Reapers of the Damned

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Reapers of the Damned Page 13

by Saqib Sadiq


  Strike down thief home

  Obeying instantly it entered the power shaft its bioelectric body reacted with the pulsating discharges of energy. The two forces grappled each other thick strands of electricity crackled within the ringed structure. The electric discharges grew stronger and raced with incredible speed around the circular shaft. The wanton influx of energy was too great for the power shaft to withstand. Its dazzling metallic bracing vainly strained to keep it intact. In a spectacular explosion the struggle between the two warring forces ended.

  The erupting fireball blasted in all directions, shooting upwards to the upper level, the already battle weary cannon capsule was incapable of withstanding another pummeling. Its support columns threw off massive bolts that held it in place capsizing the mighty weapon. Packed with tremendous force the rampaging ball of fire incinerated everything in its path. It annihilated the eastern wall of the space station reducing it to rubble.

  Simultaneously the explosion was buffered from the rest of the station by the containment panels placed between sections. Not to be denied, the subdued detonation still managed to decimate the doors to the Quasar Cannon silo. The guard posted at its entrance was bombarded by fiery fragments raining down on him from the blown up door. The debris littered alcove covered the mangled body of the barely conscious guard. He lay on his back hopelessly gasping for air with severely punctured lungs.

  The super entity came upon the pitiful man; a fleeting sensation of remorse overcame the gaseous creature. Violence towards other beings was not in their nature; they did not enjoy watching humans suffering this way. The collective conscience felt the need to address the killer prey; they wanted to make their intentions clear. A form of communication that the humans could understand was needed.

  Through its biological link with the injected pathogens the super entity learned that the mutation process of the slain marksmen had completed. Their dormant corpse rested in the upper level of the space station. Utterly abandoned and with its power cut off the darkened corridor of C&C cast a shadowy veil over the horribly contoured bodies. As grand puppet masters of yesteryears animated their marionettes so too did this collective of ancient entities. Infused with a supernatural life force their fallen prey rose once more.

  Their eyelids slid open exposing the gelatinous eyeballs that they had hidden. Their still functioning eyes could see their imminent demise yet were powerless to defend themselves. From either sides of the corridor autonomously powered SENTINEX guns came to life. Still encased in their space suits the ghostly marksmen new the guns were scanning the rupture made in their suits by the vengeful entity. Speaker patches warned of impending repercussions upon detecting unauthorized DNA, but the ominous warnings fell on deaf ears.

  True to their words the guns set themselves ablaze as they dispensed a slew of projectiles. The incoming salvos peppered the space suits frantically flinging ripped shreds of fabric. With face shields shattered and air regulators hissing the obedient marionettes made a hasty retreat to the elevator.

  The short carriage ride lowered them by one level. The elevator doors slid open revealing the barren expanse of the Medical Center. Its doors had been viciously pried open, without properly trained medical personnel the desperate crewmembers of V-323 were forced to plunder the medical supplies of the station so that they may live. Now the gaping entrance easily admitted the ghoulish beings. Reaching for the medical center’s intercom one of the reanimated corpse configured it for a public broadcast. It then leaned in close so that he could speak into the embedded microphone. Its lips and mouth were cut open when SENTINEX blasted its visor but it still managed to broadcast the words its masters wanted to convey. It began speaking in a horrifyingly unnatural voice, which flowed throughout the forsaken space station.

  It is not our wish to attack you. It was you who forced us; you brought this destruction on yourself. We warned you to stop your harmful ways, but you wouldn’t stop, arrogance blinded you. Not even after one of our brethren sacrificed himself did you take heed. After such a clear sign of our displeasure you continued to exploit us. What! Do you expect us to standby and have our dwellings destroyed? No! We are a sentient species. We have the right to exist. We will defend ourselves! We will stand liberated! Now bear witness to our unbridled fury!!!

