“Where you going?” Alex’s stepmom asked as he lurked out of his room, past the stack of cardboard boxes. He pulled his hood up over his head without the slightest glance in her direction. “Be safe!” she shouted while cramming another handful of potato chips in her face, eyes affixed on the television set flickering on top of an unopened box. 

The storm door swung shut behind him. He crossed the yard and ducked under the caution tape that served as a barrier from oncoming trick-or-treaters, and disappeared into the twilight of the evening. 

Tucked just out of sight, a group of high school kids huddled in the woods, their eager eyes fixed on the colorful swarm of costumed children roaming the street. “Yo, look at the guts on that zombie kid, that’s actually wicked, man,” said Tony. 

“That costume’s pretty sick too, the headless clown over there!” Tyler pointed out a few houses down. “Dawg why’d all we get was pillow cases and sheets for costumes growing up?” He laughed.

“Cuz yer mama didn’t love you, dipshiz,” mocked Stacey with a mean smirk.

“She did too,” mumbled Tyler in timid defense.

“Morons!” shrieked Cam. “Shut up, here he comes.”

“Who, Cam?” asked Tony.

“The new kid, you idiot,” snapped Stacey with a roll of her eyes. 

Alex stopped at the street sign on the corner of Giant Oak Road and Mulberry Avenue. 

“Pssst,” whistled Cam. “Up here!” Alex honed in on the noise and climbed up the barrier into the woods.

“Hey, wussup guys?” said Alex with a cool guy chin-up toward Cam, Tyler and Tony. “How u doin’, Stace?” The words, cool as ice, gliding off his tongue with charming arrogance any teenage girl would go weak for.

Cam pulled a carton of eggs out from a black knapsack and shoved it into Alex’s gut. “Let’s cut to the chase,” he said. Alex took the carton in his hands, popped open the lid and inspected all twenty-four eggs that were surprisingly in perfect condition. “You see our victims down there?” started Cam. Alex nodded, unphased. “Hit one!” he said nonchalantly.

It was the time-honored tradition of egging, a mischievous act that had been passed down from generation to generation. A step above toilet paper and two steps above shaving cream.

Alex was the new kid in school, but it wasn’t his first time around the block. His family moved around a lot for his dad’s job so he had developed the habit of mixing in with the wrong crowd because he knew it wouldn’t matter what shenanigans he got into; he and his family would be gone, and onto the next sleepy town with the same hierarchy of lame kids before the season was out. And fortunately for Alex, consequences rarely followed. Besides, with all the yelling and bickering, it was good to get out of the house.

“Come on, Alex! Throw it. Don’t be such a wimp,” Tony sneered, nudging him playfully. “You’re the newbie, and that means you gotta prove yourself. Throw the dang egg!”

“Shut up, Tony, I’m no wimp. Who you want me to throw it at?”

An evil grin inched across Cam’s face. He leaned in, whispering in a sinister tone to Alex’s ear. “You know the rules, right new guy? It’s five points for a kid, ten for an adult, and a whopping twenty for an old person. Whether they’re trick-or-treating or handing out candy, it doesn’t matter. Anything goes.”

Alex glanced down at the white egg in his fist. He knew it was wrong, but he didn’t really care. He was numb at this point and just searching for something that could make him feel.

He wound up his best pitcher’s throw and hurled the egg. It struck an unsuspecting target—a petite old lady with white speckled hair, handing out candy from a jack-o’-lantern-shaped bowl on her porch. The egg hit her square in the chest, and she let out a startled cry, stumbling backward. Candy suspended like snowflakes in the air.

Suddenly, time seemed to slow as Alex watched in horror. The old lady clutched her chest, her face contorted in pain. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Panic erupted among the trick-or-treaters who had been visiting her house.

The high schoolers hidden in the woods were paralyzed with fear, their mischievous grins replaced by wide-eyed terror. They exchanged frantic looks, realizing the gravity of what had just happened. The Halloween night had taken a dark and sinister turn they had never anticipated.

