If you have read my Snake and Noob stories you may think those are pretty dark but my new science fiction story is even worse. Set after the invasion of the Kritlons, a race of aliens so powerful, half the universe now belongs to them. The main character is Chris, who has a suicide mission to kill the Kritlons in his head...It is time for a Ratchet573 original story...

 

 

 

SUICIDE MISSION

 

 

 

Chapter 1: Hope, the only thing we don't have

 

 

 

Chris was thrown into a small room with a bed and a desk as the only furnishings. The alien creature who had dragged him all the way into the room walked over to the desk, the talons of his feet almost slicing Chris's leg. The alien pushed a button and a computer of a peculiar size and shape appeared on the desk. It was octagonal, and was flat. It was very large for a computer.

 

 

 

A keyboard appeared. It was a normal keyboard. The alien pushed Chris, with his scaly hand, out of his way and left the room. The door was closed and locked on Chris.

 

 

 

Chris looked at his new room. It had white tiles and white wall paper and a white ceiling, it was like a hospitals emergency room. The bed was lumpy and not very comfortable. Chris sat on it anyway. He looked at the computer. He had no chair to sit in and get onto the internet to see what was happening on Earth.

 

 

 

Chris was in the army. He was fighting to keep the Kritlon alien race from taking over the planet. But, he was captured. He had seen many things during that war that no man should see. Dead babies in the hands of crying mothers. People, their guts hanging out from their stomach, trying to say goodbye to there families.

 

 

 

He dismissed these thoughts. The war had destroyed Earth. The only reason he was kept alive was to work onboard the ship as a slave.

 

 

 

A bell rang. Chris looked up at the door and an alien blob told him that it was recreation time. Chris was brought to a small, rectangular room, full of gym equipment. Ten other slaves were there, doing all sorts of gymnastics. Chris went to the weights and started lifting them. Once the blob left and locked the room the slaves all huddled together.

 

 

 

"I can't believe we have been caught by these aliens!"

 

 

 

All the slaves nodded there heads.

 

 

 

"They have only twenty men in their army but have wiped out the earth. We are probably the only survivors of the massacre."

 

 

 

Chris looked at the rest of the slaves.

 

 

 

"I will not stand to be used as a slave. We need to find a way to kill them, no matter the cost." Chris said this the best he could. Images started flashing into his mind. His wife.His son. His family. His friends. His life.

 

 

 

His life. This is what it leads up to. Him becoming a slave. Him having to watch people die. Him having to walk through the blood soaked streets of the aliens last massacre. He wanted to kill himself. He had nothing else.

 

 

 

Kill himself. Yes, do that. Be a wuss. Don't see what God has in store for you just go kill yourself. Negative thinking is always good. So your going to be one of those aliens victims. Go ahead, kill yourself.

 

 

 

No. I am not a wuss...I just

 

 

 

You just what? You will find a way to defeat the aliens.

 

 

 

No! They are to powerful

 

 

 

Negative thinking Chris. Jesus you are becoming a mental breakdown.

 

 

 

I wonder why.

 

 

 

Why?

 

 

 

Because,my families dead. My friends. What about that?

 

 

 

Your friends? In the army you dont make friends because you know they have a large possibility of dying.

 

 

 

Shut the hell up...

 

 

 

The bell rang and the blob brought everyone to a small dinghy room. It had a table in it and some random scraps of food on broken pieces of china.Chris ate all the potato chips and ham sandwiches he could and then was escorted to his room.

 

 

 

The lights were turned off and Chris thought that meant it was bed time. He tried to sleep on the lumpy bed but it took him an hour to find a comfortable position. Then, the dreams

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

"Soldier, god bless you..."

 

 

 

The old man was bleeding everywhere. He fell into Chris's hands, dead. Chris set him down and took out his machine gun and put a new clip into it. He ran down the street.

 

 

 

A woman screamed for him. He stopped and saw that she had a black and shriveled up looking baby in her hands. she pointed at a building.

 

 

 

Chris walked inside to see his family having pleasant conversations. Then, he saw an alien jump through a large window and shoot them all. Chris felt their hot blood splash against his face.

 

 

 

"NOOOO!" He yelled. He was knocked out by the but of an aliens pistol.

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

Chris woke up and breathed heavily.He got up and went to the computer. He was not going to be able to go to sleep for a long time, not until he can dismiss the thoughts of the war...

 

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

 

 

Comments? Post them

It was...not serouis...

 

I just didn't feel it happening to me. I felt that maybe it was something that I could understand but it didn't envoke feelings...

 

Otherwise it wasn't that bad...

 

On the whole it felt like it was missing some key element...something that stems from writting what you know and what you have experianced. And it was just lacking here...The closest I ever managed to get to it was when I wrote release. I just let all the racist thoughts I had control my hands and write what the characters would be thinking if that was what they had, in their whole mind.

 

It was draining and I was playing on emotions I already had but didn't use....well alot...anyway.

 

I just had to block the parts of me that gave a good reason not to hold those feelings.

 

When I try to write about loss, I can't because I have not lost someone close to me, I don't have those emotions to play with...if you will. I obvouisly don't know if you do, but from what you have said in the story, I am guessing you haven't lost someone through a shooting. So...

 

I wouldn't give up on it, I would just try to sit down and build the character over your own character and forget how you would react or feel, and fill yourself with this new being.