Guacamolia Chapter 1: Complete

By Malvoyant Berserker


>mission name: operation invasion>mission date: March 3rd 2012 earth days – 2500402 cyberhour since last upgradion>mission planning began: January 1st 2012 earth days – 2500100 cyberhour since last upgradion>mission headquarters: moon of earth; far side opposite sun>mission landing location: earth; unnamed pacific continent surrounded by water (prior experiments have shown that organisms of this planet can not survive alive without the substance water; southern coast/northern coast (per infantry division)>mission time (approximate): 40 earth minutes – 0.25 cyberhour>mission objective: establish cyber-base on earth, chosen continent and eliminate any hostile or possibly hostile native species>mission head: A9borg – head commander, A45comm – director of communication, A70gen – 1st infantry division commander, A79gen – 2nd infantry division commander, A256cal – cavalry commander from space

Switch to personal recording of K9jr – junior officer 2nd infantry division>speed: 259 cybermile/cyberhour>thermal reading: -60 below 0; heat sensor on>wind speed: 132 cybermile/cyberhour>sound speed: 236 cybermile/cyberhour>position: earth; lower atmosphere>vision monitor: low resolution> > <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> <> >direction: 46 degrees due north>speed: 50 cybermile/cyberhour>thermal reading: 15 degrees>


I was dozing off with the movie still playing on the small screen when a huge CRASH woke me up and knocked me out again, in my unconscious state, I think I dreamed that the plane was falling at a really high-speed; people were screaming, things were being hurled about, and those oxygen thingies that you put over your mouth when the plane’s in an emergency situation dangled from the little trapdoor next to the fan, but no one was using them. As to what made the plane fall from the sky like how it did in my dream, I only saw a blurry and shiny giant egg-like thing tore through the ceiling of the plane and crashed out the other end a few rows ahead of me, the thing punctured the plane like a needle through a balloon on both sides, that’s how I pictured it. And some people were lifted out of their seats and out sucked out of that hole in the plane, screaming along the way; it was horrible, and luckily I got my seat belt on all this time. A question ran through my head; was I going to die? Oh what have this vacation turned into?


If there’s one thing you learn from watching the skies, for whatever reason, it’s that shooting stars don’t occur during daytime; and not in hundreds all at once. I happen to be searching the sky for game when I saw it, or many it; tens, perhaps hundreds of what appears to be flaming balls of fire hurling across the blue sky towards the south, to where the undead roam, and far beyond where the little people lives. I thought to myself, when did shooting stars start shooting during daytime? And usually they shoot across the sky, not down from it, that’s odd, but just then I saw a grey goose flying overhead, my thoughts were immediately divided, and I raised my bow with three arrows in the sling, and fired. Pow-Squawk! The grey goose shouted its last words of surprise, perhaps acknowledging the fact that all three of my arrows pierced its body, two on the wings and one in the rump, and crashed in the nearby bushes. What a kill! At that exact moment, a ray of sunlight shined onto my fur, I stood there bathing in the circle of sunlight; Brother Wolf was impressed by my kill, I thought to myself with beaming happiness, why wouldn’t the Wolf God be? I’m the handsomest, strongest, and fastest wolfling in the tribe, and all other tribes around, I have the perfect coat of grey fur (and head-fur) that shines in the sun, reflecting sharp white fangs, a perfectly pointed nose, fierce eyes like stars in the night, obtuse and round ears, and my name, Wolfe, is the name of the greatest wolf leaders in history! I am next in line to become a wolf legend. Savoring my glorious moment for a moment, then I ran, on my hinge legs, to the spot among the tall grass where my kill had fallen. Blood was still pouring from the wound in its rump, I decided not to waste a good drink, so I plucked the one arrow in the goose’s rump, and drank the remaining blood in its system, sucking the arrow hole dry. Animal blood is not as tasty as vampire blood, but the meat is excellent; not that vampire meat can be eaten, those suckers burst into flames and explode to pieces when they die, sunny or not. No wolf in the history of wolves liked charred meat. Securing the dead goose on my hunting strap and wiping my bloody fangs free of blood, I turned my attention back to the still shooting, still ongoing shooting stars. Odd, I thought, but even odder I thought when some of the flaming and glowing amber stars seem to change their course of direction and started heading this way, my way.


