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Dark Halo: Chronicles of Fright (part 01)
Posted By: Wado<wyamauchi@msn.com>
Date: 13 January 2003, 10:00 am
Read/Post Comments
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Warning: Proceed with caution -- The following story has been known to cause sudden chills and horrific fear in death row prisoners used as test subjects. Some things are worse than death.
Prologue to the Last Days of Halo
The crackling of an open fire can sooth a chilled soul. Roasting chestnuts and making smores, a jolly old time. But if you can imagine, just maybe this once, that nothing, nothing at all, is as it seems, then just maybe you are one step closer to the truth, the evil truth.
As day turns to night, the fire burns, and by the fire children dance and play -- their shadows become dark impish figures darting from tree to tree, in between they become slender giants across the fields, and on the wall they return to familiar forms.
"Please, pretty please with sweetness on top," insisted little Timmy. "Tell us a story, oh mother Archon, tell us a scary story."
"A scary story, why I couldn't, you are but children," replied the Archon. "Now off to bed with all of you, tomorrow is another day."
Off to bed the children go. Comforted by the presence of the Archon, the children are oblivious to the shadows and voices in the wind.
"Tell us then. Tell us the story," creaked the shadows in the wind.
"Very well," sings the Archon in the night air.
When bedtime comes, the children sleep and the Archon gathers the shadows. With a gaze as beautiful as the northern lights over white tundra and as piercing as icy claws slashing deep into the chest, the Archon tells a story, a scary story. The shadows chill into the night, listening intently.
However, still not all is as it seems. Hidden to the rear of the shadows is Timmy. Pretending to be asleep, his deception has not yet been discovered; but he shall pay a price for his actions, tonight his veins will freeze over, his dreams will be haunted... he will learn what really happens to little boys who deceive.
In the chilly wind the story is told... The story of the last days of Halo.
The Last Days of Halo
"Oh, just great," said Corporal Janette Jones. "We've been stranded out here on this flying hula hoop for nearly twelve hours and look at this. Lieutenant, sir, look at this."
"Yes Jones, I saw it," replied Lieutenant Thomas Black, "and it's called burnt wood, someone had a campfire here. What are you all excited about Corporal?"
"Not just someone, us," snapped Jones. "With respect sir, we've been moving in circles."
With hearing those last words, the young Lieutenant kneeled down to examine the burnt wood. "First Jones, this isn't a flying hula hoop we are stuck on, it's a ring world with a diameter of 10,000 kilometers, built by aliens a hundred thousand years ago, it's a freaking masterpiece of engineering," stated Black. "Second, this is not our campfire. Thirty Company is probably spread out all over the valley below and in these hills, it could easily be any other team that left this here."
"Lieutenant sir," interrupted Sergeant Steven Pepper.
"Yes, what is it Sergeant?"
"Sir, this site looks quite defensible, I recommend setting up camp here."
"Make it so Sergeant."
"Yes sir," replied Pepper. "Private Gott, Private Wong, setup watch up there."
"Yes Sarge," the two soldiers said. Private Gott, a tall and slender, blond-haired and blue-eyed man of Norseman decent took point with his long armed S2 AM Sniper Rifle. Close behind was Wong, as always, silent and low to the ground one could hardly tell that he too was nearly two meters tall. Once a champion off-world surfer, Wong was incredibly agile for his size.
Sergeant Pepper looked at the rest of Zulu team, the saddest looking bunch of saps the Pillar of Autumn ever had. "The rest of you know the drill, and someone wake up Higgins."
"Yes Sarge," said the muffled and tired voices of Zulu team.
Private Charles Tucker and Private Robert Johnson dumped their heavy packs and headed out to gather something to burn in a fire. Private Emily Parker nudged Private Scot Higgins before dragging her feet to Private Pedro Cruz to help take inventory. So altogether that made eight, all that was left of Zulu team.
Zulu team, with the exception of the Sergeant, was a bunch of misfits as far as the military was concerned. Every one of them had served long enough to be at least two grades higher, but they couldn't make the grade because of insubordination or other personal problems. No commanding officer wanted one of these misfits, so they all got dumped under the command of the young Lieutenant -- and the young Lieutenant was not without his own problems too. No one would have guessed that these marines would have even survived this long in a hostile environment.
"I've seen more enthusiasm in a pack of dead rats," growled the Sergeant. "Let's get to it ladies." The Sergeant was beginning to sound like a broken record, well at least to those who knew anything about that audio technology from six hundred years ago.