Sirens wailed in the distance, approaching rapidly. Cop cars and an ambulance raced down the road, their flashing lights casting eerie shadows through the trees. Panic surged through Alex’s veins as he turned and fled with the others, desperate to escape the consequences of his thoughtless act. They sprinted through the woods, their sniggering laughter from moments ago replaced by fear and remorse.

Alex’s heart hammered in his chest, and his vision blurred with tears. He felt a searing pain in his side as he ran, but he couldn’t stop. And then, in a moment of cruel irony, he tripped over a gnarled root, tumbling headlong into the darkness. His world went black, and the last thing he heard before everything faded away was the distant sound of sirens and screams.

As Alex slowly regained consciousness, he found himself in a strange and eerie place. The weight of his guilt bore down on him, his mind haunted by the vivid flashbacks of the old woman’s face—the transformation from a joyful smile to a gaping scream of immense pain. He clawed at his own head in a desperate attempt to make the haunting images stop. But the relentless regret and guilt seemed unyielding. His pounding headache escalated into a debilitating migraine, and his vision blurred as he writhed in agony on the ground.

Amidst the chaos in his mind, Alex could sense a looming presence, a large silhouette with ominous horns approaching. He mustered all the strength he had left to crawl away, but his energy had been whittled down to nearly nothing. Before he could escape, the horned creature reached him, seizing Alex with a powerful grip and tossing a cloth over his head.

Darkness enveloped him, disorienting and frightening him further. Barely conscious, he felt the creature’s massive steps carrying him deeper into the woods.

As he was carried along, Alex overheard a hushed exchange between two voices, both filled with concern. They didn’t sound like the menacing creatures he expected. Instead, they seemed caring and compassionate, which only deepened his confusion.

A woman’s voice, gentle and soothing, said, “Don’t be frightened, young one. We must help ease that terrible headache of yours.” What had he stumbled into? He struggled to make sense of his surroundings as the cloth shrouded him. Finally, the woman announced, “I’m removing the cloth from your head now, dear.” As the fabric was lifted, Alex blinked against the sudden burst of light. He gasped as his eyes adjusted to the scene before him. The figures were unlike anything he had ever seen before.

An elderly couple stood before him, but they were definitely not human. The old man had a jack-o’-lantern head, with a flickering candle inside that illuminated his eyes and mouth. He looked kindly at Alex, despite his eerie, rotting appearance. The woman had the face of a black cat, but she was very old, her fur matted and turning silver and gray. The horned monster, whom Alex now saw in the light of a quaint little cottage, appeared bright red, like some sort of devil. He nodded to the elderly couple and then turned to Alex. “I must go now to collect the rest. But you are safe with Mr. Jack and Ms. Hazel for the time being.”

Alex had no idea what that meant, but his curiosity was piqued amidst his lingering dread and confusion. He gazed up at the strange couple and stammered, “Wh-where am I? Who are you?”

The old man with the jack-o’-lantern head smiled warmly. “You’re in Halloween Town, my boy. My name’s Jack, and this here is my beloved Hazel.”

Hazel the cat purred softly and nodded, her vermillion eyes filled with empathy. Jack continued. “You’ve come to us for a reason, Alex, my boy. Halloween Town is just the place you ought to be. You know, folks say I’ve got a face only a ghoul could love, but it’s what’s inside that counts, isn’t it? And inside this cranium, you’ll find the wisdom of countless All Hallows’ Eves.” 

Jack knocked on his hollow pumpkin head and stared Alex down with illuminated triangle eyes and a jagged grin. Alex blinked speechlessly, his face twisting in ways it never had before. 

“I’ve been ’round the block more times than you can count the candy corn in a bag, sonny. Life ain’t no corn maze, it’s more like a twisted, enchanted forest with secrets in every tree and demons in every shadow. But don’t worry now, my boy, we’ll be here after you face ‘em. You understand?”

Alex gave a perplexed look. He didn’t understand. Not at all. 

“Here, we help those who have lost their way, and if all goes well, you’ll be flying right home like a crow scared straight. But you know how the old saying goes, my boy.”

