This is a really fun story I have been working on for some time. Inspired by X-Men, X-files, and the dystopian craze I wanted to do something along the lines of alien VS wizards (which was the working title for some time). One World all takes place in the future, but I'm not sure how far so I'll leave that vague for now. I do know that it's far enough in the future that no one currently alive would be alive for the drama, yet not so far that our current society is forgotten. My goal is to weave a few seemingly unrelated stories together so they can work on their own, for the most part, yet can play off each other nicely. Today's publication is two sections, a prologue and chapter one. Read and enjoy, and please share/follow/tell people about my writing. if you like what you see here, you can find chapter 2 also on this blog.
Prologue
“To put it simply Mr. President,” General Tanner said, “ you are no longer in power.”
The room was silent for a moment, but anxious whisper sprouted about like brush fires. While no one seemed particularly pleased with that idea, it was also difficult to find any objection. Tanner smiled to himself. There was no doubt that his face right this moment was the exact reason that interns called him arrogant, to hell with them, this is what he built his career for.
The president raised his hand, and the room hushed, a cheap parlor trick from a man that had undermined every defense that the United States once held dear, all under thunderous applause.
“If I am not in charge then who is?” President Anderson said.
Tanner calculated his words with precision. He couldn’t be too bold, but if his words weren’t definite enough there was a chance he could lose his foothold. Like boiling a frog, he needed to be subtle, but absolute.
“Peace,” pause for effect, “Peace is bossing every world leader around like our mother left it in charge. You have let this idea of peace rob you, rob the government, of every ounce of power. Now we are tracking the biggest threat to date and there is nothing you can do about it.”
The president raised his right eyebrow. It was the same look he gave Tanner the day they made contact with the LS, the day they destroyed the collection of nukes, and the day the president announced his divorce. Something had to be cooking in his head.
“I assume you have a solution then,” Anderson said. He was too calm, Tanner needed to stir the pot, he needed to put a lid on the pot and let the bastards boil.
“100 Soldiers,” he said.
“You want to start a war?” The question came from the back of the room. Tanner didn’t look to see who.
The President met Tanner’s gaze. His undivided attention always felt like standing too close to a fire, pulling the General back to their college years.
“I assume you think that they are willing to listen to you?” the President said. A silent confusion stirred in the room.
“I controlled armies for years,”
“Not this one,”
Pride would do no good now.
“I believe that this country and what it stands for will be enough.”
“You are starting a war?” the same person said.
The President smiled, then broke into a laugh. he stood up and walked around the desk, shaking his head and laughing. A rumble from outside made the room jump, but the President kept up with his mocking charade until he was nose to nose with the general, his laugh now sounding more like a growling bear.
“Not starting one,” Anderson said, “preventing one.”
Scoffs around the room made it clear that not many of the cabinet believed the claim. Not many Americans believed the idea that the LS were there for any reason except establishing and maintaining peace.
“This country ruined their lives.” The President said. His face fell into a frozen scowl, burdened with shame, “They hate us.”
Tanner felt defeated, guilty even, but Anderson was right where he needed him.
“Bruce,” he said as if his voice was peaking out from under the covers, “would you rather be hated or dead?”
“In this case, I don’t see much of a difference.”
A tightly wound male secretary from the back of the room, probably the one who had spoken up before decided he didn’t like being excluded from such an important conversation.
“I think the room deserves to know what you are talking about,” the man said. His tone thick with entitlement.
Without looking up the president pulled a gun out of his blazer and pointed it at the man.
“I don’t think you work here any more,”
Loud questions and objections exploded from the small group. Many pushed their chairs against the wall, ducking in cover.
“You all heard the General, We are no longer in charge. Is our goal power, or freedom? Is that freedom for us, or for the people we were asked to protect,”He swung the gun around the room, stopping at random people, smiling as they flinched in fear, “Believe it or not, we have failed. Now we must turn to animals that cannot be tamed, merely locked in cages.”
