I DO NOT OWN STARGIRL. SHOUTOUT TO ANIMALCRUNCH12 FOR ALL THEIR WORK.
Blue Valley, Nebraska. 3 nights later.
A few nights after Courtney's disastrous introduction to his family, another life-changing event occurred in Zach Bogumill's life. The only difference was he had no idea it'd happened. It was late at night in Blue Valley, and most of the citizens were sound asleep. Thus, no one had noticed a meteorite barreling towards the town, a fiery streak in the twilight sky, crashing directly in the backyard of the Bogumill's. The space rock oddly didn't make very much noise, forming a small indent into the Earth. The household remained quiet, those inside sleeping through it.
All except for one.
Bob Bogumill awoke, squinting through the sleep in his eyes at the bright light streaming across his window. Slowly, he sat up, watching the space object land right in his backyard. Bob rose to his feet, discreet as to not wake his sleeping wife. He snuck down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing a Tupperware container to collect the meteor in. Outside, a smokey haze had gathered, and Bob found it a little hard to breathe in the air around him. He approached the small crater formed by the meteor.
"Holy shit," Bob whispered, astound. His eyes flared, his ears perking at the slightest crackling of the rock. Through the thin fissure, a trail of dark fluid flowed out. Except it wasn't a liquid at all. It came across like water, a spiny and rich onyx pouring out more and more until it moved. Moved as if it had sentience, lurching at Bob.
"Damn!" Bob yelped, quickly trapping the space goo into the Tupperware container. He held it up at an arm's distance, observing how the container stained black jumbled under his grip. Whatever this thing is, it was fighting to escape. Bob pressed the Tupperware container against his chest, struggling to carry the weight of it into his house.
As silent as a mouse, he retreated into his study. Bob placed the Tupperware container down on his desk, turning to lock the door and boot up his computer. He hoped there could be some crack-pot conspiracy or fancy scientist who can tell him what in the Hell this thing could be. Bob went on Bing, searching for answers. He'd tried black goo, black goo that moved by itself, and black space goo that moved by itself—nothing had matched up to the substance currently taking up residency in one of his wife's Tupperware containers.
"What is this thing that I've found?" Bob muttered. He continued to search the internet for any clues he might've missed upon his first three tries.
Shutting off his computer, Bob mused over someone who might know. Peter, an old high school friend who lived in Omaha, was very passionate about biology and practically knows every living thing to have been discovered on Earth. Bob knew it was way too late to give him a call, but he vowed to do it first thing in the morning.
In the meantime, Bob decided to give this thing a name.
"Okay." Bob stroked the length of his chin, staring at the stained container. "Let's see what I can come up with." He pulled up Google Translate on his phone, switching to the Latin setting. Bob has always found himself fascinated by the language.
"How about," Bob paused, thinking it over before typing in an idea, "darkness?" He smiled faintly at the translation.
Tenebris.
"That sounds pretty cool of a name." Bob gazed down at the container. "It's decided. From now on, this pile of space goo will shall be henceforth and forever known as Tenebris!" He grinned proudly as the space goo never stopped moving for a second.
BOB HAS MADE A DISCOVERY...WHAT WILL BECOME OF IT? REVIEWS NEEDED AND APPRECIATED.
