Before the beginning of history, many thousands of years ago, a parasite was created. Ravenous, and greedy, and through its actions it began to tear at the very fabric of reality.*Edina, Minnesota, United States of America, June 23rd, 2025*. Phil clambered to the top of his steel death trap, and began to clear the leaves from his drain pipes. He is a man of 63, a decade too old for such a chore, but with no child and only his even older wife to hold the ladder, he had little choice but to do it himself. The hairs on his head had all turned gray years ago, and his weight had all shifted towards his abdomen. His wife, Barbara, 65, held the ladder as steady as she could. Unlike her husband, her hair glowed with color, natural or no. That’s when He arrived, The Stranger, he was driving an old 93 Malibu, its dull blue paint scratched and torn to reveal the rusting aluminum shell beneath. He, having noticed this couple, pulled up to their driveway. From there he began to walk up to them as they both stand transfixed by their individual labors. He was the first to break the silence, a light cough was all that was needed to get Barbara’s attention. She, having been understandably startled by the sudden appearance of this stranger, jerked back almost pulling the ladder with her. He stood in rather plain clothing, a plain long sleeve, a plain pair of jeans, and a plain hair cut of obsidian, and he only looked even plainer in flesh. Nonetheless there seemed to be something wrong with him, his eyes lay framed with red, and the crimson had begun to seep into the very veins of the eye, giving him an appearance like that of a druggie. “Wh-Who are you!?” she trembled, still reeling from the shock.“ No one of consequence.” came the answer, with a voice even more average and yet… off. Almost as if purposefully plain. “I’m simply passing through, I saw you two struggling, may I be of any assistance” it was a formality, not a question, as he began to walk up to the ladder. “You can start by holding this fucker still so’s I don’t fall on my ass” came an angry reply from on high, Phil was holding onto dear life by the very pipes he was meant to clean. “I have a better idea” the stranger’s pale hands clasped onto the sides of the steel trap before continuing “Climb down fella, I like to meet you and finish your job myself”. No complaint was heard from Phil as he practically slid down onto the concrete pavement of his driveway. “‘Preciate it friend” came his thanks before turning a vile gaze towards his wife and quickly returning to being grateful. “May I ask your names before we begin?” “Name’s Phil, and this-” he gestured with his sight, with just a hint of that same vicious look from before “is my wife Barbara” “Pleasure to meet you both” he gave a wide smile, revealing snow white teeth, and quickly leapt onto the ladder without a second thought and cleaned the gutters without any aid. It took him less than a minute, he moved with an otherworldly level of efficiency. The conversation continued on as he worked and soon led them inside. First they made small talk, discussing the weather, talking about road conditions and travel. Then began a different line of query.“So tell me, you have any children?” “Goodness no” Barbara shot out before a second thought could suffocate the first. “Friends and family perhaps?” “We go to a monthly block party every month, hell Barb once dragged me down there while I had a stomach flu, spent half the party in the bathroom because she wanted to” Emphasizing with an indication of quotation “ ‘Save face’, *phhh* while she was saving face I was busy trying to save dinner!” he let out a laugh, although it seemed more an indication of anger than of joy. An awkward silence soon fell over the house as The Stranger continued to smile politely and Barbara began to be filled with a terrible query. Why was The Stranger passing through when he saw them? The thought soon took hold and became all she could think about. But for at least half a minute she dared not ask it. Until finally she could bare it no more, as if holding in the juiciest secret and not being able to tell anyone about it for years. “And why are you here?” Barbara finally found the courage to ask. The stranger took a minute, considering the question quite visibly before finally responding “I’m just passing ‘round” “Surely that can’t be all” Barbara had never been known to keep to herself, nor to leave others alone when they attempt to dodge a question. “Yep, just passing around, visiting and traveling. Although I am considering moving in with some folks if the opportunity presents itself” The Stranger admitted with some grief. “We have a spare guest bed if you need a place for tonig-” her eagerness finally giving way to remembrance, remembrance that she was not the master of the house. She turned an eye towards her husband, fortunately noticing an agreement in his own eyes. “We’d be happy to have you strang- oh shit! Where’re my manners? What’s your name traveler?” said Phil offering a hand as tribute. The Stranger took it and as he stared Phil in the face, and leaned in close before whispering “you may call me… **Death**.” as insects of all form and species began to shamble out from the stranger’s sleeves and writhe their way onto Phil’s own hand as he began to scream and attempt to free his hand, to revoke his sacrifice. But The Stranger’s hand held him with the strength of at least a half dozen men. The Stranger began to turn his neck towards Barbara, who had also begun to scream. Until she saw his face. It had begun to rot, yellow skin gave way to translucent blood, followed by green pus, which gave way to long decayed bone. His eyes now glowed with a necrotic light and he opened his mouth to behold an abyss, only for it to soon be filled with vile black and red. The substance flung from oblivion and branded Barbara and all the furniture around her. he soon turned his attention back towards Phil, still struggling and screaming, he had not yet looked The Stranger in the face since his horrid transformation. With the gentlest, yet most forceful of movements, The Stranger turned Phil’s screaming head towards The Stranger’s own Until they both stared each other down in silence. As Phil stared into The Stranger’s eyes, he felt that same feeling you get when you stare into the sun, but it was not just his eyes that felt it, his whole body now overcome by the sensation. He feared that if he continued to stare his entire being would be extinguished, not capable of withstanding its radiance. Soon, all of Phil’s nerves were engulfed in necrotic flame. The Stranger opened his mouth. Once the deed was done and both husband and wife lay in their living room covered in vicious bile and vomit, The Stranger put back on the mask he had worn when first meeting them, and walked over to his vehicle. As he made his way to the door of his run down vehicle, he stared up towards the sky and said “May your plague spread throughout these lands, and may it devour all of those who dare come in contact with it”. He climbed into the driver’s seat and began to ride. There was work yet to be done. **1**  OP Note: Hello there, thanks for reading through the entire story! My name's Jonathan A. Harkness (with a name like that could I really do anything else as a hobby?). This is the first part of a larger short story, so far I'm only about a couple of parts in, and I've yet to really etched anything in stone yet. The purpose of my posting here isn't limited to me wanting to share a story with you all, I really wanted to get some opinions on it. I have shown the story to some friends, but fear that they've too much of a personal bias to get too much advice on it.What I want is critiques, things that worked and things that didn't, where you think the story should go (I've a small idea, but as I've said nothing's quite solidified and I can adapt), etc.I appreciate your comments. Thank you.


“Mommy, can I have a balloon?” A child tugged at his mother’s clothes while pointing at a stand selling balloons. The mother sighed. “Oh, all right fine. Just don’t lose this one.” The mother paid for a nice blue balloon and gave it to the child. As they walked off, the child tripped and immediately let go of the balloon and it floated off into the sky. The mother was more dumbfounded than anything and the child started to cry. … The balloon was confused. One second it was tethered to the earth by a human child, the next it was abandoned into the breeze and drifted into the cloudless sky. The balloon didn’t get to publicly float for a while as a strong gust blew it over a city. Looking down onto the buildings below, it first saw the finest of towers and houses glistening over the glorious boulevard below, but that wasn’t the only thing it saw. Next to the gorgeous buildings, there was a maze of slipshod buildings sprawled out in contrast. This confused the balloon, shouldn’t the humans defend each other, shouldn’t they watch each other’s’ backs? The balloon tried to dismiss this thought thinking, there must be a justified reason the other humans must have their own woes… the balloon wasn’t completely sure. The balloon got blown down into the slums where it became horrified. The humans there were living in absolutely appalling conditions. There were families starving, structures that were falling apart, and orphaned children running around in rags. The balloon wanted to do something, anything, but it couldn’t, it was just a balloon. It could just float. The winds changed and blew back into the wealthy part of the city and balloon floated along with it. Among the glamor, the balloon saw people splurging on fine goods and foods, partying their times away, and seeming to only give a care about themselves. The balloon felt a building furry, here were people just throwing away money without care while people not far away are struggling to just survive. Again the balloon wanted to do something, but it was just rubber. It could only drift. The balloon was disheartened. What could it do? It couldn’t do anything. The humans probably wouldn’t do anything anyway. The balloon did a mental sigh and decided to just give up thought. As it drifted of both mentally and physically, the balloon only lamented that it couldn’t do anything. A loud crash brought the balloon back to consciousness. From high in the atmosphere the balloon peered around and saw the remains of a collapsed building. With nothing else to do the balloon drifted down to the ruins. It was horrendous. Scrap was everywhere, and so were bodies. The balloon decided to look for any survivors it could find, it could at least try to do something. It floated above the scene but could find anyone. All of a sudden there was what sounded like a child crying. The balloon saw a kid almost hidden by the wreckage and covered in so much dust they were barely visible and immediately floated down. ... The child sniffled. They wanted to cry but they were losing the strength to even do that. The child was scared, they didn’t want to fall sleep forever like what happened to their parents. That fear gave the child enough strength to cry out for what they thought was one final time. Strangely a savior came to the child, a blue balloon. “Hello, Mr. balloon…” the child propped themself up awkwardly and weakly. “Are you here to carry me off…” They reached out to the balloon and pulled it towards their chest. “...thank you…” The child poked some of the dust on the ground and drew a smiley face on the balloon. “I don’t think I’ll make it Mr. balloon… I can’t feel my legs anymore…” the kid looked back to their legs. “My legs got stuck when the building fell… I hope I can finally see my parents again…” The kid’s grip on the balloon loosened and it floated up slightly. … The balloon thought about the child. They wouldn’t survive. For the third time the balloon wished it could do something, but it was just a disposable toy. What could it do? It could only be carried by the breeze and eventually, …the balloon realized there was one final way to help. … The child let go of the balloon and watched it float away. It didn’t get far, however, when the balloon ran into a sharp piece of wreckage, poped, and fell back into the child’s hands. “Did you hear that?” rang a voice in the distance. “I think there’s something over here.” said a closer voice. Some of the rubble surrounding the kid was moved aside and a firefighter peered through the newly made gap. “There’s a kid over here!... They are still alive!” A few more firefighters rushed over to help clear the rubble and free the kid. “Don’t worry now,” the first voice said to the kid, “we will save you.” After a bit of struggle, the firefighters freed the kid from the wreckage and was carried to an ambulance. While all this happened the child looked down at the small corpse of a balloon in his hand “Thank you Mr.