My parents…cough…guardians, are freaks. They’re overprotective, that’s all that’s freaky about them. I’m two hundred years old, not so old, but certainly no longer a toddler, do all vampires have to be thousand years old before they can stop drink blood from a bottle? No, just my guardians, mostly pa though, mum is always busy cleaning the house, like whose mum isn’t? Pa is two thousand, ten times my age, and he thinks because of that multiple of ten he can decide everything for me, I’m treated like pottery, easily breakable, but not actually, the sooner I turn one thousand, the better, and the sooner than sooner I run away, the better yet. And as if on cue, it happened, one cloudy morning…

There was an explosion. I bet the blacksmith overcooked his breakfast again, so I opened our heavy front door (that took all my strength to even lift it, yes, for security, pa made the door so you got to lift it –if you can- before opening it, or else it won’t budge) just in time to see pa fly tackle me back in, with his foot, he hooked the door and slammed it close (I can never deny his strength, even for a mid aged vampire that’s pretty impressive). I’m about to ask he to get off me when he covered my mouth with his hands.

‘Shh, we are under attack.’ He whispered.

And as if on cue, the roof of our house exploded.    

Erick and Erick’s Sister

‘Shooting stars!’ Erick shouted.

‘What are shooting stars?’ Erick’s sister asked.

‘I’m not sure, but wow, look at all those shooting stars!’

‘I am!’

‘Aren’t they cool?’

‘Yeah, but what are they?’

‘Shooting stars.’ The words found their way to Erick’s mouth before he knew, or once knew, what they are.

‘You just said you don’t know what a shooting star is! How could you know something you don’t know what it is?’

‘I-I don’t know, these words just puked out of my mouth, I can’t explain it.’

‘You can’t explain anything! Just like you can’t explain why we’re here!’

‘So can’t you!’



‘I don’t really know.’

‘Me neither.’

‘Let’s keeping going.’

‘Hey, maybe we’ll find out what those shooting stars really are.’

Of course, zombies don’t know what shooting stars are, but they once knew, and a brain is a dictionary, always the words once known are never forgotten, catalogued with permanent marker or something.


Shroons was lying on his straw mattress bed, in his dimly lit hut, eating a big bow of hyperactive pineapples (lying down-if his mother were still alive, she’d have had a fit), when several simultaneous explosions made him sit up, his two wings alert, ready to fly when necessary. His hut-mate, Weedy, came stumbling into hut through the non-existent front door; a piece of cloth hanging over the door frame. Weedy’s eyes are dancing wildly around the room, his vision distorted, and the usual green, glowing blood flowed from a gash in his head, Shroons found Weedy’s appearance peculiar, he did after a few moments of pause and while Weedy wheezed and panted notice that Weedy’s left arm was…gone, there was a bloody green stump where his slim elfin shoulder used to be, Shroons found this peculiar too; fairies, fairy magica, by law, are not allowed to harm another fairy of any kind using magic, it is a capital offense punishable by removal of the magica gland in the fairy that produces magic; the worst of the worst punishments.

If Shroons had not eaten too much hyperactive pineapples in the last ten minutes, he might have arrived at a conclusion sooner that the colony is under attack, but hyperactive pineapples, apart from giving an energy mega-boost, also dimes the user’s common sense for the first twenty minutes of intake, so Shroons was slow to piece everything together, from the ongoing explosions and blasts of magic outside, to the screams and alien noises, to Weedy collapsed on the hut floor…still with a missing left arm, but Shroons failed to do all that before his hut exploded and propelled him thirty feet into the air, upon hitting a hard metallic moving object, knocking it off its course in to a tree and exploding, Shroons reflected off the hard metal moving object at a 90 degree angle and smashed a hole and himself into the trunk of Big Hollow, the colony’s oldest and most sacred dead tree. Before Shroons got picked up by another fairy and slapped into full attention, he saw what appears to be the sky raining golem-sized fireballs upon the colony, hitting and smashing its many huts and thousand-year old trees to smithereens. Well, that didn’t clear anything up, after this particular fairy roughly picket him up and slapped his round head twice to bring him to attention; the hallucination is wearing off, and the stimulation is coming rushing like a cyclone into his joints, Shroons thought, with a foolish smile on his face, hyperactive pineapples really comes in handy at times like these…

‘Snap out of it, messenger Shroons!’ The elf slapped Shroons in the face again.

