Marcus sat staring out the window at the landscape 35,000 feet below, idly sipping the drink in his hand, admiring the stars, and pondering what he was going to do once he saw his ex-wife again. Several years before, her and he had divorced, agreeing to split custody of their 5-year-old daughter. He, of course, thought that this was bullshit. He had thought his daughter saw his side as well but had been proven wrong when she burst into tears on the witness stand after being asked who she wanted to live with. It had been decided, after hours of debate, to split custody down the middle. It was unfair though, because he had been there with his daughter while his wife was out riding around with rich white assholes and acting like a gold digger. He shook off the unpleasant thought and focused on the more positive side, the fact that he would be able to see his daughter after 3 whole months away. He was focusing on this thought as the flight hostess pushed the cart up the aisle. "Would you care for another drink sir?" the hostess asked.
Marcus thought for a moment and, with a carless tilt of his head said "Sure, why not?" Marcus replied.
The hostess took the cup from his outstretched hand and poured some more brandy from a glass bottle with a topper into it. "Here you are sir." the hostess responded.
Marcus thanked her with a nod of his head and turned back to the window. Several hours passed without incident and, after several more drinks, had a pleasant buzz going. Resigning himself to an awful morning, he ordered yet another drink. As he was sipping his newly ordered drink and casually reading a magazine that was stashed in the back of the seat ahead of him, he felt a slight rumble flow through the plane. "Must be turbulence." Marcus idly thought.
Shortly after, a stronger rumble went down the plain. Suddenly, the intercom overhead buzzed and in a fuzzy voice, stated that they were going through a rough patch of weather and that it was nothing to worry about. A few more minutes went passed without incident when the intercom buzzed to life again. This time, instead of hearing the captains voice, he heard a strange sound that slowly went up in pitch until it was barely audible. The captains voice then came out and stated that they must have picked up a stray transmission, and for no one to pay it any attention. Marcus was not sure that was even possible, but if the captain said so, it must have some standing in fact. He looked around at his fellow passengers and noted that they all seemed unusually nervous. In an attempt to alleviate their fears, Marcus yawned loudly and ordered another drink. Unfortunately, this did not seem to work the way he intended, as other passengers stared at him oddly.
A third wave of vibrations went through the plane and settled in the wings. A flash of light went through the window and a thunderclap sounded through the cabin. Buckling himself, Marcus prepared for the worst. The intercom buzzed once again and, again, the strange noise sounded, rising in pitch until it was barely audible. Several flight attendants hurried up to the front of the plain and then the buckle seat belt light flashed on. Several nervous mutterings sounded throughout the cabin and Marcus heard the clicking of seat belts throughout the plane.
The plane then shuddered, and Marcus heard a loud bang. Looking out of the window Marcus thought he saw something in the clouds, but he could not be sure. Then, the lights abruptly flickered out and the engine shuddered to a halt. Several people screamed throughout the plane and Marcus braced himself against the seat in front of him, expecting to feel the plane start falling. Only, that did not happen. Several minutes passed before he realized that the plane was not moving.
Looking outside, Marcus tried to see the sky, only it was wrong. A few moments passed before Marcus registered what he saw. There were no stars in the sky, only inky blackness. In fact, Marcus didn't see the ground either. A few moments passed before he realized that he could not see the sky, nor ground, nor anything outside. It was as if a black sheet had been draped over the window. Marcus shoved his immediate panic down and tried to piece it together logically. Sure, he couldn't see outside, but it had been night when that happened. It was only natural that he couldn't see outside. That, combined with the alcohol, would impair his vision into seeing things that weren't there, Marcus assured himself, ignoring the fact that he was the only one who wasn't panicking.
The other passengers, unfortunately, weren't looking at things logically. They were busy panicking and yelling about cell service, or rather, the lack thereof. Several members of the staff hurried down the aisle, yelling about one thing or another. Marcus sat stunned, still trying to piece things together. The fact of the matter was there was nothing logical about this situation.
Marcus felt the backup generators buzzed on. The intercom buzzed to life again and the same creepy noise from before played again, starting low and then rising in pitch until it could not be heard. Through the screams accompanying the sound, a deep, basso roar sounded, so deep the plane shuddered. It was a roar of pure, malevolent rage. Marcus glanced outside the window. He could not comprehend what he saw.
He could make out a waving limb, no, a tentacle. Several tentacles. Several tentacles waving about like snakes toward the plane. When Marcus tried to glance at its body, he got the worst headache he ever had, originating behind his eyes, and pulsing outward toward his temples. Grimacing, he glanced away from the window into the cabin, viewing the chaos that had arose. Several people were clutching at their eyes, several were laughing hysterically at a joke that only they could understand, and still others had glazed looks on their faces, like they were not seeing what was in front of them, and yet still others had simply perished in their seats, the ghost of their last expressions chiseled onto their faces.
It seemed only Marcus was left aware of what was going on around him. Still having a headache, he undid his belt and staggered upright. Stumbling toward the front of the plane, Marcus closed his eyes whenever he passed by a window. As Marcus got to the curtain separating the cockpit from the rest of the plane, he drew it aside and saw the pilots sitting slouched in their seats, dead. The navigation equipment was going haywire, the compass spinning in complete disorder, the speedometer was saying they weren't moving, and the Hud showed the plane upside-down.
Out the window, he saw it again. As soon as he set his eyes on it his vision flickered and shone scarlet and every hue of color imaginable. He collapsed to his knees, dazed, and he felt a pressure in his head, and he felt the things thoughts, rage and anger mixed with curiosity. He felt it examine his thoughts, each one whirling through his head and being sucked into the being's incomprehensible mind. As he sat there dazed, he felt a spike of rage course through the primordial being, and with a lash of its claws, it swatted the plane as you might a fly.