Dirt

Intriguing story by Sean Patrick Whiteley reblogged from seanpatrickwhiteley.wordpress.com

seanpatrickwhiteley

graveyard-wc1104w

Mrs. Tooms was in her garden, tending to her winter flowers, when inside the house, the phone rang. She creaked and cracked as she stood, her bones older than she remembered. She stumbled into her home, trailing dirt through her kitchen and foyer, and yanked the phone from its cradle.

‘Hello, hello,’ she chirped, breathing heavily from her rushing.

‘Mrs. Tooms?’ asked a raspy monotone.

‘Yes, who’s this?’

‘You may not remember me. It’s been over fifteen years. My name is Benjamin Sidley. I’m head caretaker down at Pine Banks Cemetery.’

‘I don’t,’ answered Mrs. Tooms. ‘Remember you, that is.’

‘Well, that’s of no matter.’

‘Why are you calling?’ Mrs. Tooms was eager to return to her flowers.

‘Unfortunately, my reason for calling is to deliver some bad news.’

Mrs. Tooms waited.

‘It is with a heavy heart that I tell you that your husband’s grave has been desecrated…’

Mrs…

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Yes, Mr Boss

Yes, Mr. Boss

You’re fired! Shouted the man in the suit. His name was Mr Mandoir, and he was the head of the company. He had been for many years. He was stinking rich, but still his life sucked. He liked to take it out on his employees.

Please, Mario pleaded. Please don’t, I really need the job!

Mr Mandoir looked at him for a while. Contemplating his fear. Then he grinned.

Clean my personal toilet and get back to your desk. I’ll let you off the hook this time, but this is your last warning.

Mario hated his boss and his boss hated him. Then again, his boss seemed to hate everyone.

Mario moved papers. The bottom of the office hierarchy, he basically did what everyone told him to. A shitty job but he needed the money. Flat rent and bills was mostly were it went.

Still, there was nothing in his contract about cleaning toilets. He got up from the chair and started walking towards the bathroom.

The only reason I don’t fire you is because of that nice ass of yours! His boss laughed. Mario  wasn’t sure he could take much more of this.

The bathroom was disgusting. He’d heard of this. Mr Mandoir kept his bathroom disgusting for these occasions. Others had been in the same situation before him. He had thought it was a myth, but now he saw it wasn’t. He opened the window, tied his shirt around his mouth and nose and started cleaning.

After a whole lot of horrible work, the bathroom was looking like a normal one. He was about to close the window when he saw a scorpion crawling on the edge. A lethal black scorpion. He almost touched it, just a strike of luck saved him. He looked to the door. His boss was not in. He went out into his office, got a glass jar and a glue tube. He lured the scorpion very carefully into the jar. Spilled a little bit of glue underneath the toilet seat. Then he held the jar to the seat.

His boss came into the office.

Still not finished, you lazy son of a bitch? Get out of there, or I’ll fire you again. I need to take a shit.

He stuck his head into the bathroom. Mario grabbed the cloth and pretended to be cleaning the toilet, hiding the jar as well as he could.

Just finishing off the toilet, sir, he said. Coming right out!

You better.

The boss went back into his office.

The scorpion was stuck. Carefully Mario put the seat down. All you could see was the tip of the tail looking for something to sting.

Mario went out. All ready, boss! I hope you’ll be satisfied!

Get back to your desk and back to work, said Mr Mandoir. This is the last chance you’ll get.

Mario got out of the office as fast as he could and started walking down the hall. A scream was heard.

His boss died from the sting. No one ever found out that the crushed scorpion under the seat was glued there.

The week after they got a new boss. He was an asshole as well.

https://grimscrypt.wordpress.com/2017/03/28/poisoned-by-revenge/

http://www.crazygames.com/game/whack-your-boss

Death to the Metal Monster

 

Abominable Snowman

Abominable Snowman

Something came moving out from behind the rocks. It walked on two legs, like a human, but it was bigger. Hairy.

