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Post by lazybug on Jan 30, 2013 2:00:19 GMT -5
I was very reluctant to put this up because of the dark tone this story has . . .so it will be a bit of a PG-13 (don't worry, nothing inappropriate). The story will be in parts instead of chapters because of their shortness, and will take a while to do each part. Also it's freakishly wordy.
Warning: this part contains some blood and death.
Part 1
The smell of burned flesh wreaked the air, gagging at the mere taste of it when she accidentally opened her mouth to gasp for air. Sounds of flames and metal creaking filled her ears and slowly opened her eyes. What was left of the seven forty seven plane was now nothing but shreds and crinkles of scrap metal that littered the dark landscape. Her eyes watering from the stench couldn’t register in her mind of the sight before her. Grasping the seat that pinned her to the wall, she pushed with all her might against the seat until it gave and slide enough to release her, then stumbled down the hallway of the plane . . . or . . . what was left of it. She felt something warm run down the top and side of her head and raise a hand to touch it; blood. Human blood covered her head and groped for the gash, expecting to feel pain but there was none.
Drip . . . Drip . . . Drip. . .
She looked up to the source, only to fall on her rear and scream the hoarsest scream that she could muster from her dried lungs. Right above her hang a dead body of a man, with a large gash across his face from his forehead down to his chin, and blood dripped from his head in large droplets on to her face. Quickly she scrambled from the cracked floor and bolted from the body, trying her best to wipe the blood off her face. But she couldn’t run far though, wires and oxygen masks dangled in her way, entangling her like a spider web and she screamed even more from her entrapment. The girl ripped free from the wires, and crawled over burned seats which some had charred bodies still sitting in them. Everything was dark except for the flames burning the fuel and hot metal here and there, but she didn’t care, she had to get out this nightmare, she had to wake up!
A dull light poured from the open front which no longer held the other half of the plane, and lurched to it. The air didn’t reek outside as much as before but it was enough tell her it was still real. Hot tears blinded her as she walked unsteadily as far from the plane as she could. But when she looked back, it was enough for the girl to drop on her hands and knees and throw up.
Glowing against the pitch black background of the eerie night, the plane was engulfed in flames in certain areas. Seats, bodies, some strapped to the seats, a few luggage, glass from the windows, and scrap of flaming metal scattered across the rocky landscape around the main body of the plane. The plane looked as if a child had ripped it in half, with the frame work and wires hanging like ribbons off the edges where it torn. But strangely she couldn’t see where the front half of the plane went. She looked to her right and could only see the tail end laying on a tilt, and the mini wings on side that steer it were partially ripped. No one was walking around, not a sound of agony of someone calling for help was heard in the wind, and not even a moan or a single movement came from any of the bodies that laid still. The sound of burning fuel and falling metal only proved she was the only survivor.
“Hello?!!! Is anyone alive out there?!!!”
Nothing.
“Somebody! Anybody!! SAY SOMETHING!!!PLEEEAAASEEE!!!”
Silence only greeted her and a slow calm wind blew into her face, ruffling her sandy brown hair in the breeze. . .
Every bone in her body shook with shock, gasping for breath became too difficult as it was as her eyes scanned the whole perimeter, taking in every detail of the horror before her. She clasped her face, soaking them in tears, and wailed at the sky until all the air was emptied from her body and then wailed again and again. She couldn’t remember how long she did it, but by that time her lungs and throat were dry.
She was alone. . .
She was truly alone. . .
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Post by lazybug on Jan 30, 2013 2:11:04 GMT -5
Part 2
She sat there for as long she could remember. Flash backs from the past flew across her mind to memories happy and full of joy, or regretful and sadness. Her heart ached for those times, good or bad, as long as she wasn’t here, sitting on this rocky hill staring at the wasteland that stretched for miles on end.
The girl had turned her back from the crash site, to hopefully erase the destruction that etched into her mind. The wind had fortunately changed course so the stench of charred bodies were downwind from her, so as not to be reminded where she really was and what had happened.
But what did happen? She thought to herself. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last moments before or during the crash. Pounding her head with her fist, she tried to remember something; anything as to know what happened before everything came crashing down on her in one night.
Panic rose in her chest again and scrapped every fiber in her mind to try and remember. Why couldn’t she? She didn’t understand any of it. She checked herself for any head trauma or bodily injuries. But strangely even to herself, she only had minor cuts and bruises and a headache the size of Texas she wished had Advil for.
“I might’ve just hit my head, that could be it.” She reasoned. But it didn’t sound comforting that she’s a sole survivor and alone in a strange land.
With a sigh she looked out across the dark scenery. It looked like something pulled out of a science fiction artwork and brought to life in the most unimaginable possibility to produce on Earth. Dawn broke in the horizon, but the dark clouds that covered the sky obscured most of the light, creating a mixer of gray and warm orange-red beams of light to bathe the clouds in. To her left she saw a massive mountain range jutting out of the ground, like sharp points on a crown, and stretching far and wide through the land full of boulders and sharp rocks. As the sun rose higher behind the clouds, she could have sworn she saw what looked like a turquoise colored moon through a small hole in the clouds. It had seemed that the longer she stared at those mountains, the more she became aware that she maybe no longer on Earth after all.
