The Flipside (Solo Quest)

Dread wrote:“We have some time yet before Kami wakes. If you are willing to wait a little longer, I can show you to a room if you are interested in resting.” Mr. Popo said sometime after his and John’s brief sparring match.

John considered his offer for a moment; he had no idea how much time “Coach” would allow him to complete the objectives he had set out for him some days earlier. He did not even know if taking lessons from the Guardian of Earth counted as one of the tasks his master wanted him to accomplish. John had recently stopped worrying about “Coach” as he had in the past, however. He suddenly wondered why he even considered his teacher as a factor in his own decision making.

John had stopped dreading “Coach” after having experienced the Cave of Darkness in which he faced his ultimate fears. The memory of that nightmarish experience was forever burned into John’s memory, but he had gained some valuable knowledge from it. He learned that he feared his own weakness, incompetence, and incapability and hated having others, such as “Coach”, constantly point his flaws out to him. He finally managed to overcome that fear by bolstering his own confidence and pride in himself. He swore to himself to pursue and acquire the power needed to overcome oppressive forces that conspired against him.

“I could definitely do with a good nap,” He finally spoke after heavy consideration; with that, Mr. Popo contentedly led him deep within the lookout and through various hallways, some of which John had already visited.

“Step inside and rest as long as you like,” Mr. Popo told him after they had stopped in front of an average-sized door. “I will send for you when Kami is ready to see you.” He added.

John remembered, from his previous conversations with Mr. Popo, Kami was the Guardian of Earth. Prior to his encounter with Mr. Popo, Korin, a mind-reading cat John found absolutely detestable, told him that the Guardian wanted to meet with him. John had obviously answered the summons. “Thank you again, Mr. Popo,” John told him; Mr. Popo merely smiled back at him. John proceeded into the room and closed the door just as Mr. Popo began walking off further into the Lookout.

I wonder where he’s going. He thought; he had not yet traversed the passage that his host had taken. What secrets, if any, did the Lookout hold? John scowled at himself for his latest wave of suspicious thoughts toward Mr. Popo. Why shouldn’t I be suspicious? He asked himself. I was told I would meet with some guardian and I’ve only seen his assistant so far. John argued with himself. Mr. Popo said he’s resting. Instead of worrying about stupid crap like that, I am going to do the same and get some sleep, and if I were you, and that’s exactly who you are, I’d shut up. John grinned at having won his latest argument with himself.

He kicked off his shoes, removed his gloves, set his hat aside, and unwound his sash from his waist. He kept only his shirt and pants on to maintain some level of decency. He walked across the carpet in bare feet and relished the touch of the tightly woven fabric against his most sensitive skin. He crossed most of the room then took to the enormous bed that had tempted him to lay aside all his aches and pains since the moment he walked inside. Wait, what aches and pains? Had he not recently enjoyed a luxurious bath and a filling meal?

He ignored his personal attack against his own logic as he plopped down on the thick and plush bedspread. The soft mattress beneath the layers of blankets and sheets sunk a little beneath his weight, conforming to his shape. He twisted around so that he rested on his back and dropped his head down atop a stack of neatly arranged pillows that proved as impossibly comfortable as the matching bedspread. He felt as though he was sinking deep down into luxurious bliss; he eagerly embraced the sensation and allowed it to consume him. He was soon fast asleep with a sliver of a smile on his face.

Dread wrote:A tapping on the door later woke John; he sat up slowly and rubbed his scalp. He was a little confused at first when he noticed much of his gear missing until he remembered he had set them aside near the door. Another knock came; John moved as though summoned by it. “One moment please,” He called out loudly enough for whoever stood outside his room to hear.

He slipped back into his shoes, pulled his gloves taut over his hands, and balanced his hat atop his head and let it slide down onto his ears. He then secured his sash around his waist before he opened the door. “Is he ready to see me?” John asked Mr. Popo when their eyes met.

“He is ready,” He answered simply. “I will take you to him; follow me, please.”

John almost thanked Mr. Popo for escorting him about the Lookout. As enormous as the Lookout was from top to bottom and inside and out, he was certain he would lose himself within its depths without a guide intimate with the place. They reached the top of a spiral stone staircase; Mr. Popo took an unlit torch from its perch along one wall. He held his hand above it until a small spark of energy fell from his palm and struck the flammable contents within. Mr. Popo immediately withdrew his hand the instant a small fire flared to life inside the torch.

