Tag: Writing

48. Interlude & Cassandra

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

Interlude

“This is fucking insane, Jen. You’re pushing 60.” Terry paced her office, running his fingers over his head for the umpteenth time. His hair stood ruffled and messy at odd angles on his head, and paired with his wide-eyed stare, it made him look half crazed. Comparatively, Jennifer felt strangely calm – her will set, the way it used to be when she worked field missions as a younger woman. It was the resolve and sense of purpose she had been lacking in her life since she retired, and she realized that she had desperately missed this feeling. She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror as she finished pulling back her hair into a tight ponytail. It was true that she wasn’t young, but she didn’t think she looked her age, and thanks to her recent gym obsession, she felt more physically fit than she had in the past decade.

Terry groaned audibly, running his hands through his hair again. He could see that he wasn’t going to convince her to not go, but he wasn’t done trying. “Certainly this should be run up to someone in another branch? There’s got to be someone with training more in line with this mission. Some group of commandos that will cream themselves at the thought of infiltrating an alien ship.”

Jennifer shook her head as she stepped out of the bathroom. “With the tech they have, there’s certainly surveillance. If we take too long planning and make a big fuss among too many different people, we risk them finding out that we know about them, and we lose the element of surprise. It has to be now.” She paused for a moment, then added. “Besides, Polypt said they were going to make their move soon. We don’t have time for bureaucracy.”

 As she strapped on her holster, Terry scoffed and gestured to her gun. “You’re going to storm an alien shape with a fucking sidearm! Tell me you’ve got better weapons at least?” She ignored him. Attempting a different tactic, Terry swung around and gestured toward Larry, who wagged his tail weakly at the acknowledgement. “Who’s going to take care of the dog!?”

Larry whined softly, as though to punctuate the question. “You will,” Jennifer said. “He needs to be fed in an hour. One cup, food’s in that cupboard.”

Terry took a deep breath and let loose a string of expletives with so much force and volume that it caused Larry to jump slightly in alarm. Then her friend walked out of her office, grumbling loudly as he went. Jennifer settled behind her computer, checking in with the Stream briefly. A part of her wondered if their team was already monitored and if they had already lost the element of surprise she was banking on. They had spent too much time deliberating on the matter as it was.

When they had first gathered for the meeting, the possibility that their office was surveilled was brought up immediately. After all, they were one of the groups that were actively looking into finding the source of the Stream and the passengers of Flight 5071. If they were being watched, then certainly the aliens already knew about Polypt’s presence, though Polypt said that she doubted they were being given any more than minimal attention. Still, out of an abundance of caution, they had kept that initial meeting brief as they improvised an alternate meeting location for field agents and for team members that wished to volunteer to go on the mission. They had dispersed from the office, knowing that they had to approach the new meeting location quietly and separately. It was one a little removed from a normal safe house or any of their known locations. An abandoned barn set far out on a rural property that someone passed daily on their commute to work. They all left their phones in the office and arrived at different times, having parked at varying distances and hiked in. Just arranging and arriving at the meeting location took up most of the night and the next day, even if only half the team had been summoned. The other half maintained operational procedure back in the office, keeping up the appearance of business as usual.

 Jennifer had to find a way to transport a large insectoid creature as well. Luckily, Polypt seemed capable of compressing her body tightly into small locations, and bending in ways that made Jennifer feel uncomfortable to watch. She confined herself into the back seat of Jennifer’s car, and Jennifer parked far enough out from roads that their hike in was made across a wooded landscape before they came to the field where the dilapidated barn stood. The meeting itself was long as well, as they hashed out who would be going, when they would go, and what they would do when they got there. A lot of their plan relied on Polypt’s knowledge of the alien ship, which was sadly sparse as she had been a prisoner there.

In the end, Jennifer had insisted on going. Polypt would be there as well. Vincent had enthusiastically asked to be brought, but she had to turn him down, uncertain of how he would handle field work. She would be bringing Manuel though, as well as the two that had been assigned to finding Flight 5071, Billy Hall and Jake Reese, as well as half the field team, all eager to finally be of use. In total, there would be 10 of them – 9 humans and a human-sized preying mantis.

