A.D. 2665
October 3rd
1:34a.m.
Somewhere in Space
Accounted by: Patrick Larko

I clutched at the wall for support as my mind tried to make sense of the impossible.
The flashing red lights above my head urged me to run back to the docking bays and evacuate, but my feet were rooted to the ground. My eyes burned with tears and my nose stung with the stench of burnt flesh and melted metal alloys. I felt bile rise in my throat as I looked down the hallway.
There were mutilated bodies and body parts strewn throughout the floor and walls. It was the worst thing I had ever seen. I couldn’t think. I could do nothing but stare at the horror in front of me. All I could do was stare at the faces of my companions. Their faces were frozen in ghastly expressions. There were many faces frozen in agony, some in anger, some in disbelief and others still in sorrow.
These people that I was seeing were my friends. They were comrades whose company I had gotten used to for a number of years. And despite my wishes, they were dead. But the worst part about it was that I knew I was supposed to be one of them. I should have fought alongside them. I should have died alongside them.
We had been attacked. Us. Forces. Members of the most powerful and structured organization in the galaxy. I thought our strength was unmatched. I was wrong.
I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind to call out to my Spirit Weapon, but I could feel no trace of it anywhere near me. How strange… This has never happened before… I released a more desperate summons but I sensed nothing but very faint traces of magic clashing far away.
Where the hell is my Weapon?! That’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is that I am unarmed in the middle of an invasion. Realizing what I had to do, I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, pulled up the sleeves of my shirt, and began looting the dead for supplies.
Within about 25 minutes I had gathered multiple grenades, a flashlight, a knife, two handguns, a gas-mask, and a first-aid kit. I picked up the gas-mask and began inspecting it. This particular mask was black and would cover only the nose and mouth. It was puzzling to work because it had no straps. I brought it close to my face and it automatically suctioned onto my face.
It felt terribly wrong to take the weapons from fallen soldiers, but at that point, instinct had taken over. Instinct and instinct alone is what kept me standing. Without it I would have broken down, fallen to the floor and sobbed.
Then there came a panicked voice from among a cluster of nearby corpses. “------ELP!!!” “WE-------------- BACK TO---------TOR 10!!”
The sentences were almost incomprehensible because of the static, but it sounded like a Lieutenant communicator! The sound must be a transmission coming from some dead lieutenant! I ran over to the bodies and began to search them for the blue stars of a Lieutenant uniform. As I was searching, the frenzied voice continued: “IT’S--------------! I KNEW --------- WERE RESPONSIB---------!!!” “------------SECTOR 10!!”
When I finally found the communicator, I found that it was owned by Lieutenant River. He was very dead. There was a clean incision running up the length of his back, slicing the spine. A quick and painless death. He was a kind man, but fierce on the battlefield. He must have been killed by a very skilled fighter. It was the way he would have wanted to go: Alongside his troops. In battle. I closed his eyelids and stood up; I licked my lips and spoke into the communicator.
“Repeat last message please. Sector 10? What is going on at Sector 10? Over.”
“W----- EED---------REINFORC--------FIGHTING”
“Reinforcements? Who are you fighting? Over.”
“FROM IN--------------------------------LP------TOR 10!!”
“Sector 10. Got it.” I hooked the communicator onto the collar of my shirt and began dashing down the hallway to assist whoever it was that contacted me.
This is my chance. I can still be helpful in this battle if I assist someone now. If I help now, I may be able to redeem myself a little bit.

I sprinted past scene after scene of death and destruction. There were bodies everywhere. For most of the bodies, however, it was impossible to tell if they were on my side or the enemy’s.
Who is the enemy anyway? What enemy could possibly be strong enough to kill Forces? Space pirates? No… It just doesn’t add up.
I finally reached Sector 10 but I still didn’t know which Zone the transmission came from. So I spoke into the communicator again, “Which Zone requires my assistance? Over.”
“Zone D soldier….. Hurry. We have many wounded.”
This time the voice was much calmer and more composed than earlier. The battle must already be over. I thought to myself with a sigh. I guess the only way I can help is by tending to the wounded.
As soon as I walked into Zone D I saw a man sitting up against a dresser in the middle of the room. He had a Lieutenant’s communicator on his lap. This must be the man that I spoke to. The strange part was that he was the only man in the room. I hesitantly walked up to him with my flashlight and handgun in front of me. I shined the light onto his face and I gasped. Blood was pouring from a long gash on his neck.
