Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet

by Matthew Kadish

  Zarrod stood before Anna, looking down at her with his blazing red eyes. “Break the seal,” he commanded.

  No, thought Anna desperately. She struggled with all her might as her body responded immediately to the Deathlord’s command. She walked to the middle of the open area before the seal and called forth a kiosk, which rose from the floor. A white orb of energy sprang to life above the small pillar, and Anna reached out and placed her hands upon it.

  Immediately, she was tuned into the room around her, her consciousness whisked away into the Ancient construct within the orb. She found herself floating in a dark void before a circle of light, a single eye at its center. She looked into it, and it met her gaze, unmoving. In the eye, she caught a glimpse of something – something fantastic, and wonderful, and peaceful. Her heart thumped the way it did when she witnessed a thing of such amazing beauty that it affirmed everything it meant to be alive.

  She reached out to it, wanting to grab it – to possess it. The eye came closer, as though responding to her desire. Anna could feel the eagerness growing inside her as the eye approached. Yes, she thought. Yes, I must have it… I must!

  The eye stopped before her, big, and bright, and beautiful. She reached out and touched it, the thing she wanted danced in its iris, far behind it.

  “Give it to me,” she heard herself say.

  She laid her hands on it, and veins of gold began to ripple from the spot she touched, spider webbing throughout the eye.

  “GIVE IT TO ME!” she screamed, her heart pounding. She’d never felt emotions like those she was experiencing that very moment. Pure and utter desire coursed through her, along with a burning jealousy, and the need to completely possess the thing that lay behind that eye.

  No, called out a tiny voice in the back of her mind.

  Anna’s breath caught in her throat. What was that? Who had spoken? She turned her attention back to the glimpse of beauty within the eye. She pushed on it harder, the veins growing brighter, slowly turning into cracks in its visage, spreading and growing as she pushed harder and harder.

  No, came the voice again. This time, it was clearer, and she could not ignore it.

  It was her own voice.

  “But I want it,” she said. “I must have it!”

  You can’t.

  She pushed harder. The golden cracks in the eye began to splinter deeper around her hands.

  “It’s so beautiful…”

  You must not release it.

  “Why? Why shouldn’t I?”

  Because of him.

  Anna turned away from the eye and looked behind her, and for the first time noticed the grotesque visage of a Deathlord there. His skin was black and wrinkled, his muscles tightly wound and sinewy. His face was that of a twisted skull, no nose, no lips, just red eyes gazing at the eye before her greedily. Its hands were dug deep into her back, and she could feel them trying to control her, to move her body and her thoughts to suit its own purpose.

  Anna felt a shiver of revulsion run up her spine. Was this what was controlling her? What was it? How did it get there?

  It wants you to destroy the seal, her voice said. If you do, all will be lost.

  Anna looked up at the eye as it splintered and cracked, ready to shatter into pieces any moment. Deep inside her, she knew she was right. Unleashing what was behind that seal, no matter how amazing, would give the Deathlords what they needed to destroy everything she held dear.

  Suddenly, images flashed into her mind. Images of her father, and how he held court upon his throne, making decisions that affected an entire galaxy. Images of the digital paintings of the great Emperors of old that lined the hallways of the palace that she had played in when she was young – these men, who reigned with strength and wisdom, who fought to protect those who had placed trust in their leadership.

  Anna gazed into the eye before her, looking beyond that thing of beauty - into a deeper universe, one filled with things she could not understand or comprehend. But there, within the chaos of the visions present within the eye, she saw her family...

  Not just her parents and her brothers, but the very line of men and women who had forged her birthright: rulers of strength and wisdom, warriors of ruthlessness and cunning, devotees of purity and moral fortitude. Tens of thousands of generations – they all stood before her, arrayed in a bloodline filled with a pulsing power - a power that belonged to her, a power that had eluded her for so long, and one of which she was not sure she was worthy. A power that burned so brightly and brilliantly, the thought of possessing it sent shivers of fear coursing through her body.

