5
The sky boomed, a gigantic flying object making its way to the surface. It was covered in a blaze of fire, a few pieces of the hull breaking off from it. I squinted my eyes, my right hand shielding away the snow, trying to make a solid description of the ship. It appeared to be a passenger ship, an S-class model, used to transport space travelers to a distant galaxy. I could not make out the color, to be exact, but it was heading for the hills, a few miles from town. And from the way it was nose diving, I knew that they were going to be casualties.
“It looks like they caught another one,” I sighed, covering my face underneath the hood, walking along the side of the road.
I watched the ship crash against the side of the hill, sparks of electricity and fire reigning from above, and the noise from falling debris ear deafening. Upon seeing that light show, I highly doubted that anyone survived, not that it mattered to me. Descending further, I finally saw the outline of the town, the last house on the left, with a smoking chimney. A few road vehicles had been parked next to it; I think I also saw a child peering through the window. The excess snow on the porch had been shoveled off, as well as the sides of the house. It was a small house, about three bedrooms, a dining room, two bathrooms, and a kitchen. It ran electric power, to my surprise, through my mechanical gear contraption that generated power through some sort of kinetic energy power source. Creeping up closer, my hand trained on my flintlock, I peeped through the window, trying to see what was going on inside. I heard a ruckus, and saw a few children sitting by the fireplace, warming themselves up. And on the cotton sofas, there were a few adults sitting next to each other, eating warm biscuits with some tea, their backs turned towards me. I saw the mayor—he came from the other room, a basket of bread in his hands. Turning around, I approached the door, knocking on it with haste, my hands completely numb.
There was silence after my knocks, the wind still whirling through the night, and the trees completely camouflaged by the snow. Nothing stirred in the woods behind me; I looked around, making sure that nothing was following me, before knocking on the wooden door again. I heard footsteps by the door, a faint whisper, the door opening slowly.
“Ah, young one, it is a pleasure to see you,” the mayor said, opening the door for me, a faint smile of his weary face.
“Likewise, mayor,” I replied, pushing him out of the way, and entering the house without asking for permission. “I believe that you know the reason for my visit.”
“No, please elaborate as to why you are here,” he snorted, closing the door behind me, twisting the lock on the knob.
He wore a light blue pajama, with a flap on the back, a sleeping cap, and socks above his slippers. Gazing down, he scratched left knee, exhaling deeply, the cotton ball attached to his sleeping cap falling over his face. And as he straightened up, his eyes upon me, I grabbed his collar, and slammed his body into the wall, knocking over a loose canvas.
“You know exactly why I am here, and if need be, I will smite you in front of these children,” I yelled, my hands moving towards his neck, and my anger soaring out of control. “Who are those monsters and why did they attack us?”
“Please, mister, leave him be,” the child, whose name I still did not know, cried, pulling me away from the frightened mayor. “It is not his fault, so please let him go.”
“I demand someone to give me an explanation; otherwise, I will throw a tantrum, and none of you will like me when I am angry.”
Countless eyes stared in my direction, the whole house growing silent; it was not my intention to threaten their lives, but these dark times required drastic measures.
“Sit down, please,” the Mayor sighed, standing up to his feet, fixing his collar slowly. “This will take a lot of time to explain, and I fear you might not like what you will hear.”
Looking around, ignoring everyone else, I sat down by a rocking chair, on the furthest side, placing the rifle by my side. The lady, whose fiancé had been maimed by the foul chimera, approached with a look of terror on her face, offering me some tea and a plate of biscuits. Shaking my head, I brushed her away, refusing her offer with a few hand gestures. She turned around, walking away to sit by the side of an older lady, a bit of tears on her face. She wiped them off with a grey handkerchief, avoiding my gaze, as a few kids approached her. The mayor tinkered with the wooden logs using a metal rod, glancing at me for a second, and proceeded to sit down, next to an older lady, wearing a white scarf, who seemed to be his wife.
