IRD 1

So… from the title, you may have guessed, this is based on real life… somewhat, if it was incredibly distorted. Most characters within this novel are based on someone who I know in the real world. Also, I have taken what they said they would do in a given situation, and used it in this… even though they may not under the circumstances, respond in that way. Anyway, this is the story of what happens, when the worlds you weave together through plot and computer, begin leaking in the real world…


It wasn’t noticeable at first, but one day, when I was walking home from the bus, I noticed there was nobody around. Usually, at this time of day, there would be cars driving along the road past me, and at the very least, maybe one person waiting in the bus stop. But it was completely deserted. Even the wildlife that is present in Australia was silenced. I could have continued walking on the concrete path, but instead, I walked behind the bus top, as close to the back fences of the properties along this road. I walked underneath one of Australia’s many gum trees, their white bark and somewhat spindly thickness easily identifiable, and something dropped onto the back of my neck, as I walked underneath it. It felt like water, as if a single drop had fallen onto me, and I paid it no mind, as it had rained recently. That and I still felt apprehensive about the complete lack of life around me at the time, so I didn’t really notice it at the time.


I continued home, more cautiously than usual, walking down the narrow concrete path between two fences, leapt over the small retaining wall, made of partially decaying wooden sleepers, and walked up my house’s driveway, and opened up the garage. Because the garage had no automatic opening system, I had to lift it up, which I found easy, after over a year of having to do so. Once through, I closed it, and locked it behind me, and went about my usual routine, forgetting all about what was going on outside. This included getting a small snack, switching on my laptop, watching some YouTube, and playing some games until 8:00pm. After which, mum usually was home, and had cooked dinner, which I then consumed, had a warm shower, and went to sleep. On this night, however, I was not given the peaceful slumber I usually received. Instead, I got a violent nightmare.


It felt so real though, including situations that were familiar to me, like at my school, friends that I recognised… but it quickly devolved into an all-out war, with a shadowy figure that was capable of ripping out people’s hearts, pulling bloody tendrils out of said hearts, and controlling their actions… which they were still conscious while they were killing their own close friends. One of my close friends and I, looked each other in the eye, and we nodded to each other… and then, in a blinding flash, we had each changed into a character we had created in a novel. He had turned into Harbinger, and alien warrior intended for fleet destruction, armed with a myriad of heavy weaponry, and a “Mirage” system, which allowed flight, a full body energy shield, not to mention a few other useful bonuses. I had turned into Blood weaver, the first iteration of a character I had written, and altered over the year. In his initial form, he was nearly unstoppable, with physic powers; a razor sharp tipped 3 metre long tail, wings, and scales tough enough to resist all energy weapons, and most kinetic weapons. This creature was OP, so was weakened in his later variants, limiting the “psionic” powers, and making him easier to kill. But I had become the first iteration. This was good.


I tried using my psionic abilities, to see if I could even enter the shadow’s mind… to no avail. Whatever the case, I could not use them on him… and I didn’t want to use them on their thralls. Harbinger, on the other hand, was almost single handily murdering anything he considered a threat… being every single one of the students in the school, along with the teachers. All of which could only look in horror as they were cut down, one by one. I had my own problems, as a lance of black energy blasted me away from the shadow, flinging me into the air. I spread my wings, and proceeded to dive-bomb them, using my tail and speed to attempt to decapitate them. I missed, and instead I was grabbed and thrown by the shadow, flying uncontrollably backwards into the science building… which then proceeded to explode, due to the sudden increase in temperature, thanks to the shadow, and my actions, which had damaged the valves for the Bunsen burner’s gas. What the shadow did not realise was that I was able to absorb the heat from the fire, as I was blown out of the building again, and used it to repair any wounds or broken bones I had sustained, and used whatever was left to increase my movement speed, and strength… and went straight back in.

By this point, Harbinger had decimated over half of the school’s 1500 students and staff, and had finally figured out what was causing them to be resurrected, as soon as he killed them. They were already dead, I suppose, with their hearts all pilled around the shadow, each with a bloody tendril attached. Some of them had created a mass of bodies around the shadow, preventing me from dive bombing them again. So I thought of the next best thing. Using the energy I had absorbed from the explosion, I focused into a powerful beam of light, which blew apart the meat shield the shadow had created. I felt drained, but thankfully Harbinger stepped in, ripping apart the hearts the shadow was controlling. The shadow visibly flinched, and the remaining thralls fell limp, exactly as if their hearts had stopped. The shadow then proceeded to blast Harbinger… and the kinetic force blasted him outside the school grounds. I had recovered somewhat, so I took over, and tried to get close.


I had realised there was a slight charge time on the shadow’s attacks, maybe a second if you were lucky. I saw the light around him dim, which was the signal, and I dodged to the side, as the lance of energy passed by my right side. It fired again, and I dodged to the right, the lance partially demolishing some of the school buildings behind me on my left. I ignored that for now, and focused on closing the distance. My right wing was hit once I got to the circle of hearts, now crushed into bloody paste thanks to Harbinger, and leapt into the air, as a bloody tendril was swung towards me from the left, a low swipe that would have knocked my legs out from under me.