That same look of shame leaked onto his face. He dropped his arm and looked at the gun in his hands.
“Since we failed, we don’t deserve to try again,” he looked at Tanner and gave him the gun, “They won’t follow me. But maybe they will follow the man that set them free, the man who overthrew the government.”
Feeling a sense of duty Tanner took the gun and pointed it right between the President’s eyes.
“I’ll tell the truth, once it is all over,”
The President shrugged and smiled, closing his eyes. The shot echoed in the small room and sprayed blood across the back wall. The rest of the people in the room cried out, some prayed, a few retched. Tanner held his emotions down, he needed to do a lot worse. Pulling a lever below the trigger Tanner dropped the clip to count the bullets. Two per person in the room.
It had been fifteen years since he fired a gun, but the training was hard to forget. Bodies fell to the floor, no one had the instinct to fight, of course not, and targets heading towards a singular location- like a door- with their backs turned made for easy targets. Security was a joke these days, more like a group of mercenaries than trained killers. The two that were asked to stand guard accepted a small salary to stay outside, no matter what.
One man stirred, the Press Secretary, and Tanner leveled his gun. A brief moment of realization gave him pause.
“You still want a job?” Tanner said.
The man nodded, holding his wound. The shot wasn’t fatal, especially if he received a little medical attention.
“This didn’t happen. Not yet.” Tanner said.
The Secretary looked confused.
“We need to cook the LS, open the people’s eyes. Until then I am a general, and Bruce is the president.”
The man hardened his features, then nodded. “Until then?” he said, voice hoarse and weak.
“We uncage the animals”
1
Avoiding Responsibility
Confidence was the key to breaking any rule. So long as you acted like being there was as normal as a sunrise, rarely did anyone say anything. Sam did so now, with all the professionalism of a pediatrician with a nervous child, she walked down the sidewalk of the neighborhood with houses that were too big for anyone to really get full use out of. The road looked like it had just recently been transformed into a park, now that ground level transportation was all but useless it seemed the smart thing to do. Her outfit wasn’t perfect for blending in, but what she lacked in style she made up for with cheerful smiles and pleasant hellos to all the bored housewives she saw on the street. Some burglars would tell you that you should avoid any type of contact, to not be remembered, and maybe they were on to something, but Sam always heard police asking questions like “did you see anything unusual?” or, “was anything out of place that morning?” and a kind young woman saying hello never really seemed out of place.
Plus in the off chance that she was remembered she could just use magic for a quick escape.
Sam wasn’t the most powerful of witches, but she was very cunning and she had a distinct advantage that no one knew she had learned magic. As a girl, her parents forced her to go to one of those academies that helped young ones to open their minds and see with their third eye and all that bull. The whole process was just too much fluff. There was no trick to magic, this was just a result of science. Humans had evolved as far as they could naturally and now learned how to evolve themselves. Her teachers at The Academy for Evolving Arts thought her ideas were radical, most of them belonging to The Church of the Mind, and threatened to kick her out. Well, Sam cut out the middleman and left.
That was two years ago. Living on her own she learned four spells, one more than she was promised at the Academy. Gravity, Senses (she sometimes called that one drugs because of the far-out way it switched her senses), Bullet, and Food. They weren’t too complicated, but they were all bred from her lifestyle and had proven extremely useful. Gravity allowed her to manipulate gravitational pull on herself or outward objects. It was hard to control, and potentially deadly, but helped in life-threatening situations, a quick blink and she could send a mugger falling backward like his gravity pulled horizontally across the earth. Senses switched her senses so that she could see sound or hear smell and so on when used properly no one was sneaky enough to catch her off guard. Bullet essentially turned gaseous air into a solid, and launch said projectile at varying degrees of lethality, much like a bullet. Food allowed her to eat anything. Once the object touched her tongue it would turn into whatever type of nutrients she needed most. The taste was hard to get right, but she was doing better.
