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Tag: Glory

Part 4 – Sanguinary Affliction

Published by Snow on February 4, 2018

London, 2209 – 276 Years Before Impact Day

Alarms blared around him as Tyson watched the catastrophe unfold on the monitors in front of him. A knot began to twist in his stomach even before Mason’s orders came through.

“Fuck me.”

The order came through. Meet me in my office. He didn’t waste any time.

Despite the situation, Mason seemed calm, almost preternaturally so. It was almost worse than the alternative.

“What happened?” he asked. Mason took a while to respond.

“Do you know what I created?” Mason asked, instead of answering.

Tyson had never thought to question Mason on his work. It was better not to ask questions.

After Mason was called to Melbourne, he’d come back changed. He obsessed over his work. Then, when his daughter had died, he’d changed again, disconnected from everyone around him.

Tyson never asked why Alice was alive and well again, or why she no longer aged. He never asked why Mason had a small community of seemingly perfect humans kept far below the surface, each of them beautiful and charming and unspeakably dangerous.

He’d never asked why Mason looked younger and healthier every day.

He’d never questioned the meetings Mason had with high-ranking government officials, owners of prisons, hospitals, detainment and refugee camps. It wasn’t in the job description, and he rarely wanted the answers.

“I assumed super-soldiers,” Tyson said diplomatically.

“Narrow minded as always,” Mason replied. “I created the future. The next step in human evolution. I created the prototypes for a species beyond humans, a species which could stand against any threat to them. And do you know why?”

“Isn’t that your job?”

“Do you know what it means to conquer evolution?” Mason asked, ignoring him. “It means responsibility. It means that if we don’t push ourselves to change, we remain the same. And everywhere around us, everything else grows stronger.”

“Last I checked, we were only gettin’ more dangerous too,” Tyson offered. “Guns are getting bigger, and the only thing that really kills us is, well, us but with bigger guns.”

“You’re wrong,” Mason scolded. “There’s so much more out there, and we’re as fragile as we’ve ever been. But not anymore.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that they’re out,” Mason snarled. “Every one of them is more intelligent than any human out there, idiot or genius, but they couldn’t understand. No, they chose not to understand. They turned their backs on me, and now they’re gone.”

“So, a bunch of superhumans are on the loose, and your work is down the shitter?”

“A lesser man would concede so,” Mason said. “Not me. You’re going to bring them back. Starting with my daughter.”

“And how do you think I’m gonna manage that?” Tyson asked. “You may have given me a few upgrades over the years, but I don’t stand a chance against them.”

“With this,” Mason said, holding up a syringe. It seemed to give off a dull glow.

“Another upgrade?”

“The upgrade,” Mason told him. “It’ll react with the nanotech in your body already, bring you up to a physical match.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. Just remember, the progenitors are more than dangerous. Any one of them could cause more damage to the world than any bomb, and there are over twenty of them out there.”

“Don’t you fret, boss. I always knew I’d end up saving the world one day.”

* * *

Of all twenty-six of Mason’s progenitors, Tyson liked the youngest one the least. Specimen Z was every bit as dangerous as the rest of them, but with an added layer of being prone to bloodthirsty rages. She killed mercilessly, savagely, taking a cruel delight in her physical superiority.

G wasn’t much better. He was insidious; a careful planner, charismatic manipulator and unwaveringly dedicated.

Of course Alice had ended up with the two of them.

He tracked them to a small hostel in the middle of the city, closer than he’d ever been. His patience was wearing thin, and the other progenitors weren’t going to catch themselves.

The girl behind the counter, an awkward young thing with pale skin and blue hair, looked up at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Good evening,” he said, forcing himself to be courteous. It was harder than it should have been. He was angrier than he should have been.

“Uh, hey,” the girl said, clearly bored. “Lookin’ for a room?”

“No,” he said, fighting the temptation to simply yank her over the counter and bite her. Where was that coming from?

“O…kay? What can I do for you, then?”

She seemed sweet, and entirely unconnected to any of this. So why did he want to kill her?

“I’m looking for some friends of mine,” he said, trying to handle things reasonably. Violence wasn’t necessary.

“A’ight…”

“They just checked in here, but I don’t know their room number,” he lied. It wasn’t his strong suit.

“So message ’em. Call ’em.”

“They’re currently offline.”

Just give me the room number. The longer this conversation goes on, the harder it is to resist…

“Then I can’t help ya. Sorry.”

“It’s important,” he insisted, leaning on the counter. It took all of his restraint not to simply grab her head and slam it into her computer.

“So are the rules,” she said. He sighed, trying to expel the violent urges. It didn’t help.

“Can you at least tell me if you’ve seen them?”

“Yeah… No.”

Don’t kill her. Don’t kill her. Don’t kill her.

He reached into his jacket, and pulled out his tablet. She flinched, but he barely noticed. Instead, he pulled up a picture of the three of them, showing it to her.

“Those sure are some people,” she said.

Don’t kill her.

“Gabriel, Zoe and Alice.”

“Nope,” she said.

Don’t.

