eXistent: Life in Death
Under the sun of an alien earth, amid the hellish terrors of a savage land, Heck wakes to the perils of a hostile world.
[Part One] Alien Earth
An elegy to the war dead…
See me lying here, among the fallen; the fruit of inhumanity — in life, and now in death.
I bear the ill will of my enemy, destiny delivered unto me.
But, forgive me, for the decisions I made were not my own to make. My life, not my own to live.
I was a tool of war, to be directed as required. A follower of orders. A taker of lives — a bringer of damnation.
Lo, the journey reaches its end.
My only desire now, to be removed from this place in time.
To forget. To be forgotten.
All I ask: judge me as the child I was, not as the killer I became.
I’ve paid my dues.
Eyes Wide…
I awake.
My dry eyes are being boiled by the incandescent rays of a too-near sun. Have I awakened in hell?
A burning red sky looms above me and a hot desert floor beneath. My throat chokes on the dry air.
Around me, the bodies of war kin — their red tunics soaked in their own blood, their war-ravaged bodies a sorrowful sight. Some are half waking to this world of death.
Edwards, a friend from the front line: “Heck! I saw you die,” he splutters.
“As dead as I am, Edwards, here we both are.”
“Where…?”
As Edwards struggles to his knees, his wide eyes see the alien landscape. He too recognises a stark difference in the world that surrounds us — we aren’t surrounded by Crimean foothills any longer. I can only shrug my shoulders at the confusion knotted on his face, I know as little as he does.
Edwards labours to his feet. In the condition he’s in, he won’t be walking anywhere on his own — his shot-torn, bloodied clothes the only thing stopping his innards from spilling out freely onto the ground around him. He rests heavily on my shoulder, each borrowed breath more difficult than the last.
Is it typical for a dead man to take his wounds with him to the other side?
Mercy…
We need to find shade from this punishing sun.
I pity the poor bastards that lie around us, without life. Yet, maybe we are the ones who deserve pity, waking to this hell.
One or two others are trying to shake off their death sleep: Willows, a youngster, barely into his teens. The cannonball that led to his departing of the living realm hasn’t left him with much to wake to. A ghastly scene. Still, he tries to sit up, blood seeping from his air-seeking mouth.
The sound of a man drowning in his own blood is harrowing.
Mercy from a war brother will rid him of his pains. Rest peacefully, young Willows.
The others, if they wake before they become fodder for those huge things circling up above, I wish them luck. Edwards and me, we need to move on.
But, to where do we walk? In hell surely there can be no place for redemption.
Slowly, we walk on.
Where The Dead Can Die Again…
“Mountains…” They surround us. For as far as the eye can see, a barren dust bowl encased by claw-fingered peaks.
We haven’t walked far when Edwards’ struggle for breath brings him to his knees.
“I can’t go on, Heck,” Edwards whispers, his voice taken by the same thing that is stealing his life from him. He’s in no condition to continue.
“Look!” Edwards points a weak arm to the valley below.
Russians?
“More walking dead men.”
“Leave me, Heck. I can’t…”
This is where Edwards’ journey ends. I lower him to the ground, where his head limply drops back onto a dry rock.
What a cruel world, where the dead can die again.
A Soldier In Eternity…
Down in the valley the Russians are shouting incomprehensible warnings.
And then I see… “What in God’s name..?”
The Russians wade in on an advancing creature — a bear, perhaps? The creature is too big and powerful. Some of them are ripped apart by its huge, powerful claws. Confetti limbs spill across the ground in front of the creature as it scrambles forward in a berserker motion.
I am drawn towards the battle. A soldier in eternity.
First Contact…
Slipping down the gentle valley slope, I make my way towards the chaos, surprised by the hard beating heart in my chest, my eyes fixed on the unfolding clash.
The creature is shot at and stabbed by the screaming Russians, but it is unwavering in its offence.
It cuts them down… one, then another.
Out of the eight men that were standing, there remain just two. But those two fight valiantly against their oversized foe, quickly changing positions confusing the heavy-footed creature, weakening it with each attack undeterred by its colossal size.
The creature lashes out a large, claw-filled hand, ripping the head from one of the remaining Russians. But it too is now getting tired, dropping onto all fours as it receives more damage from the musket of the lone remaining Russian.
I pick up a sword and approach the animal from behind. Carefully, each footstep taken with held breath. Without another thought, I jump up onto the grounded animal’s back, plunging the sword into the base of its neck.
The huge creature crunches heavily onto the rocky ground, dead, throwing me down to the awaiting dirt next to it. I land painfully on a few jagged boulders close by.
Killing-field Companions…
The last standing Russian drops unceremoniously to his knees, exhausted.
He sees me, but he doesn’t see an enemy. Instead, his tired eyes show weary gratitude.
“What?” I point to the creature. It’s no bear. This creature is something far more savage, with its huge lean frame and bare flesh face with a cavernous sneering mouth filled with rows upon rows of large, sharp teeth; and the mink-like grey fur, far more delicate to touch than that of a bear.
“Ya-ne-znayu,” the Russian coughs out.
I don’t speak Russian, but his body language tells me he too is a visitor to this world, and as confused as I am.
“We go,” the Russian says in reluctant English. “No safe here.” He opens out his arms and looks around.
We do need to go.
But, where to? The top of the rise, where I awakened to this hell? No, we need to escape the sun.
Relative Safety…
Together we head towards a rock face that rises gently enough to climb. A cave just a few yards from the ground looks inviting. We share nodding approval. It’ll provide shelter for the time being, however long that may be.
In the relative safety of a small, shallow cave, the Russian falls asleep. No further shared words. His uniform, like mine, bloodstained — a tale of unfathomable evils, in this world and the last.
This Is Not The End…
[extract completed… buy the full story; available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/EXISTENT-DEATH-Adult-Fantasy-adventure-ebook/dp/B09GNY1K57/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2B4RHAIZZYDRB&keywords=existent%3A+life+in+death+paul+m+shaw&qid=1658922086&sprefix=existent+life+in+death+paul+m+shaw%2Caps%2C72&sr=8-1 ]
Paul M Shaw writes divergent-world, dark fantasy. eXistent: Life in Death, among other tales, can be found on Amazon, Waterstones, Smashwords and other top online retailers.
