A Life with No Light and Other Stories
By Kayla Moseley
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A Life with No Light and Other Stories 1
By Kayla Moseley 1
Title page 3
Copyright Page 3
Table of Contents 3
A Life with No Light 3
The Cost of Mercy 3
Guinea Pig 4
About the Author 4
A Life with No Light 5
The Cost of Mercy 9
Guinea Pig 12
About the Author 15
Title page
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
A Life with No Light
The Cost of Mercy
Guinea Pig
About the Author
A Life with No Light
January 29th, 2027, 07:30 A.M.
It’s been more than a month since my mother was wrongfully killed. I had gone to the town several hours away to get some special scraps and pick up food. After being in town for twenty minutes, I heard a man screaming from one of the bars to come look. When I went over I heard a radio blaring a news report. It was saying that the Oklahoma City MFB, (Military Family Base) had been bombed by Korean bombers. A small group of the military was dispatched to find any survivors yet, none were found. After the news I decided to stay in the city of Shawnee, Oklahoma.
January 30th, 2027, 09:05 A.M.
I have decided that the only way to avenge my mother is to enroll in the military. Maybe then I can also find my father.
February 2nd, 2027, 08:14 A.M.
I went to the recruitment center today. However, when I gave them my I.D. they told me that I had to wait. A few moment s later a van pulled up and they told me to get in. Now I believe I am on the way to the military base so I can start my training.
February 2nd, 2027, 09:25 A.M.
The military has betrayed me. They have sent me to an orphanage. Apparently they thought I was dead and when they pulled me up in the system it said I was to be relocated here. The man who brought me said that because I am the last boy of my family that I cannot enlist. Something about keeping the family name alive. He also told me that because of my fathers contract I could not be released, until I was of legal age, 18. I believe this is ridiculous and they cannot hold me here.
May 21st, 2027, 05:47 A.M.
It’s been three months and I have tried four of my escape plans. All of them have failed. The military will not let me leave this orphanage. It is horrible there are many kids’ here and there is not enough space for everyone to sleep. I need to get out of here.
May 21st, 2027, 11:12 A.M.
I received a letter today from my father. After the MFB had been blown up, he thought that my mother and I had both been killed. That is until they reentered me into the system three months ago. My father told me that he was going to come and take me out of this orphanage. I can’t wait to see him and leave this horrible place.
July 3rd, 2027, 05:02 A.M.
My father has snuck away from his military post to come rescue me. He has heard of the horrors of being in an orphanage, and he doesn’t want me there any longer. He says that we must move fast and travel far away because if we are caught he will be killed. Right now we are heading back up north towards, Colorado. My father say’s that he has a military friend that agreed to hide us.
September 6th, 2027, 10:44 A.M.
The federal marshals are right on our tails. My father says that we need to keep moving north and try and make it to Canada before they catch us.
September 29th, 2027, 11:58 P.M.
We are watched very closely by everyone. The military has every citizen against my father and I. I’m not sure how we are going to make it out of this.
November 14th, 2027, 01:39 P.M.
My father and I found a train station and hopped it to the city Great Fall, Montana. We only have a little more to go before we make it to Canada.
December 5th, 2027, 08:11 A.M.
Today I woke up in Canada. After my father and I had made it to the boarder, we immediately tried to cross over. However, the U.S. Military had set traps. As my father ran ahead to scout out the area, he had stepped on a mine. His right leg was blown off instantly. As I laid there with my dyeing father he wisped to me, “Do you see it?” I didn’t understand him at all. He then whispered, “Can you feel the warmth.” I thought my father was going mad from loss of blood, until I felt it. I looked up into the sky while I was holding my father in my lap and we enjoyed the warmth of the sun on our faces. My father died with a smile on his face.
The Cost of Mercy
Mark stared at the red on the carpet. This can’t be happening, he thought. This was supposed to be a hoax. He shook his head. You need to snap out of it, Mark thought. She needs you right now. His wife Mary stared back at his as he looked into her eyes. He loved her eyes, they were a blue green with brown around the pupil. Now, when she looks at him, all he can see is how bloodshot they are.
He brushed his hand over her cheek, trying not to flinch at her cold skin. His face must have revealed panic.
“Honey, are you ok?” Mary asked.
“Yes, of course I am. Are you?” Mark asked.
“Of course,” Mary said smiling.
Mark knew of course she was lying he could see how she felt. The night before, Mark had seen a breaking news alert about some sort of virus that was spreading through the United States. They stated that rats were infected with a disease that when bitten would cause the human to be killed, reanimated, and given the need to kill humans.
It all seemed like a hoax really. Until that morning, one of the little demons wiggled its way up the sink, biting Mary on the arm.
Mary groaned. Causing mark to look down. Blood dripped from the dark red gauze on her arm.
“Mark?” Mary asked with a worried voice.
“It’s OK,” Mark said, “I’m going to the kitchen to get you a new bandage and a glass of water.”
Mary smiled and choked out a thank you. Standing at the refrigerator, Mark leaned forward and placed his forehead on the freezer door. I know what I have to do, Mark thought, but I can’t. How could I explain that to our children? However, letting her live would jeopardize the lives of others.
A small scuffle to his left startled him. His heart raced and his mind thought of one of those demon rats. Yet, it was only his, eight-year-old, daughter Isabelle.
“Is mommy going to be alright?” Isabelle asked. Her voice muffled from behind a stuffed bear.
“Of course, honey,” Mark said, forcing a smile.
Cody, Marks ten-year-old son, peaked over Isabelle’s shoulder.
“Is she really?” Cody asked.
“Yes, of course she is,” Mark said. “Now go pack some clothes, we are going to go on a little vacation so mommy can rest alone. OK?”