They continued down the stairs; its depths threatened to swallow them up with darkness fended off only by Mr. Popo’s light. John wondered why the Guardian had gone down these steps. Had Kami actually taken this same path or was his most generous host luring him into a trap? Had the bath, food, and bed merely been tools used to garner his trust? If that was the case then why had Mr. Popo not poisoned his meal? Why had he not harmed John while he slept? Did he and the Guardian need him alive for some diabolical purpose? A purpose that would be revealed to him at the bottom of the steps where and when it would be too late for him to resist?

John stopped moving; Mr. Popo took one more step down then he turned around and stared at his guest. “Is there something wrong? Do you need further time to rest?” He asked.

“What are you up to, Mr. Popo?” John asked him severely. “Why are you leading me down here?”

“Kami waits for you below,” Mr. Popo replied.

“Do I look like a fool?” John asked. “What are you playing at? Tell me!” He punctuated his demand by punching the wall to his left; his fist reduced several stones to dust.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Mr. Popo admitted. “I am merely doing as you and Kami wishes.”

John held out an open palm between him and Mr. Popo. Blackness issued upward from his hand and began congregating toward a single point some inches above it. The blackness took on a condensed form and grew to Mr. Popo’s visible fear. “Do you know what this is?” John asked; Mr. Popo, terrified as he appeared, made no response. “You do not want to know what this is.” John informed him while shaking his head.

The mass took on the shape of a perfectly round sphere. “I know because I made it; you will find out why I made it if you do not start telling me what you want with me.” John brought his hand closer to Mr. Popo to menace him with the sinister ball; Mr. Popo took a tentative step back.

“That is enough of that, John!” A voice shouted from nearby; it crackled some and sounded aged.

“Kami! Thank goodness you’re here,” Mr. Popo rushed down the steps with torch in hand; John watched as the solitary light illuminated a very strange being.

John extinguished his attack by forming his hand into a fist; the ball dispersed into a harmless dark smoke that drifted upward and joined the surrounding blackness in its final moments. “You aren’t human,” He observed as a robed and green-skinned figure approached him; he immediately took notice of the antennae protruding from his wrinkled scalp. “You are the one I’ve been told about? The Guardian of the Earth?” He asked.

“I am, John,” The alien, Kami, acknowledged. “Would you believe that or would you prefer continuing to distrust my closest friend and me?” He asked.

John tried to answer, but he could not so easily conquer his distrust in complete strangers. “After all Mr. Popo has done for you, you choose to terrorize him?” As soon as Kami made that comment, John felt deeply ashamed of himself. “I am beginning to doubt if there is anything I can teach you.”

“You would let me leave, just like that?” John asked.

“I see you still don’t trust me. You may leave; I am sure you know the way as I will not have Mr. Popo endanger his life again for your sake.” Kami told him gravely.

Dread wrote:“I want to ask you some things before I leave,” John told Kami.

“What would you like to ask?” Kami replied.

“If you are the guardian of the whole damned planet then why do you hide away in a paradise that hardly anyone can get to while people on the surface experience disasters and tragedies? What kind of a twisted person are you? Do you think you are some kind of god? Do you think yourself somehow superior to those below you? Is that why you live up here, to constantly remind yourself of your status above all other life forms? Is that how you and your kind get your kicks? Does it amuse you to watch people kill each other?” John demanded. “What exactly do you guard if not the men, woman, AND children of the world who endure constant suffering?”

“You take that back this instant!” Mr. Popo cried out in defense of his friend. “Kami has toiled hard for the benefit of humanity over many years! You have no right-“

“That is quite enough, Mr. Popo,” Kami interjected; to the mutual surprise of both John and Mr. Popo, he was grinning. “You care deeply about someone, don’t you?” He asked John.

“Are you reading my mind like that fucking cat?” John crudely asked.

“No,” Kami answered. “Old folks like me may not be good for much, but I can guess what you are thinking just by looking at you and listening to the way you speak.”

“What do you know of me? You’re not even human!” John pointed out.

