Night Terror

Posted on Tue Nov 1st, 2022 @ 7:04am by Warrant Officer Ahira Kasamoto
Edited on on Wed Nov 2nd, 2022 @ 9:02pm

Mission: http://vengeance.split-world.com/index.php/sim/missions/id/3
Location: City of Malik Darius V
Timeline: October 31, 2358
1266 words - 2.5 OF Standard Post Measure

Ahira's mother had lied to him. That was nothing new and it really wasn't much of a surprise. It would have been a shock if she had not lied. When she had told him he was going to use his charm and his silver tongue he'd been expecting some kind of elaborate confidence game, a sting, with him playing the staring role, or at least an important backup part. But, just before leaving the dilapidated house they shared, she'd told him it was his agility and second-story skills instead.

That hadn't disappointed him, he didn't have a fear of heights and he was an adroit and nimble climber. By the time they'd arrived at their destination, he'd lost track of exactly how long it took them, he had changed his mind. It had been overcast and windy when they'd left. By the time they'd arrived, the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees, clouds had covered the moon and stars and then it had begun to rain. Not a sprinkle, not a drizzle, but a torrential downpour, which mixed with the wind, was a full-fledged storm.

Thunder crashed and bolts of lightning streaked downward. There was no one visible on the castle wall, why should there be? In the first place, this was a summer home, or at least that's what he'd been told, so the family that owned were probably not around, and if they weren't around, there would be little incentive for those assigned to guard the manor, to be paying too much attention, especially on a night like this. No sane person would be out there.

Conversely, no sane person would be trying to break in. To be trying to scale a wall in weather like this was a fool's errand. There was no need for human guards, the weather was all the defense the Karlson family needed.

Ahira was not an idiot and he wasn't crazy, at least he told himself that. But here he was, hair plastered to the top of his head, clothes sodden and clinging to his body, and the cold wind cutting through his thin, threadbare clothing. A voice in his head told him he shouldn't feel the cold, or any of the things he was experiencing at the moment. But, his body was telling him differently.

He was miserable and it wasn't going to get better anytime in the near future. It was a good forty feet to the top of the wall, and normally he could make that climb with his eyes closed. But. these were not normal circumstances. He knew that a fall could be fatal, but It was better to face the storm's wrath rather than his mother's.

He had no choice. He had to climb. He reached up a hand, searching for a place to put his fingers, then his toes. The wind tore at him threatening to pull him off, but somehow he made it to the top, not quite remembering how he had done it, after accomplishing the task. He was on the roof.

But he wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot. As he started to move searchlights came on. There was no one to man them, so they had to be automatic, either a timer or motion detectors. Either way, most of the roof was now illuminated, there were only a few patches of shadow. His only two saving graces were that the lights were dimmer than they should have been and there was still, as far as he could tell, no one on the roof.

He was lucky. And then he wasn't. While there were no Terrans, that didn't mean there wasn't Terran technology. A bank of phasers started to fire. He'd started to crawl toward his objective a door that would lead down to where his target was. But when the blue streaks of energy began lancing out from everywhere and nowhere, he pushed himself to his feet and started to run. Not straight though, that would be too obvious, too predictable, too stupid. He ran in a zig-zag pattern, the phaser blasts nipping at his heels, but before he knew it, almost in the blink of an eye it seemed, he was at the door.

He pulled out an electronic kit from an inside pocket. It was mostly dry. With shaking fingers, he held it up to the lock, flicked it on, and let his hands dance across the tiny console. Nothing happened. He tried it again. Nothing. Then again. Still nothing.

Cursing the Universe and almost everyone he knew, he hurled curses into the night, in both English and Romulan. His brows, which seldom made themselves known, were now quite prominent. after the fourth fruitless attempts, he threw the burglar tool the length of the roof and off onto the opposite side he'd climbed over.

In frustration, he kicked the door. Nothing. He kicked it again harder. The door shuddered but stayed put. He did it again, there was a little bit more movement. Finally after the fifth try, somehow his foot wasn't sore, and the door gave way.

Ahira stepped in and immediately wished he hadn't. The stench was overwhelming. He swallowed back bile and started down the stairs. He'd smelled that odor before. It was death and it was coming for him, or maybe someone else he didn't know He did the only thing he could do. He pressed forward which was in his case lower.

Finally. Suddenly, he was at the bottom. One more step and he'd grab what he came for and be on the way.

He'd memorized the photo, though it wasn't strictly necessary since he was looking for cargo, not humans-at least not at that moment- One more barrier to get through and he'd be home free The door thankfully, was unlocked and he slipped through

Just as he stepped through the portal, he was attacked. Someone wrapped their hand around him and slammed him to the ground. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been easy for him to get away


But, these weren't normal circumstances. The person that had grabbed him was not on top of his back. He looked behind him and saw at least ten or twelve people. But, when he was kneed in the back. So, he refocused. On the person on top of him. He. Was. Not a person. His skin was blotched and falling beneath his face. One eye was twice the size of the other and glued shirt.

it was a zombie. Or something like a zombie. What made matters worse he recognized the person Daniel Karlson, a boy around his age.

He noticed this just as Daniel kneed him hard in the side loosening Ahira's grip on his wrists, giving him a chance to renew his grip and started to press against Ahira's neck and started to squeeze. He pressed harder. Then harder again and Ahira started to pass out.

Dead at fifteen.

It was the end.

The last image he was going to see in this life till his last breath.

Which he was just about to do.

There was a thunderclap, a flash of lightning that fell ominously close.

Then there was nothing

Then he woke up. Feet on the floor arms entangled in the sheets. His young body was drenched in sweat.

A bell sounded, and he could hear chains rattling.

The image of the dead body seemed, like the rest of the nightmare had seemed so real Eventually, he would forget the bad dream, he' would never forget that image. Not as long as he lived.