  You are the Blood of the Ancients, she could hear herself whisper in her mind. You are the light that shines in the darkness. You are the beacon within the storm. You are the protector of all life. This is your duty. This is your destiny. It is time for you to claim it!

  She felt the Deathlord’s claws moving inside her. They tried to make her press harder, to break the seal, to ignore the last remnants of her own consciousness.

  Anna gritted her teeth. With all her might, she pressed back against the Deathlord. She pulled her hands back, away from the eye, straining with every fiber of her being. She felt like she were fighting against a massive weight, something attempting to crush her as she tried to hold it back. She could feel the tightness in her chest and the blood pumping behind her ears as she fought to control her movements.

  She heard the Deathlord behind her cry out, a dry rasp of agony, as though her struggle against it brought it pain. Yes, she thought. Fight it. Hurt it!

  Anna reached back behind her, her hands groping around, settling on either side of the Deathlord’s head. She could feel it struggle, its claws buried deep inside her trying desperately to control her. She fought against it harder, her hands gripping its head as strongly as she could.

  “I am Glorianna of Legacy Prime, heir to the bloodline of the Ancients. I will no longer be your slave! By my command, you WILL let me go!” she screamed, and with every last bit of strength left in her, she pulled on the Deathlord’s head. She heard the gasp of a mouth with no tongue, as the Deathlord tried to cry out. She pulled more forcefully, and could feel the creature’s neck giving way as she tugged, harder and harder…

  “I said… LET… GO!”

  With a final burst of energy, she yanked the Deathlord’s head forward, ripping it off. She felt a shiver run through her as the void around her disappeared.

  Suddenly, she was back in the arena. Her body completely numb, she fell to the floor. The orb she had been interfacing with disappeared and the kiosk sank back into the ground.

  Her head buzzed and her vision circled around in a dizzy stupor. She focused on the great seal before her. It stood, its smooth white stone now marred and spider webbed with large, gaping cracks, each one pulsing with a brilliant white light as though whatever was behind it was fighting to break through.

  She pushed herself up to a sitting position as the Deathlord Supreme looked down at her. She met his gaze defiantly.

  “The seal stands,” she said. “Kill me now. I will not do your bidding.”

  Zarrod chuckled. “Impressive,” he said. “But futile. Look before you, Princess…” the Deathlord swept his hand toward the seal. “The seal is all but broken. Whatever protection your ancestors had fortified it with is now gone, thanks to your efforts. I can merely flick my wrist and destroy what is left. You have served your purpose well.”

  Anna’s shoulders slumped. She felt so tired, so very tired. All the fight had gone out of her. She’d failed. She’d failed her family, her bloodline, and all who had placed their faith in her - now the entire universe would suffer because of it. Tears welled in her eyes. She hadn’t been worthy after all.

  “And now, I’m going to do what I’ve wanted since the moment I laid eyes on you,” said Zarrod. “I’m going to kill you, Princess. I’m going to rip the life out of you and swallow it whole. But before I do, I’m going to teach you a lesson in agony…”

  Zarr
od reached out his clawed hand. Anna jerked as she felt thousands of razor sharp invisible hooks dig into her. She gasped as she was lifted into the air before the Deathlord Supreme, his horrible eyes burning into her as she stared back at him helplessly.

  “No one defies me,” sneered Zarrod. “Especially not a weak, heretical abomination such as you!”

  Anna screamed. Excruciating pain coursed through her body as the Deathlord used his evil magic to tear at the inner core of her being.

  “I’m going to make this slow, and I’m going to make this last,” said Zarrod over her screams. “I’m going to open your eyes to a new meaning of pain and anguish never before witnessed by any living thing. And by the time I’m through, you will be begging me to snuff out your pitiful existence, and give you the sweet release only death can provide.”

  Anna stopped screaming as Zarrod briefly stopped his torture. Anna looked at him, her eyes wide with terror, darkness beginning to creep into the edges of her vision.

  “Any last words, while you’re still able to speak?” asked the Deathlord.