“I know, John, you are terribly afraid even though you have convinced yourself otherwise. Why else would you suspect Mr. Popo of wrongdoing?” John could not provide an answer to the question; Kami promptly continued. “I know that you hate, more than anything, to be looked down upon. You despise people who think themselves your superior and carry on as though they have a right to abuse and misuse you as they please.”

“Who doesn’t?” John quietly replied.

“I know,” Kami said, “You care for others, but there is someone you have already met and that person is especially dear to you. You keep them in your thoughts and prayers-“

“I don’t pray,” John interrupted.

“But you hope; in fact, if there is one quality about you that surpasses even your darkest fears it is your constant hope for a brighter future for yourself and those you care about. Whether you have realized it already or not, you care a great deal about a lot of people. Do not deny it; you have stood before me and you have spoken not on your own behalf, but on the behalf of humanity!” Kami told him.

“I am not getting any younger, John. There are so many things I wish I could do for your people, but there is only so much I can accomplish. I am not a god. Just like you, I am a man even if we are of different races and come from different planets.” Some tears formed in Kami’s eyes at that point. “I grieve, more than you can imagine, over the pain that I cannot stop; neither of us are infallible John. There is only so much you or I can do and, unlike us, I fear evil has an abundance of resources and advocates at its disposal.”

“You honestly believe I can help the world?” John asked after having considered Kami’s words.

“You must never convince yourself of being capable of more than you can truly accomplish; doing so is among the first steps toward corruption and madness.” Kami replied. “But I do believe that, in small measures, you can do a deal of good for Earth.”

John beamed a little with pride at the guardian’s words. “I have come to a new decision,” Kami told him. “I am still willing to teach you.”

“What can I learn from you?” John asked without meaning any disrespect.

“I can show you how to make the most of your attributes, physical and mental and spiritual, to benefit others, but you must be willing to trust me John.” Kami informed.

“You have my trust,” John began then looked to Mr. Popo, “And my sincerest apologies; in fact, I wish I could take back the way I treated you. I didn’t know anything about you, but I will not make any excuses for my horrid behavior.”

“You terrified me, John; I don’t know if I can-“

“Your flowers are beautiful and you are an excellent chef,” John pleasantly complimented him.

“You are forgiven,” Mr. Popo responded immediately with a prideful smile.

Dread wrote:John followed Kami and Mr. Popo to the bottom of the staircase and passed through a stone archway. “Mr. Popo, please hand me the torch.” Kami requested; his friend immediately complied.

John watched as the ancient alien set light to a sconce near the passageway through which they had recently entered. The light proved vastly more brilliant than that of the flame Kami handled; it cast their surroundings in brilliant green, revealing them to John. They stood inside a perfectly circular chamber that somewhat reminded John of his Kanassan dojo back on his ship if only in shape.

Brickwork covered the entire floor and converged to create something of a pattern. Gray bricks surrounded a large circle at the center. The circle featured three rings and a core in the direct middle; the outer ring appeared green as did most everything and everyone else in the chamber at that moment. Kami lit another sconce somewhere in the room; yellow light immediately clashed with green. A wondrous blue resulted from the conflicting colors and revealed to John that the second ring was also blue in color. Orange bricks made up the innermost ring while a singular round and flat stone provided the circle with a red core.

Kami lit a third sconce that filtered orange light through the blue and John witnessed true beauty take shape above him. It suddenly appeared as though blue and gold fire blazed and rippled across the entire ceiling of the chamber. The fire produced neither smoke nor heat and no explanation was afforded as to its exact nature or existence. It mesmerized John until he had almost forgotten where he was and it took him some time to realize Kami was calling to him.

“What do you need?” John automatically asked.

“Please stand in the center of the circle while I ignite the final torch,” The guardian instructed.

John hesitated for a moment; he had no idea what was about to happen and he had grown weary of taking on challenges without knowing firsthand what he might face. The Forest of the Ancients proved maddening. The Cave of Darkness was even worse because, while inside it, he had actually believed he would perish from the experience. “Do you trust me, John?” Kami asked.

