In A Universe Without Stars 1: Skyeater (4 page)

The
Hawaiian sun
sets over a beautiful coast, its radiance
melts into the dark blue sky. Somebody or something descends from the clouds.
Slowly it lands on the warm sands of the beach, the other beach-goers don’t
notice it. It’s Leif, a Serephin, an alien.

He
has oddly distinct human features, except that he’s seven feet tall, has sickly
green skin, a slightly horizontal shaped head, and two holes that bore out of
his face from where a human nose should’ve been. A scar runs diagonally across
his face with many claw marks on the left side. He wears dark silk robes.

Leif bends down and grabs a handful of sand.

It
begins here.

The
forging of the perfect.

The
sand in his hand glows white, a gust of wind whisks it into the sky. Each
individual grain glows like a firefly, disappearing into the air, as specks of
pure energy. Leif lets the sand trickle from his five fingered hand as he
stands.

A
Delta passenger airplane flies in the sky in the distance. Leif turns to his
side, lifts his arm and points at it in the shape of a gun. With a flick of his
thumb, the plane explodes into a million fiery pieces. Leif’s arm drops as he
watches the hell rain over him.

…

At
the White House, the president strides down a hallway with a sense of purpose.
The Secret Service and his personal secretary trot alongside him.

“The
meeting will begin when you arrive, Mr. President,” his secretary addresses
him.

The
president doesn’t answer, he can’t; too much is on his mind. The human race has
finally done it, they have finally received a message from the confines of
outer space,
however
it’s not a message of peace but
of a threat.

They
burst through the conference room doors. The room is filled with cameras and
computer screens on the conference room tables. All of the screens show the
world’s leaders, the Russians, the Chinese, the UK, the Iranians, all the big
ones. It took a threat like this to finally, hopefully, bring the world
together. When the threat is otherworldly, hostile nations around the globe are
finally up for talks of peace.

The
US’s most important figures are crammed in the room: the secretary of defense,
John York, rushes over to the President.

“Brief
me on the situation so far,” the president demands.

“All
of our defenses and counter protocols have been hacked, sir. We still have
access to our satellites, however, most of our computer systems have failed.”

York
places his hands on the table, sweat on his brow. “I’ve never seen anything
like this. They broke through everything in seconds!”

“How
can we be sure it’s not from Earth? Maybe it’s some kind of new Chinese
technology,” the president asks, his ignorance showing.

“Mr.
President, why would we agree to this meeting if it was our own people who
initiated the attack?” The Premier of China asks hostilely from one of the
screens. They’re never going to get anywhere if he himself doesn’t trust anyone
and open up, the president thought.

“My
apologies, Mr. Premier, just the process of elimination, we must eliminate all
possibilities, external and internal.”

York
whispers in the president’s ear. “Sir, computer systems of every first world
country have been hacked. Our intel shows that Russia and China have been
hacked as well.” The president just nods. York’s watch beeps.

“It’s
time,” he says. He turns on a projector that displays on the wall. The screen
simply says “Welcome.”

“The
unidentified threat sent a message saying that they will only relay their
statement to the world when all the major world leaders have come together, or
we risk total annihilation. I got the order from the vice president, sir, since
you were unavailable,” York says. “This is the best we can do in the time they
gave us.”

The
screen starts to count down like an old movie reel. “Welcome to your execution.”
shows up on the screen next.

“Welcome
to your execution humans,” a voice emits from the speakers.

Everyone
freezes and stares at the screen. The voice is deep and well-articulated, they
have no problem speaking our language. The message projects out of every
monitor in the White House. Somebody tries to unplug the speakers in the
conference room.

But
the voice continues. “The struggle for your planet will begin soon. You have
twelve hours to prepare. The rest of the world will not be as lucky.”

The
president looks to his secretary of defense. “Who and what are they and how do
we know the threat is real?”

 “This
is very real, just now you are doubting us,
others
didn’t heed our warning. Which didn’t make this little game of ours…last as
long as we would have liked.” There are audible gasps in the room, everybody is
taken aback.