  Anna’s mind was clouded with pain. Images flashed before her: hazy ones of her family – her brothers, her mother, her father. And finally, the image of Shepherd, the man who’d been her protector. The man she had loved above all others. If she had to die, she wanted to do so with his image in her head and his name on her lips.

  She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, another voice rang out.

  “Hey, jerk-face.”

  Zarrod turned away from Anna and looked down to his side where Jack stood, hands on his hips, glaring at the Deathlord with the same intensity he’d direct at something foul caked on the bottom of his shoe. Zarrod tilted his head, momentarily surprised at the sudden reappearance of the little alien boy.

  “Pick on someone your own size,” said Jack.

  Zarrod heard the sound of an electric ping humming to life behind him. He turned to see Grohm there, a massive club in his hand, ringed with conduits crackling with blue electricity.

  Before the Deathlord could react, Grohm swung the club, slamming into Zarrod’s chest.

  WHAM!

  With an explosion of electric current, Zarrod went flying into the air, twisting and turning as the force of the impact sent him plummeting far back into the benches surrounding the arena, crashing to the ground in a most undignified manner.

  “So glad I got to say that,” smiled Jack to himself.

  Anna fell to the ground, now fully released from Zarrod’s grasp, and Jack moved to her side. He looked up at Grohm who gazed down at him.

  “He destroyed our planets,” said Jack, jerking his head toward Zarrod. “Go destroy him.”

  Grohm smiled. “Good luck, Earthman.”

  “Same to you, big guy.”

  Chapter 42

  With precision movement, Grohm began to run toward Zarrod. With a powerful leap he hurled himself into the air, his electrified club raised high over his head, humming with fury waiting to be unleashed.

  Zarrod glanced up just in time to see the massive Rognok heading straight for him. Quickly collecting himself, he sprung up off one hand, twisting away just as Grohm landed, his club smashing into the stone where the Deathlord had been not a moment before, sending rubble and debris flying in all directions.

  Grohm turned, swinging his club in a backhanded arc aimed right for Zarrod’s head. Zarrod ducked, only to find himself looking down the barrel of the plasma shotgun which Grohm had unslung from his back in a swift movement during his swing. Zarrod pulled back instinctively just as Grohm pulled the trigger.

  WHOOM!

  The blast from the shotgun hit Zarrod squarely in the chest, sending him flying back with violent speed, the breastplate of his dark armor smoldering and smoking from the force of the plasma projectile. He hit the ground hard, tumbling head over heels, crashing through the stone seating in the theater.

  No sooner had the Deathlord come to a stop than he pushed himself to his feet, standing straight and taut with anger, as though the point-blank blast hadn’t fazed him at all.

  “Enough of this,” he grumbled as he saw the Rognok begin to run at him, the plasma shotgun in his hands, firing as quickly as he could recharge the weapon.

  Zarrod hurriedly manifested death energy around his hands, using it to swat at the plasma blasts, ricocheting them away.

  In between the blasts, Zarrod hurled a ball of ghostly death energy toward Grohm, who spun just as it flew by him. Grohm flung his weapon at the Deathlord, who knocked it away, but not before Grohm had the chance to leap toward him.

  Zarrod narrowly dodged Grohm’s fist as it landed on the ground, the impact cracking the stone. Grohm pressed the attack, swinging his massive fists, trying to land a blow on the Deathlord who danced between his punches before finally catching Grohm’s fist – aimed directly at Zarrod’s head – in one of his clawed hands.

  “Blasted Rognoks,” sneered Zarrod as he let loose a blast of death energy with his free hand. It hit Grohm squarely in the chest and sent him flying into the air, landing hard a good ten feet away.

  Meanwhile, Jack was at Anna’s side, desperately trying to get her to wake up. She had passed out after Grohm had freed her from Zarrod’s hold, and Jack was doing his best to rouse her by shaking her shoulders and patting her on the cheek.

  “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Jack muttered. “You gotta wake up!”

  Anna’s eyes fluttered open briefly. “Jack…” she said.

