thought @ short story

The sound of mud sucking at the air and the putrid smell of the swamp bog rushed my senses. Pulling at my attentions firmly, as i awoke from yet another lucid day dream. My head blurred and i struggled to regain focus fending off fatigue again. Loosing my balance, I threw a clumsy automated step forward into the sludge, swallowed whole by the infernal muck that surrounded our unit for miles. Days had passed, since the last skirmish with local inhabitants leaving us at a feeble ten of fifty.

Living shadows of some sorts with bodiless eyes of a brooding crimson and multi appendage forms. Able towield the very moonlight that ominously illuminates everything around us, as weapon and shield.Blinding greenish flashes that seem to rip apart the fabric of night, streaking down in sudden death,followed by surprised screams of anguish through our comms.. Then seamlessly vanishing back into the gloom about us. We've battled them off several times before. Each time loosing a portion of the squad. Suffering costly trial and error as we found our plasma bayonets and flash bombs were the only success thwarting the assailants. Tirelessly we marched on.

We received weak intelligence at best. Just a short week before in Cryo-sleep as we landed on the dark side of Targus. The second moon of Remos, the fourth largest planet of one of the main systems in the Gem-Eye Quadrant. Infamously known part of space for having endless caches of raw untouched mines of vast untold riches. Diamonds, ore, gold, utonium, you name it, it was there. We were a black raidercompany, commissioned for a simple search and recover gig. Drop and pop over to some lost probe beacon,and *caaaacching!* A years pay for a third of the time, heavier pockets are always a bonus! I figured it was about the "Spaced traversed" hence, why we were charging so much.

Previous expeditions were only sanctioned to go into the first twenty percent of G.Q.. Where it was explored and deemed void of all hostile life by the Marshalls' of Eminent. A bad-ass squad of royally appointed Terminators.And the next best thing was us, a group of mercenaries seeking profitable endeavors. without any legal bindings We were hired to travel about a fort-night deeper into the G.Q. unknown. With only the slightest probability of conflict. Previous scouting indicated a very small threat if any. Possible claim jumpers, rogue militants and/or some pirates. I prefer all three, it makes it all the merrier when they turn on each other in panic.

Hysteria would've been easier. Our predicament had me blinded with rage making me relish the moments where my subconscious replayed over the future dealings of my sweet revenge! Inflicting onto the fool who signed and approved the contracton this one. I should of known better when my instincts went ape-shit, on vague rumors of the night coming alive and the moonlight burning skin. Elaborate ghost stories meaning to dissuade any space travellers looking to score big on some undocumented dig site. What any of us wouldn't of paid out at that time for a little fore-sight into this hair-brained operation. Where we stood only a couple miles from the felled beacon. With rationed supplies and a low oxygen reserve.

Preparing for an inevitable clash from our vicious hosts. Highly aggressive up until then with guerrilla strikes and ambush tactics. We assumed the next one to be something a little of the same. But My instincts were starting to fire off on all sides and consider me a quick learner. The lunar night grew increasingly quiet, eerily still. The hair on my arms pricked out and wormed about my skin in the little faux gravity my suit created. The circle formed up in seasoned rhythm, shrinking in radius. As the chill of battle rippled through the remaining squad. The air tingled with anticipation and we slowed to an ankle deep relief in the trek. A long minute followed, slugging by as we steadied our breaths.

At first, I figured my heart that was racing to be the source, a low vibration from my feet, to a wobbling in the knees. Perhaps adrenaline to be the cause, of my stomach absently clenching and my back building with energy. I assumed the best until, my mecha-suit sensors registered the worst. A booming thunder rolled over us like a powerball stadium cheering with the force of thirty-thousand fanatics. centered just about a half a kilometer in the direction of, of course, our destination. My visor rattled under the sonar onslaught from some really freakishly huge, unknown. I almost lost my footing again, but oddly the mud held me up this time. I motioned a hand signaled to the front four, two on either side of me rushed into action, with a quick burst they took flight, followed by fire in rapid succession launching the flash bombs flying toward the faceless doom.