“Start talking already,” I yelled, placing my right hand by the arm rest, tapping my right leg frequently. “I grow tiresome of these charades.”
“Alright, Rave, I will tell you everything,” the mayor said, his wife resting her head on his shoulder, a look of sadness on her face. “It all started fifteen years, with the appearance of a stranger, a man who we all grew up to fear. He first appeared out of nowhere, saying that his ship had crashed onto our planet, and we offered him food and shelter. He was wounded, incision scars on his arms and legs, and only wore a tattered red shirt and black pants. A week after his appearance, a few of the townspeople, specifically adolescents, began to disappear without a trace, to never be seen again. We panicked, searching the woods for them, but our search was in vain. And the disappearances kept increasing, the age range changing, and before we knew it, half of the people in our small town had vanished. We all began to dread, thinking they had been claimed by some unknown invincible foe, but no one ever suspected the stranger dwelling amongst us to be the one responsible. We kept going about our daily business, searching for the missing people on our days off, until one night—one very strange night. It was the first night a cloaked chimera appeared in our midst; it had been tortured, mutilated, and experimented on, and had a lot of mechanical gears on its back. The creature assaulted an older gentleman, who was on his way home, in the dreary night, beating half to death before it took off with him. A young man saw this disturbing scene, reported it to the local police, and led them towards the direction of the creature’s whereabouts. What I tell you, Rave, is no lie, but it is the untainted truth of the darkness that haunts this small town of ours.”
“So, what did you find, when you tracked the creature down?” I asked, shifting my weight around, as my curiosity was peaked. “What was it?”
“It was the stranger, the man who we had all grown to love, cutting off the flesh from one of his victims, a legion of his creatures behind him. He spotted us, and hollered at us to approach him, his face relaxed and emotionless. I gasped at the sight of blood on his hands, and I almost fainted when I looked down, recognizing the man he had killed. It was our previous constable, a dear friend of mine. He told us that he was building a powerful army, a chimera army to be exact, and that he wanted us to assist him with his goal, or we would all meet the same fate. At first, we tried to resist, but his forces were too powerful—and every attempt we made to take back our town all failed. So, eventually, we gave in to his demands, doing everything he told us to do, our hearts waiving with guilt and shame. Thousands of victims were shot out of space, a few of them dying from the crash, and we helped him capture the survivors for his horrific experiments. It was madness, I tell you, pure horrific madness. For the last fifteen years, we have kept this secret to ourselves, unable to contact for help from other regions of the planet, and things have only gotten worse.”
“I see,” I hummed, picking up my rifle, pressing my right fingers against the long, smooth barrel. “So that’s how it is.”
“Yes, Rave, and now that you have killed his henchmen, he will surely come for all of us,” the mayor added, picking up his cup of tea, his right hand shaking. “We should all prepare for the next days to be dreadful and filled with terror.”
“Who is this person you are all afraid of?” I asked, winding some air pressure into the gun, the muzzle facing the ceiling. “I would really like to meet him, if you don’t mind. And if I take care of this problem, will you lend me one of your ships?”
> “And what makes you think you have what it takes to face him?” a voice asked, causing me to shift my head left, to see a lady walk into the living room, from the kitchen. “Why should we trust you, after everything we heard the children say about you?”
I had met her in the pub, when I first arrived in this small town; she was the lady sitting by the corner seat. In her hands, she held another basket of warm biscuits, her cheeks pink and wet with sweat, and her hair wrapped inside a black cap. She wore a light green dress, with white poker dots on the edges, a metallic bandolier around her waist, and black boots that were high enough to cover her knees. And as she sat down, next to the mayor, she placed by the basket down by the table, and poured a cup of fresh tea from the teapot. Sipping slightly, she raised her head, looking at me, a serious look on her face.
“Milady, you only have to believe that I mean well,” I said, reassuring her of my true intentions, the gun on my lap. “I care not what you do after—all I ask for, in return of my expert services, is a ship to leave this planet. I have something important I need to do, and I am afraid time is not my ally.”