Cody and Isabelle ran off to their rooms to pack their bags.
Mark returned to the living room to find Mary covered in sweat. Her skin was pale and her mouth began dripping blood. The linen where she sat was red with blood. Mark ran over and picked her up, carrying her to their spare bedroom.
“Why are you bringing me to the spare bedroom?” Mary asked.
“Oh, I was going to do some rearranging in the room and I didn’t want to keep waking you,” Mark said.
“Well, OK.”
Mark laid Mary on the bed and looked into her eyes. Her pupils were almost covered by blood. Blinking hard, Mark kept the tears in his eyes at bay.
“I’m taking the kids for a little bit, until you get better,” Mark said.
“OK, honey,” Mary said faintly as she passed out on the bed.
“I love you,” Mark said in a whisper as he closed the bedroom door. She will be fine here alone, Mark thought. Unable to harm anyone. He ran to the master bedroom to gather his items.
After several minutes of packing, Mark stopped when a loud bang came from the other bedroom. Mark reached in the nightstand and pulled out a nine millimeter pistol. Loading it as he walked for the master bedroom door.
Suddenly a loud scream echoed through the house and Mark ran. He stopped at the guest bedroom and his eyes went wide filling with tears. Mary, who once was his beautiful wife, held the limp body of Isabelle in her arms. Mary ripped into Isabelle’s neck using her teeth, until she saw Mark, dropping her body to the floor. Mary jumped toward Mark her eyes completely covered in a white film and blood.
Lifting his gun, he closed his eyes and screamed.
Guinea Pig
Greg’s eyes shot open as he gasped for air. His eyes burned as they became accustomed to the new light. Even though his vision was foggy, he could tell he was in a white room. Greg reached for his nose, gagging. The room smelled of ammonia and mildew. His sight returned fully and he could tell that the walls were made from pure white scales. His work suit was replaced with a nightgown made out of unusual material. Greg attempted to stand up, but his legs didn’t move. He rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up with his arms. He grabbed the only chair in the room and tried to hoist himself up, but fell.
“What’s going on?” Greg asked.
Greg sat down leaning against the wall. He rubbed his eyes and then moved to rub his neck. He stopped when a pain shot through his neck and down his back. Touching it, he realized they were large needle holes. Greg pulled his hand away to see a small trickle of blood on his finger. His heart raced.
“What’s going on?” Greg asked again. “Why do I have holes in my neck? Why isn’t anyone answering me?”
A bang came from the left side of the room. Greg jumped, sliding across the floor in the opposite direction. He hit the wall, realizing he could maneuver his legs again. Across the room, a cat-sized door opened at the bottom of the wall and someone pushed a plate of food in. Greg examined the plate realizing it was pizza.
He grabbed the pepperoni slice, scarfing it down without thinking. He got a funny taste in his mouth and tried to spit out the pieces he was still chewing. Yet, it was too late the drugs had taken effect. Losing feelings in his legs and his eye sight going hazy. Greg tried to hold himself up with his arms, but it was no use. Giant black shadows began to fill the room as his head hit the ground and he blacked out.
After awhile, Greg woke up in a red room, his eyes burning like before. Greg tried to move, but realized he was tied to a table. A door swung open to his right and two giant green monsters entered the room. The creatures looked like nothing he had ever seen before. They had green scales covering their bodies, with small black beaded eyes; and sharp, jagged teeth, pointed in several directions.
“Please,” Greg asked, “Don’t hurt me, I’ll do whatever you want.”
The creature reached underneath the table and pulled out a square device strapping it to his face. The creature flipped a switch, grunting several times in different languages until he got to English.
“Not to worry,” It said. “We only want to inject you with some of our new serums, to test them. The first one caused temporary paralysis.”
“I don’t understand,” Greg asked. “Why would you use humans as a test subject?”
The creature laughed, “because your planet was the closest.”
A large crash shook the ship, causing the aliens to look at each other. The lager alien gestured for the other to follow and they ran out of the room. The feeling in Greg’s body had returned. Greg turned his body to the right and putt all his weight on the leather cuff. Bending it enough to slip his hand free, so he could untie himself.
Greg ran out the door and down a long hallway. At the end, there were two doorways. One had three aliens grunting loudly at each other while pressing bubble-like buttons. Entering the second entryway Greg noticed the room had several medium sized, rectangular doors.
I hope this is an escape pod, Greg thought. He crawled through one of the doors and laid on a spongy like material. A holographic image of a universe popped up in front of him. A loud grunt, like the ones the creatures made, came from the machine. Scrolling through he found Earth and pressed it. The machine jerked and the door slammed shut. More holograms popped up in front of him much like it was counting down.
The holograms disappeared and the machine jolted. Pressing a button, a list popped up. Looking through it he found the word, English. He pressed it as the ship began to shake frantically. The ship hit something, jerking Greg forward. A voice screamed throughout the ship.
YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT EARTH, TIME JANUARY FIFTH, NINTEEN NINTEY FOUR, LOCATION-TEN FEET UNDER BALTIC SEA SURFACE.
Looking around Greg noticed a button above the door he had entered. Pressing it with his foot it popped open. Water began to fill the machine.
“Freedom here I come,” Greg said.
About the Author
Kayla Joan Moseley is a short story author, and screenwriter. Kayla is receiving her Creative Writing and Fine Arts Bachelor Degree from Full Sail University. She writes in all genres; however, her favorite type is horror. Kayla has written many short stories and a few short films. When she is not working as a supervisor, she is joining a local group to practice fencing. To see more of Kayla, you can visit her at KaylaJoanMoseley.