Look! Said Ernst. What is that?

A Monster! Shoot it!

They were on an expedition sent out by Heinrich Himmler himself. High up in the Himalayas they were looking for signs of early aryan civilization, proof of the superiority of the race. It was summer, but still freezing. Today a cold wind had risen. They were up at almost seven thousand meters. It seemed a bit silly to be looking for the rests of civilization up here, but if it was what Himmler wanted, it was what Himmler wanted. And they better not get back empty handed. He had a disgust for failure.

They were going in between some rocks to find shelter, when they saw the creature.

The wind made it hard to see. It came out from the rocks. Moving strangely. It was no human. A monster. They shot it. The sound of the gun echoed between the walls.

They went slowly closer to have a look. It was lying on the ground. It’s chest was red of blood. It had stopped pumping.

It looks like a bear. Said Ernst. Quite a blond bear, but still. A bear.

Nein. Said Bruno. It’s an abscheuliche Schneemensch. A horrible, dangerous Yeti.

It definitively looks like a bear, said Ernst.

No! An abominable  snowman, that’s what it is. No doubt about it. Der Fuhrer will be very happy.

It’s bear, Bruno. Look at it’s face. It’s a bear’s face.

Bruno stood looking at the bear for a while with his rifle in his hand. He lifted the rifle a bit. It went off in the animal’s face. The face splintered, blood, flesh and bone flew. The face was now a big hole.

The two men were quiet for a while, looking at the bear. Bruno looked at Ernst. Then back at the bear.

Definitively an abominable snowman, he said. Let’s bring it home.

Ernst said nothing. Anything would be better than coming home empty handed.

https://umsu.unimelb.edu.au/what-really-happened-nazi-yeti-hunters/

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/10384000/Yeti-lives-Abominable-Snowman-is-part-polar-bear-and-still-roams-the-Himalayas.html

Deep Sea Adventurers

Saber Tooth Beasts

Saber Tooth Beasts

(This is a sequel of my previous story Saber Tooth Beast. They can both be read as individual stories, but I recommend reading the other first.)

The five hunters were lying on a hill, but today they were not hunting. The wind was blowing in their direction so the wolves, always close to the Silmar tribe would not scent them. Four huge beasts were lying by their side.

A year had gone by since they killed the saber cat. The cubs were big now, the four that were still alive. They had names. Fang was the biggest one, a male. The other three were females, Claw, Snow and Bite. They had kept them in the village, but as they grew, they were getting more and more dangerous.

Ragnoor himself had experienced their wrath. The wound had healed more or less, but he would forever have a big scar on his shoulder. Good thing it happened in winter time, in the summer infections would have killed him. After that the animals were kept in a cave with wooden bars. The cave was too small for two males, Fang killed his brother Force in a brutal fight less than a moon ago.

But they where more or less tamed. Right now they were a bit unstill. They hadn’t eaten all day. The three hunters knew they could easily be seen as prey when the hunger got strong enough, but they had to take that chance. There were other prey close, and the beasts seemed to know.

They waited for a signal. A tree on the other side of the Silmar village would shake. Then the other warriors would be in place. Warriors. More like women and children, but they were all armed, and trained to fight. Hidden in the bushes.

The hunters were now five. Rimber was already becoming a man, and his younger brother Moorkin was with them as well. Ninkra was the first hunter woman of the tribe ever, and had turned out to be of the best. Times were changing. Ragnoor was in charge of the people, and Melmor of the beasts. They had spears and knives, all made of wood and flint.

Marang and his wife Wildang was watching their little son playing with his friends. He was growing fast, and was of the strongest of his age. He was going to be an important person in the tribe, they were sure of it. They were holding hands, they were still in love after several years of marriage.

The signal. Now! Ragnoor rose up, lifted his spear. Melmor and Rimber let the beasts loose. They ran down the side of the hill. They were hungry. Fierce. Bestial. The hunters ran behind them, but they had hardly started running when they heard the screams. The beasts were already in the camp.