One popped a few hundred meters early, above a small copse of gnarled swamp trees. Melting away a part of the depth less night. A silent jab into the face of the heavyweight to come. After that, two popped within a couple seconds in between. One reaching a little farther than the first and then the third being closer to the distance my suit registered. Leaving the detonating area a tad lighter shade of greenish grey with another scattering of the moon night creatures. The final one, taking a graceful space roll-bounce about a hundred meters after, almost directly at the epicenter. Coming to rest into a small dip in the landscape.

An hour-like moment passed before the flash bomb blazed into glory. Revealing a ribcage-like form of what seemed to be a living mountain of swamp bog, murk and trees. A substantial mass of pure blackness pressing back at the flash bomb with noticable effort. Finally crashing down with an earth shattering force swallowing the light source whole. Making the rest of us instinctively take flight. Blood pounded in my head and my heart beat even faster in my chest. I scanned the horizon and notice it starting to flicker with crimson speckles of light. Hundreds of sinister eyes glared back in unison, silently conveying our deaths. Instantly wishing for a different turn of events.

We floated there anxiously; exhausted, stranded, outnumbered and blocked from our escape, i figured it couldnt get any worse? Right?. Maybe if I were a lucky man, but as usual the karmic forces of the universe work against me. When ever it can, and will, and always more than what degree of worse i think of. Just as i figured we could probably make one last stand, a hundred to one , managable odds. The ground beneath us violently split open and several mud geyser exploded into life! Spraying the muck and bog in every direction imaginable. Noxious gas clouded the air, making our mecha-suits toxicity sensors overload. The murky ground cover started to flow in small streams. Toward the speckled sea of crimson and the growing living mountain of darkness. All around us theswampy landscape groaned and shrieked in protest, as if the very life was being sucked out of it.

The soldiers were getting restless, and one by one, set their plasma bayonets a flame! Casting a fierce glow upon thecoming swarm of living night. As if in response to our battle cry, everything seem to stop. Like an eye of a storm, an unfamiliar calm settled over the coming battlefield, within a span of a few seconds all the speckles of eye light twinkled out and blackest curtain of night decended upon us. I breathed a few calming words on the comm, and held our position. The very next moment another blood curdling roar, echoed its presence, and three enormous eyes of crimson blazed into all its alien magnificence! The radiating heat alone had us rocking back, stealing our breaths! No less that five-hundred meters away, three demonic looking pupils focus their attention, and glowered in fury upon us. At that very moment, i did what any ones instincts would tell them to do... I ran!

thought < a story shared

i mesh well with an eclectic bunch of folks,ive known people from all different walking styles of life. and i also claim myself to be a good listener, and at times i must admit, im terrible at it.... but sometimes compelled by my all ears approach, there are a few who feel free enough to open up to me privately and share an interesting story or anecdote.

just like in the car ride home tonight. an old buddy, ive known for years. a tad more than a third of my life and incomparable gentlemen of sorts, well versed in the ways of football, an endearing soul who you cant help but root for. but then at the very next moment, you find yourself slapping your forehead with disbelief, because of something unique to his nature, an action or reaction to a situation happens. the proverbial wtf!! so you could imagine the story he shared with me when he received his first d.u.i.!!! ha..

it was a sunday, his football obsession at its peak, the roar of his friends in his ear, the pressure of his peers on his back, and the bartender that knew him as family pouring his drinks. combining with an unexpected change of location and a continuance of celebrations is a recipe for an adventure. at this point hes explains that the people around him are falling off stools, frank the tank shouts fill the room, and hes festive and toasty, by the "good stuff", aka patron silver. its smooth like ice and if not careful, you'll find yourself just as where our friend steve did.