  “Anna!” said Jack urgently. “Please, you need to finish breaking the seal!”

  “No… no…” she said weakly.

  “It’s okay, we have a plan!” replied Jack. “It might not be the best plan, but it kinda requires the seal to be broken. We were going to rescue you after you finished doing it, but for some reason, you stopped… which was totally cool, by the way! Just, a little inconvenient. Now, I don’t know how long Grohm can keep Zarrod busy, so I really need you to—”

  Anna’s eyes fluttered again as Jack was talking, and she passed out.

  “Oh, crap,” muttered Jack.

  Up in the stands, Zarrod stalked toward Grohm as the massive alien got back to his feet. He held a hand to his chest where the Deathlord’s blast had impacted him and glared at Zarrod as he approached.

  “That blast would have killed any other being,” growled Zarrod. “But you Rognoks have some strange immunity to our powers. That was why we eliminated your planet so early on.”

  Zarrod hurled another death blast at Grohm. Grohm moved to dodge, but Zarrod’s initial blast had weakened him and he was sluggish. The blast caught Grohm in the shoulder, sending him stumbling back.

  “I can only assume you’re here for some type of revenge,” said Zarrod, “which I respect, but it isn’t me you should be angry with.”

  He sent another blast toward Grohm who raised his hands in defense, but the blast hit him straight on, knocking him to the ground. Zarrod stood over him, his hands alive with raging death energy.

  “You should be angry with your creators, The Ancients. They made your kind, you see, in answer to us. You were made big, strong, durable, and dumb. But most of all, you were made without souls. The perfect soldiers to fight against the army of their enemy.”

  Grohm tried to rise, but Zarrod delivered a powerful punch to his face, knocking him back down.

  “They gave you life, but they denied you so much more. Without the souls all other beings in this universe possess, your kind could never be more than what you are. You could never be culled by us, true. But you could also never evolve. You could never understand things like love, or beauty, or anything else the pathetic life-forms you were created to protect seem to hold in such high regard. You would forever be slaves, doomed to this life and this life alone, never able to experience anything more.”

  Again, Grohm tried to rise, and again, Zarrod knocked him down with a fist clad with deadly death energy.

  “So I ask you, Rognok,” said Zarrod as he put a foo
t on Grohm’s chest. “Who has done you more harm? Me? The one who finally freed your people from their bondage? Or your creators? The ones who denied you any shred of happiness?”

  Grohm met the Deathlord’s stare with his red and black eyes. “You,” Grohm replied.

  Zarrod couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that so?”

  “Yes,” sneered Grohm. “Happiness is for the weak.”

  With surprising quickness, Grohm grabbed Zarrod’s leg and twisted it. Zarrod cried out and fell to his knees in the direction of the twisting, bringing him within striking distance of Grohm’s free hand, which shot out like a piston directly at Zarrod’s face, knocking him back.

  Grohm sat up and quickly made his way on top of the Deathlord, straddling him under his massive weight and pounding on him with one punch after another, wordlessly trying to pummel him into the ground.

  Down below the seating where the Rognok and the Deathlord were fighting, Jack had Anna slung over his shoulder and was trying to make his way to the stairs.

  She’s heavier than she looks, thought Jack, whose shoulder was already starting to ache after just a few feet. He looked up the long stair climb to the exit in dismay. They invent a planet with a shield and a spaceship that can travel anywhere in an instant, but they refuse to install escalators anywhere. I am never going to understand these guys…

  Jack began making his way up toward the exit when a voice rang out over the comm unit in his ear.

  “Jack? Jack, my boy, do you read?”

  “Professor?” responded Jack as he shifted Anna’s weight on his shoulder.

  “We are almost ready to fire the weapon on our end,” said Green. “Has the Princess destroyed the seal yet?”

  “Yeah, about that…” said Jack as he took a few more steps. “Anna’s been knocked out. She cracked the seal pretty good, but it’s still up, and I don’t think we’re gonna have time to get her to finish it.”