A beast came out of the forest. Caught their son, threw him several meters. One of it’s saber fangs had penetrated the child’s chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Marang caught a pointed stick, one they used to dig holes in the ground, and ran towards the animal. There were more children. His wife was screaming in panic. Another saber tooth cat came out from the forest and charged at him. He speared the stick into it’s chest, but it was not made for fighting. The tiger killed him in one bite.

Rangoor and his hunters came running out with their spears high. The warriors were attacking the beasts, but the fear made them weak. Some wolves were lying on the ground, dead or suffering great wounds. The rest had already ran off into the forest. The warriors were falling as well.

They were used to fight humans, not saber tooth cats, and never unprepared. They managed to kill one, but the other three was slaying them down.

Ragnor stabbed one after another, they hardly saw him before he attacked. They were way too occupied with monstrous beasts. Fear kept them weak. Soon the fight was over.

Snow attacked Ragnoor. Melmor threw his sword at the female beast. She looked confused. Crouched for a moment, and ran off into the forest. Ragnoor was lying dead on the ground. Snow was never seen again.

The Silmar warriors were all dead all seriously injured. They could not risk to let the rest live and some day seek revenge. They murdered everyone. Some had tried to run into the forest on the other side. They were met by spears an rocks in the forest. A very few had gotten away, but they were not enough to be called a tribe.

The Silmar tribe was gone forever.

http://www.carlbystrom.com/2017/03/18/gravity-well-writephoto/

https://poweredbyrobots.com/2017/03/23/i-want-to-kill-you/

Saber Tooth Beast

Beast

It’s there, said Somtar, pointing at a cave. That’s where it is.

Stay low, said Raanor. Somtar looked at him, but did what he said.

The others were lying down behind them. There it was. The lair of the killer.

One of the hunters of the tribe had disappeared. Now they were only five, and even when they were six it had been hard to hunt the bigger animals. First they thought it was the Silmar tribe, but they had found animal blood on the site. Kimlir had managed to hurt it, but just enough to give them a hidden trail of blood drops to follow. They looked on the ground, on the plants. Slowly they advanced into the forest.

Now they stood in front of the cave where the killer was hiding. They did not know what kind of creature it was, but they were hoping it was of this world. Their myths and legends told of creatures they could never conquer.

They moved into position. The hunters knew their roles, only Rimber had to be lead. He was the youngest, too young to be a hunter, but after the day of the massacre they were too few. Now they were even fewer.

A huge creature came out. A Saber Tooth Cat. Roaring. Screaming. The biggest predator they’d ever seen. Rimber fell. The cat jumped at him. Somtar threw himself between them, stuck his flint knife into the side of the beast. Razor sharp claws cut his chest. He fell back, blood pumping. Parghar threw his spear. It stuck to the side of the beast’s flank. It turned, attacked. Sunk it’s teeth into his neck. Rangoor and Melmor was over it, hanging on to their spears sinking into it’s flesh. The creature died.

He saved my life, said young Rimber. He wasn’t crying, but his eyes was red, his mouth small and shaking. Somtar had been like a father to him.

We are only three hunters now. Life will be hard. Melmor was sitting on one knee, beside his friend and mentor Parghar’s dead body.

Some of the children will soon be old enough to hunt, We’ll manage. Rangoor looked to the hills of the falling sun. If only we could live in our old land…

The other two were silent. The memories of the day the Silmar tribe came and took their land was still strong in memory.

Listen! Said Rimber. The other two looked at him, asking.

It comes from the cave!

The child jumped closer to the cave.

Rimber, no! Said Rangoor, taking a step towards him.

Look! It’s a cub! Rimber picked up the fluffy little animal. You could see the fangs already sticking out of it’s mouth. He’s beautiful!

Inside the cave there were four more.