Her eyes watered again. The thought struck her hard, to the point she just wanted to curl up into a ball and die. Then at least she could join with the others on the other side that were no longer here to be in eternal peace and joy with them. But no . . . She was here now, alone on an alien world with nothing but her thoughts and the clothes on her back. If she was going to die alone, she might as well die doing something than just sulking around. Finally, the girl rose from her perch on the flat rock and turned her head to the crash site. A foreign strength unknown to her builds up within her, a calming feeling slowly warming her spirit as if to say it will be alright.
And she prayed that it had better be true.
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Post by lazybug on Jan 30, 2013 20:27:45 GMT -5
Part 3Taking a deep breath, she grabbed hold of the remaining passenger, who was gently wrapped in a sheet she found in a compartment of the plane. Luckily the temperature was cold enough not to decompose the bodies yet, otherwise the job would have been much more difficult to accomplish without fainting. Tightening her grip around the sheet near the feet, she tiredly dragged the passenger to the shallow grave she dug nearby. It was the only area that wasn’t solid rock, and felt it would be more dignified if she gave the dead a proper burial. She pushed with a huff the passenger over the lip of the grave, until tumbling down to meet the other sheet covered passengers that rested at the bottom. Panting a few times, she staggered a little before looking down at the small bag near her feet. They were the wallets and ID cards of the many passengers she could find that carried them. Those she couldn’t find the girl kneeled down and prayed for them, before dragging them to the grave site. She held in her hand a King James Bible she had found by the seat she remembered sitting, which in her heart she was glad to find. Opening the front cover of the Bible, she saw what she was looking for and a small smile appeared on her face . . . On the very first page, in beautiful cursive, her name was written with a smiley face drawn next to it. To: Mecallia J. Swanson
From: Jessie Hudson
PS: may it bring joy and light into your life as it has in mine.
Love, J. “Thank you, Jessie.” She said softly and gently closed the cover. Mecallia gingerly picked up her piece of metal which was makeshift into a shovel and shoved it into the dirt, depositing it over the rested in the grave. It took some time but she finally dumped the last pile of dirt over the grave. By the end of the morning, Mecallia placed the last stone on top of the grave. Behind the stone pile were about twenty or so crosses erected, each one with an inscription of several names to remember them by. The dead that she couldn’t extract from the wreck; whether they were pinned or dismembered, she laid clothes or sheets over them. Her mind wheeled with dizziness. It was still too much for her to understand any of this, and the bleak gray landscape wasn’t making it any better for her. But Mecallia still had other things to do before contemplating over it, and began her walk along the expansion of the tail end of the plane. The luggage, big or small, scattered everywhere from the impact which took some time to collect and stack them in one place. A sound of rumbling thunder was heard in the dark clouds, and water droplets quietly pelted the wreckage around her, slowly dampening her dirty light brown hair and clothes as she analyzed the suitcases. One by one, Mecallia rummaged through them, setting aside clothes that would fit her and necessities she would need. Once in awhile she found pictures of family and friends in a suitcase and had thought about her family back home, and wondered how they were faring in her disappearance, and then she gently placed them back and zipped it up again. One suitcase was interesting; it held a collection of knives of different shapes and sizes for certain purposes. She figured they will be useful and set them aside and kept rummaging through. Eventually she found her own bag that contained her camouflage suits, which was supposed to be a Birthday gift to her brothers. But then a smile stretched on her lips as something else of great importance revealed itself to her. Lying innocently on top of her clothes in a wooden case was a dark brown Clark tin whistle. Mecallia picked it up with care and examined every inch of it for damages or scratches on it, but surprisingly she found none. She sighed with mixture of relief and worry. A strange sensation went through her body as she pulled on the zipper of another suitcase. She looked up and scanned the area around her, as if expecting for someone to be there. Just the sound of soft rain falling filled her ears, so with a shrug Mecallia turned back to opening the suitcase again. . . . . . . . There it was again! Mecallia jerked her head up and looked around. “What is that?” She asked to no one in particular. It was a faint sound, barely above a whisper, but yet she heard it as if someone had snuck up from behind and whispered it into her ear. The tingle sensation commenced again and she felt herself rise from her knees without realizing it. She listened carefully for the sound. Was that singing? No. . . . It was the combination of singing and a calling. Mecallia’s eyes narrowed and shrugged it off, believing it was insanity trying to surface before the day even ended. By the end of day, Mecallia had successfully made a shelter a ways from the wreckage, just behind a group of large over hang boulders that made ideal shelter from the wind and rain. She tucked her pillow and blankets around her, and laid down on the hard rocky floor, clutching the case with the tin whistle in it to her chest. A deep feeling of survivor’s guilt had crept into her soul, and a few tears fell down her dirty cheeks. The sun descended behind the alien horizon, and she stared at it with ever constant questions graining into her head for answers for them. Why her? Why did she survive and no one else did? She saw the deadly result of the wreckage, but why was she spared from it with barely a scratch? They repeated in her head over and over until her mind finally drifted into the deep depths of sleep.
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Post by lazybug on Feb 1, 2013 18:23:20 GMT -5
Warning for the weird dream sequence.
Part 4
It wasn’t much of a comforting sleep at all, not by the very least. Mecallia was in a semi-dark room, sitting in her seat next to a man whose face was concealed by the darkness around them. The people in the room were expressionless, motionless, sitting at attention like mannequins in a store with soulless eyes boring into the wall in front of them. A strange light caught her interest to her left. The light at first was dim in a warming orange glow . . . the room shook violently and the front wall of the room ripped open. A mixer of flames and cosmic energy ruptured into the room, consuming the people that sat motionless in their seats as if it were an everyday occurrence. She screamed right before dust like particles entered her mouth and filled up her lungs, preventing any other sound to escape from her. Mecallia in horror watched the people in their seats burn until they turned into ash and disintegrate as a swirling cloud of dust. The flames crept along the ceiling and walls, coming closer to her with each passing second. She tried to rise but a stiff hand from the man next to her snatched her arm. Looking over, her eyes widened, trying to scream despite the dust in her lungs. It was the same man from before . . . the gash across his face visible from the light of the approaching flames.