“You’re lying,” he snarled.

“Does it matter?”

Don’t…

“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation,” he said.

“Well, you just told me you were only looking for some friends, so…”

Kill her.

“They’re very dangerous,” he said.

“I try not to judge.”

Kill.

“If you don’t start taking this seriously…” he threatened, but she seemed unfazed.

“Yes?”

Kill her.

“Those three people, they’re fugitives,” he said, through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to bring them in, but I need your help.”

“One of them is a kid. What’d she do, push someone in a playground?”

“She’s their captive.” Another poor lie.

“She seemed pretty happy to me.”

It would be so easy, too.

“So you did see them.”

“Still doesn’t matter,” she said, shrugging. “I can’t tell you anything.”

Rip her fucking throat out and watch the blood spray over the desk.

“You’re endangering countless lives,” he snarled at her. “Is your petty service job really worth that?”

“Yep.”

“Idiot!”

“Well, now I really want to help you,” she said sarcastically. “What were those names again?”

Tear off her arm and use the bones to gouge out her eyes.

“Get out of my way,” he said, barely able to contain the violent urges. “I’ll check myself.”

“Yeah, or not.”

That was the last straw. He vaulted over the counter, throwing her against the back wall like she weight nothing. He barely even noticed, checking the computer for recent check-ins.

“Room 12. Thank you.”

“You’re breaking the law, you know,” she said, sounding winded. She probably had a broken rib. Maybe more.

Crush those ribs into dust. Make a soup out of her organs.

“I’m saving the world,” he countered.

As he walked off, he heard her speaking again, but it wasn’t to him.

“Guys, this is is Roxie. You’re about to have company.”

She warned them. The little bitch warned them, and they would be well and truly gone by the time he got to their room.

She ruined everything. Kill the fucking bitch.

He slammed his fist into the computer, smashing it. She recoiled in fear.

“Oh, you stupid kid.”

“Feel free to report me,” she said, with a clearly false bravado.

Nail her to the wall and leave her there.

He shook his head, but the violent images just kept getting stronger. He needed something else, something to focus on.

Break every bone in her body, one by one. All 206 of them.

Mason had warned him about something…

The progenitors. They were infectious. That was why they were dangerous. That was why they had to be contained.

“You spoke to them,” he said, pulling out his pistol. “You’re infected.”

“Say what now?”

“It’s too late for you.”

“Uh…”

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

“I don’t want to fight,” Z said, with a gun pressed against his temple. “I really don’t.”

Alice stood behind her, a sombre expression on her face.

“What do you want, then?” Tyson asked.

“A cure,” Z crooned. “He infected us with something. We didn’t know. We never wanted any of this.”

“We only wanted to be free,” Alice added.

“So come back with me,” Tyson said.

“I want a promise,” Z insisted. “I want a cure, and I want freedom. No more living in a lab.”

“I take it G wasn’t on board with this decision?” Tyson had watched as Z stabbed her brother through the heart, dropping him down a twenty story elevator shaft.

“He’s more stubborn than I am,” Z said.

“He’ll be okay,” Alice said.

“You lot are bloody hard to kill,” Tyson agreed.

“So, do we have a deal?” Z asked him. “Or do I blow your brains out right now and figure it out myself?”

“It’s not my deal to make,” Tyson argued. “But I can call. I can ask.”

“Do it, then.”

He already knew what Mason would say. Any lie was worth it to get his daughter back. But it had to look convincing.

He rang his boss.

“What is it?”

“I, uh, I got a proposition, boss. From one of your girls. Z.”

“You’re supposed to be bringing them back, not having a tea party,” Mason chided him.

“She’s got me at a… disadvantage,” Tyson said. “Says she’ll come back if you can promise her a cure. And a little more room.”

“It’s not a negotiation,” Mason said. Z leaned in, whispering into the mic.

“I know your dog here is disposable, but you might want to reconsider,” she said. “I’m not travelling alone.”

“…Alice?” Mason asked.

“She wants to come home,” Z said. “You can make that happen.”

“Fine,” Mason said. “You have my word. Tyson, start looking for the others. The girls know their way back.”

Tyson just growled as the line shut off. Z smirked, and lowered the gun.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Just go,” he said.

“Those are some serious anger issues,” she taunted him. “Are you sure you’re not infected too?”

“I’m immune,” he said. “Had to be. Been around you your whole lives, remember?”

She smiled, taking a step back.

“It must be peaceful, being an idiot,” she said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you really trust him?” she asked. “Do you trust anything he says?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“If you knew what we really were, if you knew what it took to make us, you wouldn’t believe him either,” she said. “Whatever you think his plan was, you’re wrong. Whatever he told you, he’s lying.”

“Then why are you going back?” he asked.

“To kill him,” she said, before picking up Alice and darting from the room, leaving him alone in the darkness.

 

Next Week: XO

Part 3 – Genesis

Published by Snow on January 28, 2018

London, 2184 – 301 Years Before Impact Day

Mason stood over his daughter’s bed, barely able to feel. She looked so peaceful in death, and he wished he could cry. James had cried. Mason just felt hollow.