Gary, 38 “I thought there’d be more of a campfire vibe going on, seen as you know, everywhere’s on fire. But, the other night, when I tried to get a chorus of ‘B-I-N-G-O’ going, they booed me. Unbelievable!” Jake, 26 “Trying to keep to a high protein, low-carb diet has been tough. Not impossible, but tough. The guy I’m travelling with keeps trying to get me to have potatoes, says it's starvation that’s the reason my abs are popping. But, it’s just jealousy. Surely after the nuclear winter comes the nuclear summer? And who doesn’t want to be ready for that?” Jeanette, 32 “I didn’t have much of a skin care routine to speak of before it all happened. But, someone showed me that using rotting human flesh does wonders for your complexion. They also danced around with the entrails, so I don’t think they were all there. But, the skin care advice still stands,” Alicia, 42 “It’s given everyone a chance to reinvent themselves. The other day we met this guy called ‘Donkey Cock’. Quite an aggressive guy, a bit stabby, carried around a severed donkey penis with him like a safety blanket. Bet he was an accountant, or something like that before it all happened. Was probably massively into Rocky Horror,” Cortland, 52 “No one can look good in actual rags. Fact. Sure, you can accessorize. How else do you think I’ve managed to pull off this look? But, frankly this whole apocalypse has been a disaster fashion-wise,” Laura & Stephen, both 35 Stephen: “Restaurant standards have really nosedived,” Laura: “There used to be this place that we went to all the time. But, we went there yesterday, and the guy just screamed at us to get out,” Stephen: “The angry, celebrity chef is so cliché. At some point you have to remember about customer service,” Laura: “Fortunately, there’s quite a good street food movement happening,” Stephen: “We were at this guy the other day who does awesome barbecue. Really simple, but tasty food. Tastes just like pork,” Mark, 24 “It sucks that I never got the chance to tell my boss to go fuck himself. That first day when I didn’t have to drag my ass in, only for him to shout at me was great. Sure, I had to escape a gang of crazed rats. But, it was still pretty great,” Joey-T, 19 “End of the…? Bro, don’t mess with me. Are you messing with me?...Shit!...I…er…Does that mean the QuickStop is closed?“ Zoe, 22 “Some people have a real attitude now. This guy was all like, ‘what skills do you have?’ And I was like, ‘Erm, I’m a content provider’ and he just starts laughing,” Glen, 54 “This guy said the water he’d got was the best, filtered stuff you could get. Sure, there were some smooth notes, and a clean, crisp finish. But, it was cold, and that’s about as good as it got. Finishing the bottle was a chore. I can’t say I’ll be going back…yes I am dehydrated, but I have standards,” Barry, 40 “I blame Hollywood. We’re all waiting for some charismatic leader to step through the smoke, bring us all together and lead us forward. But, the closest we’ve got is when some guy trying to sing ‘B-I-N-G-O’ the other night.


The room was empty and pale, except for the old man and the boy asleep on the floor. The window in the center of the wall directly in front of the old man was streaked with dirt, and the paint that had once given the crossing panes a dark black color was now flaking and dull. The floor boards creaked as the old man paced; the uneven floor joists between the floor and the damp ground below groaning in protest. There would be spiders there, and mold. The joists themselves were probably mostly mold at this point. A family of ants walked single file through the cracks in the boards, up the wall, and out the window where a small vine from a bush outside had made its way in. There were no lights. The house had never been wired for electricity. There was no heat, save for a small wood-burning stove that was not safe to use. The man stopped his pacing in front of the window with his hands behind him, lost in thought. The youth was glad the man was there. Waking up was never easy, and he could tell he was about to fade again. Before he could say anything, the man looked over at him noticing he had finally regained consciousness. “Ah, you’re awake! Good! I wasn’t sure this time that I hadn’t lost you. Quickly, tell me what you saw?” He walked closer to the boy, the echoes of his heavy boots reverberating like hammers in the boy’s head. He crouched down so that his eyes were even with the boy, and took his head into his hands and peered into his eyes like he was a doctor and the boy was his patient. The physical contact made the boy’s skin crawl, though he wasn’t sure why. Had the youth really been glad for his company only moments ago? From somewhere he pulled a cup of water and tried to get the boy to drink. With what little strength he had, the youth pushed his hand away and tried to stand up. “You ask me that every time, and every time it’s the same. I saw nothing! I always see nothing! I am not aware of being conscious until I wake up here in this god-forsaken room.” The youth did not know how long he had been in this room. He could remember having a family, going to school, playing with friends. The memories felt old, as if they belonged to someone else. He had lost count of how many times he had woken up to find this man pacing in front of the window. “I’m thirsty”. The old man passed the cup back to the boy without looking at him. He was already lost in thought as he stood up and walked back to the window, his hands behind his back. The boy drank the water greedily, his throat feeling less constricted as the liquid made its way down into his stomach. These trips were taxing on his body. If there were a mirror, he would see that the boy he had been before being brought to this place had aged a good five years. Was the age natural though? Had he really been here that long? He knew he was no longer the boy he had been even without seeing the proof for himself. A man knows when he becomes a man. The boy had been a man since the first time he woke up with the Old Man crouching over him, the worry clearly etched in his face and his wrinkles folding his skin into artful patterns. “What are you thinking Old Man? Usually you try harder for information when I wake, but this time you barely asked anything.” The Old Man turned around and looked at the boy, mild surprise and humor touching his eyes. The Boy used to fear those eyes, but now they were just another puzzle he knew he would never figure out. The Boy knew he would probably die in this place, whether from old age or the elements. He often wondered if maybe he was insane and would die from hunger or thirst while his brain convinced his body that he was fine. The Old Man seemed very real though. The Old Man stared for a few moments more before turning back to the window, his hands still behind him and his back straight. His frame didn’t seem to be touched by age, though it had clearly taken his face and hands. The Boy could see the age spots, clearly visible on those hands. Those hands had comforted him when exhaustion and sadness had taken him to the brink of death, and those hands had beat him into submission after being taken from his home all those years ago. “I’m thinking that we may need to leave this place soon. You’re a bit of a disappointment, but you clearly have the gift and the strength of spirit necessary to grow into it.” The Old Man shook his head and turned around again, his eyes now tired and reflecting the age of his soul if not his frame. “I misspoke. It’s not you who are the disappointment. I have failed so far to direct you where you need to go. These last few years have been taxing for both of us, and I can no longer feel the wind as I could when I was a young man like you. I could never dream the way you do, and that strength is hard to control and shape. You may be the greatest dreamer who ever lived, and I am not sure I can teach you what you need to know.” The Boy stared at the Old Man in disbelief (did he say years?). He still thought of himself as a boy, but the Old Man had just called him a man. Did this really make him feel …. proud? He tried to remember his own father, to see his face and hear his voice, but couldn’t. He still ached for the loss of his parents, but it was a distant echo. It had just been him and the Old Man for a long while. *Years? Really?* He barely had time to reflect on this when he began to fade again. The Old Man watched him crumple into the floor, gravity winning though he tried to will himself awake. Swirls of color began to cloud his vision and the last thing he was aware of was the Old Man turning again to look out the window, his hands clasped together tightly behind his back.


