend that at all.”
“Why? I don’t think I have to worry about poisons…”
“It’s not poisonous, per se, but I’d recommend taking the peel off first.”
“Oh…” He impatiently removes the thin peel. I quickly see that it’s not a fruit at all. There’s a two-foot long scorpion-like creature inside, surrounded by a thick, juicy, viscous, yellow fluid. It’s limp, and bleeding the same color fluid that it is surrounded by, the stick still pierced through its center, and doesn’t seem alive; he drops it.

“Hah, I don’t know how you got here, old sport, but there’s plenty of time for that later.” He pauses. “Don’t worry too much though, while the poison inside that little bugger could kill you, you’d not be able to eat enough of it before you succumb to paralysis, it’s intended for much larger creatures to eat whole, where their stomach acids bring it to life, and it eats them from the inside out.” He pauses the think once more, and continues “But, eating aside, if I am correct to assume that that’s your doing,” He points at the large cave, with smoke billowing out of it. “I know what’s in that cave, what’d you use to do that? Some sort of energy launcher, missiles?”
“… Fire.”
The fully armored man stares in disbelief, a large gun at his side, another, larger weapon strapped to his back.
“Well, good job then, because seeing that smoke got me interested enough to come see what caused it for myself! Either way, you’re lucky to be alive, I have a shuttle just over yonder; we were about to leave this wretched planet, before I saw the smoke of course. Do you want to leave with us, go to the Orbiter?”
“If the only other choice is staying here, then, yes.”
“Let us go then.”

Planet Bug Part 3

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi on October 2, 2009 by GuNNhead

Not knowing the planet, he’s not sure if it’d be safer inside or outside of the cave in the case of an earthquake, so he starts slowly walking out of the cave, wishing his suit was repaired enough to do a tectonic scan. He’s fairly deep inside the cave, but the more he walks out, the stronger the vibrations get. He hears a rumbling coming from inside the cave. Thinking it to be a cave-in, he starts running for the exit. His foot gets caught on the soft ground near, tripping him up enough that the origin of the sound catches up to his position.

In one direction he can see the light of the entrance, illuminated by the fire. In the other direction, however, it is much, much more horrific than he fathomed. A mountain that was within the cave is bearing down on top of him. A giant funnel web spider has come from his depths, disturbed and enticed by the man’s disturbing vibrations upon its web. A smackerel of food wandering into its trap, it comes for him. Every move he makes, it can sense, but there’s nothing he can do, it knows exactly where he is, it can hone in on every breath, every heart beat. He stands for not but a second, then sprints for the exit with everything he’s got. It quickly maneuvers and strikes, fangs digging into calves, sending him tumbling further toward the exit. He swings his wrapped branch, hitting its massive, hulking exoskeletal armor. The spider does not even realize it was attacked, and hones in again for the kill. He swings again, nailing it directly in the center of one of its eight eyes. It strikes again out of anger before recoiling in pain, missing, and sending the man even closer to the exit; despite its size, the eyes are incredibly vulnerable. He notices the fire nearby, and lights the make-shift torch, and aims for another of its eyes.

He throws the entire lit torch; his shot is sure and true. The spider ducks, and the torch goes soaring over its head, majestically missing its intended target by meters. Though, with a lot of luck, the flame hits a soft spot on its back. The part it hit starts moving, violently; it’s caught fire, and catches the surroundings ablaze. Soon the man realizes what he hit. This spider on this planet carries its young on its back, and he hit one of the many young, setting it ablaze, which then set others ablaze. They scurry, leaving the mother, and heading to the safety of the inner web. The rest of the old, dry web catches like wildfire. The giant mother doesn’t know what to do, sent into a panic, she begins wavering back and forth, hitting the sides of the walls, and rocking the cave. Her actions crush the remaining clutches still attached to her back, some of their blood and guts puts out parts of the flame, but it is of no use, it’s all happening too fast, and she catches fire herself. She too now retreats to the back of the cave, only to meet her burning end in a giant fiery mess. The man can only watch, seeing only familiarity within death. Nothing survived in that cave, save for him. He walks out with it still blazing behind me.