Meanwhile, while camp was getting set up, Black and Jones conversed quietly in the background. "Corporal Jones, you're the communications expert, where are the damn transponder signals?"
"Sir, there is powerful electromagnetic interference in this area, communication and navigation devices are going haywire," whispered Jones. "It's no wonder why the enemy forces don't seem to be around, the Covenant equipment is probably equally messed up here. There just is no way sir."
"Damn it Corporal, do your job, find a way to cut through this interference, that's an order."
"But... Yes sir..." whimpered Corporal Jones but her soul burned at the sight of the young Lieutenant walking away. "Who does he think he is, anyway, God's gift to the UNSC?"
"Hey Jonesey, why the long face?" said Private Higgins who suddenly appeared behind Jones. "Crap Jonesey, if looks could kill, we'd all be dead by now."
"Shut your trap Private, I'm in no mood to deal with your insubordination," responded Jones.
"But looky Jonesey, look what I have, good times, want some candy?"
"How did you get this?"
"They never check everything in med kits," whispered Higgins, "and besides, there is nothing wrong with having a little edge in this job. Just take one, it will help calm your nerves and sharpen your mind, focus better. What more could you ask for?"
"Neural stimulants may be an acceptable battlefield drug, but this is stuff you made in that little lab you had, isn't it?" questioned Jones. After a deep breath, Jones continued, "But, darn it, if the Lieutenant isn't driving me crazy. Got to let go. Breath, breath, calm down -- Alright Higgins, give me one."
The effects of the drug are almost immediate. Jones sits and listens to the soft static that fills the communication channels. "Lieutenant Black, come here."
"Yes Corporal, what is it?" said Black. "By the way there is blood coming out of your ear. I thought I told you to lay off those neural stimulants."
"Just a little boost, sir," replied Jones, "and besides I found something. By filtering out the foreground static, I found this. Listen to it."
Black listens to the sound mix produced by Jones. "It sounds like wind or moaning. What is it?"
"That's at normal speed, here is it at ten times normal speed. Can you hear it now?"
"Yes, definitely a pattern."
"Yes sir it is," gleefully said Jones. "It's a signal from one of our beacons. There's an evac zone just 20 clicks from here. We can make it in less than a day."
"Good work Jones..." uttered Black but he is cut off in mid sentence by an explosion. "What the..."
"Incoming!" yelled Private Cruz, the team's heavy weapon's specialist. "Enemy fuel rod cannon."
"There sir, above us a Covie Banshee," shouted Sergeant Pepper. The Covenant Banshee loomed far above; this enemy ground attack aircraft was the bane of death to any ground troops caught in the open or under light cover.
Boom! another explosion, this one very close to Lieutenant Black. "Spread out and return fire."
"Sir, fire ineffective, the Banshee is too far away and the bastard's hiding in the sun," said Private Wong as he slid down a small hill towards the Lieutenant. "We need heavy weapons."
Boom! "Cruz, where's the damn SAMs?" shouted Black.
"The first explosion blew them over there, I'll get them sir," replied Cruz. "I can run the 50 meters in 6 seconds." Darting from side to side, Cruz makes his way to one M19 SSM Rocket Launcher. "I got one, lock and load. I've got you niño, just one more sec..."
Boom! The explosion of a fuel rod cannon hits just three meters from him. Cruz feels a dull pain shoot through his abdomen.
"Cruz!" shouted Sergeant Pepper, but Cruz only hears rumbling cloaked in silence. The pressure wave from explosion has popped both Cruz's eardrums, and now he is deaf. Cruz looks down; he is bleeding with the ends of a two-foot piece of kindling sticking out of his front and back -- blown through him by the explosion.
"Mama!" shouted Cruz, but he could not hear his own cries. The darkness fell upon him as his vision faded away until he could see only tiny, lighted circles surrounded by a tunnel of black.
More screams are heard from Private Tucker and Private Johnson. Another Banshee peeked over a hill on a strafing run. Plasma bolts sprayed the line across Tucker and Johnson. Tucker was the lucky one, his face melted into his chest and he died before his body hit ground.
The searing plasma struck Johnson's ammo belt -- Rounds popped like firecrackers. His armor protected most of his vitals, but rounds shot through his right foot, his legs, and arms, but worst of all, one went up through his chin and into his head.
