Hush:
Born of Mud
The rain splashed on the ground soaking everything. It was funny how one little drop of water can't do much but when many of them fall together, the world is soaked. It continued to fall turning the dirt floor of the forest into a muddy slog. But that was no problem for the ghost. The rain hit its gold and black shell splashing off, running down, and dripping to the forest floor below. He'd been searching for a long time for an individual worth raising as his guardian. This forest was once a war zone. There were still massive craters from the ordinance detonating in the fields. Rusted husks of weaponized vehicles littered the fields. Trees were lying on their sides and others were scorched.
The ghost thought this would be a good place to find someone worthy of being a guardian. He'd already scanned three hundred seventy-three bodies but none of them were worthy of the light. None of them had that connection. It's been a few hundred years since the ghost was created and half a planet away but he could feel that he was close to his guardian. He started moving to the last of the bodies. These were tucked back in trees off to the side of the battle. He scanned the bodies and on the third body, he felt… connected.
He could feel this spark inside the body that mirrored the spark within himself. This was it! This was his Guardian. He scanned the body, pouring light into the corpse buried in the mud. All that remained above the surface was the camouflaged cloak. He kept the light flowing in until he felt it grab hold. Until he felt it fill the body and bring them back. A hand shot out of the mud above the head. It slapped down in the mud sinking slightly and it pushed the rest of the body up.
The rain began washing off the mud revealing the black sleeve underneath. The mud shifted and a second elbow rose from the mud. It mirrored the other and with a massive shove the mud shifted further and a body rose from the slop. At first, it was just a mound of black mud but the rain began to wash it off. Slowly the mud thinned leaving an outline of a body behind. The body pushed itself to its knees and reached its hands up to wipe away the mud still caked to the visor. The ghost excitedly flew down to the guardian hovering in front of the guardian's visor. "I found you! Oh, I'm so happy!" the ghost said.
"What...Who...Who are you?" the guardian said. His voice was deep and gravelly.
"I'm Mitano. I'm a ghost, well, your ghost that is."
"My what?"
"Ghost. They said you wouldn't remember anything before being I'm not sure how to put this gently so here it goes. You were dead, and I found you. I'm a ghost. I was part of a great machine called the traveller. There was a great war and the traveller sacrificed itself to bring it to a temporary end. Then it sent us out to find those worthy of wielding its light. And I found you."
"I'm...worthy?"
"Yes! You are. I'd been looking for hundreds of years and scanned hundreds of thousands of bodies. Yours was the only one that I was connected too. So I brought you back."
"Wow. You said wielding the travellers light. What is that?"
Mitano turned around quickly and looked at the sky. "There's a Fallen Ketch coming in. You need to take cover."
"A Fallen what?"
"A dropship. For aliens that would shoot you in the face as soon as they see you so GET DOWN!" The guardian dove to the side underneath the branches of a tree. Once he got under the branches he heard a high pitched whine as the rain was whipped around the clearing he was just in. The wind blew the air around as the sound passed overhead. "They're stopping and dispatching. You need to arm yourself. Quickly!"
The guardian had no idea what was going on but he trusted his ghost. He's not sure why, he couldn't remember anything, but he knew he could trust Mitano. He looked over the clearing where the ship had disturbed the mud. He saw the handle of a sidearm sitting in the mud and quickly crossed the clearing and grabbed the gun's handle. He pulled it out of the mud but it was rusted and broken. It wasn't going to be any good for him.
He tossed the handle away and looked around again. There weren't any other items around but there were bodies sitting in the mud, recently uncovered from the wind of the ship. The armor was black and they had camouflage cloaks on their backs. He felt sadness but couldn't tell why. He assumed that he'd known these people in his first life but he couldn't remember them. One of them had a knife in a sheath strapped to its chest. He looked down to see he too had a knife strapped to his chest. He pulled the knife out of the sheath but the blade was broken.
He crawled to the body and pulled the knife from the sheath there. The blade came out and it was clean and intact. He slipped the knife into his sheath on his chest and started searching over the body for another weapon. As he shifted the armor he found a hole in the stomach of the body armor. It had scorch marks surrounding the hole. He quickly looked down at his own armor but there were no holes in the armor. "There is a hole in the back of your armor and through your cloak," Mitano said as though reading his thoughts.
He stripped the cloak off his back and grabbed the cloak off this body. He covered it in mud and pulled it onto his back. He wasn't sure how he knew to do the things he was but he wasn't about to argue. He crawled back to the tree, keeping low so the mud on the cloak could disguise his body on the ground. He caked it on thick so the rain wouldn't wash it off as quickly. He got up against the tree trunk and peered out into the field.
