Invasion of Seaburg - Parts 1 and 2

 

Invasion of Seaburg

By Glenda Reynolds

There was a legend about the Arctic Ocean in the North Pole that a comet crashed there long ago. Ever since then strange things have happened. Things like folks coming across perfect clones of themselves. When they were found out, the clones ran for the hills, never to be seen again.

These days the Siberian huskies can sense the presence of aliens. They go berserk, trying to chew through their restraints. I heard that one dog got taken. Its chain was burned apart. The footprints leading away were unidentifiable. I’ve even seen large polar bears laying dead in the winter wasteland looking like they’ve been split open with lasers. What did the aliens think they would find? Could it be true that such a race hunts for sport, needing some kind of trophy?

Those Northern lights? They aren’t always caused by the gaseous particles interacting with the sun’s rays in the atmosphere. Some believe that they are alien spacecrafts looking for the stray one that crashed at the North Pole.

One day, a team of scientists discovered the UFO spacecraft deep in the Arctic Ocean. They deployed a submarine with robotic arms to use flotation devices to bring it to the surface. Cranes would’ve been too heavy for the ice. While it was being towed to the nearest Canadian city, the lights on the outside of the craft started blinking. The sub ceased its towing, and docked the craft in my town of Seaburg. The ship had established communications with the alien ships in the orbiting atmosphere. One of these spaceships landed in the North Pole.

The aliens had been monitoring Earth for a long time. They knew it was Christmas. When they disembarked from their ship, the aliens cloned themselves with special technology to look like Santa, white beards and red suites, the total package. Otherwise, these beings were reptilian in nature with a nasty disposition. And they were packing heat: laser guns that could take a person’s head clean off. A parade of alien Santas rode off, each one on what could only be described as magnetic hover-boards, only much faster.

We were ready for them. People in my little town all owned guns and were members of the NRA. This doesn’t stand for No Radical Aliens, but today that could be the case. The extraterrestrial activity was monitored and talked about daily. We could feel the electricity in the air.

There was no solar horizon event to mark a time for guns to be drawn and ready. The North Pole was experiencing its Polar Night cycle, continual darkness until March. Even through this period there may be only times of twilight.

We placed Jeb in a lookout tower. He used a pair of night vision goggles. He spotted the parade of fake Santas coming at a fast pace. He was almost fooled until he saw the weapons they carried and the hover-boards they traveled on. He sent a flaming arrow into a large pile of kindling in the town center creating a bonfire.

The fake Santas saw our people holding their weapons and immediately began shooting their laser guns. A few people hurled what looked like snow globes at the creatures. These were Molotov cocktails with lit fuses. There’s nothing that smells worse than a burning alien.

Jeb and his cousin Bobby raced into view, each in his own sleigh drawn by a fast reindeer. Bobby had his collectible ninja sword ready to do battle. He said that a man must look into the eyes of his enemy when he kills him. After killing his first alien this way, he opted for his Remington rifle. Cousin Jeb always wanted to try out his new Springfield Armory semiautomatic pistol. Reptilians were splattering everywhere as he rode by with a dazzling smile on his face. Soon the smile vanished as an alien shot his reindeer, sending animal, sleigh and rider tumbling in the snow.

Suddenly there was an explosion in the distance. The ship that the Reptilians landed in had been blown up by another alien race. The cloning devices failed simultaneously, revealing the ugly true form of the enemy. The other aliens known as the Nordics came onto the scene. These were human-like with blond hair, shining blue eyes, and were 7 ft. tall. They had twice the strength of the average man. They quickly defeated the Reptilians.

When the fighting was over, the Nordics gathered with our towns people in the center by the bonfire.

“Thank you for helping us in our time of need, stranger,” said Mayor Johnson as he shouldered his rifle.

A Nordic that looked like the leader said, “It’s a time to celebrate peace and good will towards man. Even we Nordics know the true meaning of Christmas. You see, God made many worlds, but there was only one Son that was born in Bethlehem.”

After the people of Seaburg expressed their thanks, the Nordics returned to their ship to continue to keep the universe safe for us all, human and alien alike.