A scream sounded and the flames surrounded her on all sides . . .
The high pitch scream echoed throughout the morning alien landscape, and the figure resting beneath the overhang boulder jerked upright. Mecallia kept screaming until she opened her eyes to see she wasn’t on the plane anymore, but quickly looked around to be sure it wasn’t still a dream. She pinched herself, hard . . . It was real alright.
The sun rose in the horizon, about to disappear behind the dark clouds just as before. Mecallia stared for a moment at the only source of comfort the sun offered in this barren land, before rising to her feet and stretching out the aches and stiffness the rocky ground had provided for her as a bed. Emerging out of the overhang, she planned her next move of what to do. The land of rocks and boulders stretched out far as the eyes could see, but if she could just find higher ground she would have a better idea of what country she maybe in. With that in mind, Mecallia scanned the land again for a good ground point. She noticed a little ways from the wreckage on the other side of the tail that the hills rose higher, and began to walk there. But then she realized the hill was steeper than anticipated, but still pressed on regardless, with the curiosity etching in her brain and also the knowing that this was a good distraction from her traumatic experience.
The clouds above gave a low rumble, threatening to pour rain down again and wet the rocks to make her journey more difficult. But to her luck they didn’t and made to the top in no time, stumbling a few times but quickly regaining her balance.
What she found wasn’t what she expected.
“What the . . .” She gasped.
At the bottom a wide valley, in a light fog were littered with ships big and small. From a small wooden canoe to the largest sailing ships, Mecallia stood in awe at the great number of them. Some seemed to still be in good shape to use again, while others were in ruin and beyond repair. Slowly making her way down the hill, Mecallia cautiously walked up to a wooden long ship. She recognized it as a Viking ship, the head on the bow shaped like a dragon head, and the oars and mass still stood despite its weathered down appearance. Narrowing her eyes, Mecallia looked to the next closest ship. It was a Chinese ship from the looks of the bamboo sails still hanging on the mass. Then the next one, a European ship with tattered sails perhaps from the seventeen hundreds. The rest were mainly long boats of different countries. Some Egyptian, others Greek, but few she couldn’t decide because of lack of design or emblem. But then she noticed some were more recent, such as a few fishing ships with their nets hanging on the side, ready to be lowered to catch fish that no longer exist.
Mecallia walked through the graveyard of boats, ships, and as she walked deeper into the valley, she saw a few fighter planes from World War II that scattered here and there, with skeletons of pilots still resting in the cot pit.
“Where on Earth am I?!” She asked herself, as if she would somehow miraculously have the answer. Curving her hands around her mouth, she yelled into the fog, “HELLO?!!! IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?!!!”
Only the cold wind blowing against the tattered sails answered her call. She eyes burned with tears, threatening to fall, but she blinked them away. This is no time to cry. Not yet. But Mecallia couldn’t help it; she is all alone in this world with only remnants to remember her past life in another.
She pressed on through the ship graveyard, but kept the hill she came down from in her sight so she could find the way back to her shelter. Every now and then she collected items that littered the ground or from a gutted ship that could be useful. At one time she found a well conditioned katana still in its velvet lined case, with beautiful designs on the handle and the blade itself. Mecallia loved swords, but unfortunately never had the chance to learn how to wield one. Many of the weapons and armor she collected she placed in a pile to carry back with her. And when it seemed like it was getting dark, Mecallia carried what she could in a large fur bag and returned to the shelter.
The overhang she stayed under was big enough for five people to sleep under comfortably, and placed the items and her decorated katana to one side. As Mecallia sat down, she looked over to the little case next to her sleeping mat. The evening sun’s rays glared radiantly across the polished wood surface. Perhaps a small tune wouldn’t hurt, she thought and opened up the case to reveal the brilliant dark brown whistle inside. The silence other than the occasional rumbling of the overcast clouds did nothing to comfort her other than to make life drearier. Checking one more time for any imperfections, Mecallia raised the whistle to her lips and exhaled.
A high, yet, sweet sound flowed out of the whistle. Flowing like rose petals in the breeze to travel throughout the land for the all the gloomy world to hear its beautiful voice. It did not matter what tune she played, for as long it stilled the silence and fill it instead with joy and love. She let her fingers manipulate the six little holes until she couldn’t breathe anymore, and let the music slowly fade off into the air. It felt good to have something you love for once. And as the sun set, she made a small meal with perishable food from the carts on the plane, and then made herself comfortable again for the second night on this alien world.
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Post by natalie on Feb 5, 2013 2:05:31 GMT -5
Awesome story !! I'm hooked .
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Post by lazybug on Feb 5, 2013 23:32:15 GMT -5
Really?! I was so worried for a while because of the very beginning scene.
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Post by lazybug on Feb 5, 2013 23:40:01 GMT -5
Part 5
“. . . Come on, you stupid piece of crap . . . Come out!”