Planet Bug Part 2

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi on September 30, 2009 by GuNNhead

The man slowly walks in the opposite direction, not really knowing what to do with himself. Unbeknownst to him, synapses are reforming, and thoughts occur without knowledge… They think that commonly, there’d some sort of recognizable thing to do, but this place doesn’t quite lend itself to their regenerating neural pathways, neither does my situation. They believe for a moment that it’s all about perspective, perhaps they are simply bewildered. His thoughts turn to hunger as its memory wrenches about his gut. “I think I remember… food. The giant bugs ate, I should too”

He walks into the jungle, in search of something to eat, or some signs of civilization. Though he especially and unknowingly searches for his mind. He comes upon a tall tree, with a cornucopia of large, yellow orbs at the very top. They remind him of fruits. The tree is far too broad around to climb, and he does not yet fully realize who he is, who I am.
“Okay,” he says aloud, “Let’s see if I can find some way to get those down.”
He searches for materials through a fog of recollection. A strong tree branch right at his feet in the brush seems optimal. There are another few smaller sticks around, he thinks perhaps to throw. Looking around, there’s nothing else that sparks recognition.
“Well,” he says, looking up, holding and shaking his materials gently, “I guess the food’s there… now… shelter?” He stretches, and feels a familiar twinge at the base of his neck. His suit’s repairing itself, slowly, alongside his perception. I may have enough power in a few hours. “…and kindling, for fire.”

He walks with his batch of mismatched wood through the jungle, it is nightfall by the time he finds a large cave opening. He goes into it, knowing that while it’s not the best shelter imaginable, it is still far too small for that mantis, and that he’d hear anything else coming, as they’re so large, “so,” he decides, “it should be good enough for the night.” With his kindling gathered, an electrostatic discharge from his hand starts a fire near the mouth of the cave. Still unknowing about his surroundings and his place in them, he looks around the cave curiously, and walks a bit deeper, casually exploring it. His suit constructs full spectral viewing lenses on instinct, with him unrealizing. As he gets deeper, he gets to softer ground, colored off-white. Walking even deeper, the ground gets softer, and thicker, it is no longer a covering on the ground, it is the ground. He picks up a piece of it and finds out that it’s some sort of string. He pulls, but it seems endless, so he roughly cuts a long bit off, and ties it to his piece of wood for a make-shift torch.
The ground starts to gently vibrate. “Must be a small earthquake…”

Planet Bug Part 1

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi on September 28, 2009 by GuNNhead

A body is suddenly awakened by a splash of cold water; no, not a splash, a torrent. Drowning under water, and, while refreshing in comparison to being under three feet of sand and dirt, still means death if one remains under it. The man swims upwards, against the current, and breaks the surface. He’s behind a waterfall, in a small rocky alcove, the sound of the falls echoing peacefully yet forcefully all around him. He stays for a tick, catching his breath, gaining his bearings before going back under the water, to get to the other side. Once under and out, he re-emerges, and sees his surrounding: a dense jungle. Swimming for the beach, he wonders what he could possibly be doing here.

