The serenity of graveyards

Our date wasn't what she expected. In a moment of passion, I lost control of my meta disguise, and she saw me for the first time. I saw the horror in her multiphased eyes reflecting the monster I am; her antennae were vibrating in panic, and yet, she did not run.

Recursive thoughts overwhelmed my mind. The drug's effect was brutal, beautiful. I feared it; I longed it. I could see the universe for what it was, or I thought I did.

Three days later, they found my body on the beach. I left my carcass behind. Now I'm free.

There he is, roaming the school patio from girl to girl like a bee collecting pollen from one flower to the next. I was another blossoming flower for him, nothing more. Somebody has to draw a line, put an end to this narcissist bastard.

Strained on a planet alone after all my crewmates died in the crash landing is a slough. This fresh, downy air makes me feel that ancient joy of continuing breathing, knowing that others have ceased to do it. Am I a bad person? Maybe I am.

“Where is the drey of your friend?”

“I'm not your informer, and I won't disclose the whereabouts of my crewmates.”

“Lizards and squirrels don't work together.”

“Ha, your gun has no energy rounds left.”

“Oh yeah! Why are your four paws up, then?”

“Just in case.”

“Come, my love. I'll cram the void that opens between your perplexity and my perfect simplicity with cryptic riddles that you'll learn to solve in time, for, once you uploaded your mind to the hive, your true self will live forever in us.”

The orb helps me to regenerate my body, stopping the entropic degradation of senility. Although me aging has stopped, bittersweet memories of lost lovers plague my time in the regeneration baths. I may live forever, but the price is utter loneliness.

Poisson ashes fell from the sky that night; we couldn't breathe, but we prevailed. The invisible aliens murdered most of us on the first strike. Eventually, we fought back, only to enable the northern's powers to nuke us to get rid of them. We became collateral damage.

They spoke to agent Margaret using a subtle telepathic whisper. “Neutralize inefficiencies, seize the moment, obliterate your enemies, and prepare the path for our arrival.” She embraced her mission and felt compelled to act with an iron fist.

Very early in life, Paul liked to pick a quarrel with any small opponent, especially the most vulnerable, no matter the consequences. That habit somehow shaped his life. 

Nowadays, he runs a hedge fund. They call him the rabid vulture of Wall Street. 

“The new armada cannot stop the invasion: they are just human,” I said while watching the parade. “The Zargons are artificial lifeforms. They would murder any lifeforms on Earth just to disinfect the planet for their next outpost.”

Her body, torpid from a prolonged slumber, didn't react to my call. The sensorama device was projecting holographic creatures; her mind was creating a parade of monsters I couldn't dare to see. If she doesn't wake up by herself, she would enter a coma, a no exit alley.

At the brim of darkness, a presence is staring at us. Its nature is grim, for it feeds from our cruelty. It is an inhabitant of liminal spaces, forgotten rooms, for hell is the absence of god. 

Last night, I decided to allow the AI to write the script of my next dream based on what it has learned from my writings. I regret such a decision. 

It made me be an amphibious creature lurking in a moody river. Dreams are supposed to be like that, aren't they?

“We spend too much time together. You shall spend more time with your girlfriend.”

“She is fine without me. Say, you should hang out with your boyfriend more often.”

“Nah. I have more things in common with you.”

“Perhaps we're undercover lovers.”

“Yes, perhaps we're.”

Navigating gelid waters during an autumnal night, she saw a blinding light risen above the fearful ocean to show her the path to more calm shores. But, who or what would care to help a castaway in the darkest night of her soul?

At dusk, we walked five sheep outside the fence close to the forest edge; they would be the bait. The wind brought the scent of the beast in our direction; my dog smelled it first. We thought we were ready, but we were not.

The envoy didn't conceal it mechanical nature, nor mocked its guests by wearing a humanoid body; that would have incited the organics to bait the newborn race of sentient machines with vulgar insults. “Greetings,” their ambassador said, “We want to coexist in peace.”

“There is nothing novel in your research,” they said to me. I would say that, making first contact with a parallel Earth where ants are more advanced than us, is a novel idea. The problem is that now the ants know about this Earth.

Inside her precarious shelter, she could listen the ominous sound of the wuthering wind. Flashes of light throbbed with muted fear. The shockwave would flatten everything before fire could purify it. We deserved it. She'd feared the end, but now she longed it.

The evacuation of Earth was a shameful memory to be erased from future history logs. The rich and powerful had already gone when they started to move people as if they were cattle. My father got lucky, but his first wife, an artist, didn’t make it.

“Captain Alisa Selezneva asking permission to lift off in the first manned mission to Mars.”

 “Permission granted, and godspeed, Capt. The restored Soviet Federation is proud of you.” 

“Natasha,” said her mother. “Keep the story short; supper is ready.”

“Wait, don't shoot me!” 

“I don't serve augmented animals in my bar.” 

“But I have money, and, in theory, I'm more intelligent than many of your clients.” 

“In practice, I own the bar, so I set the rules. Besides, you ate all the peanuts.” 

“Sure, I'm a rat.” 

“Exactly.”

“People are losing trust in politicians after all the scandals that made the news,” the campaign's PR was cooking an idea, “I think people need someone new to lead, someone without too much baggage to carry…” 

“But who? Everybody has a past.” 

“I have someone in mind.”

We sat to rest in front of the last human city before walking its lateral avenues. From the rooftop of a rusty vehicle we admired in awe the towers born from the arena of the desert. Suddenly, I was possessed by a vexed thought: “We are not going to be welcome here.”

The Peruvian’s missile struck the craft before it could take off. Hazy smoke and noise were both evidences of a catastrophic malfunction. 

The hoary mechanism, dormant for ages, was called the 'chariot of the gods' by their ancestors.

“Most species have an irrational fear of infinity, and humans are not an exception, my young apprentice,” the voice spoke to my mind, testing my reactions. “However, while monitoring your dreams we were delighted to see how you embrace infinity in practice. You're gifted!”

Their journey among the stars took them to their final destination, a planet with an oversized moon, and no hostile life forms apart from large reptiles, as the prophecy stated. 

“We'll sanctify this planet as our new home,” said their leader, “We’ll name it: Atlantis.”

After the war, he settled in a remote corner of Patagonia, transformed his mecha into a workshop, and built a small cabin. Getting some food daily has been his only concern for years until that day when the radio crackled loudly, the devil had found him again.