 It was probably at some point during the meeting that Cassandra had been freed from her imprisonment on the Stream. After the meeting, the team that would be going to the alien ship stayed together to hash out details, visit the craft that Polypt had reached Earth in, and agreed to meet up within 12 hours, giving them enough time to rest, refresh, and prepare themselves. Polypt remained at the vehicle with Vincent, who insisted on at least attempting to understand the tech enough to possibly give them an advantage on their return to the ship.

 Now, sitting and checking the Stream, Jennifer could see that the group in the other world were resting. Soon, one of them would be given the choice to come back to their world, at which point the Stream would end and the aliens would begin their invasion. She stared for a long moment at her daughter’s sleeping form on the screen, curled up with the elf. It was reassuring to know that even when the Stream stopped, her daughter at least had found some small semblance of happiness. Assuming they overcame their enemy…

She went down a mental checklist of everything she needed. She wanted to arm herself a bit better before she arrived at the ship, which would require one stop on her way over. “I’m ready,” she said out loud to Larry. He gave a low woof and wagged his tail. She shut down her computer and stood to leave her office before pausing a moment.

  Turning back to her desk, she carefully slid the top drawer open and pulled out the envelope with the letter Cassandra had left. She folded it and tucked if carefully and securely into a pocket. She held her hand over it for a moment once it was put away. It seemed silly to bring it, she didn’t know if she’d have a moment to read it, and she risked it being damaged or lost if it wasn’t kept safely here. But still… With a sigh, she moved over to gently rub Larry between his ears and left.

Cassandra

 I stifled a scream as four floating objects appeared suddenly in the air before us. They were black and shiny, reflective in the dim light of the cavern. One hovered close, bobbing low, and I found myself staring in shock at the small and warped image of my own face barely perceptible on its shiny surface. “Greetings,” it stated in English, its voice tinny and hollow, like listening to someone over a phone.

 Captain Kaphryn’s grip on her sword was so tight that her knuckles were turning white. “Was that… did it speak?” she asked, her voice expressing her discomfort at the situation.

 Lyre frowned, shifting close, and I could feel the warmth of him pressing against my shoulder. I noted that both Peyton and Lucas shifted closer together to stand in front of Lexie. Asterollan’s bright glow as he reached for his magic illuminated the entire room.

The orbs hovered in the air before Peyton and Lucas, bobbing gently, silent. “Greetings,” Peyton finally said, her voice even and smooth, just at about the same time Lucas cleared his throat and nervously said, “Yeah?”

The orb that had addressed them bobbed lower. It seemed to study their grouping briefly – Peyton and Lucas and Lexie. Lucas frowned, looking like he was about to try to swat the thing away, when it twisted and bobbed closer to me. I drew a deep breath, staring into the reflective black surface as it smoothly slid closer, hovering inches from my face, and did my best to steel my nerves so I wouldn’t take a step back. These things had been watching us this entire time. Certainly they wouldn’t harm us now? “Greetings,” it said again.

I frowned and said, “Greetings?” Raella narrowed her eyes as I spoke English back to the orb.

 The orb twisted in the air. “You are to be presented with a choice,” it said, its voice flat and robotic.

I blinked in confusion, and looked around at everyone else – they all looked confused, and scared. “Just… just me?”

“Yes. You.” I swallowed hard.

“Is it speaking your language?” Raella asked at the same that Lyre asked if it was speaking English.

 “English?” Lexie squeaked, her eyes boggling.

“You can’t understand it?” Lucas said in surprise, frowning at Raella.

As everyone continued to talk in confusion, I stared back at the orb. “What choice?” I asked, my mouth dry, my voice barely perceptible above the clamor.

Only Peyton focused hard on our conversation as the others talked. She stepped closer to listen better, standing shoulder to shoulder with Lyre. As the orb spoke, I felt the blood drain from my face. “You can return home.”

“Return home?” I whispered.

“Only her?” Peyton asked loudly. “She’s the only one that can return home?” Peyton’s voice caused the other conversations to quiet down. Lyre’s head swiveled to look at her, understanding her by whatever magic had made it so that Peyton, Lucas, and Lexie never had to learn the language here. For a moment I silently cursed her for speaking up.

“Home?” Lexie said, her voice a near reverent whisper.

Lucas muttered a comment to her asking if she was a parrot and she elbowed him.