For nearly a decade, his research had consumed him. He’d neglected Alice, assuming there’d be more time. Then she was gone, and he had nothing. His research had failed to yield the answers he needed, his husband was inconsolable, his daughter out of his reach.

He felt lost, directionless. Close to hopeless. He alone knew what was coming, and he alone could stand against it. James hadn’t listened, wouldn’t believe him. Haylie didn’t understand. He had no friends outside of that. Tyson, maybe. Tyson understood, but he wasn’t nearly bright enough to help. A useful tool, nothing more.

But a tool was useless without a purpose, and Mason no longer had a purpose to direct Tyson towards. All he had were dead ends and grief, and the unwavering certainty that the end was coming.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching down to brush Alice’s cold cheek.

It shouldn’t have happened. He should have noticed earlier. James should have noticed earlier. Between the two of them, they should have been able to save her. Instead, all they did was make her suffer more. At least the suffering part was over.

Eventually, he couldn’t look at her any longer. He couldn’t return home, couldn’t bare to see James. Instead, he went to the only place that ever felt safe anymore. He went back to his lab.

He slumped into his desk chair, dismissing endlessly scrolling pages of simulation results. It didn’t matter. None of them listed the successes he needed.

“I’m sorry,” Glory said, from behind the glass barrier. Mason did his best to ignore it. Glory was taunting him with his daughter’s voice.

“Don’t.”

“Or what?” Glory asked, shifting to Tyson’s voice. “What could you possibly do to me?”

For years, Mason had experimented on Glory, looking for answers. He knew nothing about them, except for their obsession with Haylie, whose secret he had kept for ten long years. James knew, of course, but nobody else. Not even Tyson.

Glory was, though he was loathe to use the word, impossible. Their body defied any known laws of conservation of mass or energy, regenerating cells endlessly, living without any need for food or water, despite showing hunger and thirst. Extracted blood or tissue tended to simply evaporate or fall apart after a length of time, as if returning to the host body. They aged, but didn’t die.

Eventually, he’d given up. Whatever mysteries were locked inside of Glory were inaccessible to him, and he had more important work to do. He had an apocalypse to prepare for, a species to uplift, defenders to create. After ten years, he hadn’t come any close to any of his goals.

More than once, he’d considered letting Glory go. It felt cruel, keeping them locked up. If not for Haylie’s insistence, he probably would have let them go. She wanted them contained, though. So he obliged.

“I can always think of something worse,” he said, without really meaning it.

“Have you considered asking for help?” Glory asked, this time in his own voice. Somehow, that was the most disturbing.

“There’s nobody in the world who can help me with this,” he said, sighing.

“I can.”

He looked at Glory, sitting calmly with their legs folded underneath them. They very rarely moved, not that there was a lot of room to move.

“How?” he asked.

“After ten years, you finally ask,” Glory said, in Jame’s voice. “I know what the Destroyer is. And I know there’s only one thing that can stop it.”

“Tell me,” Mason pleaded.

“Why should I?” Glory said, now sounding like Haylie. “After everything you’ve done to me, why should I help you?”

“What do you want?” Mason asked. “Why bring it up now?”

“Maybe I just want you to suffer,” they said, in the voice they’d first used, ten years ago.

“You cannot bring me more pain than I’m already feeling.”

Glory looked at him, then stood, placing their palm against the glass.

“The Destroyer comes from another world,” they said. “Compared to something like you, they may as well be a god. They possess the power to deconstruct life itself, and shape it anew.”

“What could possibly stand against that?” Mason asked.

“Me,” Glory replied.

“You?”

“The Great Destroyer is not the only god,” Glory said. “Every world has one.”

“And you’re…”

“In the flesh, so to speak.” They gave a smug bow. “And I am the only chance you have at stopping the Destroyer.”

“Haylie captured you easily,” Mason pointed out. “I trapped you effortlessly. What power do you have?”

Glory sighed, and returned to a seated position, legs folded beneath them.

“I’m not a fighter, not really. I tried fighting the Destroyer before, a long time ago. I lost. I’m weaker now.”

“Then what good are you?”

“Surely a man of science can see value beyond just martial prowess?” Glory asked, in his own voice once again. “I have answers, and I have the ability to resist the Destroyer’s entropic powers. Between the two of us, I think there’s a chance yet.”

“And why are you suddenly offering your help?” Mason asked, suspicious.

“Because you’re finally desperate enough to take it,” Glory said. “And because I’ll be damned if I hand my world over to the Destroyer.”

“So what do we do?”

“We continue your research,” Glory said. “You were only missing one key component.”

“What? How do you…”

“Use me. Use my blood as a bonding agent.”

“Your blood always evaporates,” Mason pointed out.

“Unless I choose to let it stay.”

“You’ve been blocking me, all this time?”

“I’ve been a prisoner all this time. Now, we’re collaborators,” Glory said. “Oh, and this time, think bigger.”

“How much bigger?”

“Think in the hundreds of thousands,” Glory told him.