FEEDBACK WELCOME There was a flash, and only for a brief moment, the sky was engulfed by a white light. The light collapsed into the middle of the sky until there was nothing left of it. The sky became devoid of colour, apart from a few drifting clouds which surfaced the sky’s canvas. The sound of thunder rolled its way through the ground and Escanor’s eyelids opened slowly. He was wearing blackened armour; however, his helmet had been separated from him, revealing his face. As his vision slowly focused, he felt something lightly tap his nose. Escanor began to notice the sensation of his hair becoming damp as the rain quickened in pace. He had burnt-orange hair and a moustache that reached the corners of either side of his lip. The right side of his head ached in pain, it felt like a stone was lodged deep within his head and something sharp was growing erratically towards his right ear. Stuck in a state of confusion, he tried to remember what he had been doing before he woke up. He recalled that he was a knight serving under King Arthur’s rule and was a part of the 9th Legion. They had been ordered by King Arthur to go to Sussex where rumours had been circulating about the spotting of giants. But, what had happened to everyone? He attempted to sit up, but the burning in his muscles caused him to struggle. He was built a lot stronger than the other knights, some liked to call him ‘The Lion’, but now it felt like his body was a magnet pulling him towards the ground. He reached out to the side of him for support and his hand became submerged in the wetness of the mud. Using all his effort, he pushed himself off the ground and onto his feet. The sound of the stiff pieces of his armour clanking against one another came to an abrupt stop as he found his balance. Escanor lifted his head and his heart nearly forgot how to beat. Soldiers lay scattered around some of them had been impaled by clubs that were three meters long, others had their heads and limbs completely torn off. Streaks of crimson red brushed the tips of the grass and mixed with the wetness of the dirt to form translucent puddles of blood. Off in the near distance, he spotted a fallen castle made of stone. A feeling of eeriness washed over him and his gaze quickly left the castle. He scanned the battlefield once more to see if perhaps one of his comrades, at the very least, had survived. “Anyone alive?” He yelled but as soon as he spoke his lungs failed him and he fell short of breath. The feeling that he felt then was one he was too familiar with. All of the world’s weight came crashing down on his heart and his lips began to tremble out of control. Of all of his comrades and friends in the 9th Legion, why did he deserve to stay alive? Did he even deserve to live, or was it pure chance? He wanted to escape this hell he wanted to be free alongside his comrades. He felt like his perception of reality was slipping, almost as if his consciousness was being separated from his body. He wished that his heart would crush under the pressure, but no such luck came; instead, the feeling continued torturing him. A laugh, so loud that it shook the trees in the distance and vibrated the ground, snapped him back into reality. His knees buckled. He was sure the laugh came from the castle. Reluctantly, he tilted his head and scanned the demolished castle. This time, however, he spotted a group of large figures. The entrance, which had completely collapsed, revealed the group sitting in the inner ward. Eight of them were gathered in a circle around a small fire. They all wore stained loincloths and some of them had wooden clubs resting on their wide shoulders. There was no doubt that they were the giants that had been rumoured about. Escanor unsheathed his sword. He let the sword fall by his side and the tip of the sword just scratched the mud. He began walking towards the castle. As he dragged his sword through the mud, he saw so many familiar faces; each one spawned memories of their previous battles, their training days and the laughs they shared when they were children. He felt something crawl down his cheek and at first, he thought it was the rain. He rubbed his eyes with his hand and felt a tear. As the following tear escaped, the rest of the tears began flowing out at an unexpected rate. He lifted his head back and looked at the sky where the same feeling of emptiness lingered. He tightened the grip of his sword and wiped the tears of his eyes. The sorrow that had pervaded his soul was being drained and rage was starting to fill in. He wasn’t going to let any of those memories die in vain, he was going to redeem his comrades. He stood on the rubble which was once the entrance of the castle and stared at the giants. The laughter continued, only now he could feel the walls and ground trembling. One of the giants turned its head and Escanor almost His face was puffy and large. He showed emotions of both confusion and joy, like he wasn’t sure what to think about his new meal that just showed up out of nowhere. “Ah, one of you survived I see.” The giant mocked, “Come to die have you?” Escanor said nothing and continued to glare at the giant. The other giants turned around, all curious. Their eyes drew towards Escanor’s sword and soon, all of them burst into laughter. “You’ve come to kill us?” One of the other giants sneered, “Good luck tryi-”. Escanor leapt forward with all his strength and with one clean swing of his sword, the giant’s upper body slid off. The other giants stood in awe and for a few seconds, the only sound that could be heard was the rain hitting the pale stone. Behind him, one of the giants swung their clubs at him while yelling frantically. Escanor ducked and rolled to the side. He swept his sword toward the giant’s feet and the giant toppled over. He bent his legs, launched and slashed the giant’s neck. The giants were in shock, but they attacked reluctantly regardless. Escanor turned towards the six remaining giants charging his way. His sword and armour were stained with blood, but he hadn’t avenged his comrades yet. Thinking about his friends he had lost filled him up with a new energy, one he had never experienced before. Using that energy as a harness, Escanor fought like a demon. Swinging left, dodging to the right, rolling, thrusting upwards, jumping he felt invincible. He continued fighting until only one of the giants remained. “You’re - you’re a monster!” The giant squealed, attempting to run away. He threw his sword like a spear at the giant’s back and the giant tumbled over on a pile of fallen stones. Escanor grinned, and then that grin turned into uncontrolled, insane laughter. That’s when he knew he had been reborn into a cruel world, into a living hell.


She lay out the instruments with the utmost care, making sure each one lined up with the other in parallel. It was a simple operation; she could do it with her eyes shut – and in fact she had. It was only a few years previously that the hijacking of the REM cycles had been discovered, but with the imminent need for more microbinarial surgeons it had quickly been used to train applicants to a place of competency. In the adjacent room, the patient’s head slumped backwards. In only a matter of seconds, the sodium compound had permeated his skin, and worked its way to his heart – from where it was being pumped through every artery and capillary in his body. The effects had been nearly instantaneous. The anaesthetist watched over the happenings but did not react, for all was going as expected. The implant was, with tweezers and an exceedingly steady hand, teased out of the viscous liquid under which it was kept. It had to be activated before it could be placed inside the temporal lobe of the brain, to the left of the lateral fissure. The process was automatic. A brief reaction with the oxygen in the air, and the implant glowed a muddy orange, as the electrical current produced was absorbed and then conserved for future use. The patient was wheeled in and positioned next to the operating table. Without hesitation she pulled the machine over his head and placed her chin on the rest to look into the eyepiece. She watched as the machine bore a small hole in his skull and then retracted from over him. Without delay, she set about preparing to insert the device. The chip was clamped with fine tongs and lowered in through the hole. Once in position, the surgeon released the horizontal pressure from the tongs, leaving the implant nestled snuggly in place. She quickly pasted over the cranial orifice with artificial bone. The skin was replaced with an identical, newly grown patch, and a cream was rubbed into the new skin. Hair would grow by morning. And by the morning following that, the patient would have no recollection of the operation at all. Beatrice was a moral woman – as moral as anyone else; however, her morals couldn’t stretch as far as five million credits. She stood, uneasily, in her operating theatre, every so often glancing cautiously over her left shoulder toward the door, and then back at the sheet of paper which had been spewed, inexplicably, from her printer the prior morning. Had it not been for the advanced million credits proving to be legitimate, Beatrice would have shredded the A4 sheet without second thought. Money was freedom. Beatrice tried not to consider what her conspirator was planning on using the implants for, once whoever it was had control of them. The message had told her that it was ‘for good’, but she doubted that. Either way, she would be far away before they could do any harm – if that was what they wanted. The instructions they had given her seemed simple enough, and Beatrice doubted that they would even work – after all she’d never heard of access to the implants through the hospital computer network. Even so, with the thought of an early retirement heavy in the front of her mind, she quickly opened a command terminal and started to write the commands given to her. They sounded bogus, but the writer of the letter had proven their legitimacy, so she continued without hesitation. She was finished and with one swift motion brought her index finger down toward the enter key, but in that instant, something fired in her brain. Something powerful took hold of her, controlling her motion and halting her action. It froze her in her place. A voice. ‘We are in control now Beatrice.


It was running through the mountains with great agility despite it's size. Hopping over smaller rocks and magnificently keeping it's balance on the snow-covered rocky terrain. The prey -a human in his twenties- was running away from it haphazardly about 30 meters away. He was quite experienced in these mountains, and would not easily trip over the rocks or slip on the snow. Despite this, the creature was quickly catching up to him. The footsteps made him shake even from that distance, like thunder. The human anxiously glanced around the general area to find a corner or a huge stone to hide behind. When he spotted a sharp, horizontal edge popping up from the ground to his right, he changed his direction and quickly took cover behind the stone shape. He let himself slowly slide down onto the snow, pushing his back to the barrier. He tried to slow down and quiet his breathing, so the creature wouldn't sense that he was behind the rock. The thunder kept rumbling harder towards him, shaking every single bit of his body like a small earthquake. Then it stopped. Abruptly. The creature's breathing also stopped; it knew how to trick. Fortunately for the hunter, this human's experience with trickery was quite extensive, and so he got up as heavily as he could, and started stepping to his right as sneakily as he could. Unfortunately for the hunter, he could only take a few steps before a hand his size reached out from over the stone barrier and wrapped it's furry fingers around him, trapping his arms to the side. He was swiftly lifted up from the ground and came face to face with the creature, almost passing out from the pressure of being elevated to 30 meters in two seconds. But that dizziness quickly gave way to sheer panic when he saw it's eyes directly locking onto him. And then it spoke: "*Nolite timere*. *Ego nolo malum*." He shut his eyes. Waiting. Waiting for it to either eat him in one gulp, or pop his head open like the cork in a champagne bottle. But he quickly understood that his anticipation was misplaced when instead of getting shoved down the creature's throat, it spun him around as if it was inspecting him. When it was done appreciating the fine details of this petrified human, it slowly lowered his hand to the ground and loosened his grasp, letting him slide between it's fingers and fall onto the soft white blanket. He screamed as loudly as he could, then ran away with great fear in his eyes. *What just happened? Why did that happen? Am I going insane?* These were thoughts that crossed both the minds of the creature and the hunter. After seeing the him get a moderate distance away from the mountain, the creature slowly walked towards his cave, and dug deeper into his mind with questions like: "Why did I do that? What did I just feel?" going through it's head like lightning. When it reached the pitch black cave, it activated it's infrared eyes. It could now see the cave perfectly to the finest detail. To the right of the cave there were countless little inscriptions and notes in Latin carved onto the wall meticulously. The creature sat down in front of an empty space in the notes and carved another whole paragraph in : "*Today, something very strange happened. I saw a lonely traveler climbing on the mountain and I ran towards him to eat him. He tried to hide from me, but I found him and grabbed him. I was going to swallow him, but this weird feeling came over me when I was about to do it. I felt... weird. I felt bad for him for some reason and didn't eat him. I let him go. I've started to have these weird feelings a lot over the past months, since I ever saw that beautiful human. I think it was female. Normally I would want to eat or crush her, but for some reason I didn't feel that need. I wanted to... protect her. Take care of her. Ever since then my urges to hurt or crush have slowly faded and they have been replaced by these urges that hurt me and prevent me from eating. I don't know how to stop it."* It put down the rock it used to carve the paragraph, and glanced over to the tiny (relative to his size) book titled "Latin" and huddled up in a corner to get some sleep.