  CHAPTER

  FOURTEEN

  Glowing exterior lights normally bathed the outer entrance of the ATV depot. However with the station’s infrastructure suffering from frequent power outages the lights were extinguished, a pool of darkness was cast over the usually busy entrance. The sturdy metal doors barely contained the deep engine roar coming from the other side. The engine roar revved up and down gaining momentum with each plunge, as if a trapped beast was waiting to break out of its cage. Soon another sound accompanied the commotion; it was a low whirling sound, which also steadily grew in pitch. Suddenly the doors began to shake making a terrible racket. The gyrating noise was the unmistakable sound of metal grinding metal. The center of the reinforced doors began to bulge. The bulge steadily grew larger morphing into a rising cone. Thin strands of metal began to twirl off the tip of the cone, suddenly a large drill bit burst through the doors, followed by a rampaging drilling rig.

  Colonel Ramsey was in the cockpit frantically trying to get away from the station as quick as possible. “This is not a retreat.” He reassured himself “I’ll head for the mines and make a counter offensive from there.” In truth the words spoken by the super entity via its semi-human conduit frightened him greatly. However his conscious mind was not ready to admit defeat and attempted yet another misguided venture.

  The path to the mining tunnels was lit by the silver light of the asteroid’s moon as it shone from up above. The steely light exposed the rough terrain it was littered with craters of all sizes, some too small to be noticed others big enough to swallow an entire stealth craft. In his haste to escape the colonel did not bother with the rig’s headlights and blindly rambled on. The vehicle bobbed up and down as its tough metal threads fell upon the rocky surface scattering loose material in its wake.

  From the aft viewing port he could make out what was left of V-323’s imposing structure. The refinery and its network of tubules had long been destroyed; the bulbous sphere of the quasar cannon, which defined the identity of the station; now lay crumpled at its mount. By now the besieged space station was entirely cloaked in a white shroud. The wrath of the collective had gone unchecked and it had the entire station within its grip. Every inch of the battered structure had been captured. It was only a small matter to dispense the deadly pathogen to the few remaining survivors.

  The cunning entity detected the frightened man’s hasty retreat, not to be denied a total victory a section of the super entity broke away in hot pursuit. The living fog glowed as moonbeams showered it with cooling light. The creature had to be stealthy if it did not want to be detected beforehand. So it hovered just above the surface hugging the changing terrain as close as possible. Dipping in and out of craters and coasting along the slopes of razor sharp cliffs it narrowed the gap between it and its prey.

  Oblivious to its presence the drilling rig chugged away just a few meters ahead. By now it had reached a smooth stretch of terrain that lead directly to the nearby mining tunnels. The creature morphed into a thin stream of white mist, barely distinguishable in the surrounding silvery illumination. Receiving instructions from the collective to “strike down supreme killer prey” the lone gas creature penetrated the moving vehicle.

  Ramsey did not need a space suit because he was safely encased inside of the mammoth machine. His ungloved hands easily manipulated the cockpit’s controls. However his agitated mind was not functioning properly, it did not register the looming obstacle up ahead on the well traveled path. The rig’s threads collided with a large boulder nearly fracturing its segmented joints. Despite this the all terrain vehicle managed to grip the sloping surface and began to climb the steep surface. The boulder’s height was great and comp
letely lifted one side of the rig off of the ground. Luckily before the machine could be tipped over it made contact with the surface once more.

  Ramsey was thrown around the cockpit from the jarring movements. He sustained a few bruises but no serious injuries. The sudden and violent jolt sent his heart racing pumping adrenaline into his blood stream. Now fully alert to his situation the stunned man paid more attention to navigating the large machine, hopefully he wouldn’t make such a careless mistake again. He manipulated the controls to execute a thirty-degree turn that’s when he noticed the controls were not responding as they used to, the movements of the vehicle had become sluggish. “Must be something wrong with the hydraulics.” The colonel thought.

  When white smoke began to rise from the floorboards he incorrectly concluded that the drilling rig had sustained heavy damage. “Oh great the hydraulics are venting fluids, they must be wearing themselves out.” However he couldn’t bear to stop and make repairs. The proximity of the mining tunnels was too great “I know I can go another few meters.” He released more power to the threads goading the machine forward.

