The Devils Harvest: The End of All Flesh. (48 page)

The gateway then became unstable, and along with its twisted frame it started to buckle. The central ring also twisted as the outer ring grinded against it, with an ear piercing screeching sound. Sparks were flying everywhere, along with the sound of metal being contorted. The rings started to glow red, then white hot from the friction.

The white light from the gateway started to fade away. The outer ring then wobbled alarmingly. The large powerful clamps snapped free one at a time and ricocheted of the spinning sections. One chunk hit the ground close to me, half burying itself, sending up a plume of mud and steam. I could hear the sound of the rain hissing on its hot surface.

Then the outer ring ripped free from the gateway, twisting and turning over and over like a huge detached Ferris wheel. The spinning red hot metal struck the remainder of the collapsed farmhouse, ripping its way through remaining walls, more glass shattered, bricks flew, roofing tiles and wooden roof beams billowed up into a dusty cloud. The impact destabilized the turning wheel which toppled to the steaming ground. Falling debris started to rain down on top of it.

The fading light in the inner circle started to blink on and off, with the silhouettes screaming out in protest as their entrance was being closed down. A handful tried to pass through, but because the gate was unstable they flew apart, like a balloon full of red paint, they popped over the remaining, slowly spinning contorted inner wheel. Their deep red blood boiling on the hot metal, with acidic steam pulled along by the gates momentum.

I lay there, trying to comprehend why I was still in one piece. Only the clothes on my right side were smouldering slightly. Then I noticed a glowing under my chin. I struggled up onto my elbows and was rewarded by the sight of the amulet glowing green with an inner power.
Had it saved my life?
I could think of no other answer.

The rest of the gateway now faltered, gave way and fell backwards like a useless hunk of steaming metal that it now was. It crashed down with a reverberating thud, sending up more debris into the already thick laden air. Its light wavered and blinked out like a candle in a storm.

Movement caught my attention.

Smoker was still clamped down in his foot restraints, trying with all his might to get free. His one good eye locked on me. The remainder of his mouth was mumbling something over and over. Hatred and anger was boiling from him. But the clamps seemed to have distorted under the onslaught of what just happened to the portal.

Smoker’s clothes had been blown away. The skin that was left on his body was blistered and smoking, pulled taut over baked brittle bones.

Weren’t the four alien creatures in the pods, inside the now destroyed ship, their real bodies? How was he still functioning? In a last gamble had he transferred all his energies into this decaying form?

As he struggled with his clamped feet I slowly climbed to mine. Staggering slightly I made my way across the scene of devastation. I held my broken arm, cradling it.

His eyes never left me, and with his last ounce of hatred he wrenched his feet free. One of the bindings broke away; the other foot remained in the clamp. He made his way towards me on its stumped remains.

The amulet around my throat glowed brightly. But because of his heightened anger he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He slowly marched towards me. Lips continually moving, muttering some mantra only he understood.

I stood my ground, trusting in the power of the amulet that had saved my life moments before during the explosion. In a way the amulet had achieved what the old man had said it would, only in a more round about manner.

In one last pitch effort he leaped the distance between us, flying like a demon conjured from the fiery pits of Hades.

I stood transfixed, no longer having the energy to fight back. My arms now hanging placid at my sides, my chest rising and falling, just having the strength to keep myself standing. I couldn’t even feel my broken arm anymore.

He landed, his chest heaving with anger. Two skeletal hands came up and clamped around my throat, now squeezing away the last ounce of my life. Spots started to swim in my vision. My hands weakly came up to defend myself.

But he was consumed with anger and hatred. His one remaining bloodshot eye was wide and penetrating, watching my life drain away. The Cheshire cat smile plastered on his face.

Then I saw his features change. No longer hatred or anger, but confusion.

His face was turned down towards the green illumination that was originating from the amulet around my neck. The green light was shining through my tracksuit top. His death grip was released, and he started to slowly stumble back away from me, his remaining eye never leaving the light coming from under my top.

Then the ground started to shimmer.

I was either hallucinating from the lack of oxygen circling my brain or ghostly images were crawling from the soil. Hazy greenish white outlines of naked people started to climb from the bowels of the earth, as if ascending a ladder. Looking similar to the souls that were trapped inside the large soul’s tanks on the ship – the very ones I had released.

His eye continued to swivel in the remains of its socket. He turned this way and that, trying to keep all the figures in view. He was now inside a slowly shrinking circle; made up of the souls he had caused the death of, summoned by the amulet to reap their vengeance.

I fell to my knees, my palms flat on the wet steaming ground. The necklace having swung outside my top, now glowing with an amazing inner power.

The circle was closing fast. More wispy images joining the others. Souls emerging from everywhere. They simply walked out of the thin air, becoming solid, if that word can be used.

The hair on their heads was swimming about them, as if from an unearthly wind. Some were still crawling from the ground. Others walking from the remains of the trees, as if they had become part of the object. All heading towards him.

My eyes met smokers for the last time, pure fright now radiating from him. Looking like he was pleading for me to come to his aid.

Not
in this lifetime, asshole!

He then disappeared behind the wall of shimmering souls. All of them with outreaching hands, mouths wide as if screaming abuse at him.

A primeval scream issued from the remainder of his lips. He disappeared down behind the ghostly apparitions.

The smoke, steam and rain that was surrounding these strange manifestations started to move – the earth itself started to rise – a vortex of unbelievable strength started to spin around them. I could see a glimpse of his arm, trying to reach outside the consuming circle.

Rocks started to roll along the ground toward the now blurry green haze. Gravel and soil rolling as if it had become liquid. Everything heading towards this strange gathering of force.

