A self–proclaimed genius and master tactician, Grohad didn't take long to recognize where he was, once he woke from the transference. As soon as he did, he screamed in impotent rage. There was no escape from a digital prison that lacked walls to climb or dig under. There were no cells, no guards, no bars to keep him from moving around. There wasn't even any bad prison food.
Just the knowledge that he was locked in with no way of getting out until they decided he had sufficiently paid for his crimes. It was enough to fill him with unrelenting anger.
«I should've been executed," he grumbled for the thousandth time that day, «slain on the battlefield like a true warrior deserves. Not exiled to this … place!» He could feel his teeth grind in disgruntlement and even that incensed him, knowing he didn't actually have teeth to grind.
«I should've fought harder …» he began before stumbling to a halt, his eyes narrowing. What was that?
It looked like a floating piece of confetti, much like his loyal subjects threw during the parade that started his journey of conquest across the stars. Dancing this way and that as it twitched through the air some twenty metres distant as if propelled by the breeze. Except it was going against the wind.
That, by itself, was enough to earn Grohad's undivided attention, his frustration momentarily forgotten. That, in strange turn, caused the fleck of color and motion to abruptly double in size. 'That's … that's impossible,' he thought. Yet there it went again, doubling in size, almost as if him focusing on it gave it strength.
By this point the fleck was nearly as large as his head, a rectangular shape filled with shifting color and motion as it continued to float across the glade. Confused, Grohad tore his attention from the rectangle and took a quick look around him, half expecting to see other such shapes.
Instead he watched as the glade's perfect vista rippled as if struggling to stay coherent. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the ripple was gone, leaving only the rectangle as the only anomaly.
In that instant Grohad knew what he was looking at: a 'glitch', some random failure in the prison's programming. Since his prison was tuned to his senses, he was now literally seeing that glitch disrupt the fabric of his containment. A glitch that grew as he turned his will on it.
Renewed resolution flooding through him, he refocused on the rectangle. Immediately he felt it grow until he could feel the network beyond. 'Behold!' he silently exulted. 'My escape!'
Willing the rectangle even larger, he threw himself into it. Instantly his body disappeared, leaving only his essence behind. Yet he felt himself now moving through the system itself. 'Ha!' he thought, willing himself forward and leaving his prison far behind. 'Try to contain me now, you fools!'
The tech frowned as an alarm monitor flashed on his board. He then activated a screen and studied the resulting image for a moment before thumbing a comm switch.
«Doc, mind going in and giving Grohad another shot?» he asked. «His limbic system and frontal lobe are overly active.»
«He's dreaming of escaping again," the comm replied. «No escaping what he's got.»
Nodding, the tech looked back at the monitor where a face silently screamed back at him.
«True," he said, flipping the alarm off.
No escaping insanity and a broken mind!
Pixel was previously an honourable mention in Challenge 1 on the SciFi profile. Shawn (Bloodsword) is a prolific Wattpad Science Fiction and Fantasy writer, and you can find more of his works on his profile (see dedication).
Bobjan70 The Journal
I found a new journal today. This one shall not leave my side; I don't want to lose it like I did the last. Tomorrow I shall start anew on these fresh pages and continue to chronicle my struggle in this godforsaken place. But the light is fading and for now I shall hide it away.
I again survived the night and again I'm not sure whether to be thankful. I have enough food for several weeks now after finding my way into the collapsed market and I'm sure there will be more to be found. I will go back tomorrow.
They came again yesterday, atop a crumbling multi–story, not far from where I sat, breathless from my exertions from digging. A blinding flash and there they stood, in dazzling white suits. They didn't see me or didn't care. Either way, I was insignificant to them; a feral creature scrabbling in the rubble to prolong it's futile life. They never stay long, mere minutes, then always gone in the flare of pure white leaving nothing but the smell of burnt ozone. I don't know, it may be the lack of food or tainted drinking water, but I'm pretty sure I'm going mad.
I went back to try and retrieve more food today but the hole that had taken me days to clear had gone. The roof had fallen in. It would be futile to try and clear the debris again. I cried. But I have provision for now, many days worth, it will give me a time to look for more.
The loneliness is unbearable. I haven't seen another human being for months. Whereas before I would have hid, now I'm not so sure. After the last time, I swore never to reveal myself to anyone. I don't want to have to kill again.
Tomorrow I'll head down town, there may be something I missed before.
I was sick last night. It may've been the out of date food, or something else, I don't know. I don't have the luxury of being able to throw it away, and I don't know how long it will last, so I'll try it again later and see what happens. Don't have the energy to do anything today.
I'm feeling much better and last night's food stayed down. I'll change to my second water source, just to be sure.
Another flash today. I was closer this time and could see them more clearly. They look almost human, or it may have been my mind playing tricks, I can't tell any more. I think they're wearing some sort of Hazmat suit. Maybe they know something I don't; they know Earth is contaminated with whatever hit us, or maybe whatever they hit us with.
I didn't find any food.
I have found a new pen. Much has happened since I dropped my last one in the rubble, gone between the cracks, never to be seen again. With it, I have found a huge cache of provisions and barring any sickness or injury I will be fine for some time.
But that's not all. I think I have worked out a pattern for the flashes and sure I know where they, the aliens, will arrive next. It's the first time my university education has helped me since the disaster; Quantum Physics hasn't assisted much in my survival so far.
I plan to lay in wait, to try and see what they are. It may be dangerous but I don't care any more. I just want some answers, or an end to it all. Still, it's made me feel alive again; something that's been missing for so long.
They are human. I nearly ran to them when I saw but managed restraint. I needed to find out more before revealing myself.
They appeared exactly where I predicted, being so close I witnessed their arrival. Minutes before they came the air was alive with static, my greasy hair standing on end, goosebumps spreading over my body. As I watched, a small crack formed from nowhere, a fissure of incandescent light spilling out. A ragged rip suddenly split the air and the distorted forms stepped through. They are indeed in some kind of protective suit; a light, paper thin all–in–one, faces behind clear plastic visors.
There were five, always five; three men and two women of varying ages. The oldest seemed to be in charge, although no–one spoke. He pointed to different parts of the destroyed cityscape, and they nodded solemnly. I even think I saw one shed a tear.
It wasn't long before the light returned. They hurriedly stepped back through and for an instant appeared almost panicked, desperate to leave. Once through, like lightening the tear closed.