*****

Part 2

Several months have passed since the invasion of Seaburg, a coastal community near the North Pole. Ever since that “so called” comet hit Earth years ago, we observed strange happenings: human clones and animals ripped apart or missing. These alien beings would come to be known as the Reptilians. One thing that would give them away is that they have luminescent green eyes. But like an unwanted nightmare, the Reptilians would come for us.

March brought some sun into our endless winter night, but only astronomical twilight, not even enough light to cast a shadow. It remained just dark enough to see illumination below the sea. We feared that it could be aliens who had not engaged in battle and were left behind in safety.

We were right.

“What a beautiful sunset!” exclaimed Bobby, the twenty-something year old northern redneck who was fond of his sword and rifle collection. He admired the sparkling glow on the waves caused by the alien craft.

“That’s no sunset, you idiot. I’m pretty sure it’s ‘them’. We didn’t get rid of those aliens like we thought we did,” chided his cousin Jeb.

Bobby was no scaredy-cat. He had killed a good number of Reptilians when they invaded Seaburg during the holidays. He was a good shot with his Remington rifle.

“And what is that putrid smell?” Jeb asked with disgust on his face, “We have to alert the town about this.”

 Tendrils of luminescent fluid made its way to the surface. What we didn’t know was this: the life blood of humans and animals mixed with a concoction was being ejected from the submerged alien ship. The stench of death wafted its way to our village.

Later we saw plenty of activity in the sky, such as UFOs traveling lightening fast. Some would stop suddenly in the sky, come nearer, and then dart off in another direction. Lights on these spaceships would twinkle as if communicating with the ship below the sea. The submerged craft blinked lights of its own in return.

The space craft continued to expel the bloody concoction which polluted the shoreline. It attracted meat eaters such as polar bears, wolves, and white arctic foxes. The ingested mixture caused them to convulse violently. They became infected with an illness that we would later come to know more about. It caused their eyes to glow all of the time. Soon the infected animals made their way into the city of Seaburg.

The ambassador of the Nordics came with his troop to visit Mayor Johnson of Seaburg after receiving a call of distress. Nordics were an alien race which were human-like with blond hair, shining blue eyes, and were 7 ft. tall. They had twice the strength of the average man.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice. I am humbled by your faithfulness to stand by our side,” said the mayor.

“It is our pleasure to preserve peace throughout the galaxy, including your planet Earth. We have come to love your planet and wish to protect it,” replied the ambassador. A garbled language came out of the wrist communicator alerting him. “I’m sorry to cut this short. It appears that your town is being overrun by diseased Earth animals, thanks to the Reptilians. My guards have informed me that they are infested with the LumEco virus. It will spread to other animals and humans. All will eventually die.”

“‘All’ as meaning all life forms on Earth?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Both Nordics and humans acted swiftly to rally the townspeople to protect the city. Not only were men placed on roofs tops to signal when the infected animals came into town, but they also took a proactive stance. Troops of humans and Nordics scoured the snowy terrain to hunt and kill meat eaters with glowing green eyes. To be thorough, they burned the carcasses in a bonfire. One wolf managed to make its way into the middle of town. It lay on the ground, convulsing violently. Upon dying, the stomach of the wolf ripped open as baby Reptilians crawled from it and scattered throughout the street.

“What in THE Hell?” shouted Jeff.

“I got this, cousin,” assured Bobby. He would not be deterred after seeing this. He unleashed his bird dogs and got an assortment of weapons, one being a flame thrower. Soon the entire group of baby Reptilians had been cornered and burned.

When the townspeople and Nordics thought they had a good handle on the infestation, they decided to take more action. Two Nordics dressed in scuba gear. They swam out to the submerged space craft and attached explosives to it. As the mixed group watched from shore, the explosives were detonated. The blast created a great pillar of water with fireworks reminiscent of the fourth of July. Blinking lights in the sky above meant that the UFOs were chattering about the destruction of the ship. They were gone in a millisecond. The town’s people cheered as once again they were able to defeat the Reptilians.

In a humble cabin in the south side of town, a little boy was getting ready for bed. But first he enjoyed a steaming cup of hot chocolate and some chocolate chip cookies as he sat up against the head board of his bed.

“Come on, little fella,” he coaxed as he held a piece of cookie under the bed. It was quickly snatched and swallowed.

The baby Reptilian’s thoughts were, “Cookies good! Humans bad!”

Only One Wish ~ short story based on hurricane Michael

One Wish Only

By Glenda Reynolds

I awoke from a restless sleep, afraid to face the day. I pushed the fear from my mind as I rose from my bed and changed my clothes. You wouldn’t know it was October. The Florida Panhandle heat was unbearable since we had no electricity to air-condition the house. Breakfast consisted of bottled protein drinks and bagels.

There wasn’t much of a breeze as the temperature climbed to the upper nineties. The humidity added to the pervasive misery. It made you look forward to the sponge bath at day’s end using only one cup of water. We had no running water either. It was as if we were dropped in Hell and had to make the best of it. But then we had no idea about the extent of the damage from hurricane Michael.

My husband Bob and I decided to venture out on foot the day after. All roads going out of the neighborhood were blocked by masses of downed trees and windblown debris. It was a few days before we could even leave our neighborhood. When we were finally able to leave in our truck, we headed east to survey the ravaged city. Block after block we ran over downed power lines. There were missing roofs, crumbled mobile homes, and masses of downed privacy fences. Endless acres of beautiful magnolia trees, large oak trees, and pine trees were snapped in half, uprooted, or left with a permanent bend as if bowing to an evil conqueror. There were no squirrels that frolicked about playing king-of-the-pine-tree. Instead, the wasps flew to close in my personal space as if expressing their anger with the terrible weather event they survived.

     I couldn’t blame them.
     Bob and I arrived at a nearby park to gather pond water to help us with the tasks at home. We needed to conserve bottled water.
    “Honey, is that a person sleeping there on that small hill under the palms?” Bob asked.
    “It looks like it. Let’s see if that person is okay,” I answered with some reservation.
     Sure enough, a young woman was sleeping peacefully on the ground. I nudged her hip to wake her.
    “Ma’am, are you okay?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, but her eyes opened. She had a back-pack on the ground above her head. Was she without a home or traveling? She was probably too embarrassed to talk to us. We left her alone to return to our truck.
    “You want to drive to Under The Oaks Park? Are you curious about how that faired?” I asked my husband.
    “I’m afraid too, but okay. You’re the driver,” he said reluctantly.

We found the park open to the public. It might as well have been closed. We stood contrite at having made the decision to be there. The majestic magnolia and oak trees were stripped from where they once stood, providing a clear view of the bay from the parking lot. It was as if someone told me that a close relative died as I was overcome by grief. Tears welled up in my eyes and those of my husband. The tracks of heavy equipment marred the ground everywhere. There was no walking/running path anymore. Stumps, some with yellow caution tape but mostly without, could be seen everywhere you looked. We were several yards from the bay as I turned to see fast approaching dark clouds swallow the rays of the sun. The silhouettes of disfigured trees reminded me of the book covers from spooky, paranormal novels. The dark clouds seem to extinguish the light in our souls as well as we walked back to the truck. The only sounds were our sobs.