Hazel finished his thought. “Yes, sometimes the only way out is through.”

Alex’s heart raced, his mind swirling with questions that he couldn’t quite form.  He watched, dumbfounded as Hazel prepared a cozy spot on a lounger for him beside the fireplace. He felt a strange sense of comfort wash over him. The roaring fire danced with a mesmerizing rhythm, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the quaint cottage. Hazel began to prepare an elixir. “For your headache, dear,” she reassured as she practiced her potion making with such deliberate craft.

She moved gracefully around the room, gathering various ingredients and adding them to a giant cauldron that hung above the fire. Her movements were poetic, like a soothing lullaby. She plucked some feathers from a pelt on the mantel and tossed them into the pot. Some lavender sprigs, a sprinkle of rosemary, a pinch of sugar, a slice of dried fruit or two. It was almost like counting sheep, and before he knew it, Alex’s eyelids drooped.

Hazel glanced over at him with a knowing smile and said, “Rest your head, Alex. I cannot give you the elixir just yet, but only after the process. It will help with your headache, but sleep will be the best remedy ‘til you’re ready.”

With a nod, Alex nestled into the soft chair, his eyes still trained on the dancing flames. The room was filled with a comforting warmth, both from the fire and from the sense of belonging, even in this strange place.

As Hazel continued to work, Alex began to drift away.  But he was suddenly ripped from his peace by her cry. “Ow!” she hissed as a reaction to a rose thorn pricking into the pad of her paw. In an instant, Jack, the old man with the jack-o’-lantern head, rushed to her side. He tore a piece of his unraveling sweater and carefully wrapped her injured paw.

Hazel chastised him gently. “Jack, please don’t run so fast, you know what could happen.” 

Jack’s candlelit eyes flickered with concern as he said, “I know, Hazel, but I cannot bear to see you in pain. It carves a hole in my side, my love. “

Alex watched this tender exchange between the two Halloween monsters, their love and care for each other evident in every gesture. They were old and worn, their features far from conventionally beautiful, but their hearts were genuine in their capacity to love and care for one another. 

Hazel sighed, her voice filled with affection. “Jack, be careful with your candle. If it goes out…” 

Jack’s voice trembled as he finished her sentence. “…I’ll die, and you wouldn’t know what to do without me.”

Alex’s heart ached as he observed their relationship. It was a love that had endured through the years, weathered countless storms, and still burned as brightly as Jack’s candle. In that moment, he understood that although they weren’t easy on the eyes, the real monsters weren’t the creatures of Halloween Town, but rather the rotten-hearted humans making a mockery of them back in his own world. And he was one of them.

His guilt returned to plague him for what he had done to that old woman when he struck her with that egg. Did he kill her? He wasn’t sure. His anxiety increased with the sound of heavy footfalls approaching the cottage.

The devil creature, whom Alex had first encountered when he arrived in Halloween Town, returned with several more human kids in tow. Among them, Alex recognized three faces that sent a shiver down his spine—Tony, Stacey and Cam. Fear weighed heavy in his heart. There was also a fourth kid; some younger boy in middle school who seemed to be causing trouble of his own that night. The devil creature cleared his throat, his deep voice resonating through the room. “Folks, we’ve got some newcomers. These are the ones who’ve been causing trouble in your world, but that’s about to change.”

Alex hurried over to Stacey and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “You good?” he asked her. 

“Yea. I’m okay,” she said in a shaky voice.

Hazel, who had been tending to a simmering cauldron, turned her attention to the newcomers with a warm yet firm expression. “Welcome to Halloween Town. I hope you are ready for what lies ahead, but you must first acknowledge your monstrous actions.”

Alex shifted uncomfortably, guilt washing over him. Although Hazel and Jack had been more than hospitable, he sensed a new air of looming danger and felt the need to protect his comrades the best he could. “It was me who did it, please, they don’t have to be here… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. It was just a prank…but I will pay for what I did. Please, let them go,” Alex begged.