Using my powerful leg muscles in combination with my wings, I was able to avoid this attack, but felt the burning pain in my wounded right wing shortly after. It swiped again, but I was ready, catching the tendril as it neared me. I pulled, and the shadow came towards me, howling in pain. A second tendril emerged, and lanced straight towards me, with what appeared to be full intentions of ripping out my heart. I didn’t get out of the way in time, but it was unable to pierce my armoured carapace. I silently thanked myself for creating such a powerful creature to call upon, while slicing the second tendril with my tail. It cut through it easily, and I continued dragging the shadow towards me. When it was within range, I gave one final tug, and pierced its shroud… revealing my father underneath.
I would have been worried… but I knew my father was long dead anyway. That didn’t make me seeing him fall to the ground any less painful, since I had killed him myself this time, rather than watching his slow, painful death due to a haemorrhage. The tendril I had pulled had come out of his heart… I wondered the significance of that. Harbinger came back, and returned to their true form, my friend Mark. I did the same, and knelt down near my father, who was still bleeding out in front of me, and I cried. Mark must have realised I had killed my own father, and tried to comfort me… and said a few choice words. Considering Blood weaver always avoided murder where he could, I wondered why he considered the shadow creature enough of a threat to cleave it’s skull in half. Just out of curiosity, I pulled apart the two halves, and looked into what remained of my dad’s brain… it still had evidence of the haemorrhage. As in, there was blood coming out of his brain in part, and others that had congealed blood, which would have affected his brain in more ways than one.


It all faded to black, and then I woke up, my entire body covered in sweat from the heat… I went to wash my face with cold water in the bathroom. I had been having that nightmare a few times, each in different circumstances, sometimes with my cousin instead of Mark, and almost always in different locations… I had now finished grade 12, had moved house into further away from the home of my childhood, and was due to start an aircraft maintenance course soon. I went to check my emails, hoping for any information about my course, but found something from Mark instead. Curious, I clicked into it. It contained an odd image, and it was written quite sloppily, with multiple errors in spelling and grammar, which was odd. As a fellow writer, he had higher standards than that, which meant this was urgent.


The message was claiming that something strange was going on, and he claimed to be turning into Harbinger. He seemed to want it, which confused me. Why would he want to permanently become something other than human? I replied, asking if he was sure about it, that he was becoming Harbinger… I got a reply faster than I expected, and he was claiming he could make stuff out of thin air. I was about to reply again, when I heard a voice I had never heard before. I looked around, and saw nothing, even checking for anything that had been disturbed. Nothing… I closed the windows and door, making it as soundproof as I could, before trying to communicate with this otherworldly, commanding voice.


“Hello?”
“Hello mortal, I can hear you”
“What are you?”
“In due time, you will find out what I am. As for who I am, before you ask, my kind has many names. The one you are most familiar with is likely Satan or god”
“Great. A lying voice in my head, just what I wanted for my birthday”
“Well, I am a creation of your own mind, so do you have a better name for me?”
“What do you think of Ghost? You sound a lot how I imagine a specific one would”
“Ghost it is. It is oddly suitable, as I seem to remember being alive at some point or another”
“Ok, so why are you inside of my head?”
“I think I can take a form, so no. I am not stuck in your head… but you may be the only one who can see me”
“Great. I am going insane. Seeing things no one else can”
“We could always get a second opinion”
“Who would listen to me, if I said I could see a ghost?”
“Speaking of… what do you think?”


Before me, although mostly transparent, was most definitely a ghost. Standing over 2 metres tall, with some sort of spindly tail, this looked like another character I had created, for a different story. Despair, if I remember the name of them correctly. And this creature was telling me it was alive at some point? It was not possible, not unless the boundary between the real world, and the world of fiction, had become blurred, or non-existent. I thought back to when that water drop had hit me… and how nothing had happened initially. Surely, that couldn’t be what has caused their appearance.


“It is… interesting”
“You look as if you have seen it before”
“Something along those lines, yes”


As we were talking, his body was becoming more and more solid, and I could now see it was covered in red scales. Not to mention, they were wearing the remains of a black t-shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. Exactly how I described Despair, a red lizard.


“There are others in this house”
“You said it like a statement”
“Open the door then, and see for yourself”


I heard a small gasp, and out of curiosity, I opened the door, revealing that both of my sisters had been listening in on the conversation, with my mother not too far behind. They were all focused on the now completely corporeal Ghost, standing in my room. The fact it said Hi to them didn’t help. The eldest sister actually was the most acclimatised to the weirdness, having watched enough anime that this level of weirdness wasn’t so weird for her anymore. She was able to talk some sense into my other sister, who is an extremely active gamer, and the two of them were able to calm our mother down. I went back to conversing with said ghost, and found out what Mark was saying was true. Whatever was going on, Ghost knew; especially if it had to do with reality blurring with fiction. But why was he so intent of being near me?


“I will keep you safe”
“Why help me? There are plenty of other people out there in this world that need help more than I do”
“My talents are unique. They cannot help many. So I choose to help the one who… created me”
“How long have you known?”
“Not long, I got it from reading your emotions when I said that”
“Ok… I guess I am stuck with you for the time being”


He mostly stayed in my room, while the day went on as otherwise normal. I did what I had been doing for the last 2 months, which involved gaming and YouTube, without revealing what was going on. At least, now I had a confidential outlet to speak to, one I had created, unintentionally… which was likely to stick with me until my death. I told him about the messed up nightmares I had been having, and they asked about why it focused on my father. I answered, stating that his death, at my age, was not going to go unnoticed psychologically. I was 16 at the time. The fact that these nightmares were only starting to surface now was the interesting part. It might have had something to do with the medication I was taking at the time, which somewhat dulled all emotions.