He must have passed out from the pain. He did sound a little too calm on his last transmission… Well, if this is the way I must contribute, I’ll do my best. I put my gun into the second holster and pulled out the first-aid kit. I knelt down in front of the Lieutenant and began unloading its contents. I pulled out a Hemo-Rillik paste to solidify the blood immediately. I squeezed some of the paste onto my index finger and was about to apply it to the slash when suddenly his head toppled over onto his lap. I fell back into a sitting position, with my eyes staring directly into the eyes of the dead man.
His eyes were cloudy and distant, and it felt as though they were looking right through me. The man’s head sat in the middle of his lap in perfect symmetry. It was a terrible sight, but for some reason I couldn’t look away.
I then heard the soft sound of feet landing on the ground behind me. I didn’t need to feel the blades at my neck to realize that it had been a trap. There was a man behind me, holding something with many small sharp edges to the back of my neck.
“Throw your guns down and stand up slowly,” the man said in a hoarse voice.
“Who are you? Did you kill this man!?” I shouted at him, tears appearing at the corners of my eyes.
“You are in no position to demand any answers out of me kid!” he said with a heartless laugh. “Throw the guns down or lose your head!”
I put my flashlight on the ground beside me. I tried to slow my breathing and concentrate on my objectives. I pulled my left handgun out of its holster and threw it to the side. It clattered somewhere far away as it hit the ground. Then, after a deep breath, I proceeded with the right gun.
I reached to my right side and put one finger directly above my right gun holster. With one swift movement I pressed a button on a flash grenade. I tightly closed my eyes and waited for the lights.
“Hold on. It’s too dark in here. I can’t find the hook on the right gun holster.” I lied as convincingly as possible.
“I’m gettin’ pretty impatient kid! You got three seconds!” he said as the little razor blades bit into my flesh. “One……. Two……”
I felt the flash grenade begin to vibrate, so I finished for him, “Three.”
There was a deafening bang and a blinding flash of white light. He grunted as he stumbled a few steps behind me. I opened my eyes for a split second to survey my surroundings. I noticed that there were multiple demolished tables and bookshelves, surrounded by various overturned chairs and desks. Most likely the Sector 10 study hall. I thought. In the sudden flash of light I was able to see the man as well. His raven black robes whipped about him as he fumbled with the weapon in his hands, trying to turn it on. I looked at the weapon and my stomach gave an unpleasant jolt.
A chainsaw?! Who the hell uses a chainsaw? I thought.
I ran up to the staggering man and gouged one of his eyes with my index finger that was still covered with Hemo-Rillik paste.
“Aaaack!” he screamed as he tried to rub the paste out of his eye.
“Burns eh? Yeah. I thought it would.” I coolly said as I pulled out my right handgun and picked up my flash light.
My opponent was blinded from the flash and also in pain from the paste so he picked up a metal chair and chucked it to where he remembered me being. It flipped and spun as it flew through the air. I deftly dodged the projectile by doing a handless cartwheel to the left. While in midair, I heard his chainsaw hiss and rumble as he flipped on the switch. As soon as I landed I saw him darting toward me, with his weapon held in front of him. His eyes already seemed to be adjusting.
I put up my gun and began firing off rounds at him. But no matter where I shot, he would slice the bullets with the spinning blades of his chainsaw. Shot to the knee: Blocked! Shot to the shoulder: Blocked! Shot to the heart: Blocked! I shot one last, well-aimed shot to the forehead before he got within range to strike me. He was so fast it barely grazed the top of his hairline. Then he was upon me.
When he got within range he bashed my forehead with the handle of the chainsaw and jumped into the air above me. I fell onto my back hard and looked up. He was dropping from the air, seconds away from slicing me in half.
I rolled to the right onto my stomach and launched myself into the air with my arms. I tucked my arms and legs together as I flipped through the air. The chainsaw whizzed past my face as we passed each other.
Once I landed I whirled around and he aimed a horizontal slash at my legs. I jumped above the strike and he delivered a palm thrust to my chest before I had a chance to land. The palm strike sent me slamming into a wall, knocking the wind out of me. I only had a few seconds to recover as he advanced towards me relentlessly again. He pulled his chainsaw back over his shoulder for a second horizontal slice, this time aiming towards my neck. I ducked low just in time, showering me in sparks as the chainsaw grinded through the wall above my head.