The fourth kid, fists full of caramel chews, interrupted with a bark. “Hey! I’m not going anywhere ‘til I get my candy, I was told there’d be more here so…where is it, old man?” he aggressively aimed at Jack.

Jack, with his flickering candle eyes, stepped forward and addressed the troublesome newcomer. “Young man, your selfishness and cruelty has no place here in Halloween Town. And this goes for all of you,” he waved a crooked finger around the room. “In the pumpkin patch of life, you’re bound to encounter a few rotten seeds, but I’m here to remind you that even in the most chilling of circumstances, kindness remains the most potent spell of all. It’s simple really, if you open your heart up to it, but sadly – not all do.”

The devil creature, who had been observing silently, added, “You will have to learn the true meaning of Halloween if you wish to go back home.”

“Thank you, Astan,” said Jack to the red devil. “Would you do the honors?”

“Certainly,” said Astan as he offered a giant red hand to Stacey, encouraging her to trust him.

With a mixture of hope, guilt, and uncertainty swirling in the room, Alex and the others knew that they stood at a crossroads. Halloween Town offered a chance for redemption, but somehow Alex knew it wouldn’t be an easy path.

Stacey grabbed his hand and glanced back at the boys with a fearful gulp in her throat. Astan pulled her toward a clearing in the cottage where there was nothing but wooden floorboard and a single candle sconce for light. He let go of her hand and gestured for her to stay put where she was, as he backed up slowly.

“Let her go!” said Alex, rising. But Jack stepped before him, and the carved smile on his jack-o-lantern face sank from jolly to menacing like melting wax. Alex immediately sat back down, and Jack’s face returned to its previous shape.

“Look into my eyes,” said Astan. And she did.

A moment of eye gazing and Stacey suddenly backed up, wide eyed and terrified.  She grew increasingly more fearful, screaming and yelling and floundering in a fit of jerking movements.

“What’s happening to her? Stop it!” said Alex, then looking to Jack and Hazel. “Make him stop whatever he’s doing to her!”

“Alex,” said Jack, “you see just as well as I that Astan here has done nothing to her. It’s the process, Alex. You have to trust it. Your turn will come and you will understand, but don’t interrupt her process.”

Alex shrunk back. 

“No!” said Stacey. “No, I’m better than that!” She then screamed at the top of her lungs. “Noooo!” And she collapsed.  

Picking herself up, she looked around the room to Astan, Jack, Hazel, and the boys and let a smile creep onto her face.

Hazel ladeled a spoonful of elixir into a mug and held it out toward Stacey. “Here you are, hun, this will aid you on your journey back home.” Stacey accepted the warm beverage without hesitation and followed Hazel back by the fire.

“Who’s next?” asked Astan to the four remaining. Tony volunteered and again the others watched in fascination. Nothing seemed to happen to Tony either, yet he cursed and hissed at the sight of Astan after staring deep into his eyes. But he, too, walked away seemingly calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, and welcomed Hazel’s mug of elixir to his lips.

The kid who wasn’t part of their original group went next. He, too, stared into Astan’s eyes, but ultimately faced a much different fate. Instead of fighting against an unheard voice, he began to laugh, loud and eerily.

“We’re losing him Jack,” shrieked Hazel with a worried scowl.

“My love, it is up to him now, you know as well as I there ain’t nothing we can do if he chooses to oblige them ghostly tarnished souls,” he reminded her gently yet sternly. Hazel gasped and grabbed at her scarf to shield her eyes.

The next thing that occurred took them all by surprise except for Astan who remained staring straight into the eyes of the maniacally giggling boy.

Suddenly, his laugh grew louder and deeper until it twisted into a voice much lower than the boy’s natural tone, and his face began to contort and twist into a grotesque form. Then his body contorted into a ghastly visage. He sprouted double the legs and triple the arms. He had become a nightmarish creature that Alex couldn’t label as anything other than a monster.

“What’s happened to him?” shouted Alex, mouth gaping. “You said to trust the process!”

“Oh dear! It’s such a shame,” said Hazel. “He let his stubbornness get the best of him. He wasn’t willing to battle his demons and accept that he needed to change his cold heart.”