Creatures hit the ground as he peered out. He felt an instant rage and hate but again, he wasn't sure why. There were four dregs, small creatures with two arms and legs holding pistols and knives. Under their arms were two small extensions with metal caps over top. They had four eyes each and spiky hair. There were three vandals. These creatures were slightly taller than the dregs that landed before. They too had four eyes but instead of the silver caps under the dregs arms, these ones had a second set of arms. They also wore a helmet that was angular with fins protruding from the sides. These vandals carried rifles as apposed to the pistols the dregs carried. The last one that dropped down was much larger than the vandals. This captain wore a bright red cape and a larger helm. It too had four arms but as it hit the mud the rain was stopping just short of the captain. Each drop glowed slightly blue before sliding to the ground as though off a glass bubble surrounding the Captain.
The Captain barked out orders in a language that the Guardian didn't understand and the dregs began to spread out, their eyes scanning the woods. As they spread out the vandals began to scan and spread out slightly behind them. They were moving much slower, pulling their rifles to their eyes and scanning the area. The captain pulled his rifle to his shoulder and began looking around the group as they expanded.
One of the dregs was moving toward the guardian. His gun and knife were both lowered. It obviously wasn't expecting trouble. Too bad for it. As it pushed through the brush up to where the guardian was hiding it noticed the guardians shape too late. The mud and dark armor made it easy for the guardian to hide. As the dreg noticed the guardian he started to bring his pistol to bear but the guardian was already moving. He grabbed the top of the pistol keeping it aimed at the ground while he brought the knife up. The tip of the knife connected the bottom of the dregs jaw. It dug in and the guardian continued to force the blade up. The knife pierced through the dreg's skin. The guardian felt the blade pop through the skin and again as it breached what must have been the palate on the roof of the dregs mouth and into the brain. The dreg went limp and the guardian pulled the pistol from the dregs hand and let the body fall.
He sheathed his knife and stepped out from behind the tree and he leveled the pistol. He fired four quick shots. Two dregs hit the ground as their heads burst and a white gas flooded from within the dregs breathing apparatus. A reddish-purple liquid, the dregs blood, splattered into the mud, quickly lost. The last two rounds slammed into a vandals chest. That same reddish-purple blood sprayed from the wounds as the body fell back into the mud and was still.
Now the other dregs and vandals were turning toward the guardian along with the captain. They cursed out in their own language and raised their rifles. The vandals and dregs opened fire but the rounds were slower than bullets, flying slow enough the guardian was able to spin to the side missing the shots. He fired twice more and two remaining dregs fell. One with a headshot and the other was hit center mass in the chest. More white gas, more fallen blood as the last two dregs fell.
The two remaining vandals shot again. The guardian spun to the side again but as he was stopping the captain fired his own rifle. The round was heading straight for the guardian but stopped just short of his chest. You have an over shield that can absorb a few shots before it fades. Once it fades you'll take direct damage that, if fatal, will kill you but I will be able to raise you again after. The thoughts were in his head instantly in Mitano's voice. A benefit of the direct link between guardian and ghost.
Smiling, the guardian pulled the trigger three more times. One of the vandals spun out of the way and the shot passed by where he was just earlier without harming anyone. The second vandal attempted to do so as well but the second round caught him in the leg and as he was stumbling the final round hit his back left shoulder. The vandal fired another shot and the energy dissipated on the shield. He could almost see how much energy the shield had thanks to the ghost's connection. The Guardian charged forward rather than reload his pistol.
He jumped into the air, higher than he thought possible, and he came down on the vandal that was still standing. He swung his left fist at the vandal's head connecting with the right side of its face. He grabbed the top of the rifle and yanked hard. The gun broke free from the vandal's grasp and the guardian swung it like a bat connecting with the vandals head. The apparatus broke and white gas burst into the surrounding air. The guardian spun the rifle around and brought it to his shoulder. He fired one round at the vandal he was fighting and the round tore through its neck. Fallen blood burst out the back of the vandal's neck.
He turned the rifle to the vandal lying on the ground who was wounded previously and fired two shots into its chest and a third one into the creature's head. The body went limp and blood began to infuse with the mud around it. The guardian turned back toward the previous vandal to get ready to address the captain when he noticed that some of the blood splatters from the vandal's neck hadn't fallen to the ground as it was supposed to but rather held in place in the air. The splatter was moving towards the guardian and as soon as he realized this he felt three hard slashes against his body. The shield was instantly depleted. He was exposed.
The guardian fired the rifle at the floating splatter and a mist of fallen blood appeared in the air behind it. The cloak failed and the marauder was exposed. He was like the other vandals but his helmet was rounded on the sides and he had a cloak covering his back with the cowl pulled over his helm. He fell back to the ground, the twin blades that he wielded in his upper arms splashed into the mud. Then the guardian felt it, piercing pain in his shoulder and stomach.
He looked down and could see two bloody wounds, one in the front of his shoulder and one in his stomach. He looked around at what could have shot him but he didn't see what had hit him. The land around him was distorted but he wasn't sure if that was something to be concerned with or if that was just his blood loss. But then the captain stepped up.