Next summer these will be as fierce as their mother, said Melmor, pulling his knife out of his belt. We need to kill them now.

No! Said Rimber, holding on to the cub in his arms. Let me keep at least one... Now tears were running down his cheeks.

Rimber, there’s no…

Rangoor put a hand on Melmor’s shoulder.

We bring them all with us. His eyes were glowing of hope and revenge. Next summer we’ll get our land back.

https://aetherealengines.com/2017/03/04/ounta/

http://library.sandiegozoo.org/factsheets/_extinct/smilodon/smilodon.htm#distribution

The Evil

The invisible man

Featured Image -- 2672

Digging deep into the archives of Jac Forsyth’s blog The Perilous Reading Society I found this beautiful little story.

The Perilous Reading Society

Some of them had fallen into the radioactive vats, some had been pushed and some, like Finn, had been born into them.

No one had ever really counted how many there were.  By their nature it was hard to tell them apart, and one became another all too easily.  But everyone knew that they were there, and everyone knew what they were.

And it wasn’t like they could turn transparent or anything.  They just had this knack of becoming part of the backdrop.  Finn once said it was more like natural camouflage than anything else.  Sure, they bore the toxic aftermath on their flesh, but it was in the minds of the Noticeable People that the real magic happened.  A dark enchantment seemed to possess them, and it erased the Invisible from the picture book of their thoughts quicker than changing channels on a TV.

His hair was dark, like…

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Prophetic Poetry

The little girl was standing in front of him. He couldn’t see her eyes. Her dark hair was hanging down in front of her pale face. She held a doll in her right hand. The doll’s eyes were torn out. It was hanging like a dead person. The girl made a sudden move with her head, threw her hair back. Fast. Her face. Twisted, strange, as if someone had hurt her, cut her. Destroyed her. She screamed.

They had found the house in the wilderness. Abounded and beautiful. With a bit of work they had cleaned it up well enough to stay there for some days. A rest until they would continue their journey.

In the basement they found a book. A small writing book, a note pad. Only one of the pages had text on it. The letters were chaotic, as written by a child.

Lonely nights and silence

Will they ever return?

Trapped and terrified

When time comes they will burn

Blood will run on wooden floors

Innocent lives… delight

The two who comes in through that door

this will be their night.

They joked about how it would be them, that there was a ghost or something. They did not know the horrible event that had happened in this place.

A little girl had been murdered by her parents. Fear had been the reason. Fear of a prophecy that never came true.

This night Janet and Morty had been lying in front of the fireplace. Janet fell asleep, and Morty went out to take a piss. Coming back in he saw the little girl. She was standing in the hallway.

Her face had a horrendous look in it’s red, beady eyes. Her scream was long, evil and in pain. She jumped at him faster than a beast. Bit his throat, pulling it out. Morty fell to the ground. Blood poured out of the wound and his mouth.

The scream woke Janet up. She ran out in the hallway, saw her boyfriend vomiting blood on the floor. A little girl sitting on top of him. The girl turned her head. An unnaturally fast movement. Her head was turned backwards. Blood were running down her cheeks. She jumped, or flew towards Janet. Janet fell backwards. She managed to throw the little girl into the fireplace. She screamed horrible screams as the flames devoured her. Screams of a little girl in pain and terror. Then she disappeared.

Janet ran over to her beloved boyfriend lying on the floor. He was dead. There was nothing she could do for him. She ran out the door as fast as she could and into the night. She stopped.

The little girl was standing in the yard. In front of her. In the tall grass. She stopped. Petrified. The little girl attacked. The sleeping birds awoke and flew from their trees far, far away.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_Poetry_Day

https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/267155-wasting-copper/

Tears of Blood

 

Shattered

Shattered

Darkness in my soul. A wound. A memory.

Pain inflicted. Sadness. Loss. Nothing could ever

mend what happened. No one could ever repay the debt.

Revenge. Horror. Madness and sorrow. A future so bright

shattered to pieces. An illusion. A source of confusion.

