In destruction of Prick and Giraffe’s cutesy little ship, I realized something I’ve never thought of before. I may have been a nerd on Earth–Jack ‘Daniels’, with a high GPA at M.I.T studying theoretical physics, yet little to none in achievements regarding physical matters, which is ironic considering the fact I was studying engineering and theoretical physics. Even worse, I can’t remember my real last name, so I named myself after an alcoholic beverage.
But here? I’m a legend. I slaughtered a six legged Panther, destroyed an alien dropship like a two year old with a tower of legos, and then broke the arms of an alien soldier like the twigs in my Grandma’s backyard. All this, and I’m studying theoretical physics? I deserve a crowbar and a gravity gun for my efforts.
Instead what I got was a gutpunch from a body builder who thought it’d be fun to compress himself into a ray of energy, and a nice 10ft flop onto my face. On the bright side, I now know that I am Death–destroyer of worlds, conquerer of the underworld! Actually, no. I’m still just some washed up wimp who got cannonball’d into an alien planet with only a pipe, some shorts, and a ripped t-shirt. But it’s the thought that counts and in all honesty, there’s quite some thought here.
When I came to, I weakly lifted my head off of the grass and turned, discovering that the dropship had been turned into a smoldering mess of metal and sparks. Components, engines, and scraps lay strung across the plain. At first glance, it was as if somebody shrunk a Naval Destroyer and then let Zeus hurl it like a thunderbolt. Another thing I noticed–Prick was gone. I guess he survived that… somehow. That was the least of my concerns right now. I clamored to my feet and gazed around widly, until my eyes set on Floyd’s Tomb. I took a step forward, and as I did, I was filled with a searing pain in my stomach, which forced me to clutch it with my left, non-dominant hand. The stumbling mess that was me managed to make it to Floyd’s Tomb in about 45 seconds, and then only got through after about 10 full minutes. This time, I wasn’t dragging a scaley Panther/Lion, so it was somewhat faster.
Coming out of Floyd’s Tomb, I began to observe my environment a little closer. There were trees on three sides of the crashed ship that Squiggles had once conmandered, and to the left of it was the entrance to Floyd’s tomb. On the side that WASN’T surrounded in trees, I saw the drop off of a hill, and in the distance, a wide, vast jungle. Directly opposite to our hill was another with what was perhaps the tallest tree I had ever seen in my life. It was so tall that I named it the Sears Tree, in reference to Sears Tower in Chicago. It was at least a mile tall, and had the diameter of at least half a mile. In other words, it lived up to its name.
While I was distracted in ‘oooh-ing’ and ‘aaah-ing’ at Sears Tree, I heard a click from behind me, followed by a high pitched whirring. I turned around, and there was the giraffe, partially leaned against the ground, kinetic pulse pistol aimed right for my face.
“….why did you have to do this?” he whispered. His voice was wavering, and it if he were a Human, he’d probably be crying from the tone of voice he has. “Why did you take away everything from me?” Feeling brave, I stepped toward him. He barely seemed to react. I could see the life fading from his eyes; those missing limbs were certainly going to be fatal. “You took everything I had…” Then I remembered…. He was standing right infront of Squiggle’s ship! If he goes in there, providing he hasn’t already, I’m pretty sure that little Roswell gray couldn’t stand up to Sir Space Giraffe.
Immediately, adrenaline began rushing through me, and I vaulted forward in a zig-zag pattern. He opened fire and missed nearly ever shot, which only reinforced my hypothesis that aliens are weak. I was fast approaching, and at about 5ft, he gave up and started screaming. Another thing, GOD was I hungry. I leapt ontop of him and we fell to the ground, I could hear a crunch come from his body. He lifted the pistol to my stomach, but before he could fire, I grabbed his arm and did something both I and my stomach would regret. I chomped down.
Eugh, Space Giraffe is not a delicacy I know anybody would ask for. My teeth effortlessly glided through him, and a sick, oily blood filled my mouth. It was so disgusting I felt as though I was going to puke, but I held it in and let go of my chompers, falling back off of him in disgust.
Giraffe didn’t appear to be doing too well either. He began to hyperventilate, and in between breaths, scream as though someone had eaten his arm right in front of him. What are the odds of that ever happening, amirite? He began to shake a little bit, but I was fine with that. I could care less, he launched God’s fist into my stomach, and it fuckin’ hurt, so that’s my revenge.
I clamored to my feet, and realized that I too was out of breath. I stumbled toward the ship, and on my way there, spit right onto Giraffe’s open wound as a way of saying ‘fuck you, that rifle hits harder than you do’. I began walking toward Squiggle’s ship, and dissapeared inside. I was relieved to find that Squiggles was indeed alive and well. When I did, I passed out on the table. This whole ordeal was quite exhausting, and I had no want to participate in any further misadventures.
The next week was pretty simple; each day I would venture through Floyd’s Tomb and hunt some nearby animals, now armed with what appeared to be some kind of wrench, probably used for the pipes in Squiggle’s ship. The animals out here are pretty interesting. I only ever found two other Chainlions, and managed to incapacitate them pretty quick, drag them home, and tear them open. The BBQs weren’t anything to brag about, but they weren’t terrible. It was also during this time that I decided I needed to begin working out. Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, jogging around the nearby clearing, I was putting on some new guns. Each day, it got easier to hunt the nearby animals. In reality, I hadn’t improved THAT much in a single week, but I was definitely doing something right. Back on Earth, I hated my life. I had little friends, I barely visited family, and I was miserable. Or at least, from what I CAN remember. Here on Apollyon, I’ve never felt so alive. It was as though putting me through something I’d usually turn down in a heartbeat actually made everything much better for me.
It was on Day Eight of my survival extravaganza that things began to get a little interesting. I was out hunting, and managed to find one of these animals I think tasted pretty nice. They looked like deer, but had three eyes (like the Chainlions, and just about every other animal here, which I assumed was just a trait of a common ancestor). They were kind of a yellowish color, and had no fur. Another thing is that they were kind of common around here. I waited for it to take a drink from the pond before I came up behind it and dealt a paralyzing blow to the stomach and cut it open with a knife that Squiggles made in his weird 3D printer he recently got operational. As I was cutting away, I heard a rustle in the nearby bushes, and turned. There was a Chainlion crawling low, and he hadn’t yet seen me….
I took a moment to get an idea of my battle plan when I had an idea for a more peaceful alternative. I chucked the piece of meat a couple feet away, and the Chainlion turned, and after a few seconds of processing, pounced onto the meat. I was terrified, but I knew what I had to do next in order to get what I had in mind done. I approached, slowly, and he continued chewing the meat. After some short crouch walking, I was only three feet away from the creature. It was ugly, and deadly looking. If this suddenly sprung at me, I was for sure dead, but I held my ground, and raised my hand. It flinched a little, but I was confident in my objective. I began moving my hand toward it, and it moved its head toward me.
I never thought I’d pet a six legged, green, scaled Panther with the muscles of a Lion and three eyes, but I did. And we were bound to become partners in crime.
I named him ‘Ashes’.