I ended up spending the following day reading up my BAK theory book, somewhat in preparation for the course on the following day, and also for the exam that it was intended for. The BAK, or basic aeronautical knowledge exam, is an important step in acquiring a flying licence, after going for 5 hours of circuit solo, that is. I was on 0.6, so around 40 minutes solo flying time total, having only recently gone on my first solo during the Christmas break. But I was a little worried about having this ghost follow me to my first day at the AME course. So… after bringing it up, I found that ghost could become his namesake, and disappear from the visible spectrum, in addition to selectively contacting individuals of his choice. He was not about to reveal his existence to people I didn’t even know, which was fair enough. He demonstrated, and true to his word, he was completely invisible. While he was, he checked up on my sisters, who were both using Netflix. That explained the awful internet that I was experiencing at that time, as it was for some reason prioritising them.


And then, one of them came into my room, claiming that whatever I was doing on the internet was making it slower; when I was doing no more than I had been for the last few days, which was watching videos in 480p, one at a time. She left, and was shortly after followed by the other sister, who asked the exact same questions. And again, I answered, and showed that I was only watching YouTube videos in 480p, one at a time. She too left, wondering why the internet was so slow, without even thinking about asking each other if they were both using Netflix. You can tell I might get annoyed by this, they always assume I am the one who makes the internet so slow. That was one time, and they always bring it up. Then the subsequent arguments, where they still claim I was doing something. So yes, we are far from a perfect family, but if it came to it, I would trust them with just about anything. I still would, even now.


I slept peacefully that night, with no nightmares for once… instead; I was subjected to a rather peaceful, idealistic dream, at least from initial impressions. I was walking towards an aircraft parked on the tarmac, with an empty runway, one that I knew did not exist in the real world, so it doesn’t have a name… yet I was able to identify it regardless, as a FG-98, a heavily armoured fighter/gunship hybrid. And from the perspective, and the clothing I was wearing in this dream, it was my aircraft. I did a walk around, noting nothing preventing it from flying, and that it was equipped with no weapons… this was simply a joy flight then. I was not about to complain, I was going to enjoy this experience while I could. I climbed up into the cockpit, strapped myself in, and then was surprised when a second person jumped into my aircraft… I felt as if I should know them, at least in the sense of the dream, so I continued on as normal, doing the usual checks as per the conveniently placed checklist. I finalised the checks, taxied out to the runway, and took off, as there was no clear radio procedures in place from this airfield.


Besides, it made my job much simpler, allowing me to enjoy the flight, rather than worry about other aircraft, and the like. I also knew about how this aircraft could reach space… it had both the resources for a sub-orbital flight, a full fuel load to allow it, and sufficiently advanced engines to switch between air breathing and using oxidiser when outside of the atmosphere. Because of that, I decided to climb, at a roughly a 60 degree angle to the earth, while travelling north, to orbit over the poles. We would have enough supplies to sit and watch, and I handed over the controls to the inbuilt computer, which circularised our polar orbit, to the point where we would re-enter the atmosphere nearby our start point. I listened, and heard the three engines all shut down, meaning our trajectory had been set… which I could see on a display in front of me, based on our speed and position around the planet. I looked down, after rotating the spacecraft to get a better view of the planet, and found it was covered in clouds… at least on this side. I hadn’t noticed when I took off, so I was curious.


Using the aircraft’s long range communications, I called out to anyone down below, and received no response… I became worried, as did my passenger. They were wearing a flight suit like mine, if you could call it that. It was more akin to a space suit, only much thinner, to allow for movement. They were wearing a helmet now, which sealed their suit, and although they were still connected to the ship’s O2 supply, we both had emergency reserves for about one hour… if something went wrong up here, we would not make it back. Not without taking action. I continued scanning the radio waves, even going as far as to use the military channels, on the extreme ends of the radio waves, and found something which changed my mind as to if this was a dream, or a nightmare. There were simultaneous reports, even on the civilian radio now, of strange creatures, swarming the cities. I cursed my luck, that we had taken off without weapons, but had forgotten about the 50mm auto cannons, mounted on either side of the fuselage. This aircraft always had at minimum, 2000 rounds to use in the event of something like this happening. Out of the dream’s thoughts though, I wondered why I was having so many nightmares, and so frequently at that. It was odd, to be sure, but nothing out of the ordinary. I always had little in the way of dreams, and the ones I did have were usually weird, and disturbing. But never a repeating pattern like what they were then.


I turned the ship around, and set the engines to maximum, to slow down our orbital path, and eventually reverse it. We burned through a large portion of our oxidiser, but we were able to successfully set our trajectory to end up nearby our starting point. My co-pilot was worried, and told me so using the intercom, to which I could only attempt to reassure them, that everything was going to be fine. I disabled them from hearing the radio, and continued searching… the reports coming in filled me with dread. Multiple confirmed reports similar to that of my nightmares I had been having before. Un-killable thralls, with a shadow creature not too far behind… which matched the height, build, and overall attacks that I had seen before.


I was now terrified, how could there be more than one? There was never more than one in my nightmares before, what had changed? I didn’t dare change forms, in the event that I depressurise the cockpit, and kill my companion with the re-entry heat. So, I did the next best thing. I used the radio, and told them how to kill the thralls… and how to kill the shadow. But my pleas went unheard, and I could only watch as the surface was turned to ash, and everyone on this world burned alive, thanks to the hydrogen bombs that had been detonated. The smoke obscured our vision, but the re-entry heat soon began to affect our aircraft, which had switched back to using air and fuel, rather than oxidiser. I had rolled the aircraft back over, and got my co-pilot to scout out a suitable landing zone.


I heard an alarm, and felt myself slipping out of the dream… as the chaos ensued without me. I woke up, crawled out of bed, and hit the alarm on my desk, before crawling back into bed. I then remembered what day it was, the first day of my course at the nearby aerodrome, called Archerfield. I had remembered setting my alarm earlier, but that didn’t mean I was any happier about having to get up at this time, in order to get there before 8:00am. Because we had moved, we had ended up further away from the airfield than we were in our previous home, but that would not cause me to not do this course. The circumstance I was currently experiencing, however, was a different story. Being Ghost was pestering me about why I hadn’t said my name, since he had shown up.