Hate. The road to destruction. A morbid seduction.

It’s time to die.

In memory of my beloved dog Fenris and the horrible act of injustice he was victim of.

A Destructive Solution

A Destructive Solution

The world lived in peace now. Freedom was the new way. Freedom and equality. Finally.

Jerome was happy. He lived with his friends and family in an old castle. There were other families too. Other groups in other parts. Once the castle belonged to a duke. The awakening had changed the world. When the world had been at the border of total destruction from war and ecological collapse mankind had understood how to live together. How to share the world.

But far away a threat had awoken. A threat to the new way, a dark force were claiming the right to suppress others, to deprive others their land and their resources. A movement from the old days. Once it had been called fascism.

Carl was his name. He was from the north. He had revoked the old ways of egoism. And now he was on his way to the castle Jerome called his home.

The castle was next on the list. It seemed to be important to Carl, his family used to own it, they used to own all the land. They used to be rich, while the people living on this land were starving. Now he wanted it back.

What do we do? Rebecca said. They have an army!
Jerome did not know what to answer. He went down to the library in the basement.

He looked in old books. He looked in old files in the computer systems, computers older than his grandfather. Files downloaded from the long gone internet. He found it. A solution.

He knew where the army was coming from. They slaughtered anyone who opposed to their laws, to their system. He went in his old vehicle. After a while he saw the smoke from the fires. He knew there was death. Violence. For the first time in this century. They still had not arrived at his destination. There was still time.

He got there before them. The old military installation. He went in. Once the most protected place in the land. Now the land was no longer suppressed. No one was in charge. He went into the hanger. He had the old map drawn down from the screen. He found it. The old symbol he had found. The symbol of destruction. A circle with three triangles inside. Red on yellow. Once this was the most feared symbol on earth.

He waited. He waited for days, until he heard them come. They where straight above him. The time had come.

Up on the ground the horde of fascists gathered. They had plundered and raped for miles and miles, and now the time had come to take the castle of Carl’s great grandfather.

Jerome opened the security cover. He swallowed. He knew his life would be over when he got the chain reaction started. But there where things in the world more important than him. The world would once again be free. The threat of the egoists would be over. Altruism would once again rule. He swallowed again. He pressed the button.

Rebecca was standing in the highest tower watching the bright light in the horizon. Then the smoke mushroom. Tears where running down her cheeks. She knew she would never see her beloved Jerome again. She knew she could not even go close to the place he died. And she knew the terror where once again in the past. Freedom was once again secured.

https://peaceandhealthblog.com/2017/01/24/china-call-to-ban/

https://garden2day.wordpress.com/2016/12/23/nuclear-disarmament/

Temple of Death

Violation

I can proudly pronounce that my blog has been of important inspiration to this amazingly morbid piece of art.

Powered by Robots

wolf mate Photo: Diane Picard/Shutterstock – found at Mother Nature Network (MNN)

Yesterday, I wrote a short story called The Wolf’s Mate, a werewolf tale that’s actually a romance. Gwen is married to Larry and is pregnant. Larry is also a werewolf who even recognizes his “mate’s” scent while he is the wolf.

I started thinking of different ways to spin the story, and the night Gwen Talbot becomes pregnant sprang to life. I want to warn you right now this story contains some significantly “adult” content, so if you aren’t okay with that, stop reading now.

I’m also considering writing a story about their romance, how they met, fell in love, his proposal of marriage, and upon Gwen’s acceptance, Larry’s revealing his secret to her and how, amazingly, that resulted in them getting married, even in the face of the curse of the wolf.

I just wanted to let you…

View original post 878 more words

Entity

Refreshingly dark piece written by and reblogged from Grim’s Crypt.