But alas, it would not. No matter how much she pulled on it, it refused budge. With a groan she let go, and stood before it with a glare that she hoped imaginatively would it set free. The Viking battle axe, true to its name, was wedged deep into the rotten wood on the side of one of the long ships. After a minute of her glare down at the stubborn weapon, Mecallia clutched the handle once more. With all her might she weighed her body on top of the handle in order to push down, then placed her shoulders underneath it and tried pushing up. She repeated this a few more times until she heard a small familiar crack! in the wood. Then with one last push downward, the axe released itself from its prison.
“GAH!!!” Mecallia yelped as both she and the axe fell to the ground with a thud, dirt particles and mold flying everywhere out of the rotten wood. After stand up and brushing the dirt off her jeans, she picked up the handle and did her best to drag the axe to her growing pile at the base of the hill.
“How the crap do these guys swing this thing without pulling an arm off in the process?” she asked in thought. But of course, these were Vikings she was talking about. It felt like she was dragging a splitting maul that was three times its weight. She didn’t get even halfway to her pile, which was a good half a football field away, before dropping the handle and plopping herself on top of a large rock that poked out of an English sail ship. She was surprised what she could find out here, it was like an archeologist’s version of heaven. Weapons, armor, pottery, jewelry, clothes, more dead people, spices (but preferred not to risk food poisoning). . . . You name it, it was here.
Mecallia sighed heavily, her mouth feeling parched for water that she had so little of in the first place. She had been surviving for five days now. The little food and water she had rationed from the plane has now dwindled to what she estimated a day or two now, if she counted the rations from the luggage’s as well. She didn’t even want to think about. It was bad enough surviving alone without going crazy, but to die slowly and painfully? Suicide seemed an option, but even then Mecallia couldn’t bring herself to do such an act. It felt cowardly . . . Dishonorable. If she was not meant to die in that plane, then for what purpose then? The thoughts swam around her head causing her head ache to such an extent, pressing her hands on both sides of her hand to ease the pressure.
When the pressure finally left her, she let go of her head and looked up the lifeless ships littered around her. Her mind was so clouded as the fog around her, that didn’t she see at first the strange shape that moved between the ships several yards away from her spot.
Mecallia could have sworn her heart stopped for two seconds, her lunges refusing to inhale to form a gasp at what just happened before her. She froze in her spot, not moving a muscle, until the movement caught the corner of her eye to her left. A gasp escaped her lips and quickly unsheathed the decorated katana from her belt, holding it in front of her like a samurai. She eyed the area around her, keeping the sail ship behind her in case of an attack from behind.
A minute passed . . . Then two . . . Then three . . . But still no sign of it.
Did she just imagine it? She didn’t want to know. Keeping a firm grip on the katana, Mecallia side stepped a few paces, before turning on a heel and walked briskly out of the ship yard and over the hill. She grabbed whatever items she had in a pile into her arms and looked back every ten seconds to make sure nothing was following her, if there was anything there in the first place.
Her heart finally slowed down as she neared the only place she was familiar with in this alien terrain. But it also brought mixed emotions. She was happy see it but at the same time dread it. Mecallia could still see the sheet covered bodies in and around the plane, and with the air still cold she still couldn’t smell any evidence of decomposition. Her body shivered at the thought and immediately stumbled down to her man-made path to her rock over hang she now called home. It was set up just over another hill behind two giant boulders that towered into points, leaving it out of view of the plane and the carnage behind it.
Mecallia sighed as she bent almost halfway into the overhang and plopped onto her back on the mattresses that bunked up against the rock wall. The clouds outside rumbled but luckily no rain had fallen since day two. As her eyes stared at the ceiling, her hand fumbled around her side to pick up a photograph of her family and raised it in front of her. Hot tears threaten to blur the image of the family she may never see again, their smiling faces glowing in eagerness for her to return home and share her stories of her adventures. But Mecallia will never get that chance, and with a final glance she set it down and turned onto her side to face the rock landscape, with only her sobs echoing in the air.
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Post by lazybug on Feb 6, 2013 0:07:54 GMT -5
Warning for the dream sequence again.
Part 6
Darkness had long blanketed the rocky landscape, deprived of sound of any sort.
The only sound heard was the groaning anxiety under the rock overhang. The figure laid on her make shift sleeping mat, tossing her head from side to side with beats of sweat dripping from her brow.
That dream . . . that wretched dream plagued the deep depths of her mind. The expressionless people just sitting there, waiting in their seats for death to claim them without a fuss. Mecallia stood to run before it came, but the man next to her grabbed her arm again in an iron grip, the gash on his face dripping with blood down his face and onto his white button shirt. She tried to scream for help, but was caught in her throat as if someone was choking her. Flames and energy busted through the plane, ripping it in half and consuming everything in sight. Mecallia stared in horror and jerked her arm violently, but the dead man’s grip stayed firm. And before the flames consumed her as well, she saw the man’s lips move to form a word, but she couldn’t understand it and screamed as the flames reached her. . .
The figure jerked into a sitting position and screamed into the cold night air, panting heavily when she realized she was in the real world again. Her lips quivered as she wrapped her arms around her body and began to rock back and forth, crying to herself.
“Y-your ok . . . Your o-ok . . . Your ok . . .” Mecallia whispered over and over. The sun had finally peaked in the horizon to bath the girl in a warm orange glow. Once her breath slowed, Mecallia calm down a little more to see the welcoming sun rise and then noticed as she looked up at the sky that the dark rain clouds were scarcer. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight, having to no longer see the gloomy clouds as much as before. Despite that the sun had raised, clusters of alien constitution stars shined faintly, and now with the clouds gone she saw the beautiful turquoise moon which had small rings around it at an angle.