“You know my name, but I do not know yours”
“Don’t lie to me; you have to know my name”
“Ok, so maybe I do. Regardless, why not say it?”
“I have my reasons”

Yeah… having a ghost attached makes everything more interesting. That said I was able to convince them that they should stay home, while I went to my course. For whatever reason, they agreed. So I was able to prepare for an otherwise normal day, by brushing my teeth getting dressed in long pants and a collared dark red T-shirt. The standard introductions, WHS brief, and tour of the facilities was conducted, meaning we left earlier than advertised. It was actually quite nice there, a fairly relaxed atmosphere, not at all what I was expecting from this course. That, and a weird rivalry between the mechanical, and the avionics teachers… all of which had come from the industry, so there was much to be learned from them. For example, a bunch of experiences about the various places they had worked. Including some shoddy practices in regards to the benefits of working for Qantas.


The week went on, and we moved onto Occupational health and safety, for which most of it was fairly straight forward, and the entire class passed the exam easily… including some of the less mature people. Ones who were excessively making paper planes, because they were so confident in their mathematical abilities, that they would get everything correct on a maths exam, without calculators… oh, and they were older than me, in their early twenties for the majority of them. So… the fact they were doing this, in an environment more akin to a workplace than school, was just plain stupid. Not to mention, most of them didn’t even take the time to learn my name. They just used one of two names for me: Twin towers, a reference to my status on paper planes landing on the pool table while play was occurring, or shitty pool player number one… apparently, even if I beat a person I like to call BFB (big fat bastard) I will still be a bad pool player. Hey, at least I know their name. For the purposes of this, they have been shortened to Cam. I was annoyed, and almost tempted to shove a pool cue through his gut or throat, but decided he was not worth the effort. I was able to cope with their near constant jeering, at least up until the end of the third week of my course. It was only then that the back seat bullies decided to up their game, and take their psychological torture one step further.


Cam, the de-facto leader of the back seat drivers as I will call them, decided to challenge me to a game of pool. I had improved since the start, and was on my last ball before the black, when Cam decided to speak up, in an attempt to get me to lose my focus. Given he had sunk the white ball, I had two shots to get this one in, so I was fairly confident I could do it.


“Hey, Orion”
“What do you want Cam?”
“I bet you couldn’t hit that with a Rocket launcher, even if you aimed. Hell, chances are you would hit someone you cared about instead”

Unsurprisingly, it worked, and I failed to sink the ball on the first try. However, I was able to hit it in such a way that if I hit it dead on, I would sink it. Except for the fact it was an awkward position to aim the cue from. While I was about to hit the white ball, and sink the last of my coloured balls, Cam said the following.


“If you miss this shot, your parents will be ashamed”


I am not exactly sure what triggered it. Maybe it was the constant torture I was being subjected to. Maybe it was pilling up, along with the gruesome dreams I was having, and Ghost appearing whenever and wherever they want. Of course, I missed the shot, my anger now affecting my reasoning. They then proceeded to sink all of their coloured balls, then the black, and claimed that because I lost, I should run around the pool table naked, then proceed to by the entire course Nandos… this was not even mentioned prior to him sinking that ball, so I was quite annoyed with this claim. I didn’t notice as the material on my pants parted, sliced cleanly apart by a newly developed appendage I had grown. I didn’t question it when I wrapped it around Cam’s body, and pressed the razor sharp tip right next to his neck, with a fire that wouldn’t die anytime soon. I didn’t even think about the others, as they tried to interfere, with intent to pull me away from Cam… and then blown away by an unseen force, as if they had been hit by a high pressure air cannon.


It took about 10 seconds, of Cam being in my stranglehold, before I realised that something had changed. I released him, and he decided to put some distance between me. I didn’t fault him for it; I instead was focused on the light reflecting off of my tail’s tip… and the blood that had come from Cam’s neck. Barely a pint of the stuff, but I had maybe had it a little too close to his neck, in hindsight… then the pain began. I had the weirdest combination of heat, and pain, around my butt, which slowly spread along my tail, leaving an odd feeling in this new appendage as it passed. I had to assume, when I thought about it later, that my nerves within my tail were forming, along with some additional development of the muscles used to manipulate said tail. It was only about half a metre long, a little more than a quarter of my total height, and it was causing me agonizing pain.


“If you taunt me like you have been doing these last few weeks again, I will not hesitate to draw your blood. Let me be”


Yet somehow, I was able to utter those words, before finding a nice place to barricade, being the male bathroom, so I could examine myself properly… while my tail was still in agonizing pain. It wasn’t stopping me from walking, but my knees finally buckled, sending me to the floor, once I had blocked the door with bit of leftover PVC pipping that was left in there, bracing it against the opposite wall. I both used the mirrors in the bathroom, and my own eyes, to inspect the new appendage that had grown spontaneously, after I had shakily picked myself up off the floor, and was holding onto the sink to keep myself upright. I realised I could feel it now, and wondered why I hadn’t felt it earlier. I had a little notebook with me at the time, and jotted down some of the sensations I was feeling in this new appendage. I could now feel the blood on the tip of my tail, and when I tapped it with my knuckles, I found the density of the material was quite high… yet to me, it felt as light as air.