He wondered if he had been right all along in suspecting that Kami and his assistant meant to do something unforgivable to him. No! I will not think of them like that anymore! John mentally declared. “I trust you,” He answered then, without wasting further time, he stepped into the center of the circle.

Kami ignited the final sconce and a blinding red light, much like that of “Coach’s” energy attacks, flooded the room and overcame the blue and gold above. John shut his eyes and raised an arm above them to shield them further. He remained that way for some time. When he believed it safe enough to do so, he lowered his arm and opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly a few times to ensure his eyes were not playing tricks on him. He eventually concluded that what he was seeing was real.

A grayish blue sky stretched out in all directions above him and melted into a deep violet in the horizon. A thick pink fog plagued his entire surroundings and impaired his vision. He felt a soft breeze on his face; he assumed that he was outside somewhere because of it. The fog had little substance and failed to affect the comfortably warm temperature in the slightest. Either that or the fog somehow generated warmth. John could only assume it was safe to breathe because he had been doing so for over a minute since being deposited within the exotic environment by Kami’s hand.

He told me to trust him; I did and this is what I get? John thought bitterly. “Kami!” He screamed; the fact his voice carried out into the distance brought him little comfort. “What have you done to me?” He demanded as loudly as he could manage; he received no answer. “What is this place?” He yelled again and, again, no one offered him an explanation.

He almost panicked, but his experience served to teach him that doing so only worsened any given situation regardless of the horrors they presented. He needed to take stock; he needed to formulate a plan. He needed to figure out where he was because, with that information, he could find his way back to civilization. He took to the sky and flew as quickly as his ki could propel him.

He discovered, to his rising despair, that no matter how high up he flew, his surroundings never changed. He continued to ascend for some minutes, certain that the bizarre land before him would miniaturize in his perspective and that other land and water features would make themselves apparent. This is ridiculous. He thought. Nothing’s changing, not even the air, but I should be thousands of feet above the ground by now.

John decided to land and was surprised to find that it took him only a few seconds to touch the flat ground. It was as though he had only ascended a few meters. He had not changed direction! He had journeyed straight up and then back down again. He should not have encountered a platform. He walked forward and searched for a dropping point just to make certain he had not encountered such a landing. He continued walking. He inevitably learned that he was back on the surface of whatever realm into which he had been flung. Impossible!

Dread wrote:A pair of yellow lights suddenly appeared in the distance, piercing through the pink fog. Were those the headlights of a car? John squinted as though that would afford him a better view of the object headed towards him. He moved to his left to avoid a collision with it, but it turned with him and continued toward him. John took several steps to his right and gauged the reaction of the lights and whatever it was to which they were attached. Whatever it was, it altered course again, confirming that whoever was operating the thing was interested in him.

Who was this person? Where had they come from? How did they know about John when he had only just arrived? What did they want him for? Were they lost like him and hoped he could provide them answers? John figured he would have answers to his own questions soon enough. He passively waited for the arrival of the object and its operator.

Chrome knuckles pierced through the fog and struck John directly in the gut, catching him completely by surprise. Air blasted out of him with a whoosh and he coughed, desperate for more. The fist retracted with a mechanical buzz. John doubled over and fell onto his knees. A pair of fists crashed down onto his exposed back; he immediately fell forward. He groaned, but made little motion beyond that. His attacker continued the assault by kicking John in his side. It felt to him as though someone had swung a wrecking ball at him.

John tried sensing his attacker through the mist that obscured whoever it was and all else, but he detected no energy. You have got to be kidding me. He thought; speaking was clearly beyond him at that moment. What kind of fresh hell have I found myself in this time?

He rolled onto his back with some effort; the same pair of yellow lights he had noticed before hovered above him. He also saw, given the close proximity between him and the lights, they were fixed deeply within two sockets of a chrome skull. It appeared to grin at him perpetually with its realistic teeth. That might explain it. John thought. I’m being attacked by a lifeless machine. No way I can sense it. Its appearance hardly unnerved him because he believed he had faced worse than its like.

What happened to the good old days when all I had to put up with was people who didn’t fly or shoot lasers at me? He thought as two sets of metal claws seized him by his shoulders and yanked him off the ground. The robot cocked its head back and delivered a bone-cracking head butt against John’s skull. It simultaneously released its hold on him, sending him soaring several feet backward from the collision. Even after John crashed onto his back, he skidded an additional yard or so until his body came to a rest. He felt his aching head; blood stuck to his fingers. The buzz of moving mechanical parts immediately alerted him to the approach of his attacker.

