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The Closing Gates (short story)

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I wrote this in 1996... its outdated...

10:00 pm July 4, 2000 AD

It’s dusk as I look across the purple sands toward the large weapons factory. This weapons factory once was used for our own forces, but now it has been taken over by those we oppose. Even though when our government opened the factory, it was intended to create a stockpile of weapons. There is nothing like having the biggest gun on the block to intimidate a whole city. Now the factory’s weapons were put in use; to defend the massive population from invading forces.

The factory creates large nuclear warheads, which the enemy forces have been using to exterminate us.

My government has decided to send in a lone soldier, because that lone soldier would have an excellent chance of surviving against the large patrol ships surrounding the factory. I am this lone soldier, and my mission is to get inside of the factory, and then destroy it. I used the word survive loosely, I will not survive this mission, but my government wants me to survive long enough to destroy the factory.

I am equipped with infa-red goggles, and bright blue armor that is 20 mm thick. It’s bright blue and filled with cooling gel, because the aliens do not see in color, they only see in heat. My chosen side arms are a 9mm. Pistol and a double barreled shotgun. The aliens do not wear armor, their bodies are frail. Their bodies are supported by cartilage, if I get close enough to one, I could probably crush them with my bare hands, or my boots if it comes to it.

The guard house was the only way into the factory, other than the concrete walls electrified on the sides with cables or being dropped from the sky and being shot to ribbons from the patrol ships overhead.

Now I am much closer to the factory and I can clearly see two mancubus and a giant walking arachnatron at the guardhouse that rests in front of the warehouse. The aliens may have frail bodies, but they have amazing technology. Fortunately, I planned for this. With me, I’ve also brought more heat incase of situations like this. I have a rocket launcher strapped to my back.

I know that from where I am, the twin mancubus cannot see me, but it is only a matter of time before the patrolling arachnatron can see me. The arachnatron towers over everything, eight legs connected to a steel frame, with its body fixed onto the frame. It’s half organic, and half metal, but its all from Hell as far as I’m concerned. The aliens made it wisely, because it looks like a spider to terrify those who would come near it, making it easy to scare city leaders into triggering an evacuation. It’s easier to take over an unpopulated city. If some citizens hid inside of their sky scrapers thinking they were safe, the arachnatrons would cling to the sides of the buildings to catch business heads hiding in their offices made of glass and steel.

The frame of the arachnatron, painted ghastly with blue tones of souls crying. The aliens are intelligent, and their talent for art amazed the scientists when the aliens first appeared at the bases of Mars. The first aliens to meet with the people of our planet were greeted with the aliens forming complex designs on blank canvases before the eyes of onlookers and global television. I was not impressed by the art; I’m not impressed by the giant walking spider either.

In the blink of an eye, I quickly pull the rocket launcher from off of my back and point it at the extremely large spider. I pull the silver trigger, launching a rocket into the organic face of the arachnatron.

The loud piercing screams of the arachnatron filled the air as the explosion began to start. Once the rocket went off on the face of the half robotic monster, the twin mancubus began to launch puffy red fireballs from its cannons in every direction. They fired, spraying in my general direction, because they still can’t see me on the horizon of the desert.

After shooting the first rocket, I ran toward the guardhouse. The spider still towered over the guardhouse, trying to regain it’s composure from the rocket. While the arachnatron’s organic tissue may have been extinguished, the mechanical portion of it was still alive. It was now set to auto pilot.

I’m reloading my rocket launcher as run to the guard house. I can also see more clearly the two large mancubus near the guardhouse, but they still cannot see me. This is my first time seeing a mancubus, none of the intelligence officers had been able to provide me with a photo of them, just a warning of what they are. I was warned that they were large body suits worn by the aliens, making them more dangerous with their large arm cannons. What I wasn’t told is how large the body suits are. It’s as if the aliens were heavily padded, enough to stop bullets, or shot gun blasts. I wasn’t warned of how much taller the mancubus are compared to the average human.

It doesn’t matter; I took aim with my rocket launcher again, this time at one of the mancubus. I fired off another rocket and hit the mancubus in its massive padded stomach, and then it blew up inside of him. Chunks of the suit splattered everywhere. However, the alien inside was still alive. It was shaken heavily, but not dead and now it spotted me.

The mancubus aimed for me with both of its fireball cannons and then began to fire at me. Then the arachnatron composed itself enough to discover where I am. It then began to shoot at me with its rotating chain guns on each side of its head.

I am running off to the left, still carrying my equipment and the bullets as large red fireballs fly past me. Now that I have a chance, I reload my rocket launcher again, just as the second mancubus has spotted me.

When I raised my arm again to launch off another rocket, I still can see the gates of the factory closing. I fired off a third rocket, which hit the spider in its face again, but because the organic tissue was already dead, there was little effect. It continued to pelt out bullets at me.

As the gates kept closing, the two mancubus slowly began to walk away from the guardhouse toward me, still launching fireballs.

I have now run up to the tall wall that surrounds the weapons factory. There is enough cover near the wall to reload my rocket launcher with a fourth rocket. I can no longer see any mancubus or the large spider, because the three of them were still in front of the guardhouse, while I am now far away from the guardhouse.

A mancubus disturbed my safety, as its now stepped out from the front of the guardhouse and we can both see each other. Instead of shooting him with the rocket launcher, I pointed it at the guardhouse and then pulled the trigger. The rocket was propelled through one of the windows, and blew up inside of it, destroying the guard house in a red blaze. Hunks of wood flew about, one hitting the mancubus, knocking it to the ground.

As the area is burning in flames, I take out the last rocket, and load it into the launcher. I run toward the flaming rubble to enter the gates before they are finally closed.

I ran near the front guardhouse, I can see the arachnatron, and the remaining mancubus standing in front of the blaze. The arachnatron’s body was set on the ground, with the side of the steel frame splitting, to reveal the forces inside. Dozens of aliens poured out of the body of the frame.

The first alien out of the orb is their leader, standing before them, looking at me. The mancubus beside the dead arachnatron stood still, waiting for a gesture to begin firing again. The alien has his arms out, to calm the others; it is still looking at me. The alien swirled his hands creating a small ball of red light in front of his body. I didn’t want to see what the ball of light was; I lifted my rocket launcher and fired it into the body of the lead alien.

The rocket obliterated the leader, along with every other alien next to his body. I started my dash toward the gate, but dozens of alien bodies stopped me from entering. The gate closed, my mission has failed, until there is another opportunity when the gates are open to put out another shipment of nuclear weapons, the world’s population will continue to be exterminated.

This is my last day as a lone soldier. This is my last day.

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