“Did
they just—
“ the
president mumbles. It isn’t a two-way
link, his reply should’ve been impossible.

“So
we will leave you with a little present while you prepare.” A map shows up on
the screen, it zooms in on a theme park.

“Washington,
D.C., that will be the battlefield, we will give you two hours to move the
Earth’s forces there. After that… the rest of the world is on its own.” The
sound cuts out and the message ends. No one moves, they’re too stunned to
react.

They
are going to war.

“We
are now at war, we don’t know the enemy nor do we know their capabilities. But
we will be ready and we do know that they are prepared to wipe us out and we must
do the same,” the president says. He turns to the secretary of defense. “Move
us to Defcon 1.”

York
whispers to a few people and they run out of the room. A countdown appears over
the map on it, it counts down from twelve hours.

…

It
is night at Six Flags
Under
Texas. Noata stands in a
balloon darts stand. Noata is a 17 year-old shy-looking kid, he looks like he
can be a J-pop star, if not for his tacky neon yellow and brown uniform.

It’s
a slow night, people trickle past his game stand, trying to get in one last
ride before close.

His
gaze breaks through park goers as he stares at a beautiful girl across the
walkway. He doesn’t even know how he got a girl like her, a shy guy like him,
but he was lucky. It happened only one year ago today.

She
walks up to him and they kiss.

“When
do you get off?” She asks.

“In
two hours.”

“Aww
you’re going to miss my birthday.”

“Don’t
worry Lane.”

His
present to her last year was himself.
Who would’ve thought that would work
?
Noata’s supervisor walks up. “Hey Matt! Can I go to the restroom?”

Matt
nods. Noata jumps out of the game stand as Matt takes his place.

“Wait
here, Lane,” Noata tells her.

In
the restroom, Noata holds a small rectangular black box and opens it. There’s a
necklace in it. He hopes she will like it as he spent all summer saving up for
it, it’s not the best, and perhaps he has spent too long working for it.

Maybe
he’s going too fast. Maybe she won’t like it. Maybe this maybe that.
Butterflies swirl in his stomach. He can’t just stand there staring at it,
wondering if she’s going to like it. He’s going to find out sooner or later.

He
walks to the door but stops. He turns around and goes to a urinal. He lets out
a huge sigh as he relieves himself. He’s been holding it in for hours. It feels
better than sex.

 The
windows flash, the glasses shatters as a loud booming sound comes from the
outside. He tries to pull up his pants. Another boom! The boom happens again
and again.

“Hundreds
of screams pierce through the door as raving lights shine through the windows.

Then
everything stops.

And
then silence.

He
finally gets his pants up and runs out the door.

He
stops dead in his tracks. Blood pools around his shoes. It’s grim, every single
person outside is dead. Kids, adults, everyone. Their bodies splayed out across
the park grounds, screams frozen on their faces.

There’s
hundreds of them.

Noata
starts to shake.

What
happened?

Blood
oozes out of their orifices but there are no obvious entry or exit wounds, no
holes or marks at all. It’s as if they simply dropped dead were they stood,
bloody tears dripping from their eyes.

There’s
only the eerie sound of carnival music echoing through an ominously quiet park.
Rollercoasters still coast through its loops as dead occupants rag doll through
the twist and turns.

He
walks through the carnage, not knowing what to do.
Who do you call for this?
He sees a little girl and her mother on the ground, the mother on top of the
girl trying to protect her. The heartfelt gesture was useless. But then he
remembers.

“Lane!”

How
could he forget? He was too dumbfounded by the carnage. He runs down the
walkway, jumping over bodies, his track days finally paying off.

He
stops. Lane’s body lies in front of him. She’s not far from his stand. She tried
to run but she wasn’t fast enough. There are no visible marks on her body. Her
scream is frozen on her face. A face he’s never seen on her. Blood pours out
her body.

“No.”
Tears spills from his eyes. They fall on her lifeless corpse.

“No!”

It’s
all his fault. If he didn’t tell her to wait for him maybe she would’ve been
able to get away.
No
. It’s all his fault.

No!

He’s
not going to lie to himself, she would’ve been killed either way. But looking
at her body, that doesn’t make the revelation any better.