“That’s…”

He shook his head. What Glory was asking, it was unthinkable. But then…

Melbourne, 2175 – 310 Years Before Impact Day

“So, you’re Mason,” the creature said, scowling at him with burning eyes. It spoke with a resonance in its voice that shook him to his core.

Whatever he was looking at, it certainly wasn’t human. Humanoid, maybe, though even that was questionable.  It had four limbs, each bound to a surface on the baroque obsidian throne it sat on. It seemed to have flesh, although it was difficult to tell for sure. The skin was a deep black that seemed to absorb all light, with pulsing red veins that glowed against their dark backing.

It had a head, and the head had eyes, but they weren’t human eyes. Glowing red orbs full of malevolence and hate, sitting above an opening too wide to be a mouth, filled with sharpened blades too cruel to be teeth.

Its chest had been ripped open, and a crude mechanical harness laid on top of it. He could see through to an empty chest cavity, and wires and pipes draining the creature of whatever was inside it.

So this is where the power comes from.

“How do you know me?” he asked, keeping a safer distance than needed. “Why did you ask for me?” The creature tilted its head slightly, the mouth-like opening curling into a sadistic smile.

“Because of what you do,” it said.

“My work?”

“Your future.”

It gnashed its teeth, attempting to lunge forward. The bonds held tight.

“I don’t understand,” Mason said.

“You don’t need to,” it replied. “There’s only one thing I need you to understand. One day, I am going to be free of this prison. When that day comes, I am going to find you. I am going to destroy you. I am going to destroy your entire world, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

Mason took a step back, overwhelmed with fear. It was a deep, instinctual fear, one he felt powerless to fight.

He believed the creature. He believed it intended to kill him, and he believed it truly would. He felt incapable of believing anything else, as if by speaking the words, the creature had set that future in stone.

“Why?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“Because that’s what I do,” the creature told him. “And because your sins deserve the kind of Hell only I can inflict.”

“I haven’t done anything,” he protested. “I wouldn’t do anything!”

“Now, Mason,” the creature said, in a soft, almost soothing voice. A voice that sounded almost human. “We both know that isn’t true.”

“I’ll stop you,” he said, trying to will himself into believing it. “I’ll save this world, and I’ll stop you from destroying anything.”

The creature didn’t say anything after that. It only grinned.

For as long as he lived, he would never forget that grin.

London, 2185 – 300 Years Before Impact Day

Mason smiled at the young girl, filled with pride as she opened her eyes for the first time. He didn’t think of the cost it took to get this far, or the work still ahead of him. All he thought about was that for the first time in a year, he had his daughter back.

“Good morning,” Haylie said, as the girl looked around the room. Mason watched from behind mirrored glass.

“Hi…” the girl said, sounding confused. “Where… Who am I?”

“Specimen A,” Haylie informed her. “Alice. You’re deep underground London, in a genetics research laboratory.”

“Am I not real?”

“You’re more than real,” Haylie said. “You’re the first.”

“The first what?”

“Progenitor,” Haylie told her. “Soon, you’ll have siblings. One day, you’ll form the template for a newer, stronger humanity.”

“Why?” Alice asked.

“Because that’s what it will take to save the world,” Haylie said. “But there will be plenty of time to discuss that later. Would you like to meet your father?”

 

Next Week: Sanguinary Affliction

Part 2 – Nothing, From Nowhere

Published by Snow on January 21, 2018

London, 2175 – 310 Years Before Impact Day

Shortly after sitting down, Tyson found himself watching an attractive young redhead enter the cafe. To his surprise, she walked straight to his table, and sat down opposite him. Her intense yellow eyes bored into him, catching him completely off guard.

“Tyson Briggs?” she asked, with a tone to her voice that suggested it wasn’t really a question.

“That’s me,” he said, glancing around. “And you are…?”

“A representative of Genesis Laboratories,” she said. “I’m here to conduct your interview.” He was surprised to her an American accent.

“No kidding,” he said, wishing he’d expected such an obvious tactic. “Alright then. Shoot.”

“Your record is stellar,” she said, in a slightly detached tone of voice. She didn’t seem particularly interested in being here, or talking to him. “Service in both military and paramilitary organisations, and work as a private investigator. We checked with your contacts and accessed the secure records of your service, and we were very impressed.”

“Good?” he said, not sure what else to say.

“Why are you interested in security work?” she asked. “We’re concerned you might not find the work as… stimulating as your previous employment.”

“That’s kind of the point,” he said, shrugging. “My lady’s pregnant. We’re looking to settle down. I’m interested in staying in one place, with regular hours and regular pay, y’know? And a little less danger, hopefully.”

“Satisfactory,” she said bluntly. “And you’ll consent to the security precautions necessary for the position?”

“So long as it don’t affect my family, I don’t particularly mind what you do to me,” he answered. The list of requirements had been a little too long for him to get all the way through, but it seemed pretty standard. More intense than he was expecting, but nothing compared to the black ops missions he’d run in the past.

“Perfect,” she said, with a surprisingly intimidating smile. “When can you start?”