Yawning, Mecallia rose from her bed and stretched, ready to tackle another day of what was needed to be done. The landscape only greeted her with more dark black and gray rocks when emerging from the rock over hang. Her eyes lazily scan the surrounding area since there was nothing else to see other than rocks . . .
“Huh?”
She stopped abruptly . . . Then she retraced her inspection of the land until whatever caught her eye was in front of her again. Mecallia squinted at the phenomena. Near the base of the crowned mountain ranges a strange object glowed. The longer she squinted, the bigger the object glowed and more detail around it began to form, producing more glowing objects to flicker to life. From what Mecallia could make out were tall structures, perhaps buildings, towering high amongst the massive rocks around it, almost blending in with them. She couldn’t believe it at first. Is there a civilization out here after all? Others have been here before her, so there had to be other survivors as well.
A tingle sensation shivered up her body when she heard it . . . The strange eerie song that came out of nowhere. It rode on the wind like a ghost that blew around her, multiple voices singing it at the same time and never stopping either. Who’s singing it? She closed her eyes for a moment to see if she could pinpoint its original location. It was coming from her left side, the same direction as the strange structures she saw. Her heart leaped for joy at the thought. People like her living on a strange planet, adapting to survive and live a new life given to them.
Mecallia wasted no time to contemplate her options. She gathered whatever was needed for the short journey, figuring from the distance the buildings were would probably take up half a day without breaks. Food from the plane, a water bottle, first aid kit, and a light blanket was stuffed into her backpack and zipped it shut. For extra precaution, if she encountered danger of any sort, Mecallia strapped on some light weight, but badly weathered leather armor that were the smallest she could find. It took her a while to figure out how to put it on and was surprised it was slightly heavier than she thought too. Finally, she placed on her head an aviator’s leather hat with large goggles on top, and the decorated katana in its sheath tied to her side as the final touch. If Mecallia could only find a mirror to look at herself with, she’d probably agree with herself that she looked ridiculous. But she was on a mission; she didn’t have time to look presentable if there was, in fact, a civilization just within her reach.
Mecallia took one last glance back to her temporary home, positioning the backpack over her shoulders. She would be back later to collect more of the things if need to be, but for now she needed to travel light while the day was still young to get there quicker. So, without looking back, Mecallia began her hike across the alien landscape.
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Post by xnekoxmika on Feb 7, 2013 19:54:50 GMT -5
I'm wondering where Ch.7 is and when Mecallia will be told why she's on this alien planet
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Post by lazybug on Feb 7, 2013 21:17:10 GMT -5
Part 7 will be up tonight.
And when will she be told?. . . probably never. . . because it really isn't about why she's there, but about how did she get there in the first place. (hence half the plane missing and the ship yard.)
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Post by lazybug on Feb 7, 2013 21:33:33 GMT -5
Part 7
Just when she thought the day would be sunny, the clouds again covered the sun’s comforting light and brought back the dreary atmosphere, but only once in a while did it let the sun through as if to tease her. She sighed as she weaved to and fro around the large boulders that were as big as her, and turned back once in a while to make sure the tail of the plane was still barely visible. The sun was kept to her side and eyed a few key land marks along the way in case she felt she was lost and could find a way back to the plane.
Mecallia glanced at her watch . . . Ten thirty. She had been walking for over an hour now, but she noticed she had made progress to the buildings a lot faster than she thought. She just hoped they would accept her and not let her die alone out in this barren land.
Mecallia was set and ready to move again when something caught her eye. Something strange stuck out from behind one of the giant rock structures that were three times taller than her. Cautiously, she walked around the stone wall and poked her head around the corner. Her eyes widened at the scale of it . . . It was as tall as a radio tower but three times its width, and appeared to be physically attached to the stone wall. Mecallia walked around it, trying to figure out what it could be used for since there was no door around the base or windows above. But as she looked further up, almost bending her entire upper body without falling backward to see, she noticed strange lights flickering at the top of the tower. Mecallia stared at it for a few more moments, deciding it must be a type of watch tower for the town, and proceeded onward.
The rocks and boulders became smaller and smaller now as she got closer to the buildings. It felt like she was walking for hours, but when glancing down at her watch again she noticed it had only been another hour since she left the strange tower behind. Mecallia breathed a heavy sigh and looked up to see a vast space between her and a line of boulders ahead and marched on forward. The dark clouds above her rumbled to threaten to let the rain fall, but as the clouds rumbled, so did a new sound float across the flat rock space.
Voices . . .
They were faint, but it was without a doubt what she heard. Her heart wanted to leap for joy at that very second. Smiling big and a sigh of relief escaping her lips at the same time, she jogged in the direction of the sound, forgetting about her body aching to rest. Mecallia quickly jogged to the other side of the open space and into the line of boulders. She was half glad to see the rocks bigger than her so she could observe and hide at time if things weren’t what she expected. The voices became louder and louder. The closer she got the stealthier and quiet she became and slowed her pace.
There were multiple voices, she noticed, but what made her more confused was they didn’t sound very friendly. They spoke in a foreign language, mostly made of either grunts or sounds as if sand paper was in someone’s throat as they spoke. She finally stopped at a distance she knew they couldn’t see her, yet at the same time she could hear them clearly. Ever so slowly, Mecallia peered between two giant boulders which leaned against each other. Her eyebrows crumpled. Where were they!? She can still hear the voices but there was nobody on the other side to identify it with.