“Yes,” the orb finally said, its voice vibrating with a pleased hum.

I swiveled my head around to look at everyone else. Peyton stared back at me evenly, her lips thinned and her expression thoughtful. Lucas frowned, looking confused, and Lexie stared at the orb with wide, sad eyes. I tried very hard not to look at Lyre, but I felt his hand grip my arm. “But… just me? Why just me?”

“Because you were chosen.”

“I don’t want to go home. Can’t someone go in my place?” I glanced briefly at Lexie before looking back up at my reflection on the orb.

“No. But before you make your choice, know this: if you don’t return home, it will be destroyed.”

I felt my mouth drop open in shock at the statement. “What? Destroyed how?”

“We will destroy it,” the orb said, its tinny voice once again taking on the pleased hum. I felt a shiver run up my spine.

“And who the fuck are you?” Lucas said, his voice louder than usual, angry.

“That does not concern you.”

My mind raced, considering my options. If I didn’t go home, it’d be destroyed? Everyone I had known my entire life – my entire family, all my friends, coworkers, the patients at the doctor’s office I worked at, my dog… everything, destroyed? “I’ll go back,” I said immediately. “But can it wait a day? I have something important to do here.”

“No,” the tinny voice hummed, and for some reason it sounded so smug I wanted to hit it out of the air. “You must make your choice within the hour. You are out of time.”

“But I have something I have to do here!” I repeated, my voice getting shrill.

“That does not concern us.” Lucas actually did swing at the orb then, but his fist whished harmlessly through air as it floated out of reach. “We will give you time. Make your decision.”

As it floated away, Raella said, “What did it say? You can go home?” I felt Lyre’s grip on my arm tighten at her words.

Lucas began to angrily pace underneath the orbs as Peyton relayed the entire conversation to those that hadn’t been able to understand it. As she did, I stared absently, watching Lucas pace and the way his animosity made Peter tense as well. The spider chittered, its eyes glittering in the low light of the cavern. “We may need you against Shadawn…” Raella began weakly.

 “She has to go,” Lexie spoke immediately, cutting Raella off. “She can’t let Earth get destroyed. My family… my baby brother, my dad… mom…” Lexie’s voice choked a little as she spoke, and she turned to me, gripping my hand tight, tears welling up in her eyes. “You have to go back! You can’t let them die!”

I stared back at her wordlessly. When I finally worked up the nerve to look at Lyre, I saw grief on his face, but understanding as well. I had expected stubbornness and was a little relieved, but more than that… I felt exhausted. Overwhelmingly sad. And I realized then that I had already made my decision.

“Wait… You can’t go. They won’t let someone else do it? It can’t be you!” I blinked in surprised confusion, turning to look at Asterollan as he shouted suddenly. Everyone had turned to look at him in surprise at his outburst.

  “What?” Lexie started angrily.

Asterollan pointed at me as he spoke, his brow furrowed. “She said she had a disease before she came to this world. Being here made it disappear. If she goes back, and the disease returns… she’ll die. She’ll die! She had less than a year to live!” I gaped at Asterollan for a moment and he stared back, his expression furious. “I don’t want you to die,” he said fiercely. I hadn’t even considered the idea, but what if he was right? What if I got home and the cancer came back? Was that part of why I had been chosen to make this decision?

Who was making us choose?

 Now it was Lyre’s turn to angrily say, “What?” I avoided looking at him, cursing the moment that I had told Asterollan about my cancer. Lyre shook my arm briefly, trying to get me to look at him. “What does he mean by that?”

Lexie looked stricken, staring at me. “No,” she said softly, drawing the word out.

I swallowed hard but gripped Lexie’s hand tight. “I’m not going to let Earth get destroyed,” I told her resolutely, staring directly into her eyes. She looked a little relieved, but mostly terrified and sad.

“You can’t…” Asterollan started.

I looked at him, cutting him off to say, “I already made my decision.”

I asked the others to give me some time in my last hour here and pulled Lyre with me into one of the derelict buildings. The second we were alone, he pulled me close, pressing his face to mine, kissing me desperately. “Is it true?” he gasped.