He said some stuff in that odd language as he approached. The distortions suddenly faded and two more marauders were standing where the distortion once was. Their blades were stabbed into his body where the blood was coming from. The captain made a noise that resembled laughter and raised his hand. The marauders pushed their blades deeper and the guardians vision turned black as he experienced death for second time.
Suddenly light filled his eyes. He jerked upright and saw the captain and the two marauders walking away from him. From the neural link the guardian knew the ghost brought him back again. He knew the ghost would time and time again. But the sensation of dying. The dark, the cold, the feeling of the last bit of our life exiting your body, it was torture. He made a promise to himself right then, no more dying. The ghost would bring him back but it wasn't necessary as he was never going to die again.
He saw the captain and the marauders walking away, their backs to him. They were walking away, relaxed, almost joyous. Glad that they'd killed another human. Or at least thought they'd killed one. The guardian was so angry. So upset that they were so smug in killing. He feels like he'd known people who enjoyed blood before and that it ended badly. He felt an energy inside him swell. It felt like it was burning up inside of him. He wanted to stop them. He wanted to stop them and make sure they never hurt anyone again.
The ketch that they'd dropped in from was hovering in the air. As they stopped beneath it the air distorted again as they began to be pulled into the air. They were going to get away. The Guardian couldn't allow that. He felt the energy building inside of him, ready to burst. He needed to let it out. And he needed to stop the ketch. He pointed his hand up at the ship and allowed the energy to leave him from the palm of his hand.
A beam of orange, blue, and purple energy leapt from his hand and flew towards the ketch. The captain and the marauders were only halfway up to the ketch when the beam hit. The guardian didn't know what would happen when the beam connected but was pleasantly surprised when it slammed into the metal and passed through into the ship. A moment later the hull began to bulge and fire and smoke leapt from the cracks that were appearing all over its body. The panels began separating. It looked as though it would burst and it did shortly later. An explosion shook the ground and flung rain, mud, and debris across the field. The guardian knew that this was the light but it surprised even him how powerful it could be.
The three fallen that were in the air fell back to the ground. One marauder landed on a fallen tree, a thick branch piercing it through the chest, impaling it. The other two hit the ground just as the debris from the destroyed ship rained down around them. One chunk of metal slammed down on the marauder. He was gone in a second, no sign of its body under the heavy panel. A second later another chunk of metal slams down on the captain. A flash of blue is seen and then he goes down, buried under the frame of the ship.
A few metal shards slammed into the ground around the guardian, a few even stabbing into him or glancing off his armor but nothing too serious. He pulls the shards out and the ghost healed him up a few seconds later. He stood up straight and began to brush the mud off and started walking towards the fallen ketch to look for anything he can scavenge.
As he walked in he could hear the grunting of the captain buried somewhere in the burning husk of the ship. He approached the bent and warped frame and looked in. The captain was still alive, pinned beneath some bent metal, the fire approaching. He was reaching for a bag that was secured to what the guardian assumed used to be a piece of wall. There were only three feet between the captain's arm and the bag but it might as well have been a mile. The metal pinning the captain to the ground was piercing down on his right shoulder, his chest plate was broken, exposing his chitin covered chest. Half the helmet was broken as well, pieces missing exposing the bleeding skin underneath.
The guardian climbed into the wreckage and approached the captain. Staying out of reach of the one remaining flailing arm, he walked over to the bag. He opened it up and peered inside, and smiled. He reached in and pulled out a black and green hand cannon. He opened the cylinder to see if it was loaded. It had ten rounds in the cylinder but three were spent. That's fine, he still had the seven here and the bag was filled with ammo and other guns and they were all in good condition.
He took the bag off the wall and slung it over his shoulder. It wasn't as heavy as he expected it to be. Was that the light making him stronger? He didn't know but he was grateful. He turned to the captain who was swinging wildly at the guardian, trying to hit him. "Now that's no way to treat the only one who can help you is it?" the guardian said cooly.
The captain started screaming at him in that same unknown language. "Do you speak english? Can you communicate? Maybe some sign language?" the guardian continued. The captain continued speaking in his own tongue. The guardian leveled his revolver at the captain's head and pulled the trigger. The gun rang out as the bullet pierced the captains head. There would have been more white mist bursting from the wound except it had already leaked out.
The blood from the shot splashed up and hit the guardians visor on his helmet. He turned and climbed out from the wreckage before he was caught in the fire. He pulled his helmet off to clean it up and after wiping the visor off he noticed a small tin plate bolted to the back of the helmet just above the neck. It said his name, but just one name: HUSH. He didn't know if it was his first or last name or even if it was his real name, but it was a name. And he was making it his.
The weapons that the fallen had in the bag were new, they were kept clean. That means that there has to be humans out there in the world. "You ready Spooks?" Hush asked his ghost.
"Yes, let's go find some others." Mitano answered. So, shouldering his bag or weapons he looked around at the battleground one last time before walking toward the horizon as the rain stopped and the sun began to shine.