A booming resembling a shout erupted, followed by another noise and then the ground shook violently underneath her feet. Meccallia tried to keep her balance, but lost it at the last minute and fell on her butt with a light thud. She groaned in pain from landing on the hard ground beneath her, but then her head shot up when another booming shout echoed in the air.
“Ben’ja dos veel! Kat erra sout owt vaust!” The voice shouted. Why in the world were they so loud? Since the language was foreign to her, trying to tell them she was friendly was out the question. As she got up and brushed off any stray pebbles that stuck to her bottom, Mecallia listened to the constant voices and headed for them, still keeping low and hidden as she went.
By now she can see the large buildings more clearly, but instead of having a friendly appearance, it was dark and gloomy, even to the point Mecallia began feel something wasn’t right about it as she walked closer. The voices had become so loud now that she had to cover her ears because of the constant shouting. When she felt they were close enough, she stopped at the biggest boulder and laid her back against it. Mecallia took a deep breath; they were just beyond her hiding spot. Ever so slowly, her body rose from the ground and peeked around the massive boulder she hid behind. And as the voices continued, her eye widened in horror. . .
On the other side of her boulder a small cliff dropped off. And beyond that small cliff below she saw men digging into the rocky ground. But they were not ordinary men . . . they came in all shapes and sizes. Some looked like normal humans to her, but then others had distinguishing features she swore were only in stories or mythology books. Her body began to tremble. Not just from their unusual forms. . . .But the fact they towered far above her.
Despite the small cliff she stood on, the massive forms closest to her reached up far above her spot, about chest height from what she could guess. Quickly Mecallia spun back around the boulder, her chest rising and falling so fast she swore she would pass out from the mass intake of oxygen.
“Giants. . .” She breathed. “I’m in a world of giants. . .”
Her body shook uncontrollably as Mecallia slid down the boulder wall . . . She was dead . . . She had to be. Why else would there be strange beings walking around on an alien world that she could only theorize at how she got here? She bent her knees into herself and silently sobbed into them, knowing the full truth that she was alone like the others who have fallen prey to this grey rocky landscape. . .
“Von del, ya?! Swel dien veel’ leesh kat’ra oui!!” Another booming shout rung through the air, and Mecallia shrunk back against the rock in terror. There was a sound of something massive hitting another, resulting in an alien like cry and another earthquake following it. Mecallia felt her body vibrate along with the tremors, and when it finally stopped, she willed every ounce of nerve in her body to turn back to the giant men. She didn’t know why, but she had to know what would cause such a horrific noise. Ever so slowly, she peaked out until only her eyes could be seen around the rock. Mecallia did her best to slow her breathing, for fear of that despite their massive size that they could still pin point her location. With shaky hands leaning against the wall for support, Mecallia blinked away what tears that blurred her vision and focused the giants before her.
The low rumbling of the gray clouds and the gloomy rocky landscape was not a pleasant combination to what Mecallia would see. She mentally guessed, as far as she could see, to be at least thirty men working the rocky ground. How did she know? Almost all were completely shirtless. But the clothes that the others did have were nothing more than tatters, soaked with dirt and sweat beyond recognition of what its original color once was. They all wore shackles around their ankles, for which a heavy chain interlaced through the rings of each ankle and then connecting with another pair of shackles of the other next to him. For every ten men, a guard was stationed to keep a close eye on them and make sure they were all working at the same pace. But what made Mecallia tremble even more were the deep red marks that covered their bare flesh.
A booming cry made her flinch and looked to her left, and her face paled if it were not any paler. A group of prisoners had one man down closest to her and was struggling to get up. He was so close she could see the ripples of his muscles shaking, trembling beneath the grimy flesh that covered his whole torso. The man was nearly on his hands and knees when a fierce kick from one the guards that had the monster appearance of a goblin aimed at his ribs. Mecallia covered her mouth in time to suppress a scream as the boot made contact and the man crumbled to the rocky ground like a beat up doll.
He laid there motionless. Only the massive shoulders moving up and down gave her the sign that he was still breathing.
Move. . .Please move. . . She mentally begged. The giant guards around him laughed and pointed their deformed weapons at him, muttering something in a language she couldn’t understand. Finally the shackled giant moved, his breath ragged into fitting coughs as he tried to stand once more, but dropped back to the ground in a loud thud as quickly as he rose. Her heart broke, seeing the sight of deep wounds on his back and shoulders, some obviously still fresh and blood now flowing and running down the length of his back. The giant turned on his side, still coughing from the kick. Mecallia was shocked to find that he was much younger than the rest of the giants, perhaps no older than her. She watched as the coughing stopped and he looked up from his position on the ground. The guard that stood in front her was between the prisoner and her hiding spot on the cliff, and she assumed that he was looking at the guard.
When the young giant’s face appeared, she gasped. Beneath the muddy blonde hair and dirt covered face, his eyes focused past the guard and slightly above the cliff face. Mecallia saw his eyes widen, piercing through her like a dagger. Even at a distance she saw that they were no ordinary human eyes . . . they were like jewels . . . a beautiful, soft, glossy green color like emerald stones, cut smoothly to perfection. They stood out against the dark and despairing landscape around themselves, glowing with a shine from an unknown light source she could not distinguish.
The eyes were only able to focus on her for several seconds, before a huge scaled hand grabbed the boy’s shoulder roughly and dragged him to his feet. All Mecallia could do was watch as the two guards half dragged the poor boy away from the rest and towards the larger than normal buildings. After they had left a good distance, Mecallia found the will to move, and wasted no time as her legs took her as far they could, away from such horror that had burned into the deep depths of her mind.