I closed my eyes tight for several long moments, forcing myself to take three deep breaths, but then felt that I was wasting what little time I had left. I opened them to stare back into his bright blue eyes and nodded. He had always been pale, but paled considerably more at my nod. I placed my hands on his face, rubbing my thumbs along his cheek gently. “It might not come back. I might go home and be just fine.” He didn’t look convinced, so I added, “There are treatments. They might extend my life.” I remembered how bad my chances had been when I had discussed those options with the doctors before.

“I will find a way to bring you back,” Lyre said, his expression set with determination. “I don’t know how long it will take, so you have to do everything in your power to live as long as you can. I will bring you back!”

I swallowed hard. I thought about the therapies that the doctors had discussed before, the low quality of life that they brought on, for such a short extension to my life – maybe months, they had said. Maybe an extra year, if I was lucky. I knew logically it wasn’t worth it in my case, but I nodded as he spoke. “I promise,” I whispered. “But you have to help defeat Shadawn. You have to make sure the others succeed, finish what we started here…” He gripped the sides of my face, pulling me in for another desperate kiss that left me breathless.

As I gave in to this one last brief moment of passion, I heard the voice of T’Keran whisper like a soft breeze in my ear.

(The favorite of my favorite is my favorite…)

 I hoped that meant Lyre would be safe.

47. Interlude

On By MaryIn 2023, WritingLeave a comment

Jennifer languished in the warm water of the gym’s shower, allowing it to wash over her. It was relaxing to simply exist, without thinking or obsessing over everything she didn’t know. Her workout had been enjoyable – she was now spending a little over two hours at the gym each night. She felt stronger than she had in years, especially for a woman her age.

As she stepped out of the shower, she could hear her phone vibrating in her gym bag. She forced herself to have patience, drying herself and dressing before looking at the device. Several missed calls and text messages, all from her team. For a moment, it brought her immediately back to that first day – when she had stepped out of her morning shower and found so many missed messages and calls about Cassandra’s flight. The similarity of the situation sent a shiver down her spine. She pulled up a website immediately, checking to see the most recent videos from the Stream.

She watched the battle with the fire giant closely, awed at the power on display. Cassandra seemed to focus mostly on a supporting role, healing fallen companions. Cassandra had rarely liked taking the lead on things, even as a child. She watched the battle end suddenly with the young girl from their world falling into a trance and communing with the giant, which she identified afterward as the fire god. And then the truly shocking moment – Lexie, looking directly into whatever was capturing the video feed, saying, “What the fuck is that?” She pointed, acknowledging for the first time that there was something there- something physically present where they were.

She had seen what was recording them.

The office was in turmoil over the events, but Jennifer didn’t call a meeting immediately, much to their shock. “It’s the middle of the night,” she told the staff that anxiously greeted her as she returned to the office. “And even if it is a new development, there’s still nothing we can do but watch. Let the others sleep for now, and we’ll discuss this at the morning meeting.”

Despite that, Terry arrived minutes later, carrying two mugs of coffee. He set one on the desk for Jennifer – black and sweet, just the way she liked it. Leaning against the wall, he rubbed a hand through his short hair. Jennifer took a sip of the coffee he had brought her, and raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah,” he said. It seemed he was about to say more, but then he shook his head and took a long pull from his own cup. “I’m surprised you’re not treating this as more of an emergency. I thought you’d want all hands on deck.” She smirked at him and he groaned and took a very long drink from his own cup, nearly emptying it. “I could be sleeping.”

She traced the rim of her mug with a fingertip, glancing at the Stream on her desktop monitor. “I think I’m just happy that there is something that is physically there and recording. Or at least confirmation of it.” She paused for a moment and added. “But even with that confirmation, I already know we won’t be able to do anything.” Terry frowned but said nothing. With a sigh, Jennifer sat back and took a sip of her coffee again. “I don’t think we’ll be the ones to figure this out. We’re going to need luck, or a miracle, or an intervention.”

She had been right in her assessment, and the team didn’t make headway at all. All they could do was watch. There was a lot of excitement about the Stream when those that were being watched attempted to mess with the recording devices. “Scry balls,” Vincent called them one day.

“Scry balls?” Jennifer asked. She had seen them called the same thing on the internet, but wasn’t sure where the term came from.

