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The Zerulian Society

Delusional Babble

By Erin CynthiaPublished 4 years ago 6 min read

THE ZERULIAN SOCIETY

By CynthiaTravis

It was my last day of Fall and Winter was already creeping its coldness into the routine. The trees had shed the last of their leaves a week ago, but snow would still need time before falling from the sky. The wind had a bitter sting that would come and go, reminding the landscape to always grow its strong roots first. Thomas moved deer into these woods a few years ago, after society labeled him “DELUSIONAL” “PLASTIC!” The voice within him said, “Our Mother earth will not tolerate mass production forever.” Thomas chuckled. Before society weaseled their doubts of surviving existence into his head, Thomas was a simple man. He labored his time and body away working for a manufacturing company located 7 miles outside of town. Mom and Dad passed away some years ago and other family members moved to different states in all different directions. The trailer his parents left him was falling apart and options for Tom were running out. All but one friend left his side, due to his “Delusional Babble”, who has teetered with the idea of following suit like the rest. “Why can’t anyone see that eventually we will be living on a layer of trash? We buy, throw away and repeat this over and over and over again. TRASH! TRASH! TRASH!” Johnny merely shrugged. “You think I’m crazy too, huh?” Thomas asked “Thomas, it seems this idea of “trash Earth”, has consumed your mind. I mean, think about it. You believe the Earth will one day have a new layer over its crust, made of plastic trash.”, Johnny replied “Earth, Mother Earth will take action before it reaches that point!” “But yes, Johnny, don’t you see how mass production of items we re-use is doing this?” “Do not get me started on milk jugs, you forget those were once glass, right?” Thomas barked with a sneer across his face. “Landfills will not be able to hide this phenomenon forever!” “Hey look”, Johnny gasped, “I’m going home, you're delusional. Next you’re going to say there are too many different types and upgrades of cell phones.” “There are!” There is no need to constantly upgrade hardware. Software maybe, but we are creating more options for no reason that leads to different chargers into a kitchen drawer, where do all those cords end up Johnny?” Thomas asked. “To the trash!” Johnny moaned with a force sense of enthusiasm. “NO, to the landfill!” Thomas erupted with spittle misting the air. Johnny wiped the spray off his face as he headed to his minivan, no longer being able to deal with his delusional babble that seethed itself into every interaction, Johnny decided to end their friendship, this would be the last time he would see Tommy. While raking the leaves off his driveway, Thomas pondered over the conversation he just had with his friend. “What does it take for one’s behavior too sway radical in conclusions? He thought to himself. Thomas’s childhood home, his parent’s trailer, was within looking distance on the counties landfill. Cities outsourced their garbage from surrounding states to Thomas’s hometown. The smell, the site, the thought of a mountain growing full of trash boggled his mind. How high can they pile the trash before it is unbearable to the citizens nearby. How many landfills and how much faster with the increase, with the rise in human population? Every night, Thomas watched the landfill with awe and fumbled through thoughts littered in his mind. Until it happened.

While the town was powered down and the residents lay fast asleep, he witnessed a phenomenon, a green streak of light darted across the sky then landed directly in the center of trash mountain. To this day Tom asks himself the same questions that have circled and danced in his mind. The questions that have taunted him year after year.

While recollecting the sequence of events that night, Thomas decided to ride his bicycle to the landfill to further explore. This is how Thomas discovered a complex alien species living among us hidden beneath our trash. The most unsuspecting spot for aliens to explore. The alien race was growing. The more garbage meant more demand of landfills. The faster the human population throws away reusable items the faster the aliens spread. Although their technology was far more advanced than humans current supply, the aliens lacked numbers to harm or began an invasion. Maybe they were here for researching or other endeavors? Thomas had no idea. On his short bike ride to the dump never had he imagined witnessing an intergalactic species hiding in plain sight. This pivotal point in his life would create the “delusion” that would suffocate all other aspects from then on.

He could see the glow faintly just above the rim of trash mountain. Against his own conscience, Thomas decided to climb and investigate the strange scene. Carefully he maneuvered the rough terrain to the top and gathering his wits for what was next to come. His eyes were glued open, ears were perked up and all attention dominated on an unearthly figure, fixing what seemed like a door. The creature used tools on a contraption that did not seem of this world. Wiping his eyes in disbelief, he asked himself in a whisper, “Am I really seeing this?” Panic and fear lay beneath the surface of his skin. As the sweat started beading down his face, and his brain telling his legs to run, his curiosity kept him still. Curiosity being dominant Thomas stayed and witnessed the unexplainable site.

The first encounter with the unexplained creature was strangely calm that it felt practiced almost the equivalent of a scripted scene with the slight but familiar feeling of a reunion. The fear subsided and an autopilot like feeling took control over the situation. The aliens (which was the only way to describe the creature) seem to know Thomas. Recognizing his approach immediately the foreign creature stood patiently waiting and watching while Thomas strolled upon. This meeting would be the first of many.

Thomas left the insane rendezvous with a motive, a choice and new outlook on life. The aliens were able to vocally communicate in a similar fashion as humans. Taller, slender and a blue reptilian scaled skin attributed to their looks. “Zerulian “, was the preferred name they went by. They were a group mixed of warriors, explorers, and merchants. Earth is a connecting planet between two home bases, they use to repair and refill ships. Over the years a faction of the Zerulians began a “Long Term Campaign” to stay on earth. For the past 300 years these particular and peculiar Zerulians have been reaching contact with selected humans. Eventually a collection of them began to organize thus forming a secret society. This society uses a Barn Owl as a symbol of identification and direction all throughout earth. With wing to its side and feet perched, the Black and White Barn Owl symbol stands in a mystic position.

This society supports executives and furthers all Zerulian ambitions. The most recent plan for execution is the growth of mass production creating more trash. More trash will create need for more dump sites, which then become more “pods “spread throughout earth. Zerulians follow galactic laws of zero violent invasions of planets. But they do Delight in that of mass manipulation of foreign planets, like a child plays a video game. Injecting conditioned “Agents” into human operations is the most effective form of manipulation. They began controlling minds through music, movies, and propaganda.

Tom left his first Zerulian meeting with a ring, a handbook, a new outlook on life and a choice to either join the faction or die. His curiosity for the trash mountains surrounding him and his desire to protect his planet offered a new path so to join would be his destiny.

His first objective was to create an aura of “Delusion”. This will drive away friends and family while creating a cover for any type of erratic behavior. If society views you as crazy people will pay less attention so we can advance Zerulians agenda. This was not the case for all members within the society. Political, military, and other leaders needed a normal front while operating. His second act for his personal plot is to isolate his living conditions. This would create a better location for more frequent and less disturbed meetings. Secrecy is the most coveted tool that all Zerulians cherished. Although they possessed abilities to manipulate memory, avoiding the process was the preferred approach. Tom found it amusing that when he used the truth it drove everyone away. His eccentric babel that led to “Delusional” ranting, painted a classic picture of “coo coo” from outside observers. Objective Complete.

“Normal” society, blinded by all the shiny lights, dismissed anything Thomas preached.

End

short story

About the Creator

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