They were suited up in full battle armour, fighting aliens similarly suited up. They had to gain control of the alien ship in order to defeat them, but the aliens kept changing, adapting to the soldiers' fighting styles and weapons. They had to distract the aliens. So they focused their efforts at the front of the ship. All the aliens began to hoard there, leaving only a few sentries at random locations on the perimeter. One of the soldiers with stealth mode on his armour, engaged it and moved around to the rear where the entrance was. As their sentries swapped out for fresh troops, with his cloaking device turned on, he was easily able to slip onto the ship. Undetected, he caught the alien soldiers off-guard. When he killed the first one, the weapons components of the alien armour unexpectedly released from the alien suit. They then gravitated towards him, attached and adapted to his suit. What remained of the suit and the alien’s body then disintegrated and completely disappeared without a trace.
The soldier found that he could easily control the new weapons by just thinking about wanting to use them. By the time he reached the bridge, he had taken out all the soldiers on the ship and was wearing a suit fully fitted to take out most any opponent. When he sat at the controls, he was surprised when the chair came up to connect to his suit, giving him full control of the weapons systems, and allowing him to take out the remaining alien sentries before taking out the horde attacking his troops. As he stood to go and open the rear doors, the chair automatically detached itself from his suit.
As whoops of victory echoed outside, the downed aliens’ suits began to attach themselves to the rest of the team and the alien bodies disappeared until there was no sign they even existed. But it sounded like more aliens were on their way, just beyond the ridge in front of the ship. The commander directed the soldiers to get on the ship and man the battle stations located around the outside edge. But what started to come over the ridge was not what they expected. These were bigger than the aliens and seemed immune to what they were hitting them with.
Someone mentioned “feeling like they were in the Matrix”. They would have to exit the ship for this fight. When they left the ship and advanced to the ridge, they realized they were not fighting aliens anymore. What they saw was a variety of beasts and monsters but also fairytale characters with unexpected evil intentions, coming out of various buildings, cages and containers.
As they moved forward, the details of what was happening became more clear. Carousels with sinister clowns rolled out of barn-sized buildings into view until the clowns would leap rabidly towards the soldiers. Evil-looking flying and fanged sheep burst out of top-opening cages and came closer until the soldiers could see a twisted little Bo-Peep on the back of one sheep shouting orders to her herd, shooting mini-missiles out of her little umbrella. The gates of corrals flung open so monstrous horses could gallop forward with amazon-sized cowgirls on their backs wielding shotguns and crossbows. Life-sized Barbies stormed out of glass cases as the doors swung wide and they marched across the ground aiming clawed hands to shoot poison darts out the perfectly manicured tips. Giant werewolves growled and drooled as their chains were released and they ferociously advanced looking for their next meal. Raging bulls the size of Mack trucks stampeded out of their opened bucking chutes while shooting barbed spikes out of their horns. It was like every nightmare you could imagine all at once coming towards the ridge that the soldiers were defending.
They needed to find who was controlling the release of these creatures. Someone noticed there was one building off to the side with nothing emerging from it. Again using stealth mode, three of them gained access to the building. There they found a multi-tentacled creature at a control panel, flipping switches to release the menagerie of killing machines. When it realized it had been found out, it disappeared before the soldiers could get to it. They moved into the room and started closing the buildings to stop any more creatures from being released.
Returning outside, the world has calmed down, the remaining creatures taken out, but the soldiers’ ship is destroyed and the only way they have of getting home is to figure out how to fly the alien ship. As they take various stations around the bridge, they discover that they are able to easily read the alien controls and intuitively know what they have to do to get it off the ground and headed home. As they start to fire the engines though, all the creatures they thought they had killed begin to appear inside the ship.
So far they’ve managed to keep everyone alive, but they weren’t prepared for this new onslaught. Members of their troop begin getting taken down. Like the aliens, when they hit the ground, they disintegrated and disappeared completely, not even leaving their dog tags behind. O’Brien went first. He was a good man, husband and dad. His wife and kids will take it hard. Marlen was next. Her partner’s going to be enraged that we didn’t have her back good enough to keep her alive. Then Shaughnessy, and Charkley, Gosman, and Shurkson. All good soldiers. One by one, the troops fall. They start to get the upper hand, when their commander looks outside and horrified, sees dozens more creatures crawling up the outside of the ship, somehow released from their prisons.