I quickly brought my head up after dodging his chainsaw and he grabbed me around the neck, choking me. God he’s strong… He lifted me into the air and brought us face to face. His breath smelled of cigar smoke, and his teeth were brown and rotting. I brought my gun up as fast as I could but all I saw was a line of silver and my handgun was cut in half, rendered useless. He was going to bring up the chainsaw again for a second slash but I had a sudden rush of adrenaline.
I first broke his grip on me by punching his elbow upward and breaking it. I then wrapped my legs firmly around his neck and heaved my weight to the right. I placed my palms on the ground and spun my body. I sent him flying to the other side of the room, having thrown him with my legs.
I saw him smash into a distant wall, his back denting the metal. I wiped sweat from my face with my hand then started looking for the gun that I had tossed away.
I searched the floor with my flashlight, inspecting every inch. I heard him shuffling around and groaning from the pain in his elbow.
“Now you’re really gonna get it you bastard!” He cried out in pain and anger.
“Good luck fighting me with a broken arm!” I yelled back.
He started laughing maniacally.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
Then I heard the sickening crunch of bones and muscles moving back together and mending themselves.
“Hehehe…just like new!”
Then I heard the rumbling of his chainsaw coming closer and closer. He threw his chainsaw! I realized.
I rolled to the side and the chainsaw flew into the wall, with half of it sticking out at about shoulder level. When I pointed my flashlight at the chainsaw I also noticed my discarded pistol under it on the floor. I reached down and picked up the gun. Then I reached for the chainsaw. When my hand got close to it, it began to faintly glow red. I smiled grimly. I thought so.
I could hear the man running at me from the left. He was breathing hard. I backed away from the chainsaw. I would have used it, if only it wasn’t his Spirit Weapon. It must have been, since it glowed red when I approached it. Strange things happen when someone touches someone else’s Spirit Weapon.
Then I started thinking strategy. This is gonna be a tough one. Here I am stuck without my Weapon, and it seems his Spirit Weapon heals him… I guess I’ll just have to hurt him faster than he can heal.
He roughly pulled the chainsaw out of the wall and began slowly walking towards me. He seemed tired. This will give me the advantage.
I stood, holding my gun and flashlight towards him and watched as he got into his battle position.
“You’re not too bad. But it’s getting pretty late so I’m gonna to have to end this now ok?” he said mockingly.
I only looked blankly back at him.
“Any last words?” he grinned.
While he was talking I had memorized his position and spacing in the room.
I flashed the flashlight directly into his eyes, turned it off and threw it to the side all in one motion. Then I pulled my knife out of its sheath as I ran towards him. He was caught completely off guard. For about five seconds, he would be completely blind. Five seconds was all I needed.
When I got to where he stood, I thrust the knife deep into his gut. He doubled over, as expected. Next I rolled over his back and while doing so, dropped two fire grenades into the back of his shirt. When I landed I spun around and shot the backs of both of his knees. Finally, as I rolled away from him, the grenades exploded.
He disappeared into a burning inferno of blue and white flames. He screamed for a few seconds, and then the screaming stopped. I turned around and saw the chainsaw glow white, which meant that the soul of its owner had ascended.
I took a deep, shaky breath. I then turned around and started walking away from his body and weapon. Then I stopped in my tracks.
There was a person standing about ten paces in front of me. It was dressed in a black cloak, with black bandages over its hands. It was wearing a hood, which concealed its face. I could make out two sparkling red orbs where its eyes should be. It began slowly walking towards me. There was something almost…familiar about the way this figure walked.
This new stranger looked in the direction of the charred body and chainsaw of its cohort. Then it looked back at me and whipped out a pistol from the depths of its cloak. It didn’t waste any time. It shot me directly in the heart.
The impact from the gunshot sent me reeling backwards, this one shot blasting apart my bullet-proof chestplate. I landed on my back as the bullet lodged itself firmly inside of my ribcage. Shreds of shirt and skin and muscle hung loosely out of the new gaping hole in my chest. I could feel blood begin to clog my throat; I turned over and spat out globs of it onto the floor.
With a shaky hand I reached down to feel the ripped remains of the left side of my chest. I brought my hand up to my face and looked at it. Blood webbed between my fingers as I felt my body gradually going numb. I slowly sat up to look at my enemy, and my vision began to falter. Everything was steadily getting darker, and I was no longer numb, but cold. I put my hands on the ground and tried to pull myself up more but my strength was failing me.
This is the end.
The figure pulled the hood away from its face and my eyes widened in disbelief. I felt an excruciating pain in my heart as my mind registered what my soul refused.

It’s him.