John shakily got to his feet; he continued finding breathing difficult. He made for the sky, hoping that he could place some distance between himself and the machine in that bizarre place. The machine took notice of his aerial retreat and leaped after him, but it had left it took late. Gravity reclaimed its property and the robot disappeared into the fog below. It can’t fly and I can escape the ground. John stored the thought away as useful information for his continued confrontation. He wondered how it was then that he had recently landed in only seconds even though he had flown in a direct line upward for minutes.

The robot made another attempt to reach John as though it had been programmed to do nothing other than harm him. “It’s stupid too,” He commented to himself.

He gazed down into the fog and focused his ki through his forehead. A thin cylinder of black energy formed some feet beneath him where he stared. It spun just as he had designed it to when he first invented the attack and focused additional energy to cap the mass with a deadly narrow cone. He saw movement within the fog beneath him; twin yellow lights pierced through the insubstantial barrier. He smiled. “Get bent,” He said.

A thunderous bang resounded throughout the area and continued on into the distance. The fog beneath John parted momentarily as his bullet ripped through it and easily tore into the robot’s head between its shining eyes; they had served as an easy enough target. The lights vanished immediately upon having been destroyed along with the rest of the machine’s head.

John heard a heavy crash and saw a few sparks of electricity flash below. He waited to ensure he had finished off the machine. When it did not reappear, John returned to the ground. He discovered the headless and skeletal body of his attacker lying motionless and completely out of working order. “I think I might be in trouble here,” He told himself; where there was one mechanized soldier, there were probably others as dictated by the rules of the genre of science fiction.

Dread wrote:It came as a surprise to him when he encountered no other machines even after what felt like hours had passed; or had it only been minutes? At least when I was training in a forest I could track the sun and keep time that way. Here, I don’t even have that much…Wherever “here” is. He miserably thought to himself. He looked down at what amounted to scrap after he had destroyed the killer robot, and scowled.

“You know, you wouldn’t be a total wreck if you had been nice to me and showed me the way out. Oh, but no. You had to get up all in my face and now look at yourself. You can’t and you know why that is? It’s because you don’t even have a face anymore!” He told the lifeless heap; he angrily kicked it, causing his toes to sting, but he ignored the pain and kicked it again anyway.

“I would appreciate it if you did not treat him with such disrespect,” A voice spoke to John.

John turned toward the voice and witnessed a figure materialize from the fog. “Him?” He asked. “You know this thing?”

“Of course I know him, fool!” The voice spat. “And he’s not a thing; he is my brother.”

“What?” John asked, flabbergasted. How could anyone be related to a robot?

“At least he was my brother until you killed him!” A young woman stepped forward toward the broken machine.

She had long fiery red hair arranged into a pair of pigtails that stuck out on either side of her scalp. She had a fairly pale complexion and a curvaceous form that would make many men stare and lust after her. She wore a white sleeveless top and a black leather vest over it. She additonally sported a short red skirt that matched her hair and black and white striped stockings. She was shorter than John, but only by a slight margin. He admitted, only to himself, she was a beautiful person.

“Oh, Fred! What did he do to you? Don’t worry, bro, daddy will fix you up good as new, you’ll see.” She actually fell onto her knees and hugged the broken robot. She even sobbed and convulsed, but she hid her tears from Fred's destroyer by keeping her back turned to John.

John did not know what to make of the scene and was further shocked when the lady turned her gaze toward him and bared her teeth angrily at him. “Yeah, daddy will fix you all right and I’ll make sure this guy never hurts you again.” She growled.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here; in fact, I just got here myself. Then this thing, Fred, attacked me.” John tried explaining. “I was just trying to defend myself.” Wait, why am I excusing my behavior? He wondered of himself.

“Of course Fred attacked!” The woman responded. “You don’t belong here; Fred knew that and I know that. You’re trespassing and we don’t take kindly to trespassers.”

“Then show me the way out of this place!” John demanded. “You don’t want me here and I don’t want to be here. Help me and we’ll both be happy.”