“But, young lad, this is a dangerous issue, and you might…..” the mayor interrupted, his hand extending out towards me.
Before he could irritate me any further, the door was kicked open, and in came a man dressed in a black uniform. He was a tall, dark skinned man, in his late 50s, with mutton chops on his face, a bit of grey hair on his chin. He held a strange rifle, like a late century musket, but with a black and gold barrel, a circular muzzle, and a magazine clip placed next to the trigger. Brushing off the snow on his uniform, he placed the gun by the door, patting some snow on his boots, before looking up. In a fine nod, he smiled at everyone, not ushering a word of greeting, and took a cautious glance through the window.
“Constable, what news do you bring, at such an hour?” the mayor asked, his face blue, and the cup in his hands shaking from his trembling. “Has something happened?”
“Yes, Mayor, I bring grave news,” the Constable, in a deep voice, replied, trudging towards an empty seat. “The east outpost has been overrun, I am afraid, by a legion of mutant chimeras. The reason for this retaliation, on their part, eludes dearly, which is why I am here.”
“Oh, dear,” the mayor exclaimed, placing the cup down, sweat pouring on his face, as his eyes avoided mine. “This is bad news indeed.”
“What has happened, Mayor?” the Constable continued, his hands pressed together, “has that madman finally decided to break the treaty he signed with us.”
“It is more complicated than that,” the mayor responded, standing up to his feet, and walking towards the window. “We might not want to admit this to ourselves, but we had always known that this day would arrive; there was no avoiding it on our part.”
“You want us to take arms against our kind?” the Constable roared, whisking up to his feet, both of his hands on his waist. “I mean, yes, they have been tortured and brainwashed beyond any reasonable belief, but some of them are still our brethren, our children, siblings, and relatives. We have to make amends with that madman or the blood he spills next will be on your hands.”
“I am well aware of that, Constable, but what will you have me do?” he spun back, his gaze fixated on the constable, all of his previous trembling gone. “Do you suggest that we keep shooting innocent travelers from space, capture them as before, and keep adding them to that man’s torture collection? What if it was your wife, your children, we were sending towards him?”
Upon those specific set of questions, words escaped the poor constable; he bit his lip, dropping his clenched hands below his waist, the strength in his resolved weakened.
“They are coming here, Mayor, whether you like it or not,” the Constable pointed out, turning around and walking towards the door. “You have less than an hour to make up your mind, or he will make it for you. As for me, I will be taking my leave now—I want to spend my next moments of life next to my wife and dear children.”
He picked up his musket, placed it behind his back, and opened the door, twisting his head around to look at everyone in the room, before shutting it from the outside. A powerful silence lingered through the small house; everyone was haunted by the constable’s last words, except for me, and they all took their refuge in the depths of their frightened minds.
“He is right,” the lady, in the light green dress, added in. “His chimera army will soon be on our door step and we are not prepared for a confrontation with them.”
“Physically, you can take them on,” I said, placing the gun against the wall, my eyes upon her. “The real reason for your doubt is because they are your kinsmen, your fellow neighbors, and citizens of this sick and twisted place you call a town. Wake up, you idiots, or you will all die. And, children, please forgive my tone; I would prefer that you leave this discussion for the grownups and vacate the quarters for bedtime, but I am afraid that is not an offer on the table.”
“So what would you have us do?” she asked, a look of fascination and intense curiosity on her face. “We have no weapons, no army, to defend ourselves with.”
“But you are chimeras for crying out loud,” I yelled, hoping my words would lift up their spirits. “You have the power to take arms against these abominations of nature—besides, I saw a barn full of weapons at Baron Smith’s manor, and there is enough artillery for everyone here.”
“Oh, that pompous hypocrite,” the mayor spat, veins popping on his neck, and smashed his frail fist against the wall. “All this time, all these years—he was encouraging us to aid that madman, telling us that there was no way to win against such a foe, and yet he was harboring contraband on his residence? He and I will have words when this situation dissolves itself.”