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Post by natalie on Feb 9, 2013 0:26:54 GMT -5
Intense, neat first giant tiny encounter, really like all the descriptions and vivid details. This is one of my favorite stories. Keep up the great work, cool title also!!
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Post by xnekoxmika on Feb 13, 2013 17:10:34 GMT -5
wow can't wait for ch.8 soon
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Post by lazybug on Feb 14, 2013 2:45:25 GMT -5
Sorry guys . . . I could have posted part 8 but I'm rewriting it at the moment. Wasn't happy with it.
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Post by natalie on Feb 14, 2013 12:41:17 GMT -5
That's ok, no prob
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Post by lazybug on Feb 22, 2013 19:05:03 GMT -5
Part 8
She couldn’t stop . . . she couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her face as she stumbled back in the direction of the plane. She kept going until Mecallia saw the same tower like structure ahead. Staggering, Mecallia walk up to the tower and slid her back against the cool metallic surface, sliding down to the ground as she cried into her hands in hopelessness.
Her mind still burned with the images of the giants, chained and forced to work, the hideous faces of the guards that taunted them. But her mind kept projecting an image that stuck to her the most . . . the boy with the emerald eyes.
He was big, yes, but at the same time very human like. His size clearly confirmed her theory of where she was; that she was not on Earth anymore, or worse . . . . Her heart wrenched as she pulled away the tear soaked hands from her face and stared at them with blurry eyes. It still pounded in her chest at great speed, threatening to burst from the strain of seeing such a sight that Mecallia wouldn’t have ever experienced in her sixteen years of life.
And yet . . . Why did she feel sympathy for him?
Mecallia couldn’t understand it; they were big . . . big enough to crush you with one blow compared to her diminutive size. She had heard many stories about giants, folklore or modern. The massive, destructive like creatures that ate humans on a daily basis, until a knight . . . or a clever village idiot, defeat the monster and saves the day. And then there were the giants in modern fiction, practically polar opposites. They were gentle, caring, willing to defend the helpless from danger that the little ones couldn’t handle. Either way, they didn’t exist . . . they were only in fairytales, right?
“Aahh, I’m so confused!” She shut her eyes tightly, a moan escaping her mouth. There was no point in trying to reason with herself. Mecallia’s mind kept finding excuses as to why they were chained up, being abused, and forced to work in such horrid conditions as she witnessed, but none of them added up. With a swipe of her sleeve, she tried to remove the tears from her face before looking up to the rocky landscape, having become so familiar to her now as the gray clouds threaten again to pour rain on the small figure.
Mecallia didn’t know what to do; she could go back to the plane and live out her days alone until she dies, or . . . A dawn of light flashed in her mind and her eyes widened, slapping a hand against her forehead, “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Why would she even think like that! Was it even possible?! Mecallia’s mind became dizzy just thinking about it. Sure, they were freaking HUGE! But it didn’t make them any less human that they deserved such treatment.
But then again, how can a timid teenage girl from a small Wisconsin town with little to no fighting ability, and is only the size of a giant’s palm do anything to help them!? She growled to herself as she rested her head against her hands.
Yeessss . . . how could such a pathetic creature such as you help anyone?
Her head snapped up at the sound of the voice. An unnatural chill lingered in the air around her, running up the length of her spine and spreading to her lungs that froze in place, refusing to inhale air from the sudden sound. Mecallia looked to her left . . . nothing, then looked to her right . . . nothing. Her body turned all the way round until the metallic surface of the tower was within her vision, and then exhaled a deep sigh. She imagined it again. Mecallia’s head rung with negative thoughts, and they were starting to take form on the outside, provoking her with even more negative thoughts that she didn’t normally before.
Heeheeehee . . . how insulting. . . .You should have died along with the rest of your kind . .
“Shut up . . .” Mecallia said quietly, clutching both sides of her head. Why was she thinking like this? She already made a commitment not to do anything rash, so why is it happening now?
You’re weak . . . you don’t deserve to breathe the air you were given . . .
She clenched her teeth and shut her eyes tight, “Shut up. . .” She hissed louder. The air became colder and colder, the moister on the gray rocks slowly turning to frost and spreading closer to her sitting spot. There was the sound of movement to her left, but Mecallia didn’t dare open her eyes to see what it was, since her first priority was stopping the eerie voice inside her head. If this is what it’s like to be insane, then she didn’t like it at all.
Why would you waste your life to free a monster that deserves to suffer for his sins! . . .
Now she was pissed, “I said, SHUT. UP!!!”
Silence followed, and the unnatural cold air lifted. Mecallia’s body ceased to shake and a calming slowly spread over her. Her unstable feet forced themselves under her body, and then pushed herself to stand steady next to the shining gray tower so alien on the edge of the rocky plateau. Its true she thought. Why would she waste her life for creatures she had no capability to save? And even she did . . . would they be friendly? Would they even help her find a way home? But her mind quickly went to the opposite, and she didn’t like it. But . . .
She closed her eyes carefully . . . Listening. Even at a distance she can still hear them; the faint pounding of the chisels and hammers the giants worked with, metal meeting rock with a terrifying, quaking force. But her ears heard something else. . .
. . . The song . . . it tried to get her attention before, and it had her attention now . . . it was whimsical, yet sad at the same time. It came from in the direction where the giants were, and along with the song came the grunts and cries of their pain.