‘Hey! Aria! What’s happening?’ Shroons said casually (remember when I said a few sentences ago that the hyperactive pineapple hallucination effect wears off after half an hour, well, for sprites like Shroons, who are never much thinkers, it takes another ten to fifteen minutes for their consciousness and awareness to return to function). Aria is one of the close neighbors of Shroons’ and one of the Elf High Council members, if she’s slapping Shroons, then there’s got to be something important need delivering, because Shroons, being able to fly and therefore being a messenger elf and also being not the best messenger elf, is rarely looked upon to deliver an important message from one of the High Council members.

‘Listen!’ Aria slapped Shroons’ face again, ‘I need you to send this distress note to the nearest colony! We are under attack! You know where the nearest colony is…HEY ARE YOU LISTENING???’ Aria slapped his face once again (the author lost count). ‘This is very important Shroons! LOOK AROUND, YOU WALNUT BRAIN! Your colony is under ATTACK! GO…’ Aria didn’t finish her sentence, but that might have been it though, ‘go’ can stand alone. The reason she didn’t finish her sentence was because one of the attacking cyborgs, as Shroons see them, dipped down on the two of them (Big Hollow’s ceiling was sawed off sometime during Aria’s shouting at Shroons) and raised its left arm which split in half to reveal a high-tech laser blaster. Before his eyes, Shroons saw Aria being hit by the laser blaster, the cyborg zoomed away inches from Shroons’ head, and when his eyes turned back to Aria (Shroons followed the cyborg for a moment as it flew off amidst hundreds of clashing elves and cyborgs fighting a brutal airway battle, the background featuring the sacred Elf High Council tree on fire, tens of huts falling from the once mighty branches of thousand-year old trees, whose branches are falling with the huts, and the elves that are falling from the airway battle raging in its full height; for the moment Shroons took to observe the scenery before him, it looked as if the sky was on fire, and it sure was, the thousand-year old treetops that shielded the fairy colonies for entries with its numerous branched green leaves now burn bright and incinerating with flames), she was gone, and all that remains was a clumsily clustered pile of ashes, looks like the Elf High Council member just got incinerated by laser.

‘I will fulfill my duty and deliver this message!’ Shroons declared to the pile of ash before him, ‘and I shall not fail, or Mother Magica may take my soul eternally! Trust me, Aria of the Elf High Council!’ And Shroons flew off in the direction of the colony gates.

Despite the violence and mayhem and blood/diesel spilling happening around him, Shroons felt perfectly safe and sound, he made his way to the circular colony gates that covered the exit and opening to his colony, flying carefully to avoid traffic, the fifty meter high gates are also inflamed, and Shroons flew between the columns of the oak wooden gates. As Shroons flew on, he could hear thousand-year old trees falling behind the colony gates he passed moments ago, as well heard was a peculiar metallic sound which sound like cheers of victory, and suddenly, Shroons was wide awake. With his consciousness back, the surprise overcame him with such a powerful blow he crashed into a five meter thick oak and fell thirty meter to the rainforest floor, the thick humid moss provided a soft bed for passing out and Shroons passed out.

Published in: on 2011/04/28 at 9:42 PM  Comments (9)  

The URI to TrackBack this entry is:

RSS feed for comments on this post.

9 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. omg it’s amazing! George it’s like a book that i would read, over and over again! please do continue on and please do continue quickly 😉

    • Each chapter will feature a bit of each character, I’m working on K9jr, Lezlie and Mara, they haven’t come in yet, and Shroons can do with a bit of extension on his part, updating very soon! 😀

  2. What kind of relationship do Shroom and Weedy’s in? I got confused.

    • They’re roomates/hutmates, but if a suggestion comes that they have a relationship status, that’ll be cool too.

      • LOL. Sad for Shrooms that his mate is RIP, though.

  3. This is so interesting! I am hooked.

    Is Shroons a major character? Is he an elf? I would really like to more about his background and abilities.

    Great stuff!

    • Oh yeah! Shroons is an elf, I think they call flying elves “sprites’ in Artemis Fowl, so I borrowed that name. Thanks!

  4. AWESOME!!!! 😀

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: