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Mr. Destruction – Horror Flash Fiction

February 5, 2016

Picture prompt from Facebook group Elements of Genre Writing

Mr Destruction

Mr. Destruction

Recorder on. Please begin your transmission.

Olbreck, reporting. Day 360. Solar system 29-199. Planet 834.

I have been on this forsaken rock for nearly one rotation of its cycle. I have warned these creatures twice over their planet-wide ‘net in the hopes that they will redeem themselves. They have not complied. Instead, they have labeled me Mr. Gloomy Doom and a lunatic. As ordered by the Overlord, today I will give them one final warning.

I do not understand these creatures. They kill with no impunity, their own kind as well as the animals and plants, and they do not replace what they kill. They have stripped this rock of all minerals and precious gems. They have polluted the very air they need to survive and replaced it with artificial air. Their oceans are dead and their lakes have dried up. They create water in laboratories, bottle it and sell it for huge profits. These creatures walk around with devices strapped to their heads. Their reality is artificial. Their lives are artificial. And in 35 days, they will take to the stars, bringing their destruction with them.

It is time for my broadcast. Olbreck out.

Recorder off.

Video feed on.

Citizens of this planet. I come to you with one final warning. There is still time to return your planet to its former glory. My people can help you, but you must comply to our demands. I have studied your history. You once treated this planet with kindness and respect. You walked this planet but left no footprints. Let us help you return to your past. Stop the senseless killing, the stripping of natural resources, the wasting away of your wildlife. Embrace your neighbors with love and compassion. Throw out the corrupt politicians and business men and women, give up your luxury drugs and unplug from your false realities. You have five days to comply. This is your final warning.

Video feed off.

Olbreck sat at his control panel and watched the flood of messages roll up his monitor. He watched the videos broadcasted from Heads of State all over the planet. They continued to call him Mr. Gloomy Doom. Laughed at his warning. Carried on as though they hadn’t a care in the world. He sighed. Turned off the feeds and shut down the monitor.

Recorder on. Please begin your transmission.

Olbreck, reporting. Day 363. Solar system 29-199. Planet 834.

Today I sat in an artificial “open” cafe and observed. Nothing has changed. I witnessed three murders in broad daylight, two assaults, one kidnapping of a young child, a female being dragged away for only the Overlord knows what, a bombing, and senseless waste being left at curbsides. No one talks. Everyone is plugged in to their devices. Unless they are committing unspeakable crimes, everyone ignores everyone else. I read on their news feed that their currencies world-wide have plummeted. No one seems to be panicking except those who already had very little. Beggars are everywhere today and all are being shunned. I made the headlines all of two hours after my broadcast three days ago. Out of sight, out of mind. The hourly reports of the space crafts ready for launch in 32 days is all anyone on the ‘net discusses. Overlord save us if these creatures make it into space.

Recorder off.

Olbreck spent his remaining days witnessing the horrors of this world. He walked the streets of major cities, small towns and villages. Blood flowed down city streets, whole villages were burned, women raped, children and animals slaughtered. A world leader declared an air and water emergency planet-wide. The price for both left millions dying in the streets. Food sat in vendors’ carts decaying as few could afford to buy food. Only those still plugged-in carried on with their normal routines. They offered no solace to the poor and needy. Finally, Olbreck could stand no more and resigned himself to his quarters.

Recorder on. Please begin your transmission.

Olbreck, reporting. Day 365. Solar system 29-199. Planet 834.

This is my final recording. I have summoned my shuttle to pick me up from the top of the highest building in what they call New York City. I have hacked into all of their ‘net systems. The entire world will witness my ascent back into space. At exactly 1800 hours, I will rain down upon this rock my greatest weapon. Today they will know my true name – Mr. Destruction, Destroyer of Worlds. I have no regrets for what I must do. This is my sworn duty. May the Overlord have mercy on their souls.

Recorder off.

Β©February 2016 Lori Carlson. All rights reserved.

(771 words)

 

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2 Comments
  1. Quite riveting. And that picture will haunt me for a long time.

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