I then inspected the tail itself, and found it was coated in what I could only describe as scales, which overlapped and shifted as I swung my tail around the bathroom, yet somehow made very little noise. I heard someone calling me, asking me to come out. I replied, telling them I would come out when I was ready, and continued my inspection. I realised I felt a warm sensation along my back as well, running up my spine. So, I took off my shirt, and checked my back using the mirrors, looking over my left shoulder. As I feared, the skin on my back was altered. It wasn’t covered in scales like my tail, but it was certainly a lot tougher than the flesh that it was replacing. It stopped spreading once it reached my neck, which I had observed it all the while it was changing my skin, like a cancer. I considered if that was what was happening, but although cancers can grow new skin and create growths which didn’t exist before, they can’t create fully functional appendages, like what had just occurred, within the space of less than a minute. This was something right out of stories I had read on the internet, ones that were 100% false. But… as much as I wanted to deny it, I could not. What was happening to me was both real, and tangible. All I needed was a second opinion, which ghost provided, remaining invisible whilst we conversed.


“Oh… that’s new”
“No ****”
“What’s with the bad mood mate?”
“I am afraid of what I am becoming”


I noted how the black skin, which was about the same colour as what you see if you look up at the night sky while far away from civilisation, was only covering along my spine, and where the tail joined my existing body, which was uncovered by the scales. The person tried calling me again, and this time more voices joined in, trying to get me out so we could talk. I was worried, scared even, of what they would think. I put my shirt back on, having finished my inspection, and took a chance. I remembered on our first day of this course, before the immature males had a chance to do their thing, that everyone had a right to feel safe. Aliens included. An oddly specific point to make, but it got the point across that no-one was to be discriminated against for their skills, appearance, religion etc. I was about to test that to its extreme. I was surprised when it was some of the people I had gotten to know, and was considering them as potential friends in the future, once I got to know them better, where the ones trying to open the door. They seemed concerned… I guess they were thinking to themselves “what the hell was going on?” Not as surprising was some of the instructors close behind, anxiously looking on as I emerged from the bathroom, after slicing the PVC piping, and grabbing the D shaped handle, and opened it.


They all started speaking at once, which was not the best of ideas considering the circumstances. I somehow got them to speak one at a time, and the avionics’ instructor, John, was the first to speak. He asked if I was Ok… and asked why I had attacked Cam. I proceeded to explain my position, which was reinforced by the other immediate students, that Cam and most of the people in the back were unfairly treating people who sucked at pool… other than myself, 3 others also shared that position, although not as strongly as I was. I had tried to ignore them, but they just kept at it, every time I played pool, no matter how much I improved from a previous game, I was still one of the worst players in their eyes. And they didn’t let me forget it. I explained that they had directly insulted my parents and my aim in general… but what had tipped me off the most was the way they considered my family. They couldn’t have known one of them had passed away, nor would I have expected them to think it was a sensitive matter to me, was I in a reasonable state. I was not. Ritchie, as always, found a way to make a pun, being one of his staples “At least you will always have another hand to spear, not to mention hold your coffee cups while on the move” I don’t drink coffee.


Steve, the WHS officer, who had taught the OHS segment of the course so far, asked why I had a tail now… I could not give an answer. I said it had appeared once they insulted my family, growing out of my ass as it had in a rapid and later agonizing fashion. The fact that I could not have hid it underneath my clothing was also noted by the other students. Then the tough question occurred: what happened to Cam was understandable; he had a small cut on his neck, that wouldn’t cause any permanent damage. The rest of the students though? Their attempts to intervene had ended with them thrown around the room as if they were ragdolls, discarded by their owner. I followed the group back out into the common room, and found some paramedics tending to the worst of the injuries… limbs bent at weird angles, blood on the carpet in places from the blunt force trauma… shattered windows into the bar, and large holes leading to the staffroom and document storage from those unlucky bastards who had come at me from behind. Suffice to say, something had gone very wrong here. I didn’t remember even thinking about the others, laser focused as I was on the one who had insulted my family.


But that said, I did think back to some of the gruesome dreams I had experienced before Ghost showed up… although most of them involved the shadow creature, my minds interpretation of my dad at the time, they almost always involved Blood weaver. The students saw my look of realisation, and I had no choice but to explain what I thought at the time was most likely my fault. I was experiencing a headache, one of the symptoms Blood weaver experienced when he had overstretched his mental powers. And generally speaking, multiple targets overstretched his limits, no matter what he was doing to them. I explained some of his abilities, including a limited stasis, a mind control like effect on a single target, crushing any living creatures brains with his own mental power, making creatures explode from the inside, and a force push like effect… that last one in particular was too similar to what had occurred today, for it to be coincidence. The force push effect was never written down, merely thought about in regards to his abilities, or its debilitating effects. If I was to re-write the story, it would be an early ability Blood weaver gained.


I kept Ghost a secret somehow, and took the blame for the damage caused the building. However, I was not legally obligated to pay for said damages, or the hospital bill, due to me not having full control of my actions, as I had stated. Something I inherited from my father, along with my more analytical nature. In other words, it’s a long life story, which I don’t have the time to tell you in its entirety. But, to shorten it, I had issues when I was younger, in controlling my anger, as did my father, which I saw when I was younger. Said issues seem to have resurfaced. And considering the field which my father worked, it is no surprise I can put two and two together in most situations. I.e. The screen door on our current house came off its tracks, and I figured out the wheels on the bottom could be pushed upwards, and likely used some sort of spring system to keep it in place. So, I used some physical force to keep the wheels above the tracks, and moved it back into place, no thanks to my sister. I could go on with a few other examples, but I won’t as I could be here all day. With all that had gone on, all students were allowed to go home early, at least those that had not been injured.