* * *

“This is Charles Mason,” Haylie told him, gesturing to a wiry man, middle-aged, with strawberry blonde hair and focussed cyan eyes. “He’s one of the leading researchers here, and your primary client here.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Tyson said, offering a hand.

“Likewise,” Mason said, shaking with his left hand. Tyson noticed a simple silver band on Mason’s ring finger, and saw an opportunity.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” he asked.

“The owner of this facility,” Mason replied, disapprovingly. “James.”

“Oh,” Tyson said awkwardly. “Sorry, mate. Anyway, what do you do here? Are you allowed to tell me?”

Mason sighed, and started walking further into the lab. After a few moments, he gestured for Tyson to follow him.

“Ordinarily, I’d not share this, but it’s important for you to know what you’re protecting,” he said. He pressed a button on a wall, opening a secret door into a hidden room. To Tyson’s surprise, it appeared to be a nursery. An infant was crawling around a penned-off area.

“You’re looking for a babysitter?” Tyson asked, beginning to wonder if the job was really going to be worth it. Would the boredom kill him before he ever met his own kid?

“This is my research,” Mason said, slightly exasperated. “Meet my daughter, Alice.”

Tyson looked back down at the infant. Nothing about her seemed unusual, really. She was fairer than Mason, with deep, purple eyes. She was a little young for a gene mod, sure, but stranger things had happened.

“She special?”

“Every father thinks his daughter is special,” Mason said. “But yes, she’s special. I created her from the combined genetic material of my husband and I.”

“Bloody Hell.”

“I don’t need for you to interact with her directly. I just need you to know what it is you’re protecting.”

“You got it, Boss,” Tyson said. “There isn’t an army in the world that can get through me to your kid.”

“Good,” Mason said. “Haylie?”

“Come with me,” Haylie told him. “We’ll finish your initiation and have you ready for work in no time.”

Tyson followed her back out of the lab, leaving Mason alone with his child. It was a little odd, Tyson thought, but nothing he had a problem with. Lab-grown kids were nothing new, although he did have to wonder if there was something different about this one to warrant such high-priced protection. Then again, maybe the parents were just rich. He had said his husband was the owner of this absurdly sized underground facility.

Haylie led him into a room with the sign ‘Induction Room‘ over the door. It was a sterile white, and once he entered, the door sealed behind him.

“What’s this?” he asked, feeling slightly nervous.

“Security,” she said blandly.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need more details than that, love.”

“Don’t call me love,” she replied shortly.

“Sorry, alright.”

“You did read the conditions of employment, didn’t you? You’re to be injected with a mixture of nanotech which will allow us to monitor your vitals at all times, track your location, and allow you to interface with the security systems in this facility. In addition, if you attempt to misuse your position here, your employment and life can be terminated in a single moment.”

He had to blink a few times, sure she had to be joking. Her expression was anything but mischievous, though.

“You’re serious?”

“It was in the contract,” she said.

“This is bonkers.”

“You’d rather leave?” she asked.

“I’d sooner not have something that might kill me if someone gets hammered and hits the wrong button, you know?”

“It’s perfectly safe,” she told him. “I’m the only one who can activate it, and I assure you, I’ve never been hammered in my life.”

“Right, so if I wanna steal company secrets, all I have to do is off you first?”

He had meant it as a joke, but certainly hadn’t made it sound like one. Still, if she felt threatened, she showed no sign of it.

“I wouldn’t suggest trying it,” she said, and for some reason, he felt threatened. Who was this woman?

“Alright, alright, it’s a good gig,” he said. “But if you’re gonna blow me up, just remember I have a kid on the way, yeah?”

“I will deliver the news to them personally,” she said, and he wasn’t sure if she was joking, even as the corners of her mouth curled up.

* * *

It didn’t take Tyson long to slip into a routine. The work was easy, the pay was good, and he did find himself enjoying the workplace. Haylie was always around, and had a composed, controlled energy that he appreciated. Mason’s husband visited often, and Tyson couldn’t help but admiring the ways they interacted. It reminded him of his parents.

Everything was going perfectly when Mason received the invite. Tyson was there when it happened, a simple email that had Mason pacing about the office like a restless hunting dog.

The creature beneath the Tower has spoken your name. So rarely does this happen, we must invite you to speak with it.

We must insist.

Please, Charles Mason, come to Melbourne. Come to the Tower.

Tyson couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and frankly, he didn’t care. He knew Melbourne’s Tower was a scientific anomaly, producing enough power to supply the entire country with plenty leftover to export, but didn’t care beyond that. He’d never heard of a creature, but evidently, Mason had.

He packed in a hurry, pausing only to consider bringing Alice. In the end, he decided against it, citing the unknown danger of the trip. She was left in Haylie’s care, and Tyson’s job remained the same.

And so Tyson and Haylie were left alone for several days. Without Mason around, it was significantly more boring, but a job was a job.

Two days in, sitting at Mason’s desk, enjoying a packed lunch, he noticed something odd. There was a large mirror on the wall near the desk, which Tyson had always considered an odd aesthetic choice. Sitting where he was, though, he was certain he could see a shadowy figure in the reflection, one that wasn’t there when he looked around the room.