“What’s going to happen to him now?” asked Cam who had been quiet the entire time.

Hazel responded. “He has become a demon of the night, dear. He will live on to torture innocent souls, but only in the deepest corners of their fearful minds. He has let his demons consume him, and he has chosen to become a thing of nightmares, and…” she paused for a moment of silent bereavement, “and that is where he will remain.”

Stacey clasped a hand over her mouth. “You mean, that could have happened to me too?” she yelped. The others stood, jaws dropped in disbelief.

“Only if your heart wasn’t willing to change for the better, my dear,” reassured Hazel. “But don’t you worry, hun, you did a fine job.”

Stacey turned to look at Cam and Alex with horror. “We’ll be okay, Stace,” Alex said shakily, not even with enough confidence to convince himself. 

Cam approached Astan next. “I’m ready,” he said, looking the devil in the eye. Although Alex was unsure at first of which way it would turn out, he was proud to see Cam walk off unharmed after the event.

“You got this bro,” a fresh-faced Cam encouraged Alex, patting him on the shoulder before joining Stacey, Tony and Hazel by the fire.

Alex looked toward Astan who was waiting patiently in the darkened corner of the room. He wasn’t too sure he would walk away from this. After all, he was the one who threw the egg that hit the old lady. And if he was being honest with himself, he chose her because she embodied what he couldn’t be at that time. Happy. Alex’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped closer to Astan, ready to confront the darkness within himself. His mind raced with memories of the old lady’s pain and the chaos that followed. 

As he locked eyes with Astan, Alex felt a surge of emotions wash over him; memories of his past misdeeds and the pain he had caused others. It was as though his entire life was playing out before him, and he couldn’t look away. He saw the faces of people he had hurt, the friends he had betrayed, and the opportunities he had squandered.

The voices of his demons, the nagging doubts and self-loathing that had plagued him for so long echoed in his mind. They whispered accusations and taunts, reminding him of his failures and shortcomings. Alex clenched his fists, determined to face it all head-on.

Astan’s eyes pierced through Alex’s soul, and for a moment, he felt like he was on the verge of breaking.

But instead, a newfound strength welled up within him. He remembered the kindness of Jack and Hazel, the chance they had given him for redemption. He thought about the love and care he had witnessed between the strange Halloween creatures.

With a deep breath, Alex pushed back against the demons that tormented him. He envisioned helping the people he had hurt, mending the past betrayals, and seizing the opportunities he had squandered. Slowly, the tension in the room began to ease as the other onlookers watched in anticipation.

Finally, Alex let out a roar of defiance.

Astan nodded in approval, a rare smile crossing his devilish face. “You’ve done well, boy.”

Relief brushed over Alex as he stepped away from Astan, feeling lighter than he had in years. He joined the others by the fire.

Jack and Hazel looked at the group with pride and warmth. “Here!” Jack said, offering something from his mangled hand. “These are for you to remember how far you have come and to know that Hazel n’ I are proud of you.” He presented a handful of spider rings. Unlike the plastic toy kind, these rings were made from a much sturdier material, meant to endure through the years ahead. “You have all taken the first step toward redemption,” Jack said, his jack-o’-lantern face glowing with approval. “But remember, the journey is not over. You must continue to grow, to change, and to make amends. It is the grin on the outside that spreads the warmth in your heart on the inside. You all have what you need within you to light up the darkest of nights.”

Hazel added, “I couldn’t have said it better myself, love, but the one thing I will say is that I hope you will all take these lessons to heart and share them with others as your journey continues.”

She handed Alex a cozy mug of elixir, and he sipped in the warmth. 

He wasn’t sure if or when he had fallen asleep, but when he awoke, he was lying in the woods, staring up at the moon. He sleepily pondered the face it made, its cratered skin reminding him much of Jack’s rotting pumpkin head. 

Alex got up and inspected his body for any injury. He seemed okay, but he just didn’t feel quite right. Was any of that even real? He reached in his pocket and pulled out a closed fist. Tightly enveloped by the warmth of his hand was the spider ring. Alex smiled, holding it in his fist, and made his way to the street. 