Grim's Crypt

It started happening the beginning of one week during the middle of the night when you’d find me typing away on my laptop. The knocking noises weren’t loud, but in the middle of the night there was dead silence so the noise appeared louder than what they really were. For a while, I would chalk it up to my neighbors’ headboard banging against the wall while having sex or the pipes in this old apartment building talking. I’d just ignore it and finish writing whatever story I was working on at the time.

One night that week, I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Not only were there the knocking sounds, but scratching noises had accompanied it as well. I remember looking behind me and seeing nothing but the white plastered walls that surrounded me. What was weird was the noises had stopped as soon as I looked, but resumed once…

View original post 609 more words

Full Moon

She was sitting on a bench in the park, looking up at the clear sky. The sun had just gone down, and in the opposite horizon a beautiful, big and full moon was rising. She felt relaxed and safe.

A howl was heard in a distance up in the forest. A dog? It didn’t really sound like a dog. It was more like some kind of wolf, but there was no wolves in this area. There was something strange about it, something dark. She shivered, got her purse and started to walk home.

The shadows flew by as he ran down the hill. The darkness felt good, the air in the hair on his cheeks, his shoulders. The moonlight through the trees. The smells. So many, so strong. He felt alive as never before. The moment. Everything was this moment.

She walked down the road, into the shortcut towards their house, a path through the forest. The moonlight filters through the higher parts of the trees, giving her a little bit of eyesight.

She hears the howl again.

A new smell is mixed with the smells of the forest. Rich. Intriguing. Beautiful. He licks his lips. He’s never smelled a smell like that. He stops for a moment. Sucking in pleasure through his nose. He howls again. A long howl of longing, of desire. Then he keeps running.

It was closer this time. Too close. What was it? It sounded almost human, like someone gone crazy, but it was too grave, too… wild. She started walking faster.

She could see the end of the path now, where she would be out in the street between the houses again. A shadow moved in the darkness between the trees. Fast. Too fast to be human. Something crossed the path behind her. She turned around. Nothing. She started running.

He sees her now. His prey. She’s running. A desire to hunt, to play. The smell is strong. The smell of fear. He wants her.

She reached the edge of the forest, ran out in the street. Kept running. There were some people a bit ahead. She was safe. She stops for a moment to catch her breath. Turns around. A beast comes out of the forest. Running half on two feet, halfly on all four. A wolf. A man. A monster.

She screams as he leaps towards her.

He sees the fear in her eyes. He lands over her, she falls to the ground. Helpless. Beautiful. He sinks his teeth into he neck. Her flesh. The iron taste as the blood goes down his throat. He howls to the moon. Four people are watching a block away. Shocked. Terrified.

Just the way he likes them.

http://www.gods-and-monsters.com/history-of-the-werewolf.html
http://www.thescarystory.com/onlineshorthorrorstories/
Beauty and the Beast

Debt

Debt

He hadn’t slept much the last days. Drugs, sex, violence… You name it. The last days had been crazy.

He came out of the old abounded storage house. He’d gotten some speed for the money he robbed down at the licker store, enough to sell a bit, and maybe if he was to keep things tight, buy a new party when it ran out.

He went down to Dylan’s flat. Mike was there as well. They were all out of drugs. He was a welcome sight.

They sat down, laid out some lines on the table. Big ones. They’d just snorted them in when there was a knock on the door. Three guys was standing outside. Fuck, it’s Marco! Get out of here! But it was too late. The door was kicked in. Bats. Knives. Guns.

The three friends were lying on the floor. They were to high to really understand what was going on, but it sucked. Marco wanted his money. He took the speed on the table and the play station. They had a couple of days to get the rest of the money.

They took my play station… said Dylan.

They took the drugs… said Mike.

What the fuck do we do now? Said Johnny. That stash was my way out of this mess.

I told you we shouldn’t do business with these kind of people, said Mike. We’re not the same league.

The two others were silent. They knew he was right, even though it had sounded like chicken shit the other day. They’ve heard things about Marco. They said he’d killed people. Apart from the torture he’d inflicted on others in their situation.