So she spent her days walking around using her spells to sneak into empty houses, rest, eat meaningless objects, and fly away when the owners returned. Rich neighborhoods either had very busy houses or houses that remained empty most of the day. She just needed a place to sleep and a few socks to eat (everyone blamed the dryer for that) and she would be gone before quitting time.
“It’s a little hot for a jacket,” a sweet voice said. Sam looked and a tiny old lady in a flower nightgown was watering her flowers looking at her. She was pale and looked rather ill.
“I don’t mind,” Sam said, “I’m almost there.” Sam gestured, though not towards any house in particular. From inside the house, she heard a deep growl and a scratching at the door. She thought about commenting on how big that dog sounded but didn’t want to create a distinct memory for this shriveled woman, even if the old hag probably didn't remember why she had come outside in the first place.
Sam looked at her feet as she walked and noticed the dress and jacket she took from a few roads over were fit for more late autumn rather than the actual early spring, and her dark colors didn’t make her seem like the happiest person. Sam planned to be in the busiest part of the city today, but the second most important rule to fitting in is never having too strict of a plan. The excess violence downtown lead to a higher police presence and those were the people she was trying to avoid. Damn off-worlders ruined everything.
She knew that she needed to find some different clothes, which was risky. Most people had clothes that they kept around that they never used. The trick was figuring out which was which when you didn’t know the person at all.
Figuring now was as good a time as any, Sam took a deep breath and switched her hearing and seeing. The world transformed into a psychedelic flowing picture of waves. Hearing as sight is difficult to describe, everything made a soft sound that grew louder the closer it got, The louder the noise the brighter the object appeared. If an object was totally silent she could only see a black outline of the thing, and only if she looked directly at it. Sure it was hard to get used to at first, but now Sam felt like a pro. She slowed her walking just a little bit, pretending to look around and take in the nice day. She paid very close attention to each house as she passed by, looking for any sign of sound. It was surprising how much you actually heard, though noise is hard to separate. While Sam could see sound there was no sound that she missed. Walls may dim the noise, but a room would have to be completely sound proof for her to not see the sound.
Thinking about the logic of all this started to make Sam’s head hurt, she just knew that it worked and that was good enough.
Across the street, maybe three house down from the old lady with the large sounding dog, seemed empty enough. Not a single wave of color. She fixed her senses and walked straight towards the door, this is when confidence was most important. If Sam looked like she shouldn't be there people would get suspicious for sure. Once on the red cement twisting sidewalk trail that led to an oak door with an oval glass window, Sam turned her attention to the lock. She reached in with her gravity and started pushing on the small levers inside the door. With nearly two years of practice, she was able to pick the lock before her hand touched the door, and she was able to walk in without any pause.
“Damn,” Sam said to herself. The room looked like a dream home for a single man. This must be bachelor pad central, maybe the type of place that rich Frat boys would stay, not that she knew very much about that. The entrance way was simple enough; a large spiral staircase outlined the room and where there should have been some type a chandelier hung several inflatable animals. To her right seemed to be a game room. Besides dozens of bean bags, there were a few ping-pong, a foosball, and pool tables scattered around the room. There was a TV large enough to be a bed on the wall and a fancy gaudy style stand stood underneath. Walking past she grabbed a ping-pong ball and ate it, wondering what type of video games and movies they would have hidden away here, but she didn't have time for that.
She ran upstairs, taking them two at a time, which was probably her weirdest habit other than eating strangers socks. Walking up a single stair at a time was a huge waste of life. Americans alone wasted nearly six months of their lives walking up stairs, and that is with the majority of the population taking the elevators.
Ok so that might have been a made up fact, but she reached the top floor faster than most people would have been.
Each room was decorated with classic boy decor. Things like sports teams and action movies or posters, one room had women of all races dressed in basically nothing at all. At least he was diversified. Sam avoided organized rooms, seeing as there was a greater chance that a missing sock or two would be noticed. The last door in the hallway was propped open with a pair of dark washed jeans poking through the crack.