He emerged from the woods unafraid to face the consequences of what he had done. His face switched from red to blue as the police cars were still surrounding the old woman’s house. 

Alex gulped hard, and clenched his fist tight. The old woman was sitting upright on a gurney, surrounded by paramedics. Alex excused himself past the first responders and approached the old woman. She gave him a puzzled look.

Alex cleared his throat. “Ma’am,” he addressed her politely, “my name is Alex, and I threw that egg. I’m sorry to have done it, ma’am, and I truly hope you’re going to be okay. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just…”

The woman cut him off with an unforeseen act. She smiled sweetly, put out her old wrinkled hand, grabbed his fist tightly and shook as if she wanted him to open it. 

Alex furrowed his brow in a pinch, but bloomed his fist to reveal the spider ring nonetheless. The woman smiled and picked the ring up. “You are forgiven,” she said to him as she picked the ring out of his palm and slipped it onto his finger. It wasn’t until this moment when Alex realized the woman had a matching ring on. 

“Thank you,” said Alex as he stared down at the ring on his own hand, starting to realize the depth of what it symbolized.

“You are welcome,” she replied. “ Happy Halloween.”

Alex smiled and nodded, and turned away. He caught sight of Stacey, Cam, Tyler and Tony appearing from the edge of the woods. The four of them traded a silent exchange of unspoken words. Alex got the sense that things were going to be very different from now on. But better, definitely better. 

“What happened to you guys?” asked Tyler to Cam. Cam chuckled and darted a look at Stacey. “We’ll tell you when you’re older, kid,” Stacey joshingly teased Tyler. But now that Alex got a good look at him, under the reflection of the moonlight, he almost looked like that middle-grader that turned into a monster. 

Alex shrugged.

A brightness grew in his heart. Halloween Town, whether it was real or not, had not only saved him from the darkness of his own soul but had also revealed to him one of the best parts about being a human.

The post Monsters first appeared on The Writing Forge.

The post Monsters appeared first on The Writing Forge.

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The post The Jungle first appeared on The Writing Forge.

The post The Jungle appeared first on The Writing Forge.

I’ve been orbiting within this capsule around Sagittarius A for… well, I’m not sure how long.

Not because I don’t keep track of time, no, no. I’ve been here for eight earth days. At least that’s what my time piece says.

But outside of my eleven-hundred square-foot pod, it’s been millennia.

It was supposed to take fifteen years of my life, but I guess we haven’t quite reached that, now have we?

We’ve always known that black holes are strong enough to warp time, but we never knew the magnitude. There were sixteen failed experiments before mine; some of them were my dearest friends. But their names have been long forgotten, and only mine remains. For now.

My view has been the same every one of those days, until now. They warned me it would come, given that the Milky Way’s black hole has been leaking for thousands of years.

Outside of my window, I can see the navy back of my jump suit. The collar is sticking up, I should probably fix that. But who else is here to judge?

Behind the inverted image of myself, I see the solar system to my rear layered over the deep ebony of Sagittarius, almost like a thin layer of fil over a black background. The stars are swirling, lines of light all conceding to a single point like a twisted caricature of the perspective paintings from the fifteenth century.

But today was different. Today, it seemed to be moving, more than usual at least. The trouble comes from the blue tinge of the scene before me. I know I’m moving closer to the black hole, and though it may take seconds or years, who knows how long it will take for me? I’m sure that’s one of the reasons they’ve sent me out here.

Time is a peculiar thing.

I never met my grandchildren, and I barely even knew my daughter. She had taken her first steps just a few days before I left. Oh beautiful Melina. My mind and heart stretch in agony knowing that I never got to walk her down the aisle on her wedding day. But her grandchildren told me stories of her, how proud she was of me. I don’t think I could say the same about myself. You could imagine my surprise; I had only been on board this capsule for two days before I met my descendants who had been alive longer than myself.

