The world ended yesterday.
It all began with the new weather machine. The UN developed it in hopes of gaining control over the world’s weather and natural disasters. Their plan worked for a few hours, but backfired suddenly. The device short circuited and caused a massive storm to begin forming over the US.
The storm spread until it covered all but Antarctica and The Arctic Circle. Those who lived near or in those environments got out of trouble, but the rest of us were left to fend for ourselves.
The equator got the worst of the storm. Winds and unending rain ravaged islands and some sank. We lost almost all of Australia and Hawaii and Japan was destroyed by a massive tsunami.
Tornadoes ruined the inner plains and thunderstorms caused massive wildfires in Nevada and California.
This is my story, the story of how I survived the end of our world.
As I walked back home in the pouring rain from another night at the cemetery I felt a tingling sensation run up my spine. It seemed as though something had run it’s long, cold, scaly fingers across my back. Before I could speed up I felt the rain stop.
Peering up I spotted the underside of an old black umbrella. I turned to look at the Good Samaritan who had gave up their umbrella for me to not freeze in the downpour.
I spotted no one.
Turning quickly to continue on my way I see the man. He was tall, standing at a gargantuan stature to me. He was dressed in all black and his eyes, a pale shade of blue, bulged from his head. I almost thought he looked familiar. That’s when, with a luckily timed gust, his coat collar lifted and I saw the blue butterfly pin.
I knew I recognized the man. I had just buried him. He was the lasted of the deaths I have had to cover for.
Why he was standing in front of me I had no idea.
“Thank you for being so kind to me, even after death. You knew me not and yet you still took the time to clean my headstone and place a flower at it. This is the least I could have done. I have just one question though, why?” The man asked, his voice gravely, yet calming and secure.
A bit stunned I responded quickly, answering “it is my job to keep the condition of the grave grounds, it is only responsible that I keep them to such high standards.
“Well I and all the others here want to thank you. You will never have to worry about any of the annoying inconveniences of life again.” The man said, spreading his long arms wide.
I turned to look at about 100 other ghosts, or spirits, of whatever you want to call them. All were people I had recently worked on. Each gave me their thanks in different ways. Some helped Inc. the physical, some in the mental, and others helped me emotionally.
This is the last captains log of Jason Votaru
“Start log 996-4”
(Click from recorder)
“Jason Votaru, log 996-4, here we go.” “I am the captain of the ISS Operah.”
“I am also the last survivor of the Operah. As it turns out, one of our crew was actually a onlrer. Onlrer is an ancient race of aliens. They have tantalizing, blue eyes and fangs that are over eight inches long.”
“Day 887, ten days ago, he revealed himself. He killed Carlos the engineer.”
“Now he is looking for me. The last thing I can do is say this. Kiddo, if I don’t return, the mustangs yours.”
(Scratching and banging in background)
“Well hell, he found me!!”
(Door falls, growling from Onlrer) (Screaming, recorder clicks)
Space, from the surface here on earth it seems like a beautiful wondrous place full of new discoveries. Now, while that is true, space is also an incredibly dangerous place.
Space is an empty void, occasionally scattered with small star systems. It is dangerous to all of the folks who may go try to brave its horrendous grasp.
Black holes, neutron stars, massive amounts of radiation, and the lack of air. All pose known threats to anyone who may try to venture out of their local atmosphere.
There are also many threats that, as of now, are entirely theoretical. Alien civilizations, white hole ejections. These pose a great (possible) threat to cosmic adventurers.