I felt sorry for those I thought I had hurt, so I checked on them. Some of them I didn’t mind, as they had contributed to the current situation. But others were innocent, and trying to stop me… including Payam, who I had helped on a few different occasions for various reasons, and he had repaid in kind. Yes, he comes from a country other than Australia, and completed most of his education elsewhere. No, I don’t care about that. He is a reasonable human being, as are most of the people on the course that I consider friends… so what that I made one lady friend as well? That is as far as it goes, if that. Regardless, I was waiting for one of my sisters to show up, while someone decided to let loose yet another barrage of insults.


“ARE YOU STUPID? You are lucky you didn’t kill anyone, Orion. Not to mention, you are a hazard to keep on this course, I am surprised management hasn’t kicked you off the course yet. I bet they will, if this happens again”


People trying to aggravate me… it unfortunately worked that time. I was looking out over the car park at the time, and felt my body heat up. I jerked around to face them, and they immediately shied away from my gaze, giving me a strange feeling of empowerment over them.


“You test my patience, and your luck, after I have demonstrated what I am capable of? You are a fool”
“I’m sorry, ok? Don’t hurt me…”


They then ran into the bar, and took the emergency exit within. It was almost comical, until I turned around, and saw a blue light reflecting from my eyes… they were literally glowing, somehow emitting light. I looked down at my arms, and saw the veins on my arms were not any better. They too were emitting a brilliant blue hue, exactly the same as my eyes. It would certainly explain the heat I felt all over my body, if my blood was literally heating up due to my anger. As said anger turned to curiosity, the glow faded to normal for my veins at least, but I decided to check the shade of my eyes, just to be sure. I went back into the bathroom, and I found they had in fact changed colour, becoming a much stronger shade of blue, than the weak green colour, flecked with gold, that it had been before. I got the text, stating that my sister had arrived, and headed downstairs. It was only then I considered myself lucky, that I hadn’t blasted anyone out of the windows leading to the airfield, or the car park. True, they were hurt, but it was better than the alternative of landing on a spinning prop, or being run over by a car.


She noticed the changes almost immediately, as trying to stuff my half metre long tail into the car drew some attention. Again, I had to explain the events of what happened, with Cam and his “friends” constantly jeering and insulting. She noted the changed eye colour as well, which was intriguing. Then again, as I was the youngest of my immediate family, so I had lived with her my entire life so far. I had to explain what I did to Cam, and the others that tried to intervene, going into detail as to each of their injuries. When I looked back over to her, her mouth was wide open, almost shocked that I had done what I did. But, considering the strangeness of Ghost’s appearance, she figured there was more to come. I had to concur, as I had some idea of what was coming, or at least, so I thought. Then I mentioned how my blood had heated up when that last guy was aggravating me. That particular note reminded her of something, and she asked me to remind her that she needed to show me something when we got home.


But first, we had to make it through the 2:30 traffic, which always gets worse as we get closer to home, as there are schools on either of the two routes we can use to get home… and yet, every time we take either route, I am amazed by how stupid some people are. Whether they aren’t paying attention to the cars around them, or people who clearly have death wishes, there is always something stupid occurring. And this is being said by someone on the first stage of their licence, where I can’t drive by myself, yet I can fly a plane by myself just fine. I try to maintain the standards I keep in the air, but with so much going on, it is an interesting prospect while driving to keep aware of those who are dumb. You really should look where cars are, if you are entering an on ramp onto a frequently used road, or am I the only one who thinks that its common sense, to look where you are going to end up, and act accordingly?



“Get on with it Orion”
“Alright then… Moving on”



Regardless, when we eventually got home, she had remembered herself, and dragged me into her room. Because she had a double bed, and the way she uses her laptop, I lay down alongside her, and looked a specific manga. I had to admit, parts of it were far too familiar for me. Each character was blessed, or cursed depending on who you asked, with special abilities. And almost all of them had extremely inhuman features. Some had wings, others had ears, and there was even a centaur amongst the group. Nothing that directly identified to me, but there were too many similarities for it to be ignored. Except for the whole Ghost thing, it was a good reference point for my current situation. I headed to my room, and got a random bit of paper. I was bored, as the internet had cut out just as I turned on my computer, so I started up some of the music I had on my computer, specifically the Bungie made halo games musical soundtracks were included in it, along with some other miscellaneous things which I also wanted to listen to at the time. It was a memory of when all of this was not even thought about by me, when my father was still alive, and I still had some hope in the human race. Not saying that I don’t now, but it is much less than what it was back then.


I let my 4H pencil glide across the blue lined paper, the other side marked with numerous binary numbers, starting with an idea. I started with shapes, shading them as I went, but all interconnected. I eventually realised I had subconsciously been designing an aircraft, and continued by making the wings, tailfin, and cockpit, adding them onto the cylinder at the front. With the basic shape down, I began adding some detail, like the grilled intake for the engine, steps to get into the cockpit, reinforcing bars to hold what I imagined was acrylic windscreen, flaps, ailerons etc. Constrained as I was by the black line above the right wing, blocking the sketch from spilling into some maths notes I had taken that day, before my change, I ended up drawing a much smaller aircraft below it, a glider of some description. So I imagined that the first aircraft, the one I had made in more detail, was the tow plane, and the glider had been towed to some altitude before it was released. I looked back at the drawing, and stood back for a minute. I could have sworn I heard something fly overhead, how I imagined the engine of the more detailed aircraft would sound.


So, to sate my curiosity, I headed outside, and saw a smoke trail coming from the thick bushland behind our house, making me a little worried. Fire this close in itself was a danger, but what if it was that aircraft I had heard fly overhead? Even if it wasn’t what I had drawn, there would be a trapped pilot and/or passengers potentially trapped inside. Although in hindsight, heading into a potential inferno was not the best idea, I decided to go back inside, grab my webbing belt, filled the water bottles, grabbed my multi-tool, my knife which was within AAFC standards, compass, and an axe out of the shed in our backyard, and headed out.