It seems hopeless, but they keep fighting, their numbers dwindling.
Suddenly a voice, seemingly coming from the sky says “Okay guys. Time’s up. I’m pulling you all out.”
In the next instant, they are all in what looks like an operating room, each of them on their own stretcher, wearing VR goggles.
Reality comes rushing back.
It was all a game that they paid good money for. It felt so real. They could all still hear their hearts pumping in their ears, feel the adrenalin in their veins.
What a rush!
They are all definitely going to come back here again. But they’ll wait a while to get their feet back under them.
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Rage
Content Warning: Domestic Violence, Assault Rage D. A. Ratliff “Who did this?” My voice echoed through the house. All I wanted was a cup of tea, but one of the twins, running through the house like maniacs, knocked it over. My nerves tingled, and every muscle in my body felt coiled like a spring. Survival seemed out of reach.
By D. A. Ratliff7 days ago in Fiction
Until You Understand
You wake somewhere new. No memory of the night before. Light arrives from no visible source and refuses to cast shadows. The walls are pale, unmarked, faintly warm. The room has edges but no corners. Sound travels too cleanly. There is a door behind you. You know this without turning. You turn. The door is sealed. No handle. No seam. Only a rectangle slightly darker than the wall around it. A clock without hands is mounted at eye level. It ticks anyway. In the center of the room is a board set into the floor. Black and white squares. Perfectly even. A chessboard large enough to stand on. There is a desk made of glass along the far wall. On it rests a single sheet of paper. It wants a signature. You do not touch it. A tone sounds. It is calm. The board hums. Pieces rise from the floor. They do not slide into place. They emerge as if the room exhales them. Pawns first. Then rooks. Knights. Bishops. The King. The Queen. They arrange themselves. The tone sounds again. You understand without being told: it is your turn. You hesitate. The clock ticks louder. A sign fades into the wall beside the board. Stand here. Wait your turn. You step onto a white square. The room stills. A pawn moves on its own. The tone sounds. You are expected to respond. You choose a pawn. It is close. It seems harmless. You move it forward one square. The tone stops. The board hums. Nothing else happens. You wait. Another pawn advances. The tone sounds. You move again. The rhythm establishes itself. Tone. Move. Silence. You begin to anticipate. You think one move ahead. Then two. The board allows this. It does not resist. It simply answers. A bishop disappears. Not taken. Gone. You do not notice. Two turns later, a square darkens. The light narrows. The room feels smaller by a margin you cannot measure. You do not connect this to the bishop. The clock ticks. You keep playing. A knight vanishes. The hum deepens. The air grows denser. You adjust. You protect your King. You sacrifice a pawn. You gain space. The Queen is gone. You do not miss it yet. You will later. The board continues. You begin to understand the tones. One is for urgency. One is for error. One is for delay. You learn when to breathe. You learn when to wait. A rook disappears. The wall behind you warms. You turn. The door remains sealed. You play faster. You try to win. The board does not reward this. Three moves later, a row of squares becomes inert. You step onto one by habit. Your foot does not lift. The board holds you in place until the tone releases you. You stop rushing. You begin to watch. You notice that when a piece vanishes, the room changes later. Never immediately. Always delayed. Always proportional. You begin to count. One piece lost: light shifts. Two pieces lost: sound tightens. Three pieces lost: space contracts. The board is not punishing you. It is teaching you scale. You test it. You sacrifice a pawn. Nothing happens. You sacrifice another. The clock ticks louder. You sacrifice a third. The ceiling lowers by a breath. You recover a piece. The ceiling halts. You stop thinking about winning. You start thinking about cost. The board does not care about victory. It cares about consequence. A piece you save now will matter later. A move you make now will close a door you cannot yet see. You play more slowly. You let a knight fall because you understand what it will buy you. The room warms. The ticking softens. You learn that every square is a future. You learn that speed is not control. You learn that reaction is not choice. The tone sounds. You wait. Not because you are told. Because you see the board. You see the path your hand almost took. You see what it would have cost. You choose differently. The room exhales. The clock grows quiet. The door does not open. You are not finished. You make a move you have already lost. You see it this time. You do not take it. The board waits. The room waits. The tone does not sound. You move anyway. Not to escape. Not to win. To accept that every square you touch becomes the world that follows. The door unlocks without a sound.
By Tifani Power 6 days ago in Fiction
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