Space is vast but even its darkness is relieved
when the ship I ride crossed the ecliptic.
My enemy’s home appeared and hope cleaved
despair; my vengeance, apocalyptic,
long-promised, is delivered. Destiny
shines golden upon me from alien
suns who watched me rise from ignominy
to a conqueror of barbarians.
Yet my thoughts drift back to the home I left
when my bride jilted me for another.
I have more than her treachery and theft
to revenge. They also tried erasure.
But from reptilian doom and a fanged death,
I was snatched to bring my foul captors death.
Nothing else matters except the warheads aimed at the blue crescent rising and the fire flowers blooming in its upper atmosphere. I sing along to the metallic symphony of an old earth song, headbanging as my enemy explodes.
The guns are silent. Escape pods pepper the sky but I’m staring down at my dead savior and his metal skin reflects the conflicted sky. Instead of enjoying my victory or heading down to the surface to ensure I routed the right foe, I’m stuck investigating a murder. Who’s done this? Why kill a robot–especially one so skilled in combat?
My hands curl into fists while at my side, Havoc’s on point. His sniffer’s sampling the air, parsing it for scents. There’s nowhere for the murderer to hide. And if Ilium slips away while I’m searching for his murdering hide, I’ll flay him alive and drop him into the reptilian-run prison the dead android saved me from. Let’s see how long the murderer lasts with a million snakes doling out venomous kisses.
“Have you found a scent for me?” I ask my shaggy pet.
I still have no idea what he is other than quadrupedal and a lover of bacon. Havoc shakes his head and a forelock shifts revealing a big blue eye. I resist the urge to melt at the adorable sight and hold fast against his cuteness and tight to his leash.
Off Havoc goes and I with him, half dragged in my thanks to my convalescent state. But the scent havoc caught was bacon sizzling and I sigh as he drags me to the kitchen.
It’s going to be a long hunt. Perhaps I too should pick up a snack. Havoc agrees and jumps up with both paws on the counter, growling. The chef turns and levels a gun at me.
“For Ilium!” she screams pulling the trigger.
Havoc’s over the counter in a flash of gray as I dodge the evil green rays. Slamming into a table and two chairs, I go down in a sprawl, hurting. Something pale intervenes and a wet crack ends the quarrel. Havoc bathes my face as darkness embraces me.
Snakes slither over my carcass. I wake to a Halloween masque in hell.
The hunt for Ilium continues?
A Month of Mini Writing Challenges: Day 26-30