MEET ME AT THE AIRPORT AT 9. BE THERE! I reread the text. I read it again. Lillian was an ex-lover of ours. It was mid week but the hassle might be worth it. My beautiful wife Nicole was working from home today. My mind was reeling with the possibilities. I looked at the clock, it was 4:06. I got up and sent a text to my supervisor that I was sick and wouldn’t be in today. I would get some serious shit tomorrow but I was really hoping it would be worth it. I looked at my beautiful wife and then rolled out of bed. I quietly went through my morning routine. I let the dog out, started coffee fed the dog, blah blah blah. I poured her a cup when she came out. She was still wearing her pajamas as well, the benefits of being able to work from home. “What’s the occasion? No work?” she asked. “I called in sick. Lillian texted me. She wants to meet at the airport at 9.” I said. “Can you take off so we can both meet her?” “Ha!” she said wrapping her arms around me, “And here I thought I was something special. She texted me too. Ya I have enough time off. I’ll take an hour or two.” We shared a brief kiss before I pulled away to flip the bacon. “Just in case she wants to play today, I’ll tell work that I’m not feeling well and may have to take the day off. I’m going to shower and log in for an hour though.” “Ok. After I eat I will change the oil in my truck and shower then. Don’t take too long, your eggs are going in th pan in four minutes.” I said as I opened the fridge. A half hour later we had eaten and I put on some work clothes. A half hour after that, I jumped in the shower. I got dressed and went to my computer. “Woah! All dressed up I see. Hoping to get lucky?” My wife asked when I walked past her. “Well ya!” I said with feigned sarcasm. If I can’t turn you on I’m hoping for a quickie with her anyway!” She was smiling but her expression changed and I thought I had gone too far. “I’m thinking about her message. She said to meet her in all caps. She doesn’t always type like that.” “Maybe she just really wants to see us?” “Maybe.” She paused, “Maybe it’s more. I mean she works for the government.” “I think you worry a lot.” I teased. “Me worried!?! Mister super prepper!?! You are so funny.” She faked an exasperated tone. We both laughed. “Hey if we leave now I can get us some Dunkin’ Donuts coffee.”I said. “I can’t leave quite yet.” She returned her attention to her laptop. “I’ll pick it up and then stop to get you. DD is in the other direction anyway.” I offered. “Great. Text me.” I collected my things and headed out for our Prius. I got three coffees and texted my wife. She was waiting in front of the house and we were off to the airport. We got another text from Lillian about where to meet her. We got there and only waited a minute or two before she showed up. Normally she was a stunning petite blond with never a hair out of place so I immediately knew something was wrong, she was just … off. Her blond hair showed almost a quarter inch of auburn roots, her suit coat was slightly wrinkled, she looked really tired and her makeup was… old? Nicole and I looked at each other with equally surprised expressions so I know she noticed it too. Lillian paused and quickly kissed us each on the cheek. She then walked away toward a bunch of open seats in a bar area. Since it was so early the bar was still closed. She opened her shoulder bag and removed another smaller bag and pointedly put her phone in it then motioned for us to do the same. After the phones were safely in the small bag she asked, “Do you have any other electronics? It’s really important, ipad, tablet, work phone, nothing?” We looked at each other and said no. She looked down at the Rolex on her wrist then back up at us. “I know that this is going to sound like I’m crazy but remember that conversation we had after you two met and before we all had sex the first time? Good. That promise of honesty stands during all of what I’m about to say. I love you both and treasure our friendship beyond anything.” She spoke so fast I didn’t even have time to get truly fearful or scared. “You know that virus in Asia? It has mutated. About ten percent of the people don’t die and become immune, about ten percent die outright. About fifty percent die and come back as zombies. The last thirty percent come back as powerful zombies. That’s the only way we can describe them. I put our phones in a bag that blocks all signals. I know they are monitoring me and if I say anything to anyone, the press, you, I mean anyone, they will arrest or just murder me as soon as they can get a goon with a gun to me. Their government and ours are doing their best to cover it up but by tomorrow it will get out. I am heading to D.C. to brief more people but I’m not supposed to even be here now. I was lucky and convinced the pilot to land here rather than Chicago for refueling, otherwise I would not have been able to warn you even this much.” We sat in stunned silence for several seconds. “You know this for sure? How do you know we have until tomorrow?” I asked. “I was at the consulate in a meeting with two major pharmaceutical companies and several military people not to mention all the government officials. I was basically in the wrong place at the wrong time. My boss insisted I needed to be there. It wasn’t my specialty but I’ve been in high end, high security meetings before.” She looked at her wrist again. “During the meeting one of the lower ranked military guys tried to leave. A General stood and blocked his way. After a brief exchange in their language the General drew his pistol and shot the man several times, then turned and shot the General that sat next to him at the table. He then put the gun away and explained. The colonel next to him was a known informant to several news agencies. He advised us all to use the same amount of fortitude to give us all as much time as possible to get ahead of this before none of us would have a chance.” “How did killing those two give you a better chance.” “All international flights will be grounded in about twelve hours. It will take about twelve more hours for the news to get out and then it will be mass panic. Rioting, police lock downs, martial law. Ugly.” “But the, I gulped zombies are in Asia. They cant get here.” I heard the tremble in my voice. “This part gets sketchy. The virus has already been transmitted or transported around the world. We know of dozens of places it has already been suspected with several confirmed.” “But people should be told!” I said. “And when they are it will be chaos and mass panic. That will be at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Thats when the governments decided to go public. It gives government officials and the billionaires time to get home. They hoped for forty eight hours.” She looked at her wrist again, ”About twenty four hours for you.” “This could be contained.” I stammered. She sat stoically, “All the models say seventy five to eighty percent mortality rate. Thats global. At best. That includes military. We’ve talked before about it, even America with all of our guns. Most people will hesitate. She trailed off.” We again sat for several seconds in silence. She finally got up and started pulling the bag of phones out of her shoulder bag. I dumbly stood up utterly disbelieving what I had just heard. Luckily my wife was quicker than me. She stood and grabbed Lillian by the shoulders. “Are you going to be ok? Should you stay here with us? You know how we are prepped so far?” Lillian took a deep breath and said calmly. “I can’t spread the news in any way I can imagine. I can only hope that going back to D.C will allow me to help others after the word is out. As much as I would love to stay here with you two, for my own sanity, I can’t. I need to go and try to help.” “Ok. Do you remember our place? Northern Wisconsin?” “Yes, Tomahawk.” Lilian replied. “Ok, come if you can.” She leaned forward and kissed Lillian, then pulled her in for a hard embrace. I saw a tear fall from her eye. “I love you!” She said quietly. “I love you both!” Lillian said reaching over and pulling me into their hug also. After a second Lillian reached up and kissed me too then pulled away and quickly dumped our phones on the table. She started to walk away but looked back over her shoulder and said, “Blue bears are good and red cats are bad. Just in case.” We stood and watched her walk away. Once she was out of sight, I numbly sat down. My mind reeled. I can’t describe the total opposite direction that this meeting took from my hopeful imagination. After all I at minimum expected to hang out with an awesome and beautiful friend, a little laughter and good conversation. What I got was the end of the world. Nicole finally turned to me and hugged me hard for a long time. Finally she pulled back and looked me in the eye. “Do you believe her?” I thought for several seconds. From her slightly disheveled look, so slightly disheveled that others wouldn’t have even noticed but we would, to her kiss and parting cryptic words blue bears are good and red cats are bad. What did that even mean? I was looking at the floor but I finally looked up into Nicole’s eyes and replied, “Yes, I believe her.” “Me too.” She said with a tremor in her voice. “Lets go.” The next several minutes were a bit of a blur. When we got to the Prius we were about to get in when I stopped her. I opened the rear hatch and buried our phones under a bunch of blankets, get home bags, equipment and winter coats. After getting in I sat for a few seconds. “Do you think our phones are connected to the car?” “They are off.” She said. “If they are, there’s not much we can do.” “Let’s walk.” I said. We walked the parking structure once as we talked. “I hope if they pay any attention that they at least take into account we are being careful and won’t tell anyone.” I said. “My family is easy they are all localish. Your family is all down south except for your mother.” She nodded and asked, “What should we do?” “I hate to sound like an ass but I don’t think we can warn your family easily. Maybe call and tell them we don’t like the way the Asian flu is spreading and tell them we are going up north. They have never taken kindly to out prepper mindset but maybe they will pay a little more attention to the up coming news reports. Your mother won’t notice anything. If you want to go get her… that will be rough on our plans.” “No, my family won’t see this until it hits them in the face. I need to try though.” She said. “We will see what we can do for them.” I said conciliatorilly. “Until then our primary mission I think, is to get up north like you told Lillian.” “Yes.” She said. “Oh my god its so overwhelming though.” She said sagging back. “How do you eat an elephant?” I asked forcefully. She stopped and looked up at me and then said with a small smirk, “One bite at a time.” “Right on!” and I put my hand up. She high-fived me. “The camper is in the drive way. We load that in the next hour or two then get the kids and then take that up north. It’s about four and a half hours one way so nine hours is ten to twelve hours round trip with load and unloading. If we are lucky and we have twenty four hours that will give us two trips and a lot of supplies. For our second trip we can pick up the trailer and fill that and the truck again. If Allen can take the third trailer… but that’s a lot for right now. When we get back to the car we can send messages to the kids and your family. “Mom just got back from her Ireland trip! What if I send her a message saying you really want to hear about her trip to Ireland and Scotland? She should come here for a few days. Even if she left in six hours, we should be able to get her in time and take her with us.” “Great idea!” I said though I didn’t think she would take the ‘bait’. “Call her!” We walked in thought for several moments then I started organizing my thoughts on packing out loud. “Ok. Guns and reloading, books then long term food then our clothes, warm and cold weather then short term food then tools then clothes then more food and games then extraneous items. We understand this but my family won’t.” After a brief pause I continued, “Allen will not agree but he will be happy with us up there so really it’s the same thing. Except if he believes us maybe I can convince him to load our other trailer. As for my sister and brother-in-law. I don’t know, maybe they will listen.” I paused again and inhaled and exhaled deeply. “As for the kids, Andrea will go along because she trusts me. Lars will argue but only because he will miss his computer for a day. He will assume we are crazy but will be able to blame his time off and possibly his job loss on me and will then play that out for as much as he can get out of it.” By this time we were once again near the car. I stopped her. I tilted her face up to mine and kissed her before saying. “The next couple days are going to be hectic. Very hectic. I am going to get harsh abrupt and maybe downright angry not to mention upset and pissed off. Just you remember!” I stared deeply into her eyes. “I will be doing all I can do for us and those we love. Don’t think I am asking you to do something for some self centered need. We are doing this for us and our loved ones.” I then kissed her deeply and reached into my pocket for the key fob so we could geet our phones from the back of the car. We had been prepping for years. About nine years. There wasn’t much to plan. Once I made a decision she didn’t argue though I knew she would if she felt strongly enough. We both started making