I hadn’t gotten changed since I got home, so I was still wearing a pair of steel cap boots, long black pants which I had bloused up for this exploration, and a short sleave dark blue shirt. In the event I got lost, I had thought to pack my phone, as well as the compass, so I would find my way back. I was headed north east towards the crash site, so assuming there was no major obstacles in my way, I would be able to turn right around, and walk right back home. As I approached the boundary between civilization, and the thick grass leading into the bush land, I saw Ghost materialize next to me.


“Don’t suppose you have scouted ahead ghost?”
“Why would I do that? Of course I have. You are right, you know. It is a crashed aircraft, but it’s no cargo plane. Shouldn’t be too hard to find, it hasn’t been painted anyway, except for the propeller tips”
“So it has a chrome finish then?”
“Yeah, it has”
“Most civilian aircraft I know of are painted white, with few exceptions”
“Also… it lost most of its right wing and tailplane. Slammed into the trees, I assume. In other news, how is your tail?”
“Still feels like it’s on fire, but it is otherwise usable. If I need to, I should be able to cut through the metal on the aircraft, and maybe save the pilot. If they are still alive, that is”
“Hey, it is more useful than mine”
“You are your namesake; can you even affect the world around us?”
“Not at this time, at least as far as I am aware of. Maybe in the future, I will be more powerful”
“So you were not at my course today? Not at all near me when I blasted at least 10 people away from me?”
“Ok, maybe I helped you channel your mental strength into a weapon, and used it on those who were interfering. What of it?”
“You could have killed people. You are a monster”
“Who was the one who couldn’t control their temper?”
“Ghost…”
“And who decided to use their newfound tail for destructive purposes?”
“Shut up”
“And then hid, while others were only trying to help you”
“Ghost, I created you. So I can destroy you”
“Ha. You wish it was that easy. But you cannot be rid of me. Not as long as I remain in your head and on your computer files”
“That may be so… but I am more than able to delete any traces of you, both on the internet, and my computer. Surely that would weaken you”
“You were going to investigate the crash site? Or aren’t you?”


With that, he dematerialised, allowing me alone with my thoughts again, as I was headed through the thick bush-land undergrowth. The scenery was actually quite peaceful, the trunks of the gum trees reaching into the sky, the thick, uncut grass, green from recent rain all around me. Not to mention, I was walking along a shallow creek, freely flowing past me, and the cacophony of sounds coming from the local wildlife. From the Kookaburra’s laughter, to the various calls of other birds, and the other creatures closer to the ground, it was almost peaceful. That was until I got closer to the crash site, where I began smelling smoke, and burning fuel. There was another strange smell, almost like something was being cooked, like meat… I picked up the pace, and began charging through the undergrowth, and came into the clearing created by the aircraft. I could see the damaged right wing embedded in one of the trees, and the tailplane higher up on my right. To the left, I could see multiple fallen trees, and the chrome aircraft glinting in the sunlight.
I went into a full sprint, headlong towards the damaged aircraft. It was much bigger than I had thought, much bigger than a single seater aircraft… Ghost had lied. The right wing, which had an engine in the centre of it, and everything beyond the engine was gone, was leaking fuel, and the left wing, identical to the right except it was more intact, with only a few scratches on the chrome surface. The fuselage, the central part of the plane, was in worse shape. It had taken the brunt of the impact, and when I jogged around to the front of the plane, I found that it was badly damaged, the nose bent and battered, with some tree branches lodged in the nose cone, with the radar assembly behind that. I kept my distance, and walked back around, to look for an entrance into the aircraft.


I found my way in through the rear cargo ramp, showing that the aircraft was designed for light transport duties, likely military based on the layout of the seating. The red crash webbing was empty, and instead there was cargo, thrown around the inside of the plane, damaging some of the internal framework of the aircraft. Most of it was pilled towards the front of the aircraft’s cargo bay, which would have led to the flight deck. I was able to move some of the lighter cargo out of the way manually, but it still blocked the entrance with a particularly large cargo container, painted red for whatever reason. A stark contrast to the other containers, some were unpainted metal, others were painted a dark shade of green. I didn’t have the time to pry any of them open, I needed to check to see if there were survivors… so I had to pierce the red cargo container, and walked backwards, pulling the crate along with me. It was painful, and put an incredible strain on my tail when I tried to remove the tip from the crate. When I was eventually able to remove the container, a liquid began seeping out. I noted some of the electrical cables were still moving around, sparking occasionally. I had avoided them earlier, but based on the current pitch of the aircraft, the cables would eventually connect with the liquid from the red container… which would not be good for me.




“Why did you stay in the aircraft, after piercing the fuel canister?”
“I felt obligated to help as much as I could. Admittedly, I was holding a woodcutters axe, so that probably wasn’t the best idea in hindsight”
“Why do you say that?”
“Inspector, I know why you are here. Just bear with me a little longer, and you will see why”




I passed the cargo hold, and was about to open one of the doors set into the left side of the dividing wall at the front of cargo hold, but felt more heat than I thought was safe when I touched the doorhandle. Remembering what that meant from the OHS section of my aircraft maintenance course, this likely meant there was a fire raging in the room. I saw the label, and noted it was an inbuilt kitchen in the aircraft. I didn’t ponder why this was, but instead checked the door on the right. It was labelled as the flight deck, so after checking if the door was locked, and if there was heat behind it, I found that it was safe to go through, but it had been locked when the aircraft crashed, likely due to the potentially volatile cargo it was carrying. So, using my tail, I cut a section of the door off and reached through the hole to unlock the door. No luck, it was locked in place by an electronic system, which appeared to have kept it that way once it was shut down. A potential fault in the aircraft, or due to the damage, it meant I had to cut away the door, and step through the ragged hole that now led to the flight deck.