“Jackpot,” Sam said, letting her hunger come to the forefront of her mind. She pushed open the door and started grabbing at clothes on the ground. She draped a couple of socks across her arm, along with some of those strange bracelets made of twine and cheap plastic beads. Even though she could change the taste and nutritional value of everything she ate, eating different looking things made her feel more healthy.
Sam noticed that the walls had an inappropriate amount of bright colored of pop art on the walls, and after a deep breath, she could smell a faint trace of weed poking through the stench of dirty laundry. She really hit the mother load. Not only did the guy who lived here seem to be small enough to own clothes that Sam would probably find something to wear, she was sure that he would never notice something missing from this mess. After scouring through the closet she did, in fact, find a few tee shirts and a pair of really stretchy jeans, a trend she assumed died a decade ago. Leave it to druggies to bring back useful retro fashion.
She flopped onto the bed and took a bite of a sock, staring at the ceiling. She noticed a blank poster and felt a slight chill roll down her spine. She had seen that poster before. Locking her eyes to the white square, and sliding off the bed she pulled the blinds closed and shut the door. All the other posters darkened with the room, but that one blossomed into a beautiful detailed drawing of a flower. She wasn’t sure what the flower was actually called, but she knew what it represented. That Flower had been brought by the Angels when they first landed as a sort of peace offering. Initially, they gave actual flowers to every human that showed them kindness, when the flowers died they started giving out these drawings, meaning that Pothead personally knew, associated with, and was kind to aliens.
“Damn you, sir,” Sam said, “Damn you to hell.”
Angels were one of the four breeds of aliens that the first Wizards had contacted. Turns out that brain waves, when forced from the body, can travel up to several thousand times the speed of light. Angels were the first to understand the waves and discovered a way to ride them back down to earth. Shadows were next, though few stayed on earth. Mutts and Eunuchs had already made contact with each other, so they came together and colonized nearby all of the bigger cities.
Angels inserted themselves into society, acting as if they had always been there. Apparently, their home planet worshiped light, which wasn’t a common thing there, and so the fact that Earth got a full blast of sunlight every day made the planet very inviting. Staying out of the sun like they did make them so transparent that Angels were difficult to see during the day.
Sam hated them all.
Only Shadows seemed to be any sort of immediate threat, but each species, in their own way, helped convince the human government to gather and enslave Wizards and Witches. Slavery might be a strong word, but they developed strict regulations, things that bordered privacy invasion, like registering spells, and really boring brainwash schools.
Blood boiled in Sam’s ears. She never did well living inside of boundaries set by other people, meaning becoming a slave (essentially) was difficult enough. Still, that wasn’t what pushed her out of society. The day she was taken to the academy Mom looked the way most moms do when their kids leave for a sleepover, and Dad looked like he was aggravated that he wasn’t reading the paper. Sam tried her best not to put all the blame on her parents. It was the aliens that convinced the government, and the government that convinced her parents. When lies have been filtered by so many trusting layers they became near impossible to discredit.
But Sam knew. Sam saw right through all the bullshit and lies. No species could coexist without demanding some sort of payment. In the animal kingdom, even peaceful animals were either similar enough to breed, or relied on each other for support, like the birds that hung out on the backs of hippos. Protection for a place to stay. Mankind's relationship with these aliens was too friendly, too kind. Something had to give.
Piano playing from the bottom floor pulled Sam out of her trance. She was not a music buff, but the classical tune sounded perfect, too perfect to be played in a man cave like this. She felt some ideas connecting in the back of her mind, she knew something was very wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Thinking she heard voices she switched her sight and hearing again. Sure enough, mixed in with the beautiful waves coming from the piano were two other sources of sound, a jagged brown wave that looked like a toddler trying to draw mountains, and another that looked like the air was french braiding itself.