Fuck, man, said Johnny. We’re in it now.

We should fucking kill him, said Mike. Coming in here, stealing my stuff, threatening us. We should fucking…

Kill him. Said Johnny. Silence. Mike, you’re a genius.

Mike looked at him. He hadn’t really meant it, but then again… It would be in self defence. Kind of.

The day after Johnny is waiting Marco in an alley. He shows up with the same two guys he brought at Mike’s house. So you’ve finally paying your debts, eh? ‘Bout time, asshole. Where’s your pathetic friends?

Someplace, says Johnny, trying to hide his nerves. I dunno.

So, give me the money so we can get out of here.

Johnny stands there. Where’s Mike? He should be acting by now?

Er… he says.
What’s wrong with you, man? Give me the fucking money!

The thing is… I don’t have’em.

You don’t have them? Marco got angry. Shouted a lot of stuff about loosing his time, not respecting, and a lot of other stuff too.

Kick his ass, he said to his mates. A gunshot was heard. One of Marco’s guys fell to the ground. Blood was puring from his head.

What the f…

Another gunshot. Nothing happened, it missed. Marco ran behind a car. The third shot killed the other asshole. Marco started shooting towards were the gunshots came from. Johnny crawled behind a trash container. Then Marco ran off.

The other two came out of their hiding place behind the barracks.

Now what the fuck do we do? Said Johnny.

The two others stood in silence for a moment before Mike said:

We run.

https://edatm.com/2017/02/24/bayou/

https://fictionalex.wordpress.com/2017/02/28/first-kill/

Out of Gas

Stranded

Rest in Time and Space

John Argoyle stood paralysed. He was watching the grave on front of him. A tombstone. It had a name on it. His name. He and his group of space travellers were the first humans to set foot on this planet, just five minutes ago. They were the first humans to ever arrive at this solar system.

He went back to the others.

So, did you find anything? Said his commander.

He didn’t answer.

Are you OK? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

John looked at his commander. I’m OK. No, nothing special, he lied. He was confused. Astonished. The date of his death had been four years before his birth. He wanted to tell the rest of them, but he was afraid they would laugh. He wasn’t even sure if he believed what he’d seen, and the commander always made fun of him.

Well, we have the samples we need, said the commander. Let’s get back. The rest of the crew of four, Miarim and Geroge got the equipment into the vessel. John didn’t do anything. He just stood there, looking at the horizon.

The vessel started going up towards the mother ship. Going out of the atmosphere a creature appeared. In a flash it stood in front of them, a monster of cosmic dimensions. It’s eyes lit of an intelligent glow, looking at them, examining them. They could see stars inside it’s open mouth. It swallowed the ship whole.

A moment of darkness. Then light. Then neither, or both, it was hard to tell. Time went by. A moment. An eternity.

They were moving up from the planet again. The creature was no longer there. Neither was the mother ship.

Get back down! Said the commander. Soon they were back on the ground. They turned the ship, started descending towards the ground. They went down too fast. The ship crashed.

Fuck! Are everybody OK? Said the commander.

I am, said Geroge.

Me too, said Miarim. John? John?

John was dead. A metal plate had fallen from the roof, crushed his head.

No… John. No… Miarim was crying. She loved John of all her heart. Geroge was comforting her.

We have no time for this! Said the commander. We need to find out what’s happened. Where’s that god damned mother ship?

There was no answer on the radio. No contact what so ever.

The sun was up. Time had past, but how much? They made measurements of the moons, the stars and the sun. It wasn’t the time that had past. It was them. Thirty years back.

They were stranded in the past on an uninhabitable planet. They were all going to die.

These stories inspired this one.

https://poweredbyrobots.com/2017/03/07/unraveling/

https://jacforsyth.wordpress.com/2017/03/05/the-knaves-tale/

https://theurbanspaceman.net/2017/03/07/avalon-flash-fiction/#more-3406/

Wheel of Time