They were supposed to deliver me supplies every week or so. On their calendars, it’s every hundred years. On mine, it could be as short as a few minutes or as long as a day. There’s really no way to tell, but I can’t complain.

After Dr. M. Nelson discovered how to use moscovium to make the antimatter-gravitonic engine, humanity has been able to travel across galaxies in a matter of seconds. I enjoy the visitors, but they never stay long. I had a gentleman come back once; Paul, was his name? We chatted for but fifteen minutes.

He dropped off some supplies, left, and came back just a few hours later. He was in his early twenties his first visit, but was coming up to a century in age the second time around.

He told me that those fifteen minutes cost him fifty years back on Earth Prime, as he called it. His wife died young, leaving his children in the hands of his sister-in-law. They were proud at first but, well… it’s hard to love an absentee father. When he came back younger than his own children, they looked upon him with nothing but pity. He managed to live through his whole life again, met another woman, settled down, had more children… but he wanted to come back to make sure I knew what these visits cost people. Asked me if I thought I was worth the trip, then assured me I wasn’t.

Of course, I never saw him again.

After each visitor, there was a surprising jump in technology. The first space suits, like my own, were large and bulky. Over time, they became slimmer and slimmer. Nowadays, humans have bred space survival technology directly into their genome. CRISPR was the catalyst, I believe. I was never a biologist.

Now humanity, or what’s left of it, has shimmering silver skin and golden eyes to protect themselves from cosmic rays. They can apparently metabolize oxygen, so they have no need for ambulatory tanks or space suits.

When first I was seen as a hero and pioneer, I now believe I am seen as a museum piece. These post-humans have snarky tones and speak strangely, like a foreigner trying their hand at a native tongue. They ask about my equipment, then poke and prod at it, giggling.

Time is a peculiar thing.

But now I must watch my time come to a close.

It started with the capsule jerking forward. The floor to the window, which was exactly three paces from where I stand, is now stretching off over the horizon. It reminded me of driving through Montana as a child, with its endless roads buffeted on each side by everlasting cornfields.

I put my hand in front of my face; flourishing it away from me causes it to move faster than I can perceive, yet bringing it towards me is like watching a jellyfish swim through molasses. Both instances take the same amount of time.

The blue tinge over the window begins to bleed out, coating everything in my capsule. I sigh; it is time to alert the others.

As I walk to the cockpit, the right side of my body is stretched and contorted like poorly made stereoscopic film. The left is shrunken and nubby, like a reflection in a funhouse mirror. I move normally, as if everything is normal.

Sooner than I had originally anticipated, I break the glass and pull the black-handled lever. Some of the shards fly to my right so quickly they puncture holes in the side of the space craft. Others remain airborne, leisurely moving towards the event horizon like seedlings off a dandelion.

Time is a peculiar thing.

I take the fifteen steps back to the bay window to watch my demise. The blue is now seeping over every portion of the vessel like water stains on an old textbook.

I stare at the onyx eye of Sagittarius and my own back simultaneously. Even in the stain of blue, the spot remained blacker than night.

The shuttle jerked again.

In front of me, the star formation behind me began to blur. The swirling light-vortex around the black hole begins to slow in my perception, an untainted white amongst the blue-like foam lining wave crests on the open ocean. But I can see what is beneath.

Time is a peculiar thing.

First my hand begins to itch, and it slowly works up my arm. One by one, my atoms are ripped from my body. It is surprisingly painless. The space suit leaves as well, displaying the inside of my arm like a cross-section straight out of a biology textbook. I was never a biologist.

I see this view from behind as well, watching my own demise in first-person and third-person at the same time.

Time is a peculiar thing.

I can feel the itch spread to my nose, and I know my time is almost up. As this tingling sensation reaches my brow, I look forward behind me just in time to see the silver-skinned post-humans arrive in their finest gravitonic ships. They seem to be celebrating. Celebrating what? My success? My death? The end of a bygone era? Or is it a farewell for the last remaining true human, a neolithic caveman in their eyes.

It hasn’t even been two weeks.

Time is a peculiar thing.

Time is a peculiar thing.

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