Curious, he approached the mirror. The shadowy figured moved with him, cautiously at first, then more fluidly.

“More weird experiments?” he muttered to an empty room.

He raised a hand to the mirror, touching his own reflection. The entire mirror shimmered, then faded to clear glass.

“What the…”

Behind the mirror, now visible through the glass, was what appeared to be a small prison cell. Inside that cell was a person, young and thin, with dark skin and green eyes. Eyes that were staring directly at him.

“You alright, mate?”

If the prisoner could hear him, they didn’t respond. Tyson frowned, his eyes scanning the cage. There was nothing in it, no bed or toilet or even a chair. The prisoner was just sitting on the floor, legs folded beneath them, staring back at him.

“This is fucked up…”

“This is fucked up,” the prisoner repeated, in a perfect imitation of his own voice. For a moment, he actually thought he’d just heard a recording played back, but they continued speaking. “You can credit Mason for this.” They were still speaking in his voice.

“So you can hear me. How are you copying my voice?”

“It’s not hard,” the prisoner replied. “Be careful. The golem is nearby.”

“The what?”

“She calls herself Haylie,” the prisoner said. “She’s not human.”

“Alright…”

“Do not trust her,” the prisoner insisted. “She is more dangerous than she appears, and capable of infinite cruelty.”

“Whatever you say, mate,” Tyson said, looking nervously around the room. Whoever this was, he knew he definitely shouldn’t have been talking to it. “Look, I gotta—”

“Don’t talk to that thing,” Mason said from the doorway, surprising him.

“You’re back?” he asked, backing away from the mirror. As he turned to look at his employer, he noticed a harrowed look to the man, like the short trip had aged him many years.

“Yes, I… I need to get back to work,” he said. “I need to prepare.” He pressed a button under his desk, and the prisoner’s cell returned to a mirror.

“Prepare for what?”

“The creature,” Mason said, his voice strained. “The beast. The monster that will tear this world to pieces just to slake an insatiable thirst.”

“I’m sorry, what are you on about?”

“The Destroyer,” Mason whispered.

 

Next Week: Genesis

Part 1 – Deus Et Machina

Published by Snow on January 14, 2018

London, 2173 – 312 Years Before Impact Day

Charles Mason stood outside, waiting for someone to let him in. While he waited, he admired the architecture of the place, hands in his pockets, wandering aimlessly. It was definitely the sort of place he could picture himself working, if his application was accepted.

And why shouldn’t they accept him? His work was years ahead of anyone else in the field, promising to change the world forever. Who would reject a man who could single-handedly save the human race?

As his route took him back by the front door, there was a soft chime, and they slid open. He noticed the thickness of the door, deceptively heavy-duty, and approved. Security was important, and he appreciated the combination of aesthetic and function.

A man walked out through the door, slightly older than he was, with a sort of gentle handsomeness and inquisitive brown eyes. Mason smiled automatically at the man he recognised from photos, James Buttersworth, owner of the facility.

“You must be Charles,” James greeted him warmly, offering his hand. Mason took it, feeling a slight tingle as their palms touched.

“I hope I’m not too early,” Mason replied, the reflexive smile still on his face.

“Not at all. I’ve been looking forward to showing you around.”

Good sign. They were taking him seriously, genuinely interested in supporting his research.

James stepped aside, allowing Mason to enter the facility. The two of them walked together, at a casual pace, as James talked about the features of the facility, and the laboratories contained within. The deeper they got, the more excited Mason became. As far as he was concerned, the place was perfect.

Security far above anything he’d seen anywhere else. Access to resources he’d never imagined possible. Complete privacy and secrecy. State of the art technology. It was almost too good to be true.

“This is the empty lab,” James said, once they’d looped all the way around, and arrived near the entrance again. “Does it look big enough?”

“Plenty,” Mason replied, without a moment’s hesitation.

“It’s yours, then,” James said.

“Just like that?”

“Well, there’s paperwork to fill out, of course. But if you want to work here, you’ll find our doors open.”

“Why?” Mason asked. “You haven’t even asked about my work.”

“I’ve been paying close attention to it,” James replied. “It seems the perfect complement to my own. To be honest, I never expected to find anyone interested in the same work as me, let alone with the level of innovation and genius you’ve been applying. It’s not just interesting, it’s exhilarating.”

“That’s… beyond flattering,” Mason said, astonished. Buttersworth was an idol, an inspiration. The opportunity to work in proximity to him had felt like a dream come true. For Buttersworth to take an interest in his work, to praise it so highly…

“To be perfectly frank, I was planning on demanding to see the prototype before making the offer, but… Well, I think it would be a mistake to risk letting you walk way.”

Buttersworth smiled at him, a staggeringly sincere smile that caused a flutter in Mason’s heart.

“I… I would love to show you what I have, of course,” he said. “I would be honoured if you would give me an honest appraisal.”