He reaches the wet sand, and lays there for a moment, composing himself. Then, he is slightly annoyed by a buzzing. It’s loud, so figuring it’s close, he swats it away, but it does not disappear. In fact, it gets louder. A gentle breeze cools his face, and he tries to ignore the buzzing and flapping of wings. The sound soon becomes deafening, and to his closed eyes it seems a cloud is blocking the calm sun. He opens them to see some sort of giant wasp hovering over him, as tall as the trees around, salivating over this morsel of food laid out before it. Its large pincers could easily slice him in half, and he would be worried about that, if the wasp could not swallow him whole with just as much ease. It strikes with its strong mandibles – he rolls to the side, and just barely evades an acid filled death inside the belly of this giant insect. Confused that it has missed its target, and gotten a mouthful of sand, it scuttles around, breaking down trees in its wake. It regains its bearings, as the man heads for the tree line for cover. It attacks again as he leaps behind the tree that its giant pincers cut in twain like butter. Disturbed, it scuttles around again, flapping its wings, sending a gust of wind the man’s way, knocking him off his feet. He gets up as the wasp-like giant hones in on him once more, staring at him, locked on his movements with its large compound, insect eyes. The man runs without looking for a path, his eyes locked firmly on the wasp. As it is about to strike, he runs into a tree, and falls down. The wasp takes this opportunity to go for the final death-blow. Its pincers are about to grasp the man, and tear him into pieces, when it stops suddenly…

A loud screech emanates from it, a tortuous, deafening screech. The man looks again at the wasp, as it lifts into the air, six arms flailing, its wings not twitching; a giant, green single sythen claw through its abdomen. An even larger praying mantis is the owner of this claw, and it grasps the wasp tighter, bringing it to its mouth, and it starts devouring it, head first. The man stares on in amazement. The sight is magnificent and terrifying. The mantis chews through the wasp’s body quickly, yet savoring every bite, the wasp’s legs twitching the whole time. When it finishes its meal it is left with only the wings, which it tosses to the side nonchalantly, before returning the way it came, its belly made large and black, filled with the chewed carcass of the now-digesting wasp.

The Outside Part 2

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Sci-Fi on September 21, 2009 by GuNNhead

It feels like everything ends up being insignificant, but rarely in the moment; insignificant people leading insignificant lives, breathing insignificant breaths, drinking insignificant water from an insignificant source from an insignificant cup. Insignificant jobs, insignificant pay, insignificant coworkers, insignificant buses, insignificant traffic, insignificant small talk.

Internally.

Externally, there is an entire system at work, there are always incalculable systems at play, to make the cup, to clean the water and make sure all the insignificant people are able to imbibe. It is mind boggling when one truly gets down to it. Billions of people over the course of history eventually created all of these people, and they all will eventually find meaning on the other side, there is something, a path that’s to be followed, and chain of possibility and determination that which cannot be ignored. Even our very cells cry out for something, something more. There is a developed system at play even inside all of us, simply to ensure we function correctly. Yes, we have modified it in most circumstances, but that is now merely part of the experience of being alive. I, personally, have had my cells modified, but can still plainly see the connection of lineage and thought trees that created who I am now, and how I came to be here. This all fits. It all fits, no matter how you look at it, it all fits, and will fit. It just makes sense, every last iota of it all, the entire universe and all the dimensions make sense, in the long, fateful run of it. We’re both the painter and the puzzle maker, but there is something, some, grand, cosmic, scheme that already knows what we will see once we paint each individual piece and what the epic majesty of the puzzle-painting will be once we assemble it.

Let us keep existing:

In life, there are allusions that must be seen, allusions to what we must suppose are the truths beyond the grave. If one can see, or learn to see, these connections, these allusions in our everyday life, if you can see that strings that fate has on all of our corporeal forms, then you can live life happily, knowingly, for fate smiles upon those who see her strings. She sees this as the puppet finally coming to life, taking a life of its own, an intelligence acquired from beyond the stars, within our selves.

Knowing of my fate:

I know how to repair this ship from the outside, I can do it, since the problem cannot be fixed from inside. None have ever been outside, inside of this dimensional pocket. Though, it’s impossible to read if it’s really a pocket, or the truest expanse of our own dimension, with more beyond that. It’s not my fate to remain in this empty ship and die, it can’t be, I know fate has more in store for me. I’m going to take my chances out there, fix my ship, and return home. The Gravity of the situation is not lost on me, and it may never be. Perhaps, no matter the truth, it’s time to ascend through the cosmic dimension.