  The smoke became denser forming a thick carpet of fog. Ramsey found this behavior to be most peculiar “Smoke doesn’t do that” he thought to himself. The fog wrapped around his boots obscuring their shiny black leather. The colonel began to feel cold. Not knowing what was happening, fear overcame his mind once more. His teeth involuntarily began to chatter as his body became colder. He increased the cockpit’s temperature to alleviate his condition but his body refused to stop shivering. The carpet of fog began to rise; the swirling mass formed a protruding sphere, which steadily grew in size.

  Ramsey was gripped by terror he helplessly watched as the sphere rose out of the ghostly white mist. The cloudy orb grew shapelier forming a familiar silhouette. The frightened man couldn’t immediately identify the shape, it wasn’t until it began to rotate forward revealing a bony jaw line and fleshless face that the colonel recalled what he was looking at. The face of death was a common constant on the battlefield. Corpse rotting for several weeks had their flesh stripped away exposing a nude skeleton. His mind conjured up those ghastly scenes once more thus confirming that the sentient fog had replicated a human skull.

  “No! This can’t be happening, get away from me.” The frightened man undid his safety harness and reached for the cockpit’s door. Part of his mind was still acting rational and warned him not to open the door unless he wanted to be sucked out into the suffocating vacuum. He moved away from the door and slid back into his seat to face the vapory skull once more.

  “Please don’t do this to me, I beg of you.” The pitiful man pleaded with the staunch predator. However the leering skull only drew closer its hollowed eye sockets gave no sign of remorse. The trapped man pleaded one last time “You can’t do this to me its uncivilized.” in response the skull’s teeth began to elongate forming sharp incisors. The gas creature laced the imitated formations with pulsating strands of bioelectricity. It moved forward with a clear intent to kill. Alone and defenseless the vile man threw up his arms in a vain attempt to defend himself, however the gaping maw found its mark and bit into the thick neck. The slashed throat spewed out a spray of crimson blood. The warm fluid splattered the cockpit controls and trickled down the sides of the console.

  Thunderstruck by the vicious attack he lost control over the drilling rig. It sharply veered off of the beaten path and crashed into a nearby crater. The wounded man was thrown forward, without his safety harness to restrain him he smashed into the unyielding control console. He reeled back into his seat a deep gash ran across his forehead. For a few seconds he was blinded by the severe impact. He sat limp in the cockpit seat gasping for air. Still conscious, Ramsey knew he had to get medical attention before he passed out from a severe loss of blood.

  When his vision returned he surveyed the cramped enclosure and found that the eerie fog had vanished. Familiar with the entity’s mode of attack he knew that he was infected by the mutagenic pathogen, it was only a matter of time before he would see the effects. Light reflecting from his gaudy lapel pin drew his eyes down to his uniform. It was soaked with blood flowing from the wound in his throat; “My tunic is usually splattered with the blood of my victims,” he amusedly thought to himself.

  Feeling weak he quickly grabbed the first aid kit stashed in a compartment underneath the console. He broke open the plastic case and helped himself to an ample supply of cotton gauze. He wrapped the white fabric around his slashed throat, soaking the supple material with deep red blood within seconds. “This should slow down the bleeding long enough to make it back to the medical center.” He remembered how desperate his crewmembers were after they were injured from the super entity’s initial attack and figured they had probably ransacked the Medical Center “I wonder if those damned crooks left any painkillers behind.” He gripped the rig’s maneuvering controls and reversed power to the gears. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  The drilling rig started climbing out of the crater when the injured man noticed his skin turning gray. He became tense once more his lungs constricted slowing his breathing “Oh God! Do I have to be alive to see this?” through shallow breaths he began to sob, “Why couldn’t that god awful freak of nature kill me?” completely demoralized he cut power to the engines, without any means of locomotion the heavy rig slid back into the sloping depression “What’s the point of living if I have to see myself waste away like this?” he sat in the cockpit utterly defeated allowing the forces inside of him to do their deed. He thought back to how he lived his life, of all the battles he fought, of all the pain and suffering he caused. He had to admit that he had squandered his life; he was a pitiful man and all of his accomplishments amounted to nothing.