“You want to know the way out?” She asked with a glint in her eyes.

“Yes!” He shouted back.

“Then allow me to show you to the door!” She stood up and immediately threw a fist into John’s nose; cartilage audibly cracked and twin jets of blood squirted from his nostrils.

He staggered back and brought his hands toward the damaged area of his face. “Why you little bitch!”

A broken nose was nothing new to John even though it serviced him extreme pain. He had learned to pronounce all words within his vocabulary properly while suffering a nose bleed because he had tired of the teasing he received over how he sounded otherwise.

John pulled his hands from his face and allowed the drops of blood that had collected onto his hands to drip. His nose continued bleeding, creatining a crimson stream that soaked into his goatee. The lady grinned then leaped at John with a leg extended. John reacted instantly; he took to the air. Rather than landing as John had expected, however, she changed direction in midair and flew toward him, aiming a vicious-looking stiletto at him. Unlike Fred, she obviously knew how to fly. John gritted his teeth then issued two immensely dark ki balls at her. Her excitement visibly drained from her face. She halted and crossed both arms over her chest just before both attacks connected. The collision resulted in an impressive explosion that probably would have easily demolished a house.

John did not wait for the smoke to clear or for the fog to settle just to assess the damage inflicted. He set about constructing another attack far more devastating than the duo his opponent had just sampled. “I can sense your energy and I know where you are. I know that you are very much alive and that my practice shots barely scratched you.” John said.

“If you insist on attacking me, I will destroy you.” To John, an enemy was an enemy; he had long since stopped discriminating against his opponents over anything and "anything" included gender.

He hated having to fight women, but some, in his experience, proved stubborn, vicious, and aggressive in his life. In some instances, he had to resort to violence against particular members of the female species in self defense. Women proved just as capable of abuse as their masculine counterparts as John had often witnessed and he was not one to simply lie down like a dog and allow a lady to do him harm until she tired of him. If a woman wished to prove their mettle in combat against John; he would oblige them by holding nothing back against them. That fact almost made his method respectable or so he liked to believe.

The young woman came into view, carrying the remains of Fred over her shoulder; she appeared absolutely miserable and defeated. Even though her body had not suffered much abuse, John's attacks had torn several holes in her outfit. “You may have beaten me, but wait until I tell my daddy what you did. You’ll be sorry.” She sobbed at him then took off.

“Just show me the wait out of here and I’ll leave!” John shouted after her, but received no response; frustrated, he let loose a bellowing shriek of rage.

Dread wrote:John set down then sat down and crossed his legs over one another to meditate over all that he had recently experienced. He desperately wanted to know what Kami had done to him, but he also need to rest from his injuries. He normally inhaled through his nose whenever he meditated, but its damaged condition prevented him from going through the process properly. In spite of that little snag, he neatly set aside his worries and fears in the back of his mind in order to relax and focus as he had often done before. He could have remained that way for hours, but something disturbed him and made the tranquility he desperately wanted to experience again unreachable.

The ground beneath him shook, but that was not what had disturbed his session. He sensed something massive and powerful and obviously alive; he also sensed that it was heading toward him. He needed to only open his eyes and look to make out a monstrous figure towering over the fog in the distance. It ran toward him with its enormous legs, making the ground tremble with each of its steps; given the pace of the creature, the ground vibrated almost constantly. "This is bullshit," John spoke in a monotone as soon as he identified the monster for what it was.

The beast featured calico fur from head to toe. Its stubby ears presided near the back of the top of its head. It had two large beady black eyes that seemed to observe the world around it with extreme disinterest. Many whiskers protruded from the sides of its pink button-like nose that occasionally twitched. A pair of buck teeth hung from its mouth; they looked capable of gnawing clean through any human structure. Its arms appeared short and stubby when compared to the rest of its body, but each far exceeded John’s height in length, and the claws attached to either of them appeared just as suitable for burrowing as they were for rending flesh. A nub of a tail peeked out from its backside.

“A giant hamster,” John said aloud in clear disbelief. “Really?”

