This was written for a creative writing project for school. The prompt was stargazing. Actually, the promt was going out into space and exploring it or whatever, but the title said stargazing and so I did that. This is the result. It's got a bit of an unexpected twist. Also, this is my second time using second person so if it's not great, that's why. If you've got flames, share them, but please actually critique my work. I would like to get better and just saying something like "This is so stupid" or "You're horrible" doesn't help. I hope you enjoy this one-shot! :)
To Gaze Upon the Stars
Stars. So many bright, beautiful stars. They're everywhere, decorating the black sky with their small, luminescent bodies. It's so calming, so peaceful. Oh why haven't you noticed them before? It is as if fate is playing a cruel joke on you; only as you lay dying may you witness such a spectacular sight.
Your side hurts. The pain is excruciating, but the twinkling lights bring you a small degree of comfort. All the soldiers, all your men, have left you alone on this grassy, blood-stained hill. They think you will soon die and you do not doubt their judgments.
Death was not an experience you ever wished to partake in. The mere thought of death was enough to initiate an intense fear, which overrode your mind, causing it to freeze and sputter out sporadic, terrified notions. Stargazing –you think that's what it used to be called– is the only activity to calm your frightened mind. It's too bad you before never realized the calming power the stars held. It would've helped you so much throughout your years as a young soldier.
Gazing sadly at the stars, you begin to think of your family. You haven't seen them in years. The last time was at your sister's wedding. She had been so beautiful in that white dress, and yet so foreign. You didn't really know her. You don't really know any members of your family. Not your father, not your mother or sister, and certainly not your brother-in-law of three years. It seems that the minute you were out of the womb, you were training to be a soldier. Every first born child was. The rigorous training, which lasted until the age of twenty, was supposed to keep the men and women alive in this malicious war. And it had for you, until now that is. These past fifteen years were –as your superiors put it– magnificent. Quickly ascending in the ranks, you became captain of your own men a meager five years ago. "A fine example of what hard work and dedication will get you," your commanding officer had said.
A rattle goes through your dying body. Blatantly, you realize you had laughed. It truly was ironic. The position of captain came to you because your own had died. She at least had the privilege of being surrounded by her soldiers. Everyone adored her, she was happy when she died. You don't get to share that honor. Your men never fully cared for you; they were still loyal to her and her –very different from your own– methods of discipline. You knew they despised you, but you never gave much thought to it. Not until now. Now, when you're all alone dying on some hill you don't even know the name of.
The stars make you wonder what life could have been like had you been the second born, or third. Maybe you would've had a wife and children. You're only thirty-five, not too old according to all those the second-born children. Your life could've still been ahead of you, not flashing before your eyes. How can stars hold that power? The power to make you daydream. You, who have never had a single dream in your entire life, are actually daydreaming. How can stars do that?
It's strange. Those exact same stars that cause you to daydream, that keep your mind off the pain, are the exact reason for the pain. If it hadn't been for those deceivingly enchanting stars, you wouldn't even be on this hill, dying from a gunshot wound. Is it really a gunshot wound? The weapons the enemy carries are not exactly well-named. The enemy. Creatures form the dark abyss, you like to call them. They're monsters; that's what they are. And those vile creatures came from the stars. The innocent, beautiful stars hold many deadly secrets. No one knows exactly why they came. Perhaps to take over this luscious planet? When they came had been forgotten as well. Was it 100 years ago? 150? It doesn't matter though; all that matter is getting them off this planet. Earth belongs to the humans.
You remember hearing rumors –stories– in your youth. In the olden days, before the monsters came, people actually wanted visitors. They were so naïve, you think. After all the death and destruction humanity caused to their planet's own inhabitants, what made them think that other species from different worlds would be any different? Maybe there were good ones out there, but all you've witnessed are the cruelest, most sadistic monstrosities. You're not so inclined to meet any others, regardless how 'good' they might seem.
Vaguely, you realize you can't feel any more pain. When had that happened? You slowly move your hand to feel your side. A wet, sticky substance greets your fingers. No, you're still bleeding. Your mind tells you that's bad, you're time is almost up, but it feels so good not to feel. You don't panic at the thought of death anymore. Somehow the stars cured that phobia. It's only when your vision blurs do you feel manic.
Not now, you think. I need to see the stars. I need to see them. You look wildly at the stars, hungry for more of their splendor. As you devour the peaceful sight, you feel your heart slowing. It's a strange sensation, actually being able to feel your body die.
Your last thoughts are calming. You're not alone, not really. The stars are your companion, your friend. You're breathing slows further and your vision goes black. Soon, you stop hearing the whistling wind. Just before your eyes had shut for the last time, you saw a pattern in the stars. It was a face, a very enthralling face. It looked so young, yet seemed to have the wisdom of one who lived for centuries. You're not sure if it was male or female, but it doesn't matter. You only caught a glimpse of the face in the stars for a single second before your eyes uncontrollably close. As your brain shuts down and your breathing begins to cease, you hold the image of the face in your head. The stars had given you one last parting gift, and you were going to hold onto that riveting visage until your last breath.
The face, you will never realize, the pattern in the stars is not just a pattern. There is a body connected to that face, a very solid and very much alive body. Unlike the face, the body was hideous to look upon. The creature's physique was mangled; it was black, bloody, and certainly not human. Its eyes displayed an intense hunger, immensely different from the hunger your own eyes exhibited when you were watching the stars. This monster's hunger was malicious. Its glowing yellow eyes raked over your dead body, as if contemplating a very important decision.
Slowly, it crept up to the carcass –your carcass– and after making sure you were indeed dead, a smile alighted on its face. Rows of sharp, faded red teeth could be seen. Its kind had wondered the galaxy for eons, searching for a delicacy that can sustain their never-ending appetite. They found that human flesh was not only nutritious, but delicious too. Out of all the life forms they had devoured in the universe, human beings were considered most mouthwatering. This particular creature had an inclination for freshly deceased human meat. Though its focus is currently on your fresh cadaver, before long it will continue on its way, underneath the radiant lights, consuming each and every body it finds on that hilltop.