VOID - Cacciatore

Prologue

Prologue

The darkness, no light or sunshine had ever graced the unnaturally clean walls on the overly-white room. It was nearly empty, save for abnormally large computer screens that littered an entire wall in the square room. The screens only illuminated by a tiny, dim red light, embedded in the surface on the dizzyingly long control panel which itself was covered with buttons of all shapes and sizes, flashing every now and then.

A screen that rested on a thin and spindly metal stand on the other end of the dark room flashed a dull green; lights flickered before it eventually showed text... text unlike any other, that no human could possibly ever hope to read without the writer’s help.

The dull green light barely reflected off of the rounded, smooth surface next to the computer-like screen, the tiny screen flickered once more and suddenly blinding light lit up the entire room which had seen no light for around 29 years; revealing what lay inside: a 6 foot long dome lay in the centre beside the computer, small windows high up on the wall provided little to no view of anything outside, two double doors  on either side of the room, one of which had a red sign next to it with text in the strange, un-human writing and the other, with large windows, merely appeared to lead to a kitchen of some sort.

One of the dauntingly large screens flickered to life, revealing writing in English:

Date: estimate 7th August... year unknown.

Location: 400km from Earth surface, within Thermosphere.

Pod condition: Normal.

Inserting mission data... loading.

The dome suddenly beeped, making an ear-piercing screeching noise, before black vein-like strips on its smooth, extremely clean surface began flashing in vein-like lines.

Loading compete.

The flashing abruptly stopped, the screen suddenly turned back to showing text in the same, unfamiliar language.

A tiny two-clawed hand appeared around 1 foot up the wall closest to the pod, grasping a plain mug of water before halting abruptly.

Time seemed to stop; nothing moved, no text, no voices, not even the sound of computer fans whizzing around. The clawed hand stayed, waiting almost patiently for whomever it expected to receive what it held.

“Warning, incoming threat,” a monotone voice boomed, seemingly out of nowhere. Bright, clean lighting was replaced with a dim, deep and threatening red.

“Activating emergency-” the room rocketed; a deafening crash echoed and shook the foundations to their core, impolitely cutting off the monotone voice. The structure barely held, unfortunately more booming and crashing noises sounded the arrival of another wave of destruction. The once beautifully clean walls and flooring became covered in dust as tiles cracked, smashing like fragile cups on the shaking ground.

The screens, now broken and cracked, turned blank as though abandoning the ship. Only the screen beside the unusually unharmed pod stayed on, flashing writing frantically and wildly. Eventually having stopped at the end of a sentence, the pod was suddenly wrapped in a wispy, transparent surface before that screen, too, turned off just before the next explosion sent deadly swirls of burning fire hurtling into the once harmonious room, engulfing what little was within.

Out in space; no stars shone and with no sign of safety. Just cold, dead and empty space surrounding the haunting explosion that destroyed the pod’s home. What little actually remained shot straight towards one thing – Towards Earth, having been pulled by her gravity.

Among the fragments of meteorite-like metal was the smooth pod, now oval-shaped and covered in dust and tiny chunks of metal and debris. Once again, they were surrounded and engulfed by heat, more heat than anyone could survive through as the atmosphere began eating away at them. But not the pod - which remained strangely unharmed; untouched, if slightly battered as it collided with the Mesosphere and disappeared beneath the Earth’s thick and fluffy storm clouds.