  As his mutation becomes more pronounced his mind slipped into another reality. He began to view his surrounding in a detached manner, as he was watching them from someone else eyes. He found he couldn’t move his limbs for they were no longer his; they yearned to do the bidding of their new masters. The severe loss of blood had taken the broken body to the edge of death, it was the exploding energy pack clipped to the colonel’s utility belt that made the transition complete. The small explosion had enough force to tear open his gut spilling his intestines and so ending the illustrious career of a blood crazed butcher.

  His long gone rational mind did not know the exact mechanics of the explosion. But his arch rival Nicolai Cruchev would testify before a Gemcore appointed judge that he had his Photonic emitter’s energy pack booby-trapped. His chief security officer configured the energy pack’s power nodules with ultra light bio scanners embedded in the pack’s casing. The bio scanners were rigged to trigger an explosion once they made contact with the mutagenic pathogen.

  The captain knew Ramsey would never willingly affix such a dangerous device to his body so he had to be tricked. They gleaned information of off the colonel’s psychological profile, which was overtly obtained from Gemcore’s computer system. His profile described him as being a coward when it came to realities beyond his comprehension and that he loved his life so much that he would cling to any hope of survival even if it was a false hope. With this knowledge he made the unsuspecting colonel believe he could defend himself against the entity using energy weapons.

  The docile judge found the former captain guilty of corporate terrorism, espionage and premeditated murder. The commercially sponsored court duly found Cruchev eligible for corporal punishment. The noble captain’s parting words still resounds with anarchist legions, seeking to overthrow the unruly rule of the mega corporations. “If a man is punished and branded a terrorist for terrorizing the likes of Colonel Ramsey then god help us for we have become truly twisted.”

  *****

  The forsaken halls of V-323 were consumed by a shroud of misery. The ghastly site of convulsing bodies strewn every which way would drive any sane man to despair. In the final stages of mutation the collective of gas creatures decided to leave th
eir fallen prey rotting; they couldn’t stand inducing such foul flesh.

  The gas creatures only wished to disengage from the collective and return to their ancient sanctuaries to continue their eternal slumber. However before separating they made one last decision.

  Call killer prey to their deaths

  And so they gave the command to reanimate the corpse. Having done this the super entity disengaged from the mining space station and headed towards the refuge of deep space. The obedient slaves tried following their masters but were unable to. Left to their own demise the half living beings aimlessly walked the corridors of the condemned space station. Their trapped souls were not eager to transcend this world and go on to the next. They knew their eternal resting place would not be pleasant.

  They helplessly watched as the vigilant automatons once more rid the station’s corridors of unwanted intruders. The smoldering ruins echoed with the sound of sporadic gunfire mercilessly slaughtering the abominations. Desecrated and filled with the stench of rotting body parts the structure’s original luster had been robbed by its creators. Indeed anyone looking upon Gemcore mining space station V-323 would agree that it was a wretched sight.

  ###

  About the Author:

  How to describe Saqib Sadiq (a.k.a. Ravi Chen)? Answer, angsty youth (now mature adult), sci-fi geek, and devout Muslim. All three seemingly disjointed aspects of his personalities frequently converge and brew a firestorm within him. Feeling at the perilous center of a trisecting Venn diagram his only solace and means of communicating his raw emotion is through writing. This tempest tossed piece of his being is absorbed by the one and only Ravi Chen, his alter ego.

  The author took his love for Science Fiction and set out on a journey of self enlightenment. Studying his religion he found it awe inspiring and sought to implement it in his life. However after seeing his way of life demonized, believers and non-believers questioning its place in civilized society; he attempted to enlighten the naysayers via a genre he and they both knew and loved. Thus giving birth to his work and mission in life.

 

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