Vincent nodded. “In the game Dungeons and Dragons, there is a spell called Scry that allows you to spy on someone from a distance. It’s kind of like that…” Jennifer shrugged. It was as good a name as any for the mysterious objects.

When Cassandra caused the cave in, Jennifer found herself screaming at the monitor in frustration at her daughter’s stupidity. Her yelling was so loud that poor Larry jumped up from his sleep instantly, growling, his head swiveling to look for danger. Startled at the uncharacteristically aggressive sound coming from the old dog, Jennifer immediately made soothing noises, and seeing no immediate danger, he hesitantly wagged his tail and whined. She sat down next to him, petting him, hardly able to watch the events unfolding in the Stream.

When the door to her office burst open, she didn’t look up immediately. She flushed, wondering if she had really screamed that loudly, wondering what she had been yelling. Or if maybe someone had come with news about what was happening in the Stream, something she had missed in those critical moments following the cave in… she felt something in her chest clench in panic for a moment as she wondered if Cassandra had died. “Ma’am?” a voice said hesitantly from the doorway.

She looked up to see Vincent, his eyes wide, his face pale. It did not calm her at all. “What is it?” she asked, her voice deceptively steady.

“There’s a…” Vincent paused. His mouth worked for a moment, as though he were confused about what to say next. Finally, he settled on, “We have a visitor.”

Jennifer frowned. “A visitor?” she asked, confused. “Who is it?”

“It’s best if you come see for yourself.” Jennifer stood and followed Vincent down the hall. They made their way to the entrance of the building. Before she fully stepped out of the hall, she could spot a few members of her team, standing tensely with their guns drawn. She wondered what kind of visitor merited this reaction, and her head swiveled to see what they were staring at and…

She blinked, and took a half step back. Her hand reached absently for a gun she never wore anymore, and she had to stop herself and force her fingers to clench into a fist.

It wasn’t human.

As Jennifer stepped into sight, it seemed to unfold, or perhaps to stand straighter, raising itself to its full height – easily three or four feet taller than the average man. All the guns aimed at it lifted, trained on its head. It lifted four arms into the air, palms out.

Something of the appearance reminded Jennifer of an insect like a praying mantis – it was long and lithe and had too many limbs. The arms it lifted didn’t seem to be much differentiated from the legs it stood on – spindly limbs at the end of which were small, long fingered hands. The skin was brownish, with bright yellowish green spots. It wore clothes, which almost seemed so ludicrous that Jennifer could have laughed. It didn’t have the large grabbing legs of a mantis, but the head had a similar triangular shape and large, glittering black eyes.

Those eyes focused on her as it rose up. “I wish to help,” it said, it’s voice a high pitched trill. It spoke perfect English, with a strange and punctuated accent, but English none the less.

“Help with what?” Jennifer asked, stepping forward and gesturing for her team to lower their weapons.

“Help your captured people. Help your planet,” the creature said.

Jennifer paused. After a hesitant moment, she gestured for the creature to follow. She didn’t want to lead it to her office and give poor Larry a heart attack, so she took the creature to the employee break room that they had set up. The break room was large and spacious and had plenty of chairs and tables, and her team could also join and listen, and keep their weapons ready if needed. As she led the way, she pulled Vincent close and whispered for him to get everyone up and at the office. She gestured for the individuals that had their weapons still at the ready to move into the break room first. Even without direct orders, they took positions at the corners of the room to fully cover every angle.

Jennifer stepped in and sat down at one of the tables close to the center of the room. She gestured for the creature to join her and rested her linked hands on the table in front of her.

The creature stepped in and paused for a moment, staring at the chair that sat across from Jennifer. Obviously feeling that it would not be comfortable sitting in such a thing, it gently pushed the chair out of the way and settled onto its thorax on the floor, lowering itself into a crouch that brought it comfortably to eye level with Jennifer.

“What… who are you?” Jennifer asked at last.

The creature’s head swiveled gently as it took in its situation before focusing its eyes on Jennifer. “I am here to help,” it said again.

“Then explain yourself, and explain quickly.”

“I am from another planet.” Someone muttered “No shit” under their breath, but neither Jennifer nor the alien acknowledged it. “My world was subjected to something very similar as what your world is going through now. What you call the Stream.”

Jennifer frowned, not understanding fully. “What do you mean?”