Wind whipped around my face. Everything was being pulled into this strange vision. Large green flares shot out of the gathering, only to be instantly pulled back in. A blinding white light now issued from the centre of the ghostly group. They seemed to be spinning around him, along with the stones and soil. Then suddenly an ear-shattering thunderclap resounded across the whole area. A bolt of fork lightning flashed, hitting the dead center, it then spread out, like an exploding donut-ring of power, to engulf and wash over everything.

A warm tingling sensation spread over me, as the light passed through me. After it had passed my eyes had to adjust back to the dark night.

I climbed unsteadily to my shaking feet, and looked across to where the vortex had been. Now all that was there was a gathering of stones that in some abstract way represented a person. All the souls had vanished, as if never there.

The rain continued to fall and smoke continued to rise. The scene was of complete devastation.

I walked across towards the statue. One section was similar to an outstretching arm, trying to escape. The dead had had their revenge.

My head turned, trying to take in the complete scene. The corpses that littered the ground, as well as all the earth around, seemed to have been made into one huge crop circle, everything pointing towards the statue.

I felt light headed, everything catching up with me. My eyes rolled back in their sockets, and I fell forward, hitting my head hard on the ground, knocking me unconscious.

The Incomprehensible

I
felt my body go weightless. My mind waking with a start.
Was I dead?
I had achieved all I could, if this was death I would welcome it, embrace it with open arms. I was so tired. Eternal sleep sounded like a reward for everything I had accomplished.

“No, this isn’t death,” a familiar voice stated.

I gained control of my senses. I felt the hard cool ground beneath me. A slight breeze was blowing against one side of my relaxed body. Now my ears picked up a hubbub of noise, a background white sound.

I knew I couldn’t stay like this. I rolled onto my back then opened my aching eyelids.

I stared up at the highest ceiling I had ever seen. The chambers roof arched away in the distance, purple tinged clouds trailed around its open top against a light ruby sky. The chamber walls didn’t look metal or rock, more like a kind of organic compound, grown this shape rather than carved or built.

A loud murmur started to rise and the echoing sound of many shuffling feet.

I rolled onto my side.

I lay in the middle of a mountainous circular amphitheatre. A kind of open pit area with bluish marble flooring. I stared out towards countless circular sloping galleries of tiered seating sections that disappeared beyond my reach of vision.

I slowly climbed to my unsteady feet.

I no longer worn torn dishevelled, burnt clothing, I was now decked in majestic finery, a long golden reddish gown of silky material wrapped tightly around my neck, then billowing out into a long dress like gown that covered down to my feet. The material shifted in the slight breeze.

“Welcome,” echoed a resounding voice. A small figure of an old man stood on a podium, a dais that now detached itself from the seating area and proceeded to float out toward me.

It was the Indian looking old man again.

“We welcome you,” he repeated.

I felt like something was expected of me, but neither knew what to say or do, so I remained silent. Mesmerized at the surroundings.

“HERE,” shouted the old man, hands raised, and his white hair streaming around him as his floating dais circled me. “IS THE SAVIOR OF OUR WORLD. OUR PEOPLE.”

A thunderous banging and applause resounded alarmingly throughout the extensive chamber. It seemed to echo for ages before the small bent double old man raised his hands again to bring about silence. The vibrating chamber became silent and still. Silence engulfed me; the only sound that could be heard was the wind gliding around the outer walls.

Then the dais floated to a stop. The small man stepped down, with the aid of two small floating devices, and hobbled over to my side. He took both my hands in his. His hands felt weird, unlike a human’s hand, but I couldn’t understand why.

“How can we the An’nunakii people ever repay you, for all you have done for us?” Our eyes locked.

Was it a serious question?

I couldn’t find my voice. Everything was overwhelming me.

“Come this way,” he said.

I took one step and the surroundings blended together and washed away, like paint spilt into a fast flowing river, it was now replaced with a different chamber. This one was much smaller, about the size of my whole house, but still small compared to where I had just been standing. All that nestled in the chamber was a fireplace that took up almost one whole wall, with two simple wooden seats set before it. I then knew this was all illusion, the size of the fire alone would have baked me dry at a hundred paces, and here I was sat mere meters away and it felt like a simple heat, not a baking infernal.

“Once again you are right.” His finger pointed in my direction. “A sharp intellect for your species,” he stated. “This is in fact all inside your mind.”

I must have looked perplexed.

“Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s not real,” he said with a small twisted smile. “Reality is sometimes merely the way we interpret something,” he remarked.

My eyes wandered about the Spartan chamber, taking in what he had said.

“Your people?”

“Thanks to you they are going to be fine.” He gave me a long look; he knew I required more information.

“He – whose name has been banished from our collective archives – was destroyed by the amulet in the end.”

“Smoker,” I mumbled.

“Yes.” He looked into the raging fire. “He was the ringleader of the rebellion that split our people in two. He controlled them with an iron grip.

“Once you destroyed him and his triad of officers, their side deflated somewhat. Most came back to our way of seeing things. The rest were banished to the Dying Lands, until they see reason and return with their tail between their legs.” He saw the look upon my face.

“Ah, it might have only just happened on your world, but our world works on a different time frame. Our time is not linear.”

I simply accepted that as an answer. Then I thought about what they would use for powering their machines.

“Power?” I asked. He knew I meant the souls of my race.

“He had been harvesting for centuries, eons, now the truth has come out.

“There is a stock pile here that will last us for just over two centuries, your time.” His hand waved off the question he knew I was about to put to him.

“We understand what this means, the souls of your kind will still be working our machines. Feeding us. But once they run dry, so to speak, never will another human soul be used to keep our world alive. We have but two centuries to come up with an alternative source of power.”