Even though she wasn’t able to understand any speaking when her senses were switched, she was able to recognize the difference in vibrations between languages, and she was not hearing (seeing?) human English. The french braid was probably a Eunuch, which meant that the jagged brown waves had to be a Mutt. A pairing like that was all too common when chasing after wizards. Mutts were physical wonders, able to hear and smell things beyond human comprehension. That, along with their heightened endurance and lean bodies, reminded people of dogs… thus Mutt. Eunuch’s were more patient and didn't have sex to distract them from life so they could interpret what the Mutts found. The pairing was deadly for a runaway.
The good news was no aliens had yet learned Magic, giving Sam a distinct, even unfair, advantage. Keeping her senses switched Sam jumped in the air and pulled herself towards the ceiling. Now down was up and up was down for her, She crept out of the room and down the hall. It was a bit of a jump to grab onto the railing at the stairs, but Sam was able to swing herself onto the first-floor ceiling. The front door was ahead of her, all she needed to do was position herself perfectly and drop through the oval glass window. A few cuts wouldn’t slow her down much and the officers wouldn’t know what hit them.
San took a deep breath and switched her senses back to normal.
“Beethoven sounds like a child playing nursery hymns,” a growling voice said. It was the officer she called Hound.
A deep feminine voice sighed and said, “Yes, but at least they have some sort of art.”
Sam shook her head and smiled. So much for a dynamic duo. Pulling gravity away from the door Sam stood opposite the front door so the eye shaped window looked like a skylight to her. She debated using bullet to break the glass but decided that it would be all too likely that the two officers had some sort of trap set, plus bullet was a little unpredictable. She jumped, did a half flip in the air and pulled her gravity right towards the door. Her plan was to shoot through the door, continue “falling” (to everyone else it would look like flying) and angle her descent into a run. Sam guessed she would probably trip and have to do a skillful roll, but that was within the realm of acceptability.
Her heels slammed into the glass, but there was no shatter. Sharp pains zapped through her shins- damn shin splints- and she slumped onto the door.
“Step off the door sweetheart,” the Eunuch said. The thing was slender and long, all Eunuchs had arms that went past their knees and two elbows just to make them extra creepy. Its face was calm and more masculine than the voice it produced. It wore a blue truancy uniform with a useless golden badge pinned to the front pocket.The body shape alone was enough to make Sam shiver, add the taser, one of the new ones that stopped external brainwaves, and this was a very frightening situation.
Add on top of that a white curly wig tucked into the things pants. This was the old lady pulling weeds. Her big dog in the house must have been the Mutt reacting to Sam’s smell.
“Damn you,” Sam said. She wanted to sound tough, but her legs really hurt.
“I know, but we need to take you in,” Eunuch said.
“We have been following you for a while,” Mutt said, coming around the corner, ‘We just want you to be safe.”
Sam knew this one. This particular officer has worked Sam’s case for quite a while now. He is the only officer to actually arrest Sam, though she was able to escape before she was taken back to the Academy. Imagine a hairless dog with human quality skin wrapped in the same boring uniform and you have Hound.
Sam gathered her thoughts, rose to her feet, and stepped onto the normal ground.
“You don’t understand,” Sam said, gathering air in her fist like a ball, “you are not going to get me to go back.”
The aliens exchanged looks, giving Sam a chance to launch her air bullets towards them. Hound dodged in time but had to roll out of the way. Eunuchs aren’t as fast and the thing took the non-lethal air bullet right to the chest. Sam flipped onto the railing, switching her gravity again, and ran around up the stairs. Remembering a window down the hall from the pot head room, dove at the banister and swung on the railing to change direction. Hound ran behind her, panting. Just as Sam went to jump to escape the Mutt grabbed her ankle and pulled her onto the ground, the struggle forced Sam to return to normal gravity and focus on the fight.
Sam built her entire life on avoiding hand to hand combat. Sure she could hold her own against punks in the park, but a trained officer, who also happened to be a Mutt, was an impossible task even for a skilled fighter. It didn’t take long before she was pinned against the floor with Officer Hound on top of her trying to cover her mouth.
“Shut it, human,” he said. He no longer looked like a playful puppy, his features sharpened like a predator on the hunt, or a wolf defending its territory. Sam froze, but let out a disgruntled noise. The human-sized hound crouched right over her and growled as if Sam had just insulted his family’s honor.