Mecallia didn’t know why, but strangely . . . she can feel it. That same foreign strength building up in her chest, her heart warming to a point she no longer felt the cold weather piercing through her damp sweatshirt underneath the leather armor. Just like back at the plane, she felt no hope at first, just like the giant with the green eyes moments ago had no hope. So when she finally opened her eyes to the dark world, they no longer displayed fear as before, but with determined sanguinity in its place. The feeling only grew more as her feet began to move on their own accord. Not running to hide or to stumble as if weak from exhaustion, but instead walked with confidence in their strides, her mind on a mission back towards the plane.
Whatever reason for their suffering she may never know. . .But what Mecallia did know, was that she wasn’t going stand by and let it go on for any longer.
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Post by natalie on Feb 25, 2013 18:17:54 GMT -5
I really, really like this !! I like it that she is fighting with herself inwardly. I like the way you ended the chapter. Reads like a Sci Fi movie. Very cool story !! Keep up the great work !!
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Post by lazybug on Feb 27, 2013 16:36:43 GMT -5
I'm glad you're enjoying it, Natalie! I'll have the next part up soon as possible.
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Post by lazybug on Mar 14, 2013 17:06:48 GMT -5
Part 9
The light misty rain kept coming down, not stopping at the slightest. It only made the rocks the poor girl traveled on become slipper without falling on her rear. But it didn’t bother her as Mecallia’s mind calculated what she would need. She first searched in the ghost ship valley, picking up anything of use or of possible use. Then went straight for the rock under ledge that she called home, and rummaged for the key items among the pile. Mecallia learned pretty quickly that she could only bring so much, so she started with the most useful and vital.
Hastily she stripped and put on darker clothes that closely resembled the dark gray landscape, then refastened the leather armor back on. She next strapped on a pair of leather forearm armor cuffs for better protection, and lightweight shoulder armor as well. Not only were they well padded, but were lined and studded with an inner layer of thin metal for absorbing and against piecing, which Mecallia found important. The same went for the shin armor protecting her legs, so with that done she went to her next phase.
Picking up a dark green backpack, she collected various items from the pile next to the mattress, all the while thinking of different scenarios for each one that could be useful for in this type of situation; a ration of food and water, gloves, a flashlight, the knife collection, a small box of tools from the plane which she tied together so they wouldn’t rattle in her bag, rope from a cliff climbing set, first aid kit, and a small pick ax tool also from the same climbing set. Mecallia wished she could find the rest of it, since it would have been useful, but it would have to do.
When Mecallia felt she had what was needed, she stood back up to observe her inventory. She frowned at the sight of it. Half of the stuff probably wasn’t necessary, or possibly she would accidently leave something behind and get trapped, caught, or worse. What was she missing? Mecallia couldn’t bring everything, she had to be light weight but at the same time still prepared.
She moaned a sigh as two fingers pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, the rainclouds rumbling quietly above her. But then a thought came to her and she raised her head. Instantly she jogged back to the ship grave yard in the valley, and looked around through the light fog until spotting one of the commercial fishing boats that lay on its side. Mecallia carefully climbed over its rusted railing, reaching into the cab and looking through the few worn cabinets it contained. When she didn’t find what she was looking for, Mecallia went to the next boat and looked through the cabinets there.
Finally, she found it. Picking it up by the handle, she extracted the pistol from inside the broken beat bench, holding it gingerly into her hands. It was merely a six shot pistol, which was surprisingly in good shape, and fortunately for her still has six bullets in it, including a box of ammo in the bench seat. Despite the odds that were against her, she a least felt a little bit safe with it in her possession. So with a brief nod, Mecallia took the pistol and the box of ammo with her.
It was late afternoon when her preparations were complete. Mecallia felt she looked even more ridiculous than before, but at least it was more practical. Her body was adorned with leather armor hidden underneath her brother’s camouflage suit, and held her decorative katana at her side. Mecallia’s backpack was full of essentials and ready to go, her long brown hair loosely braided behind her head to keep away from her face. She stashed away the aviator’s hat in the bag but kept the goggles around her neck just in case. It felt strange.
Mecallia took a deep, deep breath, letting the pint up air exhale through her mouth. The clouds above rumbled their usual tune as the girl gently shouldered her backpack against her back, and began to walk a distance away from the rock ledge and towards the plane. Twenty some crosses greeted the lonely figure, her face creased in forlorn. She stared at the names etched into them, knowing full well that no one but her will know where they lay for their loved ones to find. At her feet lay the bag with their identities inside, the only proof in this world that they truly existed. Mecallia pick it up and placed the bag in a small box cooler to protect them from the cold rain, but before closing it she placed a written note inside, to future visitors of what she learned of this world so far. Once done, she placed the cooler underneath a metal plate and then arranged debris to point to its location. There was nothing to be done now, everything was complete, and it frightened her. The time was nearing . . .
Her heart chilled with sadness, but she knew she wasn’t alone in it. Mecallia’s mind returned to the image of the boy’s sad eyes, and her heart rekindled in resolve. She will find that boy, even if it were for a brief moment again. So with that, Mecallia readjusted the pack on her shoulders and then set off to the direction of the giants again, only this time she may or not return. The girl never looked back as she walked farther and farther . . . from the plane, the grave, and the ship grave yard behind her.
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Post by natalie on Mar 15, 2013 14:11:01 GMT -5
Another awesome chapter, go, go Mecallia, onward and out
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