The Stars Are Young. The Stars Are Old.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

The stars are young. the stars are old.

Submitted: June 09, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 09, 2018



Its name is Tk.  It rests against the slime embraced deepest reaches under methane bog rivers.  Nestled by fumes and amber bolts which shoot upwards from the abyss towards its crystalline algae cradle it winds its great cogs and gears, purifying its scummy cavities which gather the efforts of its turnings.  A dazzling cyan smear blooms in close proximity and Tk recoils, lashes towards the smear quickly envelops and consumes it.   Tk pushes out its wastes with a sonorous sigh and the algae decays by the sheer toxicity of the released accumulated disease.  Shooting up, breaks the surface of the great methane sea into fathomless violet galactic pools Tk swirls and drains toward the center.  The superdense blackness absent marble pulls it twitching erratic leaving traces scattered as deep gouges of glow against the vacuum pierced breathing pulsating glimmer  as minute shivers fold and threaten to break.  A broken horizon unleashes countless stars and emits roaring waves as shattering claw noise.  Tk hears and is repulsed by this unknown sensation.  Solidifies shrinking, whirls quickly toward comforting steely freeze far far away from the horror and newness.  Scum threatens to harden Tk forever and it alights upon a passing asteroid to soften and wind itself.  Turn turn goes its inner mechanisms and as it turns an unbroken stream of stardust spews with the escaping scum.  This is relief come only now.  Now is the moment.  Tk disperses as a garden dust sweeps in frictionless swirls draining away with cosmic breeze.  Comes to a hardened sphere which screeches photon fury encapsulated by a cloud filling the proximity with stormy revulsion spiraling Tk away  towards secret crevices of ultraviolet comfort.  Tk blooms eons and terraforms countless galaxies inside itself holding and releasing as Nebular winds seize its membrane dust skein.  Tk spirals away from itself and comes to a swirling point implodes in reverse enters back into itself.  Cuts into fractals and slips between the finest points of particles and worms itself toward its conceiving point: Raporti, inhabitant of planet Earth.


Raporti howls.  White foam glistening tints of translucent yellow bubbles blossoms from his mouth and he grasps fistfuls of his dense knotted hair yanks them out leaving his scalp raw and bleeding.  He raves at the sky that shines a chaos of sapphire freezing licks of dying star flame and at a thousand eyeball-sized floating spheres made of golden black soft fur.  He screams from a void of red dust wastes expanding on all sides frozen by emptiness and barren dryness. The spheres are gathered as a single teeming school and chatter a horrendous thundering call that rents Raporti’s mind into ragged fragments.  Endless saltwater streams from his pores and his eyes roll back into his skull showing only blood vessel criss-crossed white roiling as his body convulses and collapses to the stone-hard desert earth with a hollow thud.  His life leaks from his ears as thick crimson coagulate, he is wracked by shivers that clack his bones together.  The teeming mass of spheres overhead leak viscous toxic bright green as sideways raindrops which circles in orbits to each other and blend into one quivering rubbery wet colossus that breaks away from the atomic plane and enters one unseen by human eyes leaving a momentary nothing undulating in the sky that stays for a brief moment and then is sky again.  Raporti lays there drooling, bleeding, his gaze-less eyes withering dry.  His skin turns bluer than the sky’s flames and becomes tautly desiccated, leaking his bowels into open air the scent bringing many-legged squirming wriggling bright yellow-skinned tendrils resembling smooth sickly yellow finger-sized balloons full of bile.  They wriggle wildly as a squirming blur and move themselves against Raporti and slide easily into him where the source of foul attraction emanates from.  They act like a liquid and spill in a matter of seconds throughout the length of his entire digestive tract, tearing at his insides with their minuscule teeth.  Blood begins to hemorrhage as they tear into him releasing a noxious hemoglobin poison which sizzles and sears on contact instantly eats away and becomes a slimy acidic sludge that festers inside Raporti.  He lays there baking in the light of the freezing flame oozing down from the heavens which come as spurts of an apocalyptic embrace the sun turned supernovic loving the Earth.  No more cities are left.

Raporti was twenty years old when the sun turned blue.  He had lived in the utopian city of Damorra situated in sector Omega-BB Seuts in the western area of the reformed singular continental land mass known as New Pangea.  A millennium had passed since the Great Reformation when the continents had been joined together during the year of 3258 I.S. Humans had consciously focused as a species to coordinate as a single unit to great success.  Internal paradise for individuals was perfected and everyone was happy.  They had begun to explore the outer reaches of the solar system.  They landed a probe on the Sun.   The Sun turned blue as soon as the probe landed.  The spheres came then.

He had been at the pleasure center.  Many people had been there with him.  Green grass, bright sunny skies, people lounging idly and in an instant a tainted sapphire filtered light everywhere.  People looked about wildly and then up at the sky and saw the blue sun.  Pointed fingers and babbling and confusion then screaming.  Raporti saw the spheres, of golden-black hair, reign the skies as a massive teeming ceiling.  The horrendous chatter that filled everything and then so many around him convulsing and collapsing blood leaking out their ears strange sickly yellow centipede creatures he never saw before entering them.  And he had ran. Few were left in that time.  He had met some of them and they had ran aimlessly for some tormented years together.  There was nowhere to escape.  Some tried to burrow underground, but the chattering pierced to the Earth’s core. The spheres reigned from the skies.  Everywhere.  Everywhere.  And the chattering was unceasing.  Everyone collapsed eventually.  Raporti was the last.


Tk had found its home.

© Copyright 2018 Imit Zeha. All rights reserved.

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