A call from another frequent delinquent, directed them over to sonoma kitchen coup. a good drive away, but nothing he couldnt handle. except, for a bit of paranoia and anxiety that set in. by this time i assume the drinks caught up to his system. He spoke briefly about how parking was scarce in downtown campbell, but where he lost both of us, was while he was looking for parking, he explained that he somehow managed to get on the freeway drive for 10 minutes and exit just a little down the road. which happen to be near small pocket ghetto of campbell. If the 1 foot by 2 foot, raider sticker in his back window didnt draw proper attention to him, then maybe it was his location? or perhaps it was the reckless driving excuse the police tagged him with when he was pulled over? he said within seconds of pulling off the freeway he was spotlighted, and ushered to the side of the road. it was a short cop and a female cop. the guy is honest to a fault, and has cops as personal friends. so naturally he was cooperative. but in hindsight, dare i say too much so? a brief exchange of protocol ensued and he handed over the insurance and drivers license.

the female cop asked the questions and the stubby cop simply stood back and watched. she asked him if he knew why they pulled him over. he said, No officer i actually do not. they responded with the reckless driving accusation, but it seems a little fishy, since he just got off the freeway. so ill blame the sticker in hindsight as well. she then asked if he had any drinks, he replied a quick yes, a couple a few hours ago. vague not bad. she responded in time and followed up with where did you come from. he paused and replied, my friends bar.. ack?!! terrible! ("friends" "bar"?? that would imply you had heavy drinks. and a lot of them. the proverbial wtf?) they had him at this point so i figured they decided to play with him by his take of the story.

she asked him to get out of the car, he exited, and she asked him to recite the alphabet. he obliged and gave it a shot. a.b.c.d.e.f.g.h.i.j.k.....j...k......j...k.. he looked at me with the same expression and eyes reliving the horror of basically forgetting a child's task. he said he simply blanked. that he just couldn't remember what came after k, he asked if he could try again the cops smiled and said sure. the second try, and a.b.c.d.e.f.g.h.i.j.k.... j....k.... haha strike two! and in a panic he blurted out if he could write them down,(wtf!) he laughed it off to me, but im sure he actually tried and they let him.

so end result? off to campbells' police station. where they did some formal paper work and booked him proper. they asked him if he would like to take a urine test, or blood test.. what do you think? yep.. wtf!!. steve once in a while gets creative, or brave.. or perhaps he tunes out everything and is clueless! so of course he opts for the blood test, where even the officer asked him again. after she wasn't sure steve understood. he still selected the blood test. so a pin prick, a few minutes passing and then the nurse and officer returned to ask him if he knew the legal limit for cali's. b.a.c.. steve without hesitation said.. 8.25! the cop laughed and ask him only if he were to buy the alcohol. they corrected him kindly and informed him that his level was .21!! where as the limit is only .08!! ouch! almost triple the limit. wtf!. im happy he didnt hurt himself or anyone else.

he explained time blurred at this point and with a short ride later he was down in the drunk tank in the main downtown jail. around 8ish. where he said it was early and only a couple of people were present. but an eternity of a sobering 8 hours later and 30 more guests slowly piled up. leaving the 20x20 cell cramped and filled with deviants, some speaking to themselves, being on one substance or another.. had him screaming for his release. he was shown mercy and set free. so taking an expensive cab ride back to campbell (the silver lining shows up) where his car was still parked!! he explained that the cops when booking him must of felt his good nature or felt sorry for him so they had asked him if he would like them to leave the car there, or have it towed downtown. he said.. by all means leave it! ha..and so as it was..


he said in conclusion he spent about four grand, endured tri-weekly classes for 9 months, and sat next to some 3rd and 4th time offenders, folks with real issues. it had him thinking clearly about it all since. he still does the proverbial WTF regularly, and he still drinks.. but definitely no driving under any influence, especially good since hes a pothead also. i smiled the whole time listening with appreciation and admiration for his unique character. and of course for sharing such a fantanstic story. like ive stated before you cant help but root for the guy. with his warm heart and hilarious nature speaks well over his lack of comprehension. so hopefully he will neverchange! then maybe in the near future, ill have a couple more stories to add. especially those about women. sigh. its a wtf convention


-denn