Sudden
screams are heard from behind him. The lucky few who were inside have finally
come out. A low booming sound is heard overhead. Noata just stands over Lane’s
body. Ignoring the sound, the love of his life is dead. It gets louder and
louder. He finally looks up as a light shines down on top of him.

Scattered
explosions
rock the night sky. Fireworks paint flowers in the stars. Thora lies upon Cole on
a towel on the busy beach. Cole is dressed in business casual clothes and Thora
is in a nice red dress.

“I
had a great time at dinner,” Cole says.

“Thanks,”
Thora replies.

“Maybe
I can try for president next or maybe…” He points up. “The world.” Cole has
been moving up the work ladder pretty fast lately.

He’s
just been promoted again and Thora treated him with a nice night. With his
money of course. But something feels slightly off. He looks at her, she seems
muddled.

“Hey
what’s wrong?” he asks.

Her
face twitches.

“Nothing,”
She says just a little too fast. He always thought her twitch was cute. She
always does it when a lot is on her mind, but he doesn’t like it tonight.

“Thora—
“

She
gets up.

“Hey!
You’re going to miss the main event!”

She
pulls him up.

Thora
stops at the edge of the pier. Cole stands next to her.

“I
like the view better from here. Sometimes you can see the stars,” Thora says
staring up. There’s something wrong with her and
it’s
bothering Cole.

“Thora…” 

“
Shh
—
“ she
says calmly. Cole leans
against the railing and watches as more and more fireworks go off, building up
to the big finish.

Thora
wraps her arms around him and leans her head against him. He does the same. He
wants to know what’s wrong with her and he plans to find out.

It’s
nighttime
at
Cole’s house; it has clean modern lines and angles made from an architect’s
dream, with a green crisp yard and a back lawn that overlooks downtown LA. A
beautiful sea of white fire lights up the horizon. It’s the true American
dream, but that dream now seems lost on Cole.

Inside
his bedroom, he sits alone on his bed in a button up and slacks.

Outside
his room, upscale party guests fill the work-in-progress kitchen and living
room to the walls. But the anxiety is finally getting the better of him. His
room is a mess, furniture overturned, smoldering holes in the walls. It’s like
a bomb went off. The once totalitarian room is now the exact opposite.

Cole
stares at his hands, he feels stronger than before. He squeezes them.

“The
more I use it—
“ He
trails off. His hands glow, he
becomes entranced in the light as he peers into the cobalt blue haze.

“The
stronger I—“

He’s
getting stronger a lot faster than he expected. It gets brighter and brighter,
illuminating the room.

There’s
a knock at the door. He powers down.

“Hey!
We can’t have a party without our guest of honor!” the guy yells.

Cole
looks down. He doesn’t have to do a damn thing anymore.
Not with this power
.
He takes off his watch and looks under it.
From a loving mother to a distant
son, I love you and you will always be a perfect son to me
. With this power
he’s not going to let it happen again. It’s his fault she’s gone, his mother.
So he just sits.

The
guy knocks again.
Wait, what is he thinking?
He sighs and closes his
hands.

What
is he going to do? Kill them?

Everybody
came here to see him, that should make him feel a little bit better, but sadly
it doesn’t. Maybe a little socializing will get him out of this rut but—

He
looks at his phone, five missed calls from Thora. He has to keep up
appearances.

“I’m
coming!” he yells.

Cole
goes through the door. The masses swarm around him, each offering their
congratulations and half felt tidings.

None
of this matters.

All
these people greet him just because he’s their boss now. He could just tell
everybody to go home so he could do it again.

Taste
the power.

When
he uses it, he feels lighter, his mind is at ease, he feels…different, calm.

Erin
walks up.

“Congrats
Cole.”

His
negative thoughts melts away as they hug.

“Thanks
for coming.”

He
smells her perfume, not on purpose, it’s just that she just lays it on thick.
She and Arnold are the only ones he really likes here or ever. Them, Thora and
Julio.

He
looks around but Julio is nowhere to be seen. He’s always fashionably late.
Maybe Cole should talk to Thora, but first he needs to get some inside
information from her
besty
.