“It is a long story.” Jennifer could see that more of her team were gathering outside the room – some entered, and some lingered at the door or out in the hall. Those that stayed outside took turns peaking in, wide eyed in shock at their first sight of an alien visitor. She nodded to the creature to begin. “I will start by saying that I did not come here of my own will. The aliens that brought me here are the ones that are responsible for recording your people, and they hold several humans on their craft as we speak. I managed to escape to the surface of your world, in the hopes that I could help you to divert the crisis that fell upon my people.”

“They’re keeping humans?” Jennifer frowned. “The people from Flight 5071. Where are they keeping them?”

The alien gestured toward the ceiling vaguely, and Jennifer understood it to mean very high above.

“But our people have been on the alert for an… extra-terrestrial ship. It was one of the possible theories that many had about the source of the Stream. How has no one spotted this craft?”

“They have advanced technology… and some degree of magical prowess.”

Jennifer started to open her mouth to protest at the term “magic” being thrown in so casually, but paused. Her own daughter was being recorded using magic on a nearly daily basis now. She had been pulled into another world by a means that was certainly magical. If these aliens were here and recording and sending that record to be watched… Was it so strange to think that they could use magic too? It hurt her head to think about it. “Magic,” she said finally, tersely. She thought about the scry balls and their invisibility. Perhaps that was how they kept their ship out of sight, wherever it was. “You said they came to your world too? They aren’t the same as you?”

The alien shook its head. “No.”

“And what crisis did they cause your people, exactly?”

For a moment, the alien’s head tilted down slightly – from the shift of its features, Jennifer felt distinctly that it was frowning. “They destroyed my planet.”

Jennifer grimaced, not liking the answer. “Tell me what happened.”

The closest approximation that Jennifer could make to the alien’s name when it introduced itself was Polypt. Very similar to the Graces, Polypt had been pulled into another realm. However, magic was a known element on Polypt’s planet, and being pulled into this realm wasn’t completely unheard of to them – it was part of an ancient pact made between those worlds, and it was considered a great honor. Those who were Chosen on Polypt’s planet were summoned to perform a great service. In fact, many of Polypt’s people trained their entire lives, hoping to be worthy of being Chosen.

But it was Polypt who was Chosen, somehow. Despite being a normal individual that had never trained for the task, Polypt had found herself in this other realm. It had struck her as initially strange – something had clearly gone wrong with the summoning. But Polypt had made the best of the situation and had decided to devote herself to the duty. Unbeknownst to her, her entire journey was broadcast for her entire planet to see.

As a chosen Priestess, Polypt’s duty was to clear the other world of something she described only as an “encroaching dark.” She made friends that she traveled with, she focused on strengthening her magical abilities, and she helped to fight back the encroaching dark. And just as she had come close to finally saving the world … she was approached by the aliens responsible for the broadcast, responsible for interfering with the summoning and sending her.

They gave her a choice: she could stay and save the world she had settled into, but her home world would be destroyed. Or she could return to save her home – and know that she left the other world to its doom. She had anguished over it, but knew that she couldn’t allow her home to be destroyed, so she had chosen to return. The aliens had the ability to bring her back. She had left that other world that her people had made a pact with so long ago, she had left her friends to fight their own battle, to possibly die.

And despite her choice, the aliens had destroyed her home anyway.

“The magic required to pull an individual spatially from one location to another further location is very powerful. It leaves a distinct signature that they can track, and usually exists in a predictable pattern. From what I have been able to learn, they use that to track down species that have a bountiful enough planet for them to harvest resources from. They interfere with the transference spell, so that they can bring the individual back to the point of origin. They spend the time studying the planet, its resources and technology, in order to ensure a smoother acquisition. I suspect the broadcasts and the world’s reaction to it are also a source of entertainment for them,” Polypt said, her tone turning bitter as she spoke.

Jennifer frowned. “What are they called? Do they have a name for their species.”

Polypt gave a strangely familiar gesture – a shrug. “I never learned. I just called them Bastards.”

“I see.” Jennifer frowned. She glanced around the room, and the faces that surrounded her – some disbelieving, some pale with terror, some determinedly set and angry. “So they watch our people like a television program, and then after presenting the victims with a moral dilemma for their own entertainment, they destroy the world and harvest it for resources. And then they move on to the next place where they can interfere?”