There was a set of stairs directly in front of me, but there was also a tight access way to my left. I decided to investigate that first, and found accommodations for 2 pilots to rest at any time. Although it looked quite comfortable given the circumstances, I found no one inside, so went back into the corridor, and headed to the flight deck proper. There were two people in the seats ahead of me, but I could only see the backs of their heads. I had to assume they were unconscious from the force of the crash, and turned their chairs around, starting with the co-pilot, the one who had sat in the right hand side of the flight deck. I found I could not, so edged around, and saw the tree branch that had pierced the glass windows, and gone straight through the co-pilot’s skull. Blood was seeping from the wound, and I think I saw a few bits of brain scattered around, and the damaged headset had been pushed out of the way. The pilot was in better shape, having narrowly dodged their death, but had their head rested against the controls. I pulled them backwards, and found them unconscious, so I began unclipping them from their seat, so I could get them out of here.


I pulled them out of the chair, and lay them on the ground, so I could pull them onto my right shoulder, and head out. I didn’t take the time to look for anyone else; I would save this one first, and then look for any others later. As I passed through the doorway, I noted how close the sparking wires were getting to the liquid from the red container, which was still leaking out, forming into a puddle at the front of the aircraft. It was almost about to begin seeping into the flight deck. So, making the choice, I replaced the damaged door over the stairwell into the flight deck, protecting the co-pilot’s corpse so it might be identified, headed back out, grabbed the pilot’s prone form, and smelled the fumes from the fuel.


Invisible to me, the entire cargo hold was filled with a highly flammable and explosive gas, from one of the damaged fuel canisters stored in the aircraft. I was not to know, but this was some sort of prototype fuel, one that could be made from water: Hydrogen. What I smelt at the time was the fuel leaking from the right engine, which had begun seeping through the cracks in the fuselage, making my time even shorter to get to a safe distance.  This was quickly spiralling out of control, and I didn’t even know it. All I could do was pick up the pace as much as I could, and I had to abandon my axe, as it was slowing us down too much, once I realised our time was running out, at the cargo bay exit. I went as fast as I could, but being slowed down by the pilot meant I was knocked forwards by the blast when it occurred.
I woke in extreme pain, with burning undergrowth all around me, the stars and moon above just becoming visible, and the pilot trying looking over me. I felt something embedded in my leg, and when I checked, I found there was a large shard of hot metal embedded in my right leg. I looked into the eyes of the pilot, and with a raspy voice, told him that he needed to move me, so the wound could be cleaned and the shard of metal removed with reduced chance of dirt entering the wound. He moved me towards home, but ended up putting me in the tailplane of the aircraft, which had long cooled down since the initial crash, as it was closer.


The wreckage was clean, so he took one of my bottles from my webbing, and used it to clean the wound. Under the circumstances, they were remaining incredibly calm. Once the wound was cleaned, with no dirt visible around the wound, I instructed him to remove the metal, and hoped that the still hot metal would cauterise the opening. He used a fire proof blanket to hold the metal, conveniently stored in the section of the tail we were in, and pulled it. I knew it had hit the muscle, but was surprised when the bleeding was minimalized. In fact, the only thing to show for the metal embedded in my leg was the cauterised wound, completely sealed over when he removed it from the wound. Still glowing hot, he discarded it outside of the tailplane, and tried getting me to talk more, after giving me some water. His voice was strong, with a minor European accent, possibly German or Dutch.


“Why did you come to help?”
“Are you complaining? You are still alive, are you not?”
“When you put it that way, I suppose I should thank you… what about the co-pilot?”
“Dead on landing, tree branch skewered their skull. Assuming the flight deck was not obliterated when your aircraft detonated, you can check your corpse yourself”
“What, and leave you alone? You are injured”
“What of it? I can walk now, without a searing pain in my right leg, since you removed the metal. What the hell were you carrying anyway?”
“Prototype hydrogen fuel cells, highly volatile stuff. We were supposed to deliver them to Archerfield, some inventor or something wanted them, plus some aircraft components, to make a hydrogen powered aircraft”
“Ok. What was in the red containers?”
“Ah, those contained some hydraulic fluid; it was supposed to be headed to the international airport down in Sydney, once we dropped off the other cargo. Flammable, but wasn’t acidic, or carcinogenic”
“Right, thanks for the medical aid, by the way”
“You gave clear instructions, which I followed. Where is the nearest phone line?”


I picked myself off of the floor, checked my compass, and headed south west, back towards my home. Once I found the path I had made in the bush, I followed it back, with the pilot in tow. He began talking more about his personal history, and who he was. Walking wasn’t too bad; my right leg muscle seemed to be working fine. The wound itself still felt warm, which was fine given the circumstances. It took the pilot, who I now knew as Karl, a little while to realise I had a tail, razor sharp as it was on the tip. He brought it up by smacking me with the sharp blade of my discarded axe from behind, which he had picked up at some point, as soon as I pressed the doorbell to my house. My vision fading, I saw the door open, and based on the screams of horror from my mother, it was bad. I blacked out completely when I heard Karl drop the axe next to me, and his loud footsteps retreating from next to my head, but not before I pierced his lower leg with whatever strength I had left, somehow getting it straight through, shattering his thigh bone. His screams of agony followed me into the black abyss of unconsciousness.