Beyond the Stars

Fallen Star

Round 7.2 Picture round

Sub-genre: Horror

Pictures used: 2.Blonde dressed in black,

4.Girl with spear,

5.Tick-man,

9.Portal,

10.blind creature

Word count: 3567

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Part 1

Dean's words hit me like a slap to the face. He may have uttered them several months ago, but their enormity had only just registered.

We are not alone.

Considering we were standing in the middle of a packed banquet hall, serving refreshments to a crowd dressed in their finest suits and flowing gowns at the time, I thought it obvious we weren't alone. I'm thankful we weren't, the phrase, "Not if you were the last man on earth" would be appropriate as far as Dean was concerned.

His disappearance came as no surprise to those of us who knew him. I've lost count of the amount of times he'd vanish into thin air, only to turn up a month or so later with tales of some big adventure or other. There was never any proof to back up his claims either. No holiday snaps, no video footage; nothing. Well there was this one time he brought home a plaster cast of a huge footprint that he pronounced was not left by Bigfoot as the place he purchased it from wanted people to believe, but in actual fact was made by a creature that followed him back from his travels. His tales were entertaining if nothing else.

What did come as a shock was his body turning up the sewers. They had me identify the body. As his closest friend - I'm still not one hundred percent sure what they were implying by that - and neighbour, I had to go downtown and take a look.

They warned me it wouldn't be pretty, but he stank. Seriously, gag-worthy rank. I don't think anyone can fully prepare themselves for something like that. Even through the Olbus infused tissue the usher gave me, I could smell him before they slid open the compartment. His skin was paper-white and his eye lids sunken deep into their sockets as if there was nothing behind them. The flesh on his upper torso was so shrivelled, the tattoo on his left pectoral looked more like a raisin than the small skull it was. At the base of his throat was the wound I had to assume killed him. A stark, bruised ring of pierced flesh stood out from the paleness like a neon sign. The contrasting purple reminded me of the first hickey I ever had, it too had sat swollen and bruised.

It was Dean.

The part after them covering up the body is a bit of a blur. I've a vague recollection of a detective saying something about a heavy caseload and getting to it eventually, but the next thing I know I'm sat in McDonald's with a steaming-hot coffee and a small, taped package sitting on the table in front of me. The girl behind the counter shot me an apprehensive look when I asked for a plastic knife to slice the tape. I've no idea why, it's not like I could do any damage to life or property with a piece of flimsy plastic.

It contained some of his belongings, the stuff he must have had on him when they found him: two sets of keys, a pocket notebook and a flashlight. I knew one set of keys were for the apartment - mine were identical except for the key fob - I had no idea what the other set belonged to. I idly flicked back and forth through the notebook, paying little attention to the content until I noticed the hastily sketched map with the word Ypsilon written across it. He'd mentioned the mountain a few times before and I wondered, for the first time since I'd known him, if his stories weren't complete bullshit after all.

Jasper arrived at Dean's place within ten minutes of my call. I told him my wild theory, and for some reason he didn't balk at the suggestion that we search Dean's place for clues to what he'd been up to on his trips away. The first curious thing we found was a title deed to land on Ypsilon. Bank statements showing large withdrawals of cash we didn't know he had, combined with receipts that Jasper said looked like excavation plant hire for a company in the same area that the deed was for, we figured he must have been digging for something on the property.

"What if it's gold? Or diamonds?" Jasper asked with excitement. "Maybe that's where the money came from. He's discovered some untapped resource and been keeping it all for himself."

"Anything is possible," I agreed. "It must have been something valuable if he was killed for it."

He paced the distance between the door and the window, deep in thought. "If we bring Chuck with us for muscle, we can split it three ways."

I had no interest in the potential wealth, I wanted to know what happened to Dean. "Agreed."