   After we returned home, we resumed the task of picking up the many roof shingles that littered the ground and our shrubs. As I collected broken branches, pine cones, and other debris, a glint of gold caught my eye. I pushed back the broken limbs to discover a gold, old-fashioned oil lamp. I rubbed it with a rag to get the dirt off. This action produced an animated smoke that took a life of its own. It became large, then solid, and finally, a genie appeared near me in the back yard. This was no Middle Eastern genie. This was a Panama City redneck genie, complete with a pot belly, baseball cap, shorts, and flip-flops. He yawned, stretched, and then rubbed his belly. Finally, he noticed me standing there with my mouth opened.
    “Hey!” he drawled.
    “Hi! You are the first genie I’ve ever seen.”
    “Well, it’s your lucky day, isn’t it?”
    “Does this mean that I get three wishes?”
    “Nah, you’ve seen too many movies. I’ll grant you one wish, so make it good.”
    “Okay…,” I said as I thought about the best thing to ask for. “I wish I had a million dollars - in cash!”
    “Your wish is granted, darlin’,” he replied as he reached in his pocket. He pulled out a tiny sack, Barbie doll size. He blew on it, pinched it, and stretched it until it reached normal size. He handed it to me as he smiled, showing a missing front tooth.
    The redneck genie made a giant beach towel appear. It floated above the ground. He took the golden lamp from me, sat on his magic beach towel, and flew into the clouds. I ran into the house and told Bob what had just happened. He thought that the heat had gotten to me until I pulled bundles of money from the sack.
    We could barely go to sleep while thoughts of how to spend the money went through our heads for most of the night. The temperature cooled down enough to allow us to sleep.
    The next morning Bob and I were in agreement. We needed to help our community recover from the hurricane. Our first trip was to the park where we got our pond water. The young woman was still there. We walked softly up the hill and placed a bundle of money near her curled form. Next, we got in touch with the county Parks and Recreation Department to get permission to pay a landscaping company to do stump grinding, level the ground, and plant some trees at Under the Oaks Park. We saw countless business owners standing outside of their businesses as they removed plywood from windows. We gave away tens of thousands for them to get back on their feet. There were many people who lost everything. One woman could be seen through the gaping hole of her residence as she clutched a negligee to her chest. All of her belongings were in trash heaps or blown to the winds. Her face lit up as we handed her a roll of money. We picked the worst houses to visit to give them cash aid until we nearly depleted our funds. There were so many more people to help and not enough money. Churches stood with two-thirds of their roofs missing; they were abandoned.
    I didn’t ask the genie for enough money! I thought sadly to myself.
    Bob sensed how I was feeling. He put his arm around my shoulders saying, “You can’t save the world, sweetie.”
    “I know. It was worth a try though.”
    We had just arrived home when a postal carrier arrived with a certified mail for me. I quickly opened it to see a check for one million dollars. There was also a yellow post-it note which said,
    “I lied. I’m sure you’ll put this to good use.
           Yours truly,
                         Genie.”

*****

Note by author: most of the events at the beginning of this story are true events experienced by the author & spouse. The fictional character was added with things to follow for a monthly writing challenge at Writers 750 Goodreads.

The Guest House

 

by Glenda Reynolds

 

The guest house was bone cold that I found myself banished to. It had stayed empty for years since no one ever came to visit. It had seen better days and needed tender loving care, just like me. These were my thoughts as I brushed the cobwebs from the door knocker with one hand and carried my suitcase with the other. When the door creaked open, I was disappointed to see that a leak in the roof had caused ugly brown stains on the white ceiling. Dead flies littered the window sills. Faded curtains framed the glass patio doors that provided a view of an overgrown and weedy garden. Was I really here of my own free will or that of my husband’s? That day seemed like a life time ago, but it was only a year  ago.

I’ll never forget that day when my doctor called me and asked me to come into his office with my husband Steven. Dr. Hopkins gave us the news that I had breast cancer. The doctor explained my options for care which included an operation, chemo and prescription drugs. Luckily I had health coverage through my husband’s employer. After my mastectomy, I began the difficult journey of chemotherapy as we monitored my digestive system. During this time, my relationship with Steven changed for the worse. He spent less and less time with me; he also worked longer hours. He treated me like something that couldn’t be fixed. Did thirty years of marriage mean nothing to him? Did he have his eyes on a younger, healthier woman?

I came home from a doctor’s visit to find an envelope on the kitchen counter with $400.00 in it. There was a note that read, “Here’s money for gas and groceries”. There was no signature, but I knew it was from Steven. How generous of him – not really – since he makes over $50,000.00 a year. He also set up a four foot Christmas tree near the fireplace.

“Ya, thanks a lot!” I said to myself sarcastically. I ignored the tree for days since I wasn’t in the Christmas mood at all. The little pine tree eventually died.

So was I inside and out.