A large blue collar hung around the hamster’s neck with a flashing round tag that read, “Mr. Nommers”. John would have laughed if he had not already accurately guessed that Fred’s daddy probably sent it to kill him. As if to prove John's immediate suspicions, Mr. Nommers opened its mouth wide, revealing a glowing mass of energy situated between its teeth. It screeched as it issued a wide violet blast of energy at him. The beam was far too wide for John to avoid; he screamed as it poured over him and burned his exposed skin and threatened to incinerate his gear. His world became nothing but purple light and burning agony for the seconds that ensued.

The light eventually vanished, but the pain and the damage it had caused remained. John had fallen on his back and even though he could not see it, he knew that the blast had dug a hole all around him, scarring the land with an enormous and smoking crater. Something eclipsed the featureless sky above and it took John a moment to make out the toes coming down on him. Mr. Nommers planted its entire weight atop John. Only his head stuck out in between two of the monster’s digits. Mr. Nommers shifted its foot back and forth, grinding John methodically and with a certain intelligence that its expressionless eyes kept well hid.

John concentrated past the pain and gazed at a certain point some distance above the monster’s head. He hacked up a moderate amount of blood, but he would not allow himself to pass out. He could not give up, he had to keep fighting, and he had to survive! Darkness poured out from his skin and soared high above the monster, gathering painfully slowly to create his most dangerous and temperamental attack. He could think of no other way to deal with Mr. Nommers as he focused on his own invention. He had sworn immediately after creating it to use it only as a last resort. He had created it with “Coach” specifically in mind, but its power was so far beyond his understanding that it terrified him.

John grinned when he saw the black sphere, somewhat flat on its axis points, complete. “Nothing personal,” John wheezed as the orb rippled and contorted, serving as a clear indication of the volatile forces it contained. “But it’s time to say goodbye…Mr. Nommers.”

The ball imploded in on itself, vanishing from sight as though it had given up on defending its creator, but it was unlike most other ki attacks. It did not rely on explosions, cuts, or burns to inflict damage. John’s training aboard his ship under several times Earth’s gravity had inspired the diabolical effects of his attack on its surroundings along with those trapped within them.

Mr. Nommers started ascending toward the very point in which John’s attack had taken shape, but it was not by the monster’s volition that it flew. It flailed and shrieked as the immense gravitational field, John had generated, forced it toward its center. John heard the sharp crack of enormous bones breaking and observed the oversized hamster twisting grotesquely out of shape the more it struggled. Mr. Nommers could no longer move after having its muscles pulled and ripped and all its bones snapped over them. John could only guess that the bone fragments had begun to pierce internal organs and slice through arteries and vessels.

The monster issued one final agonized shriek then died. It hung in limbo for some time and John decided to best avoid the gravity field. He had no idea how long it would last because that had been the first time he had actually used it. He had not dared to unleash it inside his ship where he had first learned it. “Glad that little experiment worked out,” He whispered just before he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Dread wrote:John next woke to a most unusual scene; everything around him appeared filtered through green and the cause was immediately apparent. He discovered himself suspended within a glass tank that had been filled completely with a tingling and green-colored substance. A dark mask covering his nose and mouth supplied him oxygen through a hose. A waterproof garment that felt like rubber covered his private areas; it served as his only article of clothing. Someone had obviously stripped him.

John had felt close to panicking before and, in that moment, the temptation to do so was at its utmost extreme. He had been transported, during his sleep, from one unknown location to another. Beyond the glass was what appeared to be a dimly lit laboratory that had been designed for use by an unethical mind. Shelves along one wall held only books, but the shelves along the other contained bottles, vials, and jars of things that John was thankful were distorted by the darkness. He observed many other tanks and an assortment of machinery he could not even begin to name. His situation heaped many more questions atop all his others that amounted to the most significant important enquiry of all. It went something like, “What the hell is going on?”

A young woman, the one with whom he had tangled before, appeared beyond the glass that encased him. She wildly gestured her hands, stomped her feet, and appeared enraged. She often pointed at John; he guessed that the fact he remained alive greatly perturbed her. Maybe Mr. Nommers had been her pet. He did not even know her name yet and he already had her pegged as the kind of freak who would play with monsters!

John grinned, but the mask concealed the expression. What reason did he have for feeling happy? Perhaps the solution that tickled his body had begun affecting his mind. Was he being poisoned by whoever abducted him?