“Have
you talked to Thora?”

“Hey!
Arnold wants to talk to you!” Erin changes the subject; Cole looks ahead.
Arnold is in the kitchen, loading up his plate, Cole looks back.

Erin
is gone.

Clever
.

He
sighs and goes over to Arnold. “Hey Arnold.”

“Oh,
hey, Cole! Congrats man!” Arnold replies.

“Thanks,
man.”

Arnold
loads on more food.

“Aren’t
you on a diet?”

“You
know that means you’re paying for lunch right?” Everybody is ignoring Cole
today it seems.

“I
just started man, I’m not even settled in yet,”

“I’m
just
sayin
.”

Cole
looks back, Erin talks to someone in the distance.

“Just
a second.” Cole heads toward Erin. She notices him. She heads the other way,
pushing her way through the crowd.

She’s
not going to avoid him in his own damn house.

“Hey
Erin—
“ Cole
tries to follow her. “Dammit Erin!”

There’s
a boom as the house shakes; Cole stops in his tracks.

 Then
there’s silence. The house is very still as everyone looks around.

“What
was that?” One of them asks.

Another
boom, they look out the window. Nothing. It’s clear.

“Everything
seems fine,” Arnold claims. The door slams and everyone jumps.

“Shit,
I thought I could sneak in,” Julio says as he walks in.

Fashionable
.

“Ugh,
Julio,” Erin says.

“You
didn’t hear anything Julio?” Cole asks. Julio shakes his head.

Everybody
ducks as another one goes off, it’s a lot louder this time.

“An
earthquake?” A guest asks.

“Turn
on the news!” Arnold yells. Cole gets the remote and turns on the television,
sound still ringing in his ears. He flips through the channels until he gets to
the Channel 5 news.

…

In
the busy streets of downtown LA in a news van, a New York news crew is on a
television screen. It shows reporters in the streets of New York City speaking
of giant decrepit stone angels that have appeared in the streets, blocking
traffic.

“What
the hell is that?” Carissa asks. She leans in the vans open doors, dressed in a
new dark grey suit dress. Her hair is puffed up.

Carissa
loves her job and would do anything for the story. She is the perfect image of an
Emmy award winning news reporter.

The
cameraman messes with the display, the time pops up: 8:55 PM.

“My
buddy sent me this from New York, New York,” The camera man says. He’s called
John, he has a Jersey accent even though he’s from Delaware.

“
Ergh
, turn that off and let’s go, I have a party to get
to.”

At
this party she might meet the potential love of her life, Julio. She’s
interested in meeting him just from the stories she’s heard. Her first night as
a reporter was a bust, nothing interesting happened. She thought something was
going down with such a large military presence in the city. But there is always
tomorrow.

There’s
a short, deafening screech as the sky flashes white like a lightning strike and
then goes dark again. The ground shakes, a crash is heard and then screams.

Carissa
looks out the van, they’re in the busy streets of downtown LA.

“What
the hell was that!?” John yells.

“A
story!”

A
cloud of smoke and dust willows out from a street only a block away. She runs
toward it with her mic in hand.

“Come
on!” She yells at John.

“Dammit
wait!” He shouts while setting up the streaming connection. After he sets it
up, he gets the camera and runs after her.

People
run out of the smoke, covered in dust, Carissa runs up to one of them.

“What
happened?”

 “It…It
came from the sky…my car, oh god my car!” He stutters walking off in a stupor.

“You
get that?” She hollers behind her.

John
is fumbling a phone and a camera at the same time, he’s on the phone with the
producers.

“Yes—yes—Okay
got it! Carissa we got two minutes, we need a headline!”

Carissa
suddenly rushes into the thicket.

“Carissa!”
John yells.

The
smoke starts to clear. In front of Carissa, a giant metallic two-story egg-like
structure towers over her. Its shadow obstructs the moonlight as it blocks the
street.

Oh
my god,
she
thinks.

This
is going to make her career.

…

The
smoke has cleared, John has the lights and camera ready. Carissa finishes her
lipstick and make up. Three police cars finally arrive.

“Hurry
the hell up woman!” John yells.

She
smacks her lips together. “Alright ready.”

The
structure behind her looks strangely threatening, there are no symbols on its
smooth aluminum-like finish.

“We’ll
be live in five-four-three-two—“, he signals.

“Welcome
to Channel 5 Action News, this is Carissa Quoin and we’re the first with a
breaking news story!”
Perfect, but use a little less enthusiasm, this will
make or break you
.

As
she stands in front of the alien structure, John gets both her and the object.
The police start to barricade off the object, but Carissa doesn’t move.

“Approximately
three minutes ago, this quiet downtown neighborhood just had its history
changed forever, when this sphere fell from the sky and crushed an unknown
number of cars under it,” she reports. “The police have barricaded off the area
and have begun questioning witnesses, I believe they are as in the dark as much
as we are. But we will be here all night and will return with eyewitness testimonies.”
Good, kind of stilted and short but good.

“This
is
Cari
—“

She’s
cut short when the sky flashes again with a piercing screech, screams echo in
the distance. The sky flashes again and again as more screams ring out. The
flashes stop and the sky glows a deep red.

It’s
the color of her lipstick, the color of blood. It paints the skyscrapers as if
they were drenched in blood, everything loses its color.

The
structure starts to shake.

“Hey
Carissa! Fuck the story we have to get the hell out of here!” John yells. But
he still records despite himself, the cameraman inside him betrays his
instincts.

“What’s
happening?” Carissa asks herself. She wants to run but she can’t. She’s never
felt fear like this. She visibly shakes. The structure starts to move. John
steps back, camera still pointing.

Carissa’s
heart beats fast, her chest heaving up and down. The middle of the structure
splits open, sliced down the middle like a hot knife to a melon and a white
light shines out as it fully opens.

A
two-story tall, brown-skinned humanoid walks out, it is shaped like a human
with a lean muscular body, a slightly horizontal shaped head and two holes for
a nose. It wears gray tights covering from its thighs to its chest and has a
metal neck and arm brace.

It’s
called a Grunt, the basic soldiers of the Serephin army, the lowest class
units.

Everybody
stares at it, only a few people start to run. It creeps toward Carissa and
bends over and studies her.

“Carissa,”
John whispers, still capturing the moment.

Carissa’s
frozen in fear, trembling, pissing herself. Tonight was supposed to be a good
night. It wraps its over-sized hands around her and lifts her up.

“Carissa!”
John yells. The grunt sniffs her.

Carissa
could’ve been something big, head reporter, anchorwoman, hell she could’ve even
been a respected White House reporter. The grunt bites into her and rips off
her top half.

If
today wasn’t the end of the world.

John
screams, dropping the camera as he runs. The police fires at it, the bullets
bounce off its skin. It swings down and sends them flying in the air. The
camera points toward the sky as the grunt lets out a thunderous roar.

The
sky turns white again, hundreds of spheres and spaceships descend onto the
city.

A
war cry.

The
bloodbath has begun.

…

At
Cole’s party, everybody screams as they watch the news. But Erin’s scream is
the loudest, the blood drains out of her face. She just watched her sister get
ripped apart on live television.

Julio
runs to the window and looks outside.

“It’s
real!!”

Outside,
downtown gets annihilated. Thousands of ships descend onto the city, like
locusts to a meal.

“My
baby!” Erin screams, Thora is close to downtown. The party guests run for the
door. Cole runs for the backyard.

“Wait,
Cole!” Arnold yells. Arnold, Erin, and Julio frantically run after him.

Outside,
Cole looks out to the city. The sky is dark again, the ships, Peons, have
already destroyed downtown, believable, seeing how there are thousands of them.
Why did he run out here? The black metallic cloud expands out, coming toward
him.

Peons,
the bulk of the Serephin fleet, small compared to their other ships but twice
as big as an F-15. It’s black ant like head and oval shaped body swarm enemies
in the thousands, overwhelming and suppressing them by the numbers. Sadly for
us, a single one of them can take on Earth’s best fighters.