How could something so good – my life and my marriage – just fall apart now? I was supposed to grow old with my husband. I was like a ghost who peered out of the windows from a forgotten guest house. Hopelessness gripped me in her ugly claws. I cried myself to sleep many nights. My mother left me voicemails that I didn’t return.  

As I laid in bed under a mountain of blankets, I stared at the bottles of pills on the night stand as I contemplated taking them all and ending my existence. I wasn’t quite to that point yet for whatever reason. Was it because I was afraid of what lay in store for me when my heart stopped beating? Could I end up in a darker place than I was in now? The truth was I still clung to the notion that I still loved my husband and perhaps he still loved me.

Dr. Hopkins finally asked me why Steven stopped coming with me on my doctor’s visits. I told him that Steven and I were separated. Dr. Hopkins knew that an important key to defeating cancer was to have hope and a positive mental outlook. He introduced me to a patient of his. Carrie was a cancer survivor and had since had two children. She also had a mastectomy and had undergone the same treatment as I was having. Yes, this planted a seed of hope in me. Carrie’s smile was vibrant and her red hair framed her beautiful face. She was living in her piece of heaven. A slight emotion of envy came over me.

My cancer treatments were taking their toll on me. I seemed to be dizzy a lot and I didn’t have much of an appetite. The guest house stayed dark for days with only nightlights on throughout. I had nothing but the four walls of the bedroom as I laid in a weakened condition. One bitter cold evening, I heard the front door creak open. My eyes flew open as I cursed softly for forgetting to lock the door. I raised myself up against the headboard. Heavy footprints could be heard making their way to the bedroom. The light from a flashlight shown as it settled on me.

“So it won’t be the pills that put an end to me,” I thought in my fog of fear.

“Beth, I was worried about you. I haven’t seen you in days,” Steven said.

“I’m okay. Just leave me alone.”

“No, honey. There’s something I have to say.” He fell to his knees beside the bed. I flipped on the lamp on my night stand. Emotion gripped Steven as he struggled to find the words. “I want to say that I’m sorry for not being here when you’ve needed me the most. I’ve been a terrible husband.” There was a long pause. Tears streamed down both of our faces. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

I was stubborn. Was I willing to forgive and go back to the familiar home that we shared for the past thirty years? And here I was, an old lady with graying, messy hair, yesterday’s mascara smudging my eyes, and wearing a T-shirt with holes. And fighting cancer.

“I don’t feel like I’m worth anything.”

“You are the world to me. You are my life and my love.”

“You don’t have a pretty little thing on the side that you’re spending time with?” I asked as I studied his face.

“Woman, my heart has always belonged to you. I admit that I was afraid of losing you. But I think that you can beat this thing. If you’ll let me, and by the grace of God, I want to be by your side through this journey.”

Without waiting for an answer, he gathered me in his arms and carried me back to our house, to the familiar warm bed. He lay beside me with his arm around me all night long. It was like a spring thaw on the ice of my heart.

I made a full recovery of my health and my marriage. As for the guest house, we decided to make repairs to it and save the back garden. After all, it was a project of love. It was where we found each other again to continue the journey of life. God is good.

Deceived by a Changling - March Short Story for Writers 750

Deceived by a Changling

By Glenda Reynolds

The eight year old boy stared at the television as he watched the SyFy channel. He crammed caramel popcorn into his mouth as he watched grownups enter a haunted dwelling with their paranormal equipment, ready to record any sightings or bursts of energy from a would be ghost.

“You know, Dad I bet you could easily show these guys up if you were there. You would make them look like amateurs.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Aiden.” Frank O’Neill squinted at his laptop screen as he checked his email as he did several times a day. “So are you looking forward to spring break?”

“Not really. I think Mom and I are supposed to spend most of it with Grandma and Grandpa. I hate the way they ruffle my hair and pull on my ears. I’m not a baby anymore,” declared Aiden.

“Well, I have a surprise for you. We are going to Ireland so that I can do some research there at some haunted sites. What do you think of that?”

“Wow! Cool, Dad! How did you get Mom to agree to that?” He was clearly concerned since his dad had visiting rights twice a week.