"There's always two of them," said Corporal Jones from behind a rock. "Look out, he's coming back."
The second Banshee looped up and spun around as if to make another strafing run, but smoke bellowed from its aft. It had taken heavy fire from Zulu team on that last pass. Instead it turned away, to comeback and fight on another day.
It would not make it though. On top of a hill, like a guardian angel, one figure stood tall with a fuel rod cannon in each hand. From his right he fired and the green ball of fire shot forth and sent the Banshee crashing in flames. From his left he fired up, and again he brought smite to his victim.
So high above, there was an explosion and that Banshee was also no more.
"Oh God, is it him?" asked Jones.
"No," said Private Gott from afar. He had his sniper scope zoomed in right on the figure. "This is not the Spartan, it is just a man. A man of God by his clothing."
The figure approached, walking past the lifeless Private Tucker and paying no heed to the dying Private Johnson. A tall and handsome fellow, he walked with conviction and around his neck he wore a collar, the collar of a reverend.
"Hold it right there, that's far enough," ordered Sergeant Pepper. The Sergeant held his assault rifle high and his right eye aligned so precisely across the top of the weapon that you might think he had already mentally pulled the trigger.
The man stopped, raising his hands to his sides, but still holding his weapons. "You have nothing to fear, but fear itself Sergeant. Can you not see I am a friend?"
Lieutenant Black gestured for the Sergeant to lower his weapon. "Yes, you did help us and you seem to be a man of God. Tell me father, what unit are you from, I don't recognize your markings?"
There is rustle in the background as Private Higgins and others tended to the wounded. The man looked around at the others slowly and then focused back at the Lieutenant saying, "I once was a man of God, but that was before the demons got me. I had an apotheosis and those demons are dead. Now God serves me."
"Identify yourself," demanded Black.
"Oh forgive me Lieutenant Black, sometimes I speak in tongues to cope with the harshness of reality. I am Corporal Travis Franklin. I was stationed on the Iroquois."
"How could that be?" asked Black.
"I was a prisoner of war. The Covenant did unspeakable things to me, but as God is my witness, I got them back for that."
"How did you do that?" questioned Black.
"I did it with this," said Franklin as he dropped his weapons to the ground and reached into his shirt. Realizing that Sergeant Pepper was looking at him funny he slowly reached in saying, "Nothing to worry about, see look." Franklin pulled out his hand revealing a small golden object the shape of an animal's horn.
"You killed an animal and took its horn?" remarked Black.
"No, this is not just a horn my young Lieutenant," replied Franklin.
"Sir, I need your assistance," interjected Higgins who was attending to the wounded.
"Pepper, keep an eye on Mr. Franklin, if he does anything out of the ordinary, shoot him," suggested Black, "and Mr. Franklin, I'm not done with you so don't get any strange ideas. By the way, your story is full of holes."
Black approached Higgins and looked over the results of the medical scan. It didn't look good for Private Johnson; in fact, he probably would not last the hour. Black looked at Johnson. "Bobby, it's not so bad, we're have you up in no time. Higgins, give Bobby something for the pain."
"I did sir."
"Give him some more and tell him he's going to be okay," said Black.
"I'm only a junior medic, sir, I..."
"Arrrg, I don't want to die," exclaimed Johnson, but his words could hardly be made out due to the hole that had shot through his tongue.
"Tell him, Higgins, you're the closest thing we have to a medic now aren't you?"
"Yes, no worries Bobby, you're getting better, here's something to ease the pain." Higgins injected painkillers into Johnson.
Johnson's eyes glazed over and he stared blankly into the sky; he was flying higher than a kite.
Higgins took a deep breath, at least the air here was safe to breathe. "Ah sir, Cruz is over there, he can't hear and barely can see, but I think he will make it. The piece of wood that impaled him came out cleanly. I'm concerned about infection and he should not be moved for at least seventy-two hours."
"We don't have the luxury to stay here seventy-two hours," said Black.
"Sir, another problem," said Corporal Jones. "I'm not sure, but those Banshees, well, they might have gotten a communication to the other Covenant."
"How could that be Jones?" snapped Black. His face turned pale at the thought. "Aren't they affected by the interference too?"
"I don't know sir, I think I picked up a signal, the first Banshee was awful high up, perhaps the interference isn't as strong up there."
With concern in his face, Black looked at the Sarge. "Pepper, how long would we have before a Covenant strike force arrives?"
