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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - HORROR
The following story is an entry for the ‘Reaver Attack!’ fan fic challenge over at Serenitymovie.com.
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 1835 RATING: 10 SERIES: FIREFLY
>Downloading program file…
REAVERS – The unspoken truth!
Article by Jonas Ballard.
“Cannibalistic terrors raise hell for inhabitants of small border moon!” - The Ariel Enquirer.
We have all read the headlines. We have all heard the stories. Unconfirmed reports of men gone mad on the outer Rim have been a staple diet for our Anglo-Sino culture for decades. Wild savages terrorising the border planets - raping and killing innocent people. Acts of despicable behaviour and barbarism that are unheard of within our proud Alliance territory.
For centuries, the inhabitants of Earth-that-was were enthralled by myths of terrifying creatures. Tales of vampires, sasquatch and werewolves, recited by the comforting glow of the campfire. (An age-old custom, that surprisingly, still exists in parts of the Rim today.)
However, that is what we have been led to believe. They are just stories. Fanciful tales to keep the young children in line.
I never believed the stories. As an investigative reporter, it is a fundamental part of my training to seek out the facts. The rumours do not carry enough weight, without some irrefutable evidence.
The so-called nature of Reaver attacks makes one feel apprehensive to believe such things. It is known that they rape you to death, eat your flesh and sew your skin into their clothing. Therefore, the survival rate for such an attack is particularly low.
I was sceptical, vehemently sceptical, until now.
This is my story. Although, you won’t find any accounts of blood sucking vampires here. The events in this article are very real.
It is important that this account is told. It is a crime that our Allied Government has denied the existence of an extremely real threat for a long time.
Therefore, the names featured have been altered, to protect the identities of those involved.
Six weeks ago, I met Dr Philip Sanders, a cryptozoologist and scientist. For several years, he has gathered evidence as to the whereabouts of these ‘cannibalistic’ Reavers.
I wanted to validate the countless claims made by civilians, pilots and war veterans, who have all bore witness to the Reaver phenomenon. An enormous task, for a single cortex reporter to undertake.
On a separate note, long haul cargo pilots have often caught fleeting glimpses of their ships on several trade routes. It is of no surprise then, that it would be an ideal location to track their movements.
However, Dr Sanders had uncovered the location of a recent Reaver attack, and offered to take me there. Without hesitation, I agreed. I wanted to witness, first hand, the effects of a Reaver attack on Alliance soil.
Dr Sanders assured me that it would be safe to return to the location. A week earlier, he had studied the various buildings and bodies that lay abandoned at the scene.
We were escorted to the site by a small of unit of Federal marshals. It is standard procedure for scientists to be accompanied by armed guard. A precautionary measure to protect us from the threat of space pirates.
Our journey took us to the cusp of the Rim. A tiny border moon on the fringes of space.
Dr Sander guaranteed that I would witness the devastating effects of a Reaver attack. He described, in great detail, how the inhabitants had burned their own town to the ground - an extreme measure to protect themselves from the impending attack. It would be all the evidence I needed to confirm their existence
As we sat patiently in our shuttle, the front side of the planet came into view. From the safety of the shuttle window, I could see the extent of the damage created by fire. I wondered, what could drive the townsfolk of a small community to wilfully destroy their homes? It would be a matter of time before all my questions were answered. From the pilot’s seat, I could hear the order to begin the descent into the upper atmosphere.
Suddenly, the shuttle began to vibrate. My attention turned to the sound of comm chatter from the cockpit. I leaned forward, only to be met by the firm grip of a hand on my shoulder. It was Dr Sanders.
I imagined that our tiny shuttle had run into some turbulence upon re-entry, until I saw the expression on Dr Sanders’ face.
“You wanted to learn about the existence of Reavers?” he asked worriedly. “Here’s your proof.”
The next part of my recollection is a little fuzzy. I awoke to the sound of gunfire. A sharp, throbbing pain pierced my forehead, and a cold feeling ran down my face. I realised that our shuttle must have come down, and I had sustained minor injuries during the crash.
Suddenly, a stray bullet whizzed past my face. Without a second thought, I scrambled for cover. It was not until a couple of hours later, I realised that I was actually within several feet of a Reaver.
The forward section of the shuttle now lay a few metres away: a burning effigy of its former self. Several pieces of the shuttle’s interior were scattered across the deserted landscape. Hull plating, electronics and seating abandoned to nature.
I decided to check the cockpit. Hesitantly, I followed a trail of blood leading to the co-pilot’s seat. Upon closer inspection, I realised that he had been dragged forcefully from his seat. A sense of fear built up inside. I had to escape.
As I made my way back out, I could hear the sound of frantic gunfire, mixed with the screams of helplessness. A single thought raced through my mind. I had to find Dr Sanders.
Amongst the burning wreckage, several bodies lay on the ground. In the distance, a handful of guards stood with pulse rifles raised, taking aim at an unseen enemy.
It didn’t take me long to locate Dr Sanders’ body. He had been thrown a few metres from where I had come to. The doctor’s body now lay trapped under a piece of hull plating. I rushed forward, oblivious to the carnage that surrounded me.
Carefully, I removed the large piece of metal across Dr Sanders’ waist. I checked the old man’s pulse. Unfortunately, it appeared that he had died on impact.
I moved to my feet. I could hear the sound of heavy breathing nearby. Warily, I stepped forward to investigate.
A single Reaver emerged from behind a piece of burning wreckage before me. I could not believe my eyes. The stories were true. The countless descriptions of these creatures were now presented to me in terrifying detail. A semi human being standing nine feet tall. Remnants of human flesh were sewn into its disfigured face.
I looked into the creature’s face. Its dark eyes stared back. I could sense the rage and hunger that boiled deep inside.
Suddenly, the Reaver’s body slumped to the ground. I swung around, greeted by the tip of a fully loaded pulse rifle. I had been saved. The welcoming and weary face of an armed guard smiled back.
I am now writing this article from the safety of the passenger compartment. The sun is now setting over the horizon. The last remaining rounds from the pulse rifle have been expended. There is no way of knowing if the Reavers will return. There is no way of knowing if I will survive. The shuttle’s power supply failed over six hours ago.
I am now alone. There are no survivors. The armed guards began to act in a strange manner, not unlike the Reavers that so many people have claimed to encounter. I had no choice but to end their lives.
If there is anything that I do know, it is this. They are real. They do exist, and they must be stopped, before it is too late…
> End of file
Monday, September 19, 2005 10:32 AM
Wednesday, September 21, 2005 5:59 AM
Sunday, September 25, 2005 2:43 AM
Sunday, April 2, 2006 4:24 PM
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