“And I absolutely will,” Buttersworth said. “Just know that it isn’t a condition of entry. Now, let’s get the logistics sorted, shall we? Let me introduce you to the lifeblood of this facility.”

Mason just nodded, still overwhelmed. Buttersworth tapped his watch, and a few moments later, the elevators opened. A young woman stepped out, fair-skinned with long auburn hair and intense yellow eyes. She walked over to them, and Mason couldn’t help but to notice a weight to her motion that seemed strange, almost… inhuman.

“This is Haylie,” Buttersworth said, introducing her. “She’s the logistical supervisor of the facility, and… I suppose a kind of communal assistant? There’s very little she can’t do.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” she said, extending a hand to Mason. He shook it, surprised by the weight and strength of her grip. She had a pleasant, American accent. “I’ll help you get set up.”

“I’ll leave the two of you to it for now,” Buttersworth said. “But Mason… Uh, Charles, would you like to get dinner tonight? I feel as though we have a lot to talk about.”

“I’d love that,” Mason said. “Thank you, uh…”

“Call me James,” he said, repeating the same sincere smile. The effect wasn’t diminished the second time.

* * *

It took almost no time for Mason’s lab to be set up. Haylie moved astonishingly quickly, having everything ready to go within days. Almost immediately, he fell into his work, overjoyed to have the opportunity to do so. Everything felt perfect, in a way he hadn’t ever expected to feel.

Buttersworth… James, rather, was tremendously helpful. He came in practically daily, poring over Mason’s notes, offering feedback and opinions, and generally making small talk. They ate together once or twice a week, and before long, Mason really started feeling at home.

Haylie proved to be incredible, too. She was always around, and always available. Mason suspected she didn’t actually sleep.

Despite her introduction as an assistant, it was obvious she was brilliant. She knew everything he needed her to, confirming formulas, concepts and past studies faster than he could have looked them up. Why she wasn’t a researcher herself was beyond him.

He discovered why one night, after several months of work. He’d stayed back late, as was common for him. Haylie stayed with him, assisting as she often did. They didn’t talk much, but that seemed preferable for both of them.

All of a sudden, she looked up at him, a concerned look on her face.

“There’s been an intrusion,” she said.

“What? Where?” he demanded, looking around the lab.

“Front entrance. They seem to be headed this way.”

“How many?” he asked. “Is security on their way?”

“Just one,” Haylie said. “I’ve called security, but they won’t be here in time. This intruder is—”

At that moment, the entrance to the lab was blown open in a powerful but controlled explosion. Mason whirled, wishing he carried some form of weapon.

“Get behind me,” Haylie instructed.

“Are you mad?”

“This is part of my responsibilities,” she insisted, stepping in front of him.

A person emerged from the smoke of the explosion. Mason was surprised to see they looked young, with thin limbs and gentle, emerald eyes, dark skin and light hair in an asymmetrical cut.

“Who are you?” he demanded, but the intruder ignored him.

“It’s you,” they said, staring at Haylie. “I can feel it.”

“Security’s been called,” Mason said, irritated and slightly scared.

“Don’t care,” the intruder said. “I’ll be quick.”

“Stand back,” Haylie instructed, and Mason obeyed without thinking. “You’re not from DARPA,” she said, addressing the intruder.

“DARPA? No, of course not,” they said.

“Who are you, then? What do you want with me?”

The intruder shook their head.

“Not me. I’m not the one who wants you.”

“Then who?”

“The other me,” the intruder said. “My reflection. Glory.”

“I don’t understand,” Haylie said.

“Me either,” the intruder said. “But I need to do this.”

With that, they launched themselves at Haylie, moving faster than any human should have been able to move, with a grace that terrified Mason. From somewhere, they pulled out a weapon, a shimmering dagger, and drove it into Haylie’s chest!

Mason screamed, but Haylie didn’t even react. She just stood there, staring down at her chest. Then, carefully, she grabbed the intruder’s wrists, and effortlessly twisted them around, pinning them to the floor. As she turned, Mason saw her chest, dagger sticking out of it, no blood to be seen.

“What…?”

“Security is nearly here,” she said, seemingly unfazed by the wound in her chest. “Mason, I… Can I ask for your help?”

“Of course,” he said, his whole body shaking.

“I need you to lie,” she said.

 

Next Week: Nothing, From Nowhere

Epilogue

Published by Snow on January 10, 2018

Glory waited for a host. As good as it felt to be free of XO, they still needed a body. Here, in this world, they had no power. It wasn’t their world. They needed to be careful. Needed to take things slowly. After all, they’d never left their own world before.

Any host would do. All they needed was a conduit, a puppet they could use to collect enough power to stand on their own. A puppet they could discard once they were strong enough.

It would be a long journey, but they’d always been patient. Well, no, they hadn’t. They struggled with patience. That was why they were here.

It didn’t take long for a host to show up. The clumsy girl stepped on the shard of mirror, and just like that, Glory was inside her.

She’s perfect. Better than perfect.