John saw another figure standing before the girl; he was obviously a man and he was the present target of the girl’s outrage. He appeared old and frail, more so than Kami. Unlike Kami, the man before John looked entirely human. He wore a white lab coat and protective black gloves as though he was a run-of-the-mill mad scientist. Was he the one she was referring to when she spoke of her daddy?

The elderly figure turned from the woman and looked at John with a stern expression. Was this man responsible for creations like Fred and Mr. Nommers? If so, what else had he made that would attempt to kill John? The woman, he noticed, also stared, but the fury in her eyes was unmistakable. She looked like a little girl who had lost her favorite dress.

They approached John together; the man stopped in front of a console. He pressed what must have been a button because John could only see the console’s backside. “How are you feeling?” He asked; his voice came at John through a speaker, but John could only guess as to how the words carried through water and remained discernible.

John considered the question for a moment. Wasn’t that man responsible for trying to have him killed? Why did he care about John’s current level of health? John hesitantly gave the man a "thumbs up" sign. No sooner had he pointed his thumb up, the man pressed a few buttons on his console.

The green fluid drained quickly from the tank; John’s feet found purchase on the grate just beneath him. He then detached the mask from his face only to discover there was no air in the tank. He clutched his throat when no air filtered into his lungs. He promptly returned the mask to his face then banged against the tank in a demand for release. “Hang on,” The man instructed.

The glass surrounding John slowly lifted upward, disappearing into the black ceiling above him. He removed the mask from his face again and let it dangle by its hose. John glared angrily at the old man. “Are you the one who sent those things after me?” He demanded.

“Things? Things?” The woman shrieked. “They were more than that, you monster! You killed Fred and Mr. Nommers!”

“Enough of that, Marcy!” He snapped. “Yes I was,” He answered John. “I also brought you here for healing.”

“Why?” John shouted. “Why put me through all that just to heal me? Are you going to send something else after me?”

“No, I am your last opponent, but you have already beaten me. You bested my creations and even my darling little Marcy; their defeat is mine to share.” He revealed. “She may be fierce, but even she had to admit that you’re no match for her.”

“I still don’t get why we couldn’t just kill him,” The young woman, Marcy, pouted. “Daddy, he killed Fred and Mr. Nommers!”

“Don’t worry, my precious sweet, I will bring them back,” The man replied.

“Promise?” Marcy asked.

“I promise,” He assured her.

John started to feel like he was being ignored. “Excuse me, but I would like to know what all this was about. Where are we? Why was I brought to this place? Why was I attacked? Who are you people? How do I get back to where I came from? And where the hell are my clothes?” He gasped to catch his breath after issuing such a long series of questions.

“Just go through that door over there,” The man said as he pointed to a solid metal door with a bright red and bold sign above it that read “EXIT”.

“That will take me back?” John asked, but neither the man nor the woman answered. “Where are my clothes?” He persisted.

Marcy walked toward the shelves and retrieved a bundle from one of the shelves. She returned and shoved them into his arms. “Now go!” She smartly ordered.

John turned around and walked toward the door. He often cast cautionary glances back, but neither Marcy nor her daddy pursued him. He pushed open the door just a little and hoped to peer inside before he ventured beyond it. He had no trust for the people who would do him harm without a sufficient reason. Light spilled out from the crack; there must have been some substance to it because it somehow forced the door completely open. He stepped back to avoid being hit by it; more light washed over him, blinding him.

He suddenly experienced the sensation of falling; he tried to fly to avoid crashing, but his ki failed him for the first time since he had discovered it. His body soon smacked painfully onto what felt like stone. His bundled outfit offered him some cushioning. “Welcome back, John.” He heard Kami’s voice from nearby.

John realized, as the light faded and his surroundings revealed themselves unto him, he was back in the chamber where he had been cast off to some alien place. He stood up and looked at the guardian; he noticed Mr. Popo was not present. John surmised that he was probably out tending his flowers. “I have some questions for you, Kami.” He spoke slowly as to contain his brewing anger toward the man who had requested his trust. After what he had just experienced, John believed his trust betrayed.

“And I have the answers you seek,” Kami passively replied.