calls on the 10 minute trip home. When we got home I woke up my son Lars, he is 21 but works evenings washing dishes and such for a restaurant. While he was getting dressed I called my daughter Rose who is 19 and a shift manager at a fast food restaurant. Then I called my mother. When she picked up, I explained that Nicole would be coming to pick her up and to pack for a long stay up north and yes bring her cat. I’m allergic to cats but it’s easier to not argue and get things moving. She didn’t want to come but I told her it there was something special going on. My wife looked at me and said, “Oh nice! Throw me under the bus.” “Yes, it was an after thought. Pick up Rose first it will be quick and easy for you two to pack and load her things in the Prius. Then both of you can get moms stuff. Bring all the cat food and cat litter she has. That will allow Lars and I time to haul supplies up from the basement.” After Nicole left, Lars and I started bringing bins and buckets up from the basement and staging them in the dining room. From there it would be a straight shot out to the camper and truck. Just a few months ago we bought twenty flip top sixteen gallon bins from someone on facecrack marketplace. We used several for different camping and storage needs but many of them were still empty. We used them now packing loads of store bought canned goods and boxing up all our home canned food. All told we had several months of food but that would go fast. When Nicole got home with those two and a Prius full of clothes, they started bringing things upstairs and I started loading as much as was reasonable in the camper. We loaded all our blankets and bed clothes then we started with the cold weather gear and finally books and games. We have a 10 foot long shelf of books we considered necessary for the end of the world. I hooked up the camper to the truck and loaded bin after bin of food in the bed of the truck. I quickly strapped the load down with a cargo net. I had loaded several firearms into the truck and camper and several ammo cans also. The zombies weren’t due for a day or two but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I should have my pistol within reach. During the loading of the truck my mother thought I was crazy but she helped, honestly I think she was just glad to be included and that her cat was coming. Occasionally she had seen a some of our preps, she never saw all of them, and would comment about why we would ever stock up on that much food. We gave various reasons but she would always shake her head and say the store is right down the street. She was flabbergasted by how much we had. The truck and camper were loaded. My son rode with my wife in the Prius. My mother and daughter rode with me. They would stop at my sisters place and explain to them what was happening and I would head straight north. I really hoped my sister would take her seriously. We were on the road by 11:30. Remarkably good time in my opinion. A quick stop for fast food and a little bit of careful speeding and we were there by 4:30. I guess it also helps that mid week traffic is much better. I had dropped the trailer and was unloading the truck into my brothers garage and lean to when my son and wife showed up. They unloaded straight into my brothers house. When we were done unloading I spoke to my wife. “I think you should go to Dubuque and try to pick up your mother.” The look in her eye spoke volumes. It was almost like reading her mind, was I dumping her, then why doesn’t he want me, then why does he want me to go away, and then the change wait it’s still safe out there, this would be the only chance to get her, then splitting up would allow us to maximize our effectiveness in dealing with this. She pulled me down and kissed me. Good she got it, “Be safe!” she said. “You too and keep me posted.” I said. “I’m leaving mom and the pets here. The kids will be with me for faster loading. We will both be back here sometime in the middle of the night. It took another five minutes to explain things for my mother and then we all left. I stopped in town to fill up my gas tank and get drinks. We stopped at another gas station half way back and the clerk must have thought we were nuts when I bought out almost the whole display of beef jerky and a swath of other items. When we were back in the truck I told my son, in the back seat, to just drop all the packages into every nook and cranny back there. We would still need all the room we could get for the rest of our stuff. My phone was kept wrapped in aluminum foil and taken out every couple hours for updates and then re wrapped. This allowed us to speak freely. As I didn’t think they would be listening in on the kids phones and we never spoke about Lillian. When we got back to Milwaukee, I stopped by my brother to tell him face to face what was going on. It hadn’t taken much convincing to get him to go up north, he always had plenty of vacation. What he didn’t believe was that shit was going down. He would leave in the morning. We left and went straight to were we stored the camper. I called that storage place while on the way and simply rolled in and out with no pause to chat. I backed the big trailer into my driveway. We loaded propane and generators more clothes and finally the rest of our food. I packed my toolbelt, electrical tools and all my Dewalt battery operated tools but couldn’t justify the rest of my tools. Between what my family already had up there, mine simply weren’t needed. Also we were running out of room fast. By 1 am we were again loaded. We stopped twice for gas this time and both times we bought out nearly the entire displays of beef jerky and other treats. I was sucking down energy drinks and had bought caffeine pills. My son and daughter just kept dumping the small packages int the small gaps in the back of the truck. I had bought nearly a thousand dollars on that credit card and you could almost not see it they packed it so well. The sky was just beginning to brighten when I pulled into the driveway up north again. I was really tired. We dropped the trailer and then began unloading. Again we were just dumping things in the garage, lean-to and shed. I paused and slammed the rest of my energy drink as Nicole crossed the yard. After a quick hug and as we finished unloading, she said she was thankful for being able to pick up her mother. I’m not sure how she convinced her to come here but we could talk about that more later. “Now you need to get some sleep.” She said. “No, we are going to town to buy whatever we can yet.” I replied. She looked at me for only a moment before agreeing. “What are we going for?” “You get to the drug stores in Tomahawk and buy anything you think we need medical and hygiene wise. I burned up my visa card already so I have about five grand I can spend on my other one. I’m going to Menards and a grocery store. I want to be back by noon. That will be past her 24 hour deadline but it may still be ok.” She looked very tired. “I don’t like that we are splitting up but I understand. I will take Rose.” “I’ll take Lars.” I felt as tired as she looked. The kids just groaned but they had gotten cat naps between all the stops as I was driving. The girls left with us following. On the way I had an idea. When we got to Menards, I rented a trailer and they filled it with 6 foot fencing and a lot of fence poles. I grabbed a cart full of hardware, nuts washers and bolts and all the white gas they had. I then bought out the soups and such in their food section. I was loading all this into the truck when a police officer showed up. He parked a few spots away and approached me from the front. He had a nervous look and his body was angled away with his right arm slightly back. “Good morning!” he said. “Good morning!” I said pleasantly. Loading the last of my things in the truck. Lars came back from returning a cart. “Whats the event?” the officer asked. I looked at him slightly bewildered but then with a look of understanding. “Ahh, fencing, food, hardware.” I chuckled and passed my empty cart to Lars who started taking it back to the corral. I then slowly stepped forward and extended my hand. “My name’s Robert, my wife and I just closed on a property up here, our dream homestead really.” He slowly reached out and shook my hand. “And I promised my son a hunting trip to Montana and a load of food for when he goes back to college in Milwaukee for a few weeks work.” I looked over the side of the truck and pulled up a bag of Bear Creek powdered soup mix, He loves this stuff.” Then dropped it back in. “Ya, not as good as pizza but it will last all the rest of the year and part of next.” He said and smiled as he returned. The officer looked at me for a few seconds and asked, “Where did you buy a place?” “North of Sprinter about six miles. Nice place. Goats, rabbits, ducks, we are going to have it all!” I wasn’t trying to pour it on too much but I had gamed this out slightly in my head. We really had been looking for a place. We really planned to have those animals and many more. “I just had a talk with the guys in the store. They weren’t pissed but they asked that next time I order ahead so I don’t deplete their stock. When I bring this trailer back I will place an order that I can pick up in a couple days. More fencing, cattle panels… I should have bought stock in this place before I pulled out my credit card.” I joked. “So what can I do for you anyway?” “We got a call about suspicious activity. Buying an oddly large amount of stuff.” “This is a lot?” I looked at the large though slightly odd assortment of material in the truck and trailer. “We would pick up twice this much stuff when I worked for a contractor in Milwaukee. Besides,” I continued turning back to him. “I used a credit card to rent the trailer and buy all of this. They have a complete record if something nefarious was going on.” The officer started to visibly relax as I was talking. Just as I finished he got a call on his radio. He reached up and pressed the button. I didn’t know what the few words and codes meant but was quite happy to see him relaxing more and more. We have a friend in Chicago who needs to buy many gallons of white gas for a fire dance performance group and she tells stories of long talks with police officers to explain just what and why they need so much flammable liquid. They are always worried about terrorist and other threats nowadays. When he was done on the radio I asked, “While I have you here what are some good places to eat? I really like Ted’s pub over on west street. Great burgers. What do you suggest for a breakfast place?” To his credit he looked thoughtful for a minute, then “Maggie’s on fourth. Great greasy spoon type place with out the grease.” He had hooked his thumbs in his belt in front of him. “Great for breakfasts! The fork right down the street is only open for lunch and dinner but it is also really good. The new fancier restaurants are driving up prices but those two are still reasonable yet. “Hey dad, Uncle Allen is expecting us soon.” Lars reminded me. Smart kid. Dropped that in at a perfect time. “Hey it was nice meeting you!” I said as I started to step around him to get in my truck. “Yes, you too sir.” He replied. “It’s always nice to see good people moving into the area.” He turned and went back to his car. When we were safely inside the truck I praised Lars for listening and going along with what was happening. As we pulled out of the lot I thought about one more stop on the way out of town. We pulled into my brothers place just before noon. I was really glad to see his truck was there. The radio had been going crazy with the reports of the grounding of all the international flights last night and it got only worse when they grounded all flights and said they were going to restrict all travel by the end of the day. My sister and her husband and kids arrived an hour later. Most of my family was safe. At least as safe as we could be for now. That evening the first reports of looting and rioting started. Then there were reports of some of the rioters biting each other. Most of the reports were coming from other countries so far. I don’t know what words I would use to describe my thoughts and feelings when those first reports came in. It happened. It was happening? Way down deep I was afraid we were doing all this for nothing. I would have to go in and tell the boss that I was pretty sick. Try to return all kinds of stuff at Menards because I really couldn’t afford it. No, they showed people eating each other live on the evening news. For only a split second I felt almost vindicated for all the work over last 36 hours. Then I immediately felt the horror of the millions of people that would die over the next few weeks. Then fear for my friends and family that I couldn’t help right now. Finally the dread of having the end of the word as we know it occur right in front of us and how it would change our lives. I got up and walked to the open bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter. I picked it up and took a long pull from the bottle then turned to my family. Mostly what I saw was fear and worry in their eyes. “Thanks to Lillian we are far ahead of most people right now. I think we are safe enough for the night. Tomorrow we will decide what to do next.” I set the bottle down. “I’m going to bed. It’s going to be another long day tomorrow. Goodnight.” I took my wifes hand and pulled her up off her seat. She followed me, as I walked to our bed I only hoped we would have this one last night be peaceful.