The girl was filled with the desire to be different. She longed for a different face, a different form. She wanted to change. She wanted what others had. Immediately, Glory crafted the face the girl wanted. They knew how to tap into that need, how to guide this girl to gather what they needed.

In seconds, they comfortably filled the body of the girl. They didn’t have the power to control her, not yet. That was okay. They didn’t need that yet.

The girl approached a woman, run through by a metal bar. The woman was beautiful, powerful, and to Glory, familiar. The girl wanted that beauty, that femininity. Glory wanted that power. As the girl stared, Glory reached out, touched the woman. Took what they needed. Not much. Just enough to fill the girl with power. To change her, like she wanted.

It was over a month before Glory had the strength to do anything again. Before then, they just waited, and watched. The girl was unconscious for most of it, which gave Glory the chance to sift through her unconscious mind. Once she finally woke up, Glory prepared.

Finally, they were strong enough to reach out, just a little.

The girl looked into a window. There was just enough of a reflection to project onto.

“Awfully clichéd, isn’t it?” Glory said. No, not Glory. Envy now. Envy was the face they would wear, until Sabrina had served her purpose.

Until Sabrina could be cast aside.

 

And that’s it for Volume 2! Thanks for reading this far. I wasn’t sure if this format would work, setting an entire volume before the events of the first. I’m still not sure, honestly! But it was important to me that the volumes each have a different feel, and focus on very different events. Besides, it’s fun to mess with the idea of linear storytelling. After all, Impact Day isn’t a linear story. Anyway! As always, if you want to support the work I do here, you can jump on over to patreon and give me a dollar or more monthly. It means a lot. Also, you can buy the eBook of this volume, which features not one but two bonus chapters that didn’t get published online. 

Next Week: We’re jumping into another mini-volume, just like Roxie! This one is called Glory, and I think you’re going to love it a lot.

Bonus – Inviolable

Published by Charlie Farrow on January 3, 2018

Charlie, Impact Day

I didn’t know where I was. Nothing around me felt real. It wasn’t darkness, it was just… nothing. Void. Absence.

My bedroom? Similar, but wrong. Not quite what I remembered. Or rather, perfectly what I remembered. Not the reality. A fake.

“Charlie,” a voice whispered. I turned.

It was standing there, dark and hulking, insubstantial but very present. Destructive energy radiated from it, hot and cold and vibrant.

“What the… Where am I?” I asked.

“Inside,” it said. Great. That doesn’t answer anything.

“And you are…?”

“The Destroyer,” it told me.

“That’s some title,” I said, looking around. It was the only real thing here.

The creature seemed amused. It moved closer, without any physical motion. It was simply closer.

“You’re not as intimidated by me as I’d have expected,” it said.

“I get that a lot. I guess I forgot how to be intimidated this past year.”

“Perhaps you don’t understand what I am,” it said.

“I know you’re a part of me,” I said, taking myself by surprise. I did know that, but how?

“No, Charlie,” it said. “You are me. Just another in a long line.”

I tried to wrap my head around that. I couldn’t quite manage it. Rachel would have understood it, but Rachel wasn’t here. Nobody was here, except me.

“You’re the reason I’m immortal,” I said, again without realising I was going to speak.

“You’re not immortal,” it said, trying to correct me. Then, it corrected itself. “Or, you weren’t. What you were was inviolable. You would have died of old age.”

Inviolable. I liked that.

“What changed?” I asked. “Wendy’s blood?”

“It’s what was in that blood,” it told me. “You should never have brought that here.”

By here, I instinctively knew it was referring to the void we both occupied. It meant I should never have brought it inside myself.

I looked down. There was a shard of broken glass on the… well, it wasn’t ground. But it was what I was standing on. And the shard, it wasn’t glass. It was a mirror.

“What am I looking at, here?” I asked, not particularly concerned.

“Heresy,” it said, in a tone that sent a chill down my spine.

“Cool,” I said, though I didn’t feel it.

“Charlie, you’ve ruined everything,” it said, and for the first time, it sounded desperate.

“What, afraid of your own reflection?” I joked.

“You’ve broken the cycle,” it said, in a mixture of anger and pain. “You’ve corrupted us. You’ve brought the impossible into our world. Charlie, you—”

“Don’t care,” I interrupted. And in that moment, in that tiny, insignificant moment, it was true.

“What?”

“Do you know what the world out there is like?” I asked.

“Intimately,” it replied.

“So you know why I need this power,” I said. “It’s the only way to make a difference.”

“You really believe that… I knew there was something about you. I knew I shouldn’t have chosen you. I thought…”

The creature, whatever it was, shuddered, blinking in and out of sight. When I couldn’t see it, I felt unsettled.

“You know what, how about you start answering some of my questions,” I said. “Who are you? What are you?”

It didn’t answer. It just disappeared, leaving me alone, in an empty space, save for a shard of mirror.

I looked down at the mirror.

I didn’t see my own face reflected. I saw another face, an unfamiliar face. A face I couldn’t begin to describe, because it fitted every description, and none. It wasn’t changing, but it wasn’t static, either.

It grinned.

 

Next Week: Impact Day