"Standard Covenant reaction time, seven minutes or so after they discover the Banshees didn't make it back home." The Sarge replied.
Black muttered to himself saying, "Ten minutes back, plus seven minutes, plus ten minutes here, minus the time we've been here. That gives us less than ten minutes to get out of here and under different cover."
"Might I suggest something Lieutenant Black?" asked Travis Franklin. "There are some caves only a few minutes away from here. Perfect cover."
"You can lead us there?" said Black.
"Yes."
"Alright, we move out," said Black, "and Higgins, we have to risk moving Cruz, do what you can for him, you have two minutes. Everyone else, load up all the essentials, everything else we can't carry, leave it, that includes Tucker."
"Sir, we can't leave his dead body here," blurted Jones.
"Just the essentials, got it?" said Black.
Jones looked around; everyone on the team already looked quite encumbered having to carry Johnson and Cruz plus more equipment. She could not carry anymore herself, especially not another seventy kilograms of dead mass. "Yes, sir," she responded.
Franklin moved over Tucker's dead body. "Ashes to ashes, burning is the only salvation for the dead here," he said, then he took out a vile and poured the contents onto Tucker's chest. The smell was bitter and burned the nostrils. Tucker's chest melted into a gooey mess of charred flesh and liquefied bone.
"What the hell," said Black.
"His last rites Lieutenant," replied Franklin. "These vials of chemicals have come in quite handy, I gather it is some kind of Covenant holy water, but no time for explanations now. Do you not think we ought to be going, I sense we soon will not be alone."
"Right," said Black. "Let's go."
Zulu team made their way towards some higher hills and down into a concealed ravine. The scenery went from semi-arid with few trees to a dense forest. The trees were very strange here -- giant bulbs with florescent green tops and out cropping like vines instead of branches. Many of the larger trees were as hard as rock, petrified perhaps. Some had large holes in them as if something had blown out from their insides.
The trees blocked the sunlight. Zulu team proceeded under the light of flashlights.
"Ahhhh!" gasped Private Parker. Immediately flashlights shined in her direction.
"What is it Emily," asked Jones.
"I swear I saw faces in those trees," whispered Parker. "Sir, I don't like it here, let's turn back."
"We're almost there, Lieutenant," said Franklin. "We must keep moving, there is indigenous life here, creatures that live in the trees and could be mistaken for something else, maybe even resembling faces. There is nothing to worry about so long as we leave them alone. Much better in the caves."
"I don't like these woods either, let's get to the caves," ordered Black.
As the group moved to the entrance of the cave, Private Gott bent down to brush something off of his boot. Wong huddled next to him. "I love UNSC standard issue boots," said Gott. "They are so comfortable. Would you not say so Franklin?"
"Ah, never thought much about that Private, I suppose they are comfortable," replied Franklin.
"You know Franklin," said Wong, "I don't know, sometimes I just like to take off my boots and run around in my bare feet. It's so relaxing. Do you ever do that Franklin?"
"No, I prefer to keep my boots on," said Franklin. "The cave entrance is right there, shall we go in?"
The cave entrance was concealed well in the trees but it was big enough to fit a tank through. This was not a natural formation, well as if anything on an artificial ring world was natural. This cave was constructed in perfect symmetry with the entrance leading into a large chamber with four smaller chambers to the sides and straight ahead a large tunnel.
Large circular alien symbols adorned the walls of the large chamber. From the inside of the cave, on the wall over the entrance, in very large purple letters were written the words Travis was here.
To the sides of the entrance lay piles of Covenant equipment: Mostly the armor of Elites but buried under that at least one unique armor of a Hunter and many Jackal shields. No Covenant weapons were visible.
There was a thin layer of green liquid that coated the floor of the large chamber. Something small and wet dropped from above and struck Private Parker on the head. "Ahhh," gasped Parker, this time lights flashed up to the ceiling. The ceiling was moving.
"Hold your fire," shouted Franklin. "It's the guardian of this cave, it will not harm you so long as I am here with you, but if you fire on it, I cannot protect you."
"Guardian? What kind of trickery is this?" said Black.
"It's for your own good, I had to get you to safety Lieutenant," insisted Franklin. "Would you have come if I told you that an enormous alien creature guarded the cave?"
Lieutenant Black did not answer, instead he looked around. His team was tired and needed to rest.
"Lieutenant, you will find the side chambers quite comfortable and dry," said Franklin. "You can have chambers one and two over there. Chamber three will be for supplies and chamber four is mine. No one go down the long tunnel, trust me on that."
"Since when are you giving the orders, Franklin," remarked Corporal Jones.
"He's not giving the orders," said Black, "but his suggestions are much appreciated. We owe him our thanks, understood." Black looked around at the team.
"Yes sir," replied Zulu team.
Black opened his mouth as if to say something to Franklin, but Franklin walked into chamber four without so much as a second glance. He seemed a bit tired. After Franklin was out of sight, Black signaled for the team to meet in chamber one.
In chamber one, Parker stood watch at the entrance. Black and the others huddled together.
"Sir the place is clean, no electronic surveillance devices," whispered Jones, "but I still feel like we are being watched."
"Jones, give us some white noise," whispered Black. "Alright, Gott."
"Sir, there were human foot prints along the path to this cave. They were bare feet, at least five different sets. Going in and out." Gott pulled out a small chip and placed it in Jones' communication equipment. "These are the pictures from my scope. Here's the tracks and notice those lines. They were dragging something into the cave. Say less than one hour ago."
"Good work, Higgins what do you got?"
"Sir, I took samples of that liquid found in the main chamber," said Higgins, "and it matches the properties of a lubricant and coolant, but there are at least forty unknown elements in it. Oh, and get this, it is jam packed with nutrients. Like a super food solution."
"Anything more?"
"No sir, still working on it."
"Jones?"
Corporal Jones looked worried. "Sir, I've gone over the transmissions and found some discrepancies. The signal that I thought came from the Covenant Banshee; well I think it came from somewhere else. Someone one else transmitted our location to the Covenant."
"Perhaps some other Covenant forces then," said Black.
"No, I don't think it was Covenant, sir," Jones said reluctantly. "Sir, the magnetic interference lessened at that time, just long enough for the transmission to get out. Whomever sent out the transmission must be generating the magnetic interference."
A whisper came from Parker saying "Sir, Franklin has just gone down the tunnel. The one he said we shouldn't go down."
Black shook his head. "Our Corporal Travis Franklin is looking more suspicious all the time. Gott, Wong, Pepper with me, Jones you're in charge, stay here with the wounded."
Black's team moved cautiously into the main chamber, staying near the outer wall. The creature in the ceiling stirred but did nothing else. Reaching the tunnel, they could see a dim light moving away, that had to be Franklin.
The green liquid drained down the tunnel and into the unknown. Franklin's light was moving quickly away. How long was this tunnel? They must have traveled several hundred meters already.
Meanwhile, back at chamber one, Private Parker's canteen hits the ground. Jones and Higgins look up -- their mouths drop wide open. Standing at the doorway is Corporal Travis Franklin.
"Emily, you seemed to have spilled your water," Franklin said with a big smirk across his face. "I take it you are in charge Janette, where are the others?"
"That's Corporal Jones to you," said Jones in a menacing voice, "and you know damn right where the others are. Don't you."
"Alright Corporal, but I do not know where the others are," said Franklin, "but if they strayed from the path, it was because of their own lack of faith. Isn't that so Emily?"
"Yes Travis," Private Emily Parker responded.
"Yes, that is right Emily, the faces in the woods talked to you, didn't they?" said Franklin. "They told you things. You know that I am your only salvation."
Parker just stood there with a blank look on her face.
"You're mad!" shouted Jones, but as she reached for her rifle she found it was no longer there.
"It's better this way," said Higgins. He held Jones' rifle in hand. "After examining the samples of that green liquid, I just had to try it out myself. It's the nectar of the gods; there is just no other explanation. I gave it to Cruz and Johnson too."
Cruz and Johnson both sit up and pull their bandages aside. They appear fully healed. "Never felt better," remarked Johnson. "Me too," added Cruz.
Scratching, clawing, and biting, Private Janette Jones in dragged out to the main chamber where she sees it. The guardian of the cave has descended to reveal itself -- thousands of tendrils the length of a hundred meters each and one large orb in the middle.
One tendril drops to Franklin. He rams the small end of the gold horn into the tendril. The guardian screeches as if in great pain or ecstasy. The green liquid pours out, first slowly and then like a hose.
Emily drinks from the horn of her own free will.
Franklin turns to Jones, "Janette, it is useless to resist. It will grow inside you and as long as you take care of it and feed it, you will be immortal. Disease and normal wounds cannot hurt you. You will become a god. However, if you don't feed it or treat it right, it will kill you. A perfect symbiotic relationship."
"Go to hell, all of you," shouted Jones. Janette tries to fight, but she is too weak and they too strong. She is dragged to the horn and the liquid is forced down her throat. Her head is spinning and she blacks out.
Deep down the tunnel, Lieutenant Black senses it all was a trick. "Let's go back," he said. However, the corridor back was blocked -- Many large tendrils filled the corridor.
Ahead of them were strange screams. Sergeant Pepper's flashlight lit up a group of men approaching. Their uniforms were shredded, faces and skin decaying, and their feet were bare. They moaned like monsters and walked liked zombies.
Zulu team opened fire, but there were too many of them. The creatures smelled of rancid meat but could jump easily 10 meters. One of the creatures grabbed Gott and he struggled to get it off, until finally picking it up and tossing it away.
"Lieutenant, I feel a draft, there's a hole in this wall here," shouted Sergeant Pepper.
"Save yourselves," shouted Lieutenant Black just before squeezing into the hole.
Pepper kept firing. "Gott, Wong, into the hole, hurry up."
It was too late for Gott though; the mighty Norseman was grabbed by three of the creatures. Two held him still and the third creature pulled Gott's head off.
"Gott!" screamed Wong.
"Hurry up Wong," shouted Pepper.
"You go Sarge, I'm too big to fit in that hole," said Wong.
Pepper would never willingly leave one of his own behind, but Wong was right, that big guy would not fit into the hole. Pepper handed Wong some more ammo and then headed into the hole.
Small arms fire could be heard for another minute, then Pepper heard some muffled screams, and then nothing but silence. Pepper felt a strong breeze from the tunnel and bright light up ahead.
Something was behind Pepper, he felt it touch his foot. He never moved so fast up that hole, but the hole seemed to go forever.
Finally, when Pepper reached the light, he found he had climbed to the surface. The Lieutenant was waiting for him. Pepper was relieved and started to pull himself out the hole when something grabbed his leg.
Pepper was pulled back into the hole until half his body was still above ground. "Damn!" shouted Pepper.
Black grabbed Pepper's arm. "Hang on Sarge!" Black pulled with all his might.
With a big rip, Black pulled Pepper's arm up, only all he had was the Sergeant's arm. The rest of Pepper was gone down the hole. Black stood for several minutes shaking and holding Pepper's bloody stump of an arm.
All seemed quiet now. The sun was low in the sky. Black put Peppers arm down carefully in the dirt and headed towards the evac point. He knew that everyone else was dead.
Time passed and Black finally reached the top of a hill that looked down on a great field. Black could hardly keep his eyes open. From the vantage point on the hill, Black saw one Pelican drop ship below with people around it.
Black tried radio contact, but there was nothing but static. He then sprinted down the hill and made his way to the Pelican. Tired and wore out, Black stumbled into the area next to where the Pelican had landed. All the way Black had prayed that they would not leave without him.
He could hear the Pelican's engines roaring. He was almost there, but the Pelican started to lift off. It hovered about 20 meters off the ground.
Black looked up and pulled out his pistol. The ammo gauge indicated that he only had one round left. Using the scope on the pistol, he zoomed in on the Pelican. Black was going to fire a shot to get the ship's attention; however, what he saw through the scope changed that idea. Through the scope he could see Corporal Janette Jones waving back at him and in big red letters on the bottom of the Pelican were the words, Travis was here.
Black heard rustling and moaning noises approaching. Slowly he looked around. Those zombie creatures had him surrounded. They slowly were closing in on him.
High above, the Pelican's engines blasted as it moved away at high speeds. With a crazed look on his face, Black placed his pistol, barrel first into his mouth. Click, a misfire, click, click, click. It was over, or soon would be. Black dropped his pistol and made one last prayer, he prayed for death.
In the distance a great flash of light was seen. Black smiled, he had seen many simulations of thermal-nuclear weapons, and this one was huge. His prayer had been answered.
Aftermath
By the campfire of the Archon, the shadows listen. The story is over and even shadows must sleep. "Good night," said the Archon.
The next morning the children awoke to find that little Timmy was missing. The only clue was a message painted in big red letters on his bed; it read... Travis was here.
-- The End --
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