“Yes,” Polypt said simply.

Jennifer leaned back, staring hard at Polypt for a time. “When you escaped to the surface… was it on a ship or a craft that could take you back to theirs?”

“Yes. It was not very big, but I can take perhaps a small handful of individuals with me. If they are not expecting me to return, we might able to infiltrate and destroy their ship.”

“No. We need to infiltrate and save the people of Flight 5071. And then we can destroy the ship.” Polypt looked hesitant at that, but Jennifer placed a hand on the table in front of her. “That is non-negotiable. We’re saving our people first.”

Polypt nodded. “I understand. But I will remind you, that it is our love and devotion to our own that they enjoy using against us most. It was how I destroyed my own world… and perhaps another, that I will never see again.”

Jennifer nodded. She stood, and left Polypt under the guard of several members of her team while gesturing for the others to join her in the meeting room. She knew they were in for a long discussion on what do and who would go, but she also already knew that she was going to go herself. No one was going to talk her out of that.

Dinner With the Family

On By MaryIn Prompts, WritingLeave a comment

The prompt cards for this are “dinner with the family” and “butcher.”

I guess trigger warnings for dead babies and cannibalism if that’s a turn off for you.

If it’s a turn on for you, that’s not really good, but… enjoy?

   “You never sit and have a nice meal with your family anymore,” his wife complained often. It was a busy season for him as a butcher, and he welcomed the work. It was how he helped put that dinner on the table. There were the families that bought cows and hired him to cut and ground the meat so that they could freeze and use it through the year. There were hunters that did the same. On top of the usual labor of running his own small retail business, sometimes he came home late and exhausted. Despite how hard working he was, she always complained.

 It had been that way the night before also. He hadn’t really meant for anything to happen, but he was tired, and hardly responsive to her usual complaints, and she had become physical. She had pushed him, actually pushed him, while screaming in his face, and he had angrily pushed her back in retaliation. The baby had been on her hip through all of it, and she full just right to crush the poor thing – there was a brief terrified cry that cut off to an almost sickening silence.

When they both realized what had happened… it was instant grief, and instant blame. Why had she even tried to start a physical altercation when she was holding their child? Why had he even pushed back? He practically saw red as she screamed and wailed and laid the blame solely at his feet, and before he really understood what he was doing, could really stop what was happening… her face had turned a sickly purple as she gasped and fought for oxygen in his grip.

 For a brief moment, he realized he should stop. If he stopped, she’d be able to breathe again, and it’d all be just fine. But the baby was still dead, and nothing would be okay again. Instead, he tightened his grip, held tight to her neck and throttled until she passed out, and for several long moments after that.

 He sat panting at the exertion and adrenaline, staring at both of the bodies as a blind panic overtook him. What was he going to do? How was he going to get rid of them so no one knew?

It was an entire night of very hard work. Luckily, there was little blood splatter at the house – he tossed some of her belongings and some of the child’s things into a suitcase with her wallet and smashed her phone to bits to put in with it as well. He would dispose of those later, some small indication that maybe she had packed and left him. She’d never had her own vehicle because she didn’t like driving, so he didn’t have the headache of hiding a car that could be traced. When her friends and family came looking, all he’d have to do is morosely tell them that she took the kid and left – he vaguely knew that she complained about him constantly. The only thing that would stand out as strange to them was that she hadn’t gone to them… but certainly he could shrug that off and angrily say that he had no clue where or who she had gone to.

He took the bodies in to his shop, and he did the job he knew to do best. The bones might be problematic – he’d have to store those separately and figure out a way to dispose of them discreetly. But that still left all the properly cut and ground meat.

He sat down to dinner the next night, absently poking at the meatballs he had made for his spaghetti, slathered in a homemade meat based sauce, wondering what it would taste like. His stomach turned at the thought, but at the same time he couldn’t leave the evidence for long. He’d have to work through all of it over the next month. Eventually, someone might want to investigate what he had in his freezers, and there could be nothing left by the time they came searching.

He popped a whole meatball into his mouth and chewed, finding it to be surprisingly delicious. A funny thought popped into his head, and he laughed as he continued to eat. He was finally enjoying a nice dinner with his family.