“One more peep and I will let him kill you,” Hound said through clenched jagged teeth.
Sam thought about responding but a creak on the stairs changed her mind. Hound pulled her into a corner and crouched defensively, pulling his real gun from its holster.
Footsteps tapped up the stairs. Whoever it was, did not seem rushed or worried. The taps came rhythmically, patient like a threat ready to be delivered. Sam gathered air in her hand, ready to attack if needed. Mutt noticed and stepped to the side, giving her space to throw, something that must have broken several officer codes.
The newcomer crested the final stairs. He wore a black button-down shirt tucked into finely pressed slacks. Huge pectoral muscles threatened to rip the buttons free. His arms looked more like tree branches than human limbs, even under his long sleeves. He was bald and his face was scarred on one side, though a shadow made it hard to see. He looked up and smiled, and Sam thought she noticed a hint of blue around the edges of his lips and eyes. Nothing about this man wasn’t intimidating.
“Please put that away, you know why I am here,” his voice was clear but rugged.
“I have my orders. One more step and I will fire,” Hound said. His voice broke a little and Sam lost total faith in the weapon.
“Kill me then,” the man said, stepping towards them, “death would be welcome now.”
Hound hesitated for a second, maybe pleading for another option, then he emptied his clip into the man’s face. Eight gunshots echoed through the air accompanied by eight ripples across the giant's face and chest. His shirt ripped but Sam couldn’t see any blood as if he had absorbed the shots. The giant just laughed and ripped the shirt free revealing his bare chest. Small metal disks fell to the ground, the bullets. Sam noticed the welts. Bullet proof skin was the earliest form of magic, used by ancient monks, but this was different. The man didn’t need to focus or breath, it didn’t seem like magic, more it was just who he was.
Hound made a grab for a knife hidden at his ankle but the giant was too quick and grabbed the officer by the throat, showing the same slight shade of blue around the edges of his fingernails, holding him completely off the ground. The giant grabbed Hound’s knife and stabbed it against his throat, shattering the blade.
Sam screamed and shot her bullet at the giant's face. He stepped backwards, clearly hit, though he seemed more surprised than injured.
“Wizard,” he said. His voice now tense with anger. He dropped Mutt who crumpled to the floor like a broken doll, “I came for you. I am Samson Reincarnate, ordained to free the people from your plague.”
He stepped forward, still with that same patient pace, into the light from the window. His eyes were electric blue contrasted against pale skin, with a smile that put him right on the edge of sanity.
“How smart do you think the officers were?” Sam said, hoping her plan would work.
Playing along Samson responded, “Kept you in, didn’t they?”
“True, but they don’t seem too thorough,” she tried to throw Samon’s gravity towards the window, but the man didn’t budge. Sam tried a second time but she already knew the outcome. Somehow Samson was immune to magic.
Samson’s laughed sounded like the giant lost control of his body, sending shocks of terror through Sam’s body.
“Through my obedience I will be blessed to rule,” Samson said, sounding like he was saying something even bums on the street should know, “Your witchcraft has no place here.”
Samson sauntered towards her, stepping over the Mutts crumpled corpse. Sam backed away from him and again was intimidated by his patience, he seemed to be certain that Sam would never be able to get away. Her ability to survive seemed to be linked with the length of the hall, which was very limited. Once her back hit the wall just below the window she felt every ounce of hope melt away, replaced by impending doom. She looked up at the window and smiled.
A small black X, probably written with a fine point marker, was right in the middle of the window. Without thinking Sam gathered air and slammed it against the window, and sure enough it shattered like an athlete’s dreams after he breaks an ankle. Using gravity Sam flipped through the window and let her momentum carry her down the street. Allowing herself a victorious glance backwards Sam saw the giant looking at her. He didn’t seem angry, disappointed, or beaten. Samson just smiled out of the corner of his mouth, patient.
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