“I told her that I’d bring her back a gift that involved jewelry. She asked for something green that sparkles. Maybe they sell something cheap at the airport gift shop. Don’t tell her.”

Aiden covered his mouth to stifle a laugh as he said, “I won’t tell if you won’t.” He was so cute with his curly auburn hair and freckled face.

Before they knew it, they were on a plane to Killarney, Ireland. A cab dropped them off at Cronin Restaurant. Aiden wrinkled his nose as he heard the locals speak with their lilting accents. A pretty waitress came to take their order.

“I’ll have the burger, fries, and a Coke,” said Frank.

“Really, Dad? We come all the way to Ireland and you just get a hamburger?” Frank’s look told Aiden not to embarrass him. “Okay, same thing please.”

After dinner, they checked into their hotel. The night was uneventful. The sheets were not pulled off the bed by ghosts. The photos of people that hung in the lobby did not stare at them nor did the eyes follow them.

The next morning, the duo rambled over meandering country roads in a rental car until they arrived at Killarney National Park. The beauty took one’s breath away. Deer stood against the mist as they stared at the American visitors. There were numerous waterfalls. Sometimes the lakes and sky looked as one with the same dreamy blue and puffy clouds. They crossed an old stone bridge and happened to discover an ancient stone house that was built into a hill. It looked like it was full of earth with no openings. Frank only looked on it briefly as he continued walking. Aiden however saw an ancient knocker with the head of a man with a multi-pointed beard. He lifted the knocker; it fell away against the stone. The earth surrounding the door gave way as a small fairy appeared in the doorway. It turned to retreat inside without saying a word. Aiden followed it inside. There was nothing but darkness and a musty smell. Aiden felt a sharp pain, lost consciousness and fell on the mud floor. The fairy, a changling, took the form of the eight year old. Once he was outside of the structure, the door sealed up with earth.

“Aiden! Don’t fall behind, Son.”

“Coming, Dad,” answered the fairy.

The two of them walked through a thick forest where moss seemed to cover everything, even the trunks of trees. It was a very old forest with downed trees that gave birth to young saplings and ferns. The birds called to one another lending to a state of serenity. All of that changed when there came the unmistakable sound of a neighing horse. Frank darted one way while the fairy ran in the opposite direction.

“Over here, Dad,” the changeling pointed.

The pair came out of the forest where it opened up to a lake. In the distance stood the ruins of an old castle. A young, beautiful woman who was in fact a “sweet fairy” stood beside a kelpie at the water’s edge. Kelpies are aquatic spirits that can take several different forms; this one was in the form of a horse. Frank came near to the woman and horse.

“Good day, Ma’am. What a magnificent animal! Is he yours?”

“No, he belongs to no one. But he will let you ride him if you wish. Just grab a handful of his mane and swing yourself up there.”

Frank approached the kelpie and ran his hand over the strong muscles of the neck and down the face close to the nostrils. It stomped its hoof impatiently. Without hesitation, Frank grabbed some mane and swung himself on the back of the kelpie. The creature took off at a frightening speed over the hill. Try as he may, Frank couldn’t dismount from the horse. It was as if he were glued to its hide. Upon coming about and returning, the kelpie plunged both beast and rider into the lake where they both vanished from sight. Frank was able to grasp the bridle of the kelpie and gain control. They came to the lake’s surface. He realized that he had been tricked by the changling.

“Take me to my son!” he ordered the kelpie. The horse galloped through the woods and came to the stone house in the hillside. Frank dismounted, lifted the ancient knocker, and gained entrance. He felt Aiden’s body in the darkness. He lifted the boy and brought him out of the house and into the light. He was still alive. Soon the two were on a flight back to the states.

Aiden looked at his father during the flight as he repeated his promise, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

 

New #Ebook 31 Days of October Volume 2

It's here! 31 Days of October Volume 2 
at Amazon.

Read my short stories The Snake Pit and The Deer Hunter. Also my first poem that I've written and had published, Death of a Shifter. Great for bed time and on the go reading.

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