It was just a joke. Everything was a big fucking joke back then. Have messy locker. Heh. Deliberately throw all your trash in the locker. What a hoot. Leave lock off so that your friends can get in on that shit. Fucking hilarious Take all of our school photos, the preview ones that were clouded with a water mark, and hang them up on the door of the locker. God damn comedy gold. You see 11th grade is probably the biggest you'll ever feel in your entire life. You focus way too much on how the world views you and not so much on anything that actually mattered. So no, being a pig on it's own isn't funny, but getting that look. The unsuprised, slightly apathetic, accusitory look that said "You dumb fuck." Priceless. I was sitting in homeroom, which is the second class of the day for some reason. I remember the vice principal walking in. "Ben" He was holding a small caddy that contained gloves, a roll of paper towel, and an unknown chemical in a spray bottle. "Is your locker number 2007?" "Yeah." It wasn't. It was Danny's, but it's a retarded question anyways. There's no way I could confirm that, I mean who actually ever looks at that shit? "You and Daniel need to go clean that up right now, this is ridiculous." I could feel my face getting hot and heard a couple of shushed giggles scattered around me as I got out of my chair and walked to the door. I tried to remember what walking normal actually looked like and tried my best to emulate it. Nice walk dumbass. I hated being put on the spot when I was alone. Vulnerable. I found my way to my locker though silent hallways besides the occasional chatter coming from open classroom doors. Grabbing one of the hallway's trash bins, I pulled off a rotting apple core from the coat hook it was impaled on. I didn't bother with the gloves. It was mostly just stray homework that never got done and wrappers of those breakfast pastries you could buy outside the cafeteria as long as your mom never asked "what the fuck happened to the 40 dollars I paid last week?!" I'm a big boy. I was so focused on ignoring the smell that I didn't even notice Emma and Hailey walk up. Must have been skipping homeroom. Emma looking over the smug smiles of 6 proud owners taped to the door broke the silent awe first. "Why would you guys do this" That's a good question. I shrugged "I don't know, it's funny" "No it's not" blurted out Haley "it's disgusting" I guess I looked helpless enough standing there that Haley started to put a pair of gloves on "you want some help?" "That'd be great" Emma grabbed a pair as well, and the three of us got to work. And by the three of us, I mean I drifted further away from the work at hand whilst Emma and Hailey went into girl gossip flow mode. I stood back and just let them do their thing, picking up little details about who's dating who, etc. Just then Danny, sole proprietor of the locker, walked in from the parking lot with Bacon, bottom left photo in door of said locker right next to "Deaf Boy". Talking loudly and laughing about last night's GTA sesh, Danny sipped off a McDonald's orange juice. Danny wore a huge smile as they approached us. "We got caught huh" He said through a contained, bellowey, kind of laughter as he immediately sucked the last bit of OJ down, then casually tossed his cup into the locker, splatting specks of juice not only on the freshly wiped locker walls but also onto Hailey's face. We all laughed minus Haley, clearly annoyed that she was interrupted in her talk about prom with Emma. "What the fuck?!" She said through a bitter smile Ignoring it, and still laughing I said. "Yeah! Emma and Haley are helping us clean up" "Well it looks like they're doing a pretty good job" Danny said with an impressed look. Bacon put his arm around my shoulder. "Yeah It looks like they have it under control" That bellowey laugh infected Danny's voice once again as he choked out "You know what that means right?" Bacon's face went stone cold. "No consequences for our actions." My eyes widened "You wanna do it again?" I pointed at Danny, "Maybe we should do it again." He retortored before I even finished talking. Bacon chimed in "I'll do it again" "Let's fucking do it again" "We're gonna fucking do it again" A calm authoritarian voice interrupted from behind us. "No. You wont." Danny let out a huge dramatic gasp as he whipped around with bug eyes and a Shakey core to look the vice principal in the face. He always did that immediately following an aural plan of fucking up when vp was nearby. "Drop the theatrics Daniel. Why are Emma and Haley cleaning your locker?" "We tried to stop them but they overpowered us." Haley giggled at this "Girls where are you supposed to be?" Emma started to studder out "Mrs. -" "Get there now. You both have an hour of detention" Emma and Haley pulled their gloves off and grabbed their books from the floor. As they turned around to leave, Haley looked at me like she was waiting for me to say something. I really wanted to, and I would of, had it not been for the knot growing in my stomach. I had to keep my cool and I knew the illusion would be ruined as soon as I opened my mouth. The two girls walked away silently, probably until they were in safe bitching distance. I wondered if my name would be brought up in that conversation. Danny was unfazed by this and I don't think Bacon was even paying attention. "Finish cleaning this up then get back to class. You all get one hour." "C'mon man we just got here" Danny rebuttled "Well then that's 3 hours for you and Bacon" Danny scoughed and spit in the trash can as the vice principal walked away. I know Danny didn't actually care that he got detention. If you missed class, you got detention and Danny was always missing class. Hell, the fucker was in school every Saturday anyways making up all the homework he never did. We all periodically found ourselves making up homework and chipping away at our detention during Saturday school. It wasnt that bad. Sometimes, I'd even tag along when I had nothing better to do. As soon as Danny got his license was when we started to regularly skip class. We'd skip English and go get taco Bell. Next day, get called into the office. "Where were you 3rd block?" Sandy would ask I'd studder out a dumb excuse she was completely apathetic of. "That's one hour of detention" At one point I stopped making excuses and just told Sandy the truth. Didn't change anything. Just streamlined the process. It really was better for both parties. At one point though Bacon told me he "two-streamed" and pissed all over the front of his khaki shorts so he just left. When Sandy asked him why he missed 4 classes, he said the same thing verbatim. He didn't get detention. Anyways it was during one of these skipped periods that the 6 of us would take a joke too far and fuck up beyond redemption.


‘Humans are smart,’ his Mama had said. Between the gentle embrace of her teeth, neck prickling with heat as she carried him by the scruff, she had spoke that wisdom into his skin. Muzzle held high even as she had limped her way into their home, leaving bloody prints in the shape of her paws. ‘They are crafty’, she had continued, softly laying him on the cave floor, ‘Cautious and paranoid. *Dangerous*.’ Then she had lowered herself to the ground with a groan, leaning on her side. Stretched out her hind leg to inspect the wound there, fur matted and tinged with red. Licked at the side of his face when he had shrunk back and whimpered, eyes wide at the sight of her blood. ‘Don’t cry, little one. Take this as a lesson,’ she had whispered, slowly rubbing her neck into the space between his ears, ‘You may not have weapons like they do, but you have your *mind*. You have to be smarter than they are. Slyer. More cunning. Promise for me, son. Promise me that you will.’ ‘I promise, Mama,’ he had shakingly said, ‘I *promise*.’ And she had *smiled*, muzzle pulling back from her pretty teeth, eyes glazed. He had tucked himself against her chest, more terrified than he had ever been in his life. She hadn’t made it through the night. From then on, he had hardened. Adapted. *Survived*. Learned how to protect himself against the humans, how to keep himself fed. Knows which ones to go after and which ones to leave. Teaches himself to be wary. So, when he sees the little child in the red hood, he doesn’t immediately go after it. He stalks and waits and watches, hides behind trees and foliage. Eyes alert and ears flicking to catch any sounds. (Human children are inherently naive, he has learned. Clumsy too, struggling to walk when pups are already hunting on their own, helping out the pack. Their easy targets when they are solitary but it’s rare that they ever are. Almost always surrounded by the others in their pack. Not so different in that regard, he thinks wryly.) But, this child is well and truly *alone*. Humming to itself as it skips its way through the winding path, a basket held in its hand. It’s unaware and it’s careless. When it stops to talk to a squirrel that had happened to walk into its path, he thinks, *this is the one, this is it*. When it stops again to sniff some flowers, he makes himself known. Slinks out from between the leaves of a bush and watches as the child jumps back, blinking owlishly at him. “I’m sorry,” he says slowly, keeps his jaw loose and his tongue heavy, his maw feeling foreign like it always does when he speaks the human’s language, “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just saw you walking here and wanted to say hello.” The child tilts its head before it smiles, jittery sounds coming from its mouth that he figures is laughter. It boldly walks up to him and lays its hand on his head, rubbing it. He fights the urge to snap at its fingers. “That’s okay, Mr. Wolf!” it says, patting his head before returning its arm back to its side, “It’s very nice to meetcha! My name’s Red, what’s yours?” He slowly wags his tail in a show of contentment, wiggling his ears in a way that has the child laughing again. He doesn’t try to smile as it tends to have the opposite effect on humans. “Red? What a peculiar name,” he replies, keeps his voice soft and light, “Though, I suppose, I’m not one to talk as I have no name. You may call me whatever you like.” The child brings its hands to its stretched cheeks, rocking on its feet. “I’ll stick with Mr. Wolf then!” it says, raising its arms like it just accomplished something, “Also, Red isn’t my real name, silly! It’s just what people call me.” It lifts its shoulders in a jerky movement that he still hasn’t found the exact meaning of. The child is still smiling so it mustn’t be bad. “Well, Red, may I ask what you are doing out here?” he questions, slightly tilting his head down to peer at her with wide eyes. “I’m here to see my granny, she lives just down this path, near the brook,” it says, “She’s sick and I brought some food to make her better!” It raises the basket up to his snout but he pays no attention to it, mind already working. (Granny means grandmother, he remembers. An elderly human, female; usually weak. And this one happens to be *ill*. If he plays this right, he can have more than what he had aimed for. He could have a feast like one he hasn’t had for *years*.) He has to fight down the pleased growl that crawls up his throat. “That’s a *shame*. I *truly* hope she gets better,” he says, flatting his ears and hunching his body in an appropriate fashion, “I wish there was someway I can help- Ah!” The child jumps at his exclamation, circling its arms. “I just remembered!” he continues, eyes glittering, “There’s a flower back from where you came, small and with blue petals. It soothes muscle aches and sores, if you eat it.” And the child looks at him with its mouth wide open, teeth displayed. Its hands are pressed together in front of its face. “*Really*?” it says, and he bobs his head up and down in a way he’s seen humans do a million times over; the child smiles big in response, “Thank you, *thank you* Mr. Wolf! I’m gonna go look for it right now!” It runs down the path, red cloak billowing around it and he finally allows himself to smile. He stalks up the road in the opposite direction, tail wagging softly behind him. He thinks he quite likes the name Mr. Wolf.


Sarah had met him at a dinner party. It felt like she knew him even if she was sure she didn’t. In the weeks after she felt this strange feeling in her stomach, was she in love? After all this time? She called her friend Margaret to be sure. Margaret was known as the love expert, she had had many boyfriends and still got married at 23. A lot of her friends were really jealous. Margaret explained to her that indeed Sarah was in love. Her body was telling her that she wanted to be with this man, even if they had just met. As a test, Margaret advised her to go on a blind date. If she couldn’t focus on the date, Sarah was in love. While she was getting ready for her blind date, she couldn’t stop thinking of his face. Would she ever meet him again? She applied her new lipstick and watched herself in the mirror. Confused about the advice of Margaret Sarah went to the restaurant looking for a man with a purple flower. She froze in the middle of the alley. Through the window she saw him. The man that she was in love with! And.. did she see it right? Was he holding a purple flower? While holding her breath she tried to walk confident to the restaurant. She was welcomed by the smell of delicious Italian food, but this time she couldn’t care less. Nervous she gave the waiter her name and followed him to the table. When she met his eyes, it looked like he froze as well. Was it just because he recognized her or did he feel the same? She couldn’t tell. He greeted her with a kiss on her cheek. She slowly sat down. “I’ve already ordered some antipasti and a bottle of red wine, I hope you don’t mind,” he kept watching her. “Sounds good.” “We have already met, haven’t we?” He looked at her hands. “Yes, we did. We met a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember?” Please don’t blush, she thought. “I remember.” He looked directly at her. “Do you think we can call this a blind date if we have already met?” The waiter brought a beautiful plate with antipasti and let them taste the wine. The wine was amazing. “I don’t know. If you don’t want to continue our blind date because we have already met, you can tell me.” She tried to look away and hoped that he couldn’t see that she didn’t want their blind date to end. “Do you want this date to end?” She felt that he was trying to look into her eyes. “I want you to want me.” “I’m sorry, I didn’t get that.” I looked sideways and choose not to meet his eyes. “I asked if you could give me the salt.” “Sure.” He gave me the salt and while I wanted to take it from him, my arm wouldn’t cooperate. “Do you want the salt or not?”, he smiled at me. It was silent for a second, what seemed as hours to me, and then I finally took the salt from him. “Thanks”, I whispered. “I met someone a couple of weeks earlier.” Sarah froze, afraid of what he was going to say. “You did?” “Yes,” he touched her hand while he took the salt from her. “I didn’t think I would ever feel this way again.” Sarah could barely look at him. She felt tears coming up. Tears for someone who was almost a stranger to her. “Will you see her again?” She whispered. “I hope so.” He took a sip of his wine and Sarah followed. She slowly drunk from her glass, thinking of surviving this blind date. She should never have taken the advice of Margaret. If she hadn’t gone on a blind date, she wouldn’t have such a terrible evening. “Have you tasted the mushrooms? It’s amazing with the flavour of the wine.” She tried to avoid his gaze while she tasted a mushroom and took a sip of wine afterwards. “You’re right. It is delicious. The combination is perfect.” “Have you met someone lately?” She felt his eyes watching her. Curious for her answer. “Actually, I did.” She took a deep breath. “But I don’t think I will see him again.” Their eyes locked. “If it was me, I would love to see you again.” Sarah feelings overwhelmed her. “You would love to see me again?” “Yes, I would.” He touched her hand again, this time he didn’t need the salt. “I want you to want me too.


No one paid any attention to the ragged old man on his hands and knees vomiting in a corner of one of the numerous dark corridors of the Dredges. If they had, they may have noticed that he wasn’t so old, perhaps in his mid-thirties, and that he wore the stained and faded uniform of a vice captain of the Inter-Solar Exploration Agency beneath his tattered long coat. But his unkempt hair and over-grown beard, along with the condition of his clothing gave off the impression of both old age and bitter hardship, so no one bothered to take further note of him. Gregor Thames picked himself up off the ground slowly, the churning in his stomach subsiding for the time being. He slowly made his way down the poorly lit hall, using the metallic wall to support his trembling legs while trying to avoid stepping on the other denizens that lay slumped over on the floor. They were either in the throes of a drug-induced paralysis, the welcome abyss of sleep, or dead. Here in the Dredges, deep in the bowels of Salvation, life was about oblivion, and whatever brought it on was far better than the cold reality of the waking world. As he stumbled along, Gregor couldn’t help letting his mind wander back to his past. Indeed, it was due to his past that his mind would often take off on its own, to times when his name and position had meant something more. He was one of the first explorers to ever cross the Outer Quadrant, beyond Pluto, reaching into the darkness of Void space to find what lay beyond the solar system. He had been an ace pilot, able to skim through the Void with the ease of one born for the task. He had earned commendations and medals, exalting his bravery and dedication to the furtherance of mankind’s ambitions. That last thought made him angry. All the medals in the known galaxy wouldn’t do him the least bit of good now. He, like so many before, had become addicted to Irellium-9, the drug required for quantum-space travel. Without it, humans would go mad in the Void, their brains unable to process the absence of time. After so long, the mind became so dependent upon the drug that without it, a person’s perspective would become permanently altered. It would sometimes take seemingly hours for a drop of water to fall from a leaky faucet into the bottom of a sink. At other times, days would pass in the blink of an eye, and the one experiencing it would sometimes die of dehydration without even realizing it. After his symptoms became too evident to hide anymore, the Exploration Agency had thanked him for his service and discharged him with a moderate severance. The credits spent faster than he imagined they would, and before long he was homeless and wandering around Salvation, doing odd jobs that didn’t pay much, but allowed him to purchase black market rations of I-9. As the months rolled by, his condition grew worse, so much so that those that had been willing to offer him work finally began turning him away. He had turned to theft, robbery and at times, murder, to acquire the drug he needed. He had been without it for days now, if his mind could be trusted (it couldn’t), and his withdrawal symptoms were reaching an unbearable state. He was out of money, and here in the foul Dredges no one had anything worth stealing. He was going to have to make his way up to one of the main decks to see if he could find any way of obtaining more I-9. He worked his way up the various corridors and stairwells till he reached the sub-level of the cargo deck. His stomach had begun churning again, and time distortions were threatening to overtake his mind, so he moved as fast as he dared, lifting a deck plate and climbing out onto the loading floor before anyone could notice him. Staying out of sight behind the various shipping containers and storage units, he snuck around to where he knew ships would be offloading illegal cargo to sell to the highest bidder. He had to be careful; these were pirates and smugglers. They’d kill him without hesitation if they caught him trying to steal from them. Stepping behind a stack of metal crates he almost ran directly into a tall man wearing what appeared to be an exo-suit. He began to stammer drunkenly about being lost, in the hopes this stranger wouldn’t decide to end his life right there and then, when the man shushed him and pulled him in close to the crates. “Who are you?” The man asked, his voice somewhat muffled by the breather on the exo-suit’s mask. “My name’s Jon.” Gregor lied. “I was just lookin’ for a place to sleep.” “Well, Jon, this looks like it might be your lucky day.” The muffled voice replied. “I need some help, and by the looks of you, you need a fix. I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Gregor tried to back away, not wanting to have anything to do with whatever this guy planned, when the man reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out a hypo-pak. Gregor’s heart almost leapt from his chest. It was I-9! He instinctively reached for it, and the man pulled it back away. “First, you help me. Then, I’ll see to it you have enough of this to last you a long time.” He said, wiggling the pak between two fingers. It only took a second for Gregor to make up his mind. He nodded at the man in agreement. The figure in the mask nodded back, and then turned his attention back to the storage units. “See that unit there, number four-twenty-one?” He asked. Gregor peeked around the stranger’s shoulder at the small building. It looked to be about ten meters square with a typical coded lock door. Two men armed with plasma rifles stood next to the door, talking quietly while casting searching glances around the dock. “I need to get inside that unit, and to do that I’m going to need a diversion to get those guards away from the door.” The man said. He turned back to look at Gregor. “Jon, I need you to set a charge back towards the loading area. The explosion should get their attention long enough to let me get past that door.” “How are you going to get past that lock?” Gregor asked. “Those aren’t easy to bypass.” He should know, he’d tried several times to get into a storage unit in this area, and had never been successful. “Don’t worry about that,” The man replied, “just take this and set it off where I told you.” He handed Gregor a small pulse charge, nothing that would cause much damage on its own, but would make a loud enough noise to bring the whole dock running to see what had happened. “How am I supposed to get away when they come looking?” Gregor asked. He wasn’t comfortable about being someone’s stooge. “You look resourceful. You’ll figure out something.” The man said. “When you get clear, meet me back here and I’ll make good on my word. Now go!” Gregor hesitated for a moment, then started making his way back toward the loading areas. He felt queasy about this whole deal, and he was sure it wasn’t the withdrawal pains. He didn’t even know what this guy looked like under the exo-suit, but the thought of landing a nice stash of I-9 drove him. He hoped the stranger would keep his word and not leave him empty handed. He reached the loading area and squatted down behind several skids stacked high with barrels. He fumbled around with the charge, trying to recall his military training on how to set the timer. After a few minutes he managed to get it set for one minute. He set it down behind a barrel and slipped away to find a hiding spot before it went off. He had just ducked under a plastic tarp when the charge went off. It was louder than he had expected, and when he heard several more explosions go off he realized something hadn’t gone as planned. Peeking out from his hiding spot, he saw the reason for the additional explosions. Apparently, those barrels had contained something volatile, and the charge had ignited them. There was a huge fire burning on the dock, and several people were running around trying to save their goods from the flames. Auto-drones came whizzing in and began spraying flame-suppressing foam on the fire, but it would take some time before they would have it out. With everyone distracted by the fire, it seemed like a good time to vacate his hiding spot and make his way back to the stranger. He was able to get back to the storage unit without drawing any undue attention. He saw that the guards had indeed left their post to investigate the disturbance, and the door to the unit was standing open. He thought about going back to where he and the stranger had agreed to meet, but curiosity got the better of him and he decided to go have a look at what was worth all this trouble. Looking around to be sure no one was coming, he made his way up to the open door to peer inside. What he saw was the man in the exo-suit loading up a pack with small metal cartons out of a fibresteel crate on the floor. There was nothing else in the room. He started to enter the room when the man spun around, a small pistol appearing in his hand from seemingly nowhere. “Hey!” Gregor whispered harshly. “Take it easy, man!” The stranger lowered the pistol. “I thought I told you to wait for me back behind the crates.” He said. “What did you do out there? It sounded like you tried to blow up half the station!” “Hey, I got you your distraction, didn’t I?” Gregor retorted. “Now give me what you promised, so I can get the hell outta here!” The stranger chuckled through the mask, “Ok, pal. You’re right. Here.” He tossed one of the small cartons to Gregor. “Take it easy with that. It’s not your average stuff.” Gregor opened the carton to reveal at least two dozen hypo-paks neatly arranged into three rows. It was easily worth a couple of thousand credits on the market. He’d be set for weeks on this. He turned to leave and a voice barked out, “Who the fuck are you?!” The two guards had returned, and were taking aim at Gregor and the stranger inside the unit. Reflexes took hold and Gregor dived to one side of the door just as plasma bursts came screaming through the doorway. The smell of burnt ozone quickly filled the room as Gregor watched the man in the exo-suit duck behind the crate and begin to fire back. Realizing that he was most likely about to die, Gregor pulled out one of the hypo-paks. If he was going to be killed, he’d be killed while riding a wave of I-9 to the afterlife. He stuck the needle into the carotid artery just beneath his right ear, closed his eyes, and squeezed the injector. Instantly, the sensation of transcending time and space engulfed him, and his consciousness soared with a euphoria born of the quantum stimulant. It was powerful stuff, like the stranger had said, and his mind reeled at the potency of the drug. It was some time before he realized that he could no longer hear the gunfight taking place. He opened his eyes and looked around. What he saw, he simply couldn’t believe. Time had been frozen. Blazing ribbons of plasma energy hung motionless in the air. The combatants were as still as statues, poised in fighting positions on both sides of the doorway. Even the smoke from where the bolts had burned into the walls behind the stranger wasn’t drifting away. All around was absolute silence. Gregor had a wild guess of what had happened, but it defied logic. He’d been here countless times, but never like this. Before, he was always at the helm of a ship equipped with a powerful rift drive capable of punching holes in the sub-quantum field and traveling great distances in an instant. Time would stop, and he would be left alone to pilot the ship through the dimensional rift while periodic doses of Irellium-9 were administered by an automated system. Still, even though he lacked a ship, or a rift drive of any sort, he knew where he was. He was in the Void. He slowly stood up, his mind trying to make sense of what had just happened. It took an enormous amount of energy to open a rift. Yet here he was, outside of time with nothing more than a dose of I-9. The drug! He looked at the drained hypo-pak still in his hand, then at the fibresteel crate it had come from. On the side were printed the words: EXPERIMENTAL USE ONLY IRELLIUM-13 PROPERTY OF CENTAUR CORP Irellium-13? What the hell was that? Centaur? That was the biggest pharmaceutical company in the solar system. They had invented I-9 back during the solar expansion. It seemed they had been working on improving their formula. But this? How long was this going to last? Would it be permanent? Gregor shook his head in an attempt to clear it. He was on the verge of a panic attack. He needed to calm down. He walked over to the door and stepped past the two armed men. Walking across the dock was as eerie a sensation as anything he’d ever experienced. The silence was palpable, and the scenery around him was beyond surreal. People were frozen in place, rushing to fight a fire that was unmoving. Waving his hand through the flames he could feel no warmth at all. He walked to the lifts and pressed the call button. Nothing. He was wondering what to do about his current situation when a thought occurred to him. He walked back to where the crate containing the Irrellium-13 was located. Taking the pack the stranger had been filling, he emptied the rest of the contents of the crate in the pack and slung it over his shoulder. If and when this stuff did wear off, there was no sense in just leaving it laying around for someone else, he figured. He headed back down into the Dredges with his stolen goods. There was no way to tell how long he was under the influence of the drug. Time held no meaning in the Void. He had hidden the pack, and then went around the station, taking food, clothing, and other valuables as he came across them. He even went as far as to give himself a clean shave and trimmed his long hair into a more manageable length. In the back of his mind was the fear that he would never leave the Void, that he was doomed to an eternity of being alone in a dimension where there was no sound, movement, or anything. He tried to keep his mind occupied and not think of it, but it was difficult. He was in the process of rummaging through a cabinet of fine wines in the Paramour Club when suddenly it felt like everything shifted. His equilibrium was thrown off and he almost fell down. Suddenly, the air was full of sounds. Music was playing, people were talking, and the smells of cooking food filled his nose. He stepped back away from the cabinet just as a burly man in an apron came through the door of the room he was in. “Hey, what are you doing back here?” The big man demanded. “Sorry,” Gregor apologized, “I was trying to find the restrooms.” The man fixed him with a suspicious look. “Well, they’re not in here. Get out!” As Gregor left the club, he stopped and reconsidered his situation. He now knew the effects of the drug weren’t permanent. Relief washed over him, and at the same time the knowledge struck him as unbelievably humorous. He could escape time at will! He began laughing, first to himself, then out loud. Passers-by gave him odd looks, but he didn’t care. He could do anything he wanted! Anything! He walked along, still laughing at his fortune. Salvation station, hell, the entire solar system, was his for the taking! In an opulent office, high up in a skyscraper overlooking Mars City, a meeting was taking place between two powerful men. “Mr. Lions, I assure you that the agent we sent was of the highest caliber. If I had any doubts of his skills, I would never have sent him.” Said the first, a younger man in his late twenties with short dark hair and wearing an expensive suit. “I believe you, Mr. Drake, but nonetheless, the samples are missing, your man is dead, and I am at a loss of approximately two and a half million credits. This must be rectified.” Replied Mr. Lions, a gentleman whom most would consider being in his late sixties, but in fact was much older. He wore an even more expensive suit of clothes. “I’ve had reports that at the time of the gunfight between your man and the smugglers, several people on the station noticed certain items missing. Some items were of value, and some were rather mundane. Though Salvation is well known as a den of thieves, this particular rash of thefts were carried out, in some circumstances, before the very eyes of the victims. One instant the items in question would be there, and the next, they were simply gone. This lends one to the possible conclusion that a third party has become involved, and is using the samples in a most irresponsible way,” He finished. “I’ve had those same reports, Mr. Lions, and I already have agents scouring the station looking for anyone who may have been in the vicinity of the loading docks at the time of the incident in question.” Mr. Drake responded. “Have faith, sir, we will find and deliver your property, as promised.” Mr. Lions rose from his seat. “I do hope so, Mr. Drake. I do hope so.” He turned and began walking toward the door. “If this person continues to abuse the samples in the same manner they have already demonstrated, we may end up with a much larger problem than we face now. You know of what I speak.” Mr. Drake waited until his guest had left, and then opened a comm unit on his desk. The holocron display lit up and a dark-skinned man wearing a visor came into view. “Yes, Mr. Drake?” The man asked. “Leon, we will need to commit more resources to finding the thief. I want two more units dispatched at once to Salvation.” Mr. Drake ordered. “Yes, sir.” Leon replied. The holocron blinked out. Mr. Drake sat back in his chair. The situation had spiraled out of control, and now someone had a chemical that was potentially the most dangerous substance in the galaxy. The fool couldn’t possibly realize the catastrophe using the Irellium-13 could bring about. If this went wrong, and his and Mr. Lions’ worst fears became reality… He got up from his desk and walked over to the window overlooking Mars City. Its gleaming lights and towering buildings stretched all the way to the horizon. Millions of citizens lived here in a splendor never thought possible a scant few decades ago. The three mega corporations that had built the Inter-Solar Union were headquartered here. Wealth, power, and ambition radiated from the very streets themselves. It was the shining jewel of the solar system; a living monument to the greatness of all mankind. And one ignorant thief was on the verge of destroying it all without even realizing it.