Chapter 001 - The Wrong Person

  Manchester is a relatively nice city in the country of England, large enough to get lost, small enough to not be London. It’s early evening, a cold Thursday in November, Mark has just arrived home, slightly wet from the spontaneous downpour that had become more common over the last few months.

  His flat, or apartment wasn’t far from the metro line, it was all very convenient, 5 mins to the station and after 20 mins in the crowded carriage, a 5 min walk to a grey lifeless building for another 8+ hours. His job, attempting to organise the chaotic ideas of shareholders and stakeholders into passable end results for this period's “Big Project”. After which was the return: the same crowded carriage, the same walking just to a different lifeless building. There the average evening was defined with tinkering on one of his list of unfinished projects, followed by mediocre food, some television, then sleep. Rinse and repeat until the weekend.

  This evening was no different, Mark had arrived home, turned on the TV for some background and went to check on his current project of the month. A 3D printed scale model of the Babylon 5 space station, the completed design was going to take 2 to 3 weeks to print at his current pace. Each of the individual segments took hours to print, all that before he could even think about the assembly, but it was a good drain on time that allowed him to relax.

  It was no small miracle that the 3D printer hadn’t butchered today's print, it was being practically anti-social with some of the recent sections, the front section had taken 3 attempts alone before it behaved and stayed on the print bed. On checking there was about an hour left of the “Grey Sector” portion and its associated solar panels, time enough to start dinner and sit down.

  Walking from his living room and office space towards the kitchen, Mark passed the mirror in the hall. Today work and life in general had made him look tired, far older than should be for his age. Standing there he was just under 6 foot in height, short and rough brown hair with the start of a beard growing, his work suit looking a little worn from working overtime most of the week so far. A few hours in the gym wouldn’t hurt his soft middle or some definition in the arms, but time didn’t seem to be too kind currently.

  “We apologise for interrupting your normal viewing habits.” Whatever was previously on the TV in the background had clearly been changed, maybe even increasing in volume, and was equally as uninteresting as whatever was on before. Yesterday's leftovers of pasta and meatballs warranted the attention, his first successful attempt at home made pasta that didn't burn the pan.

  Once covered and the timer set for the microwave, he turned towards the living area, leaning against the kitchen worktop, the uninteresting broadcast and the faint sound of the 3D printer the only other distractions as the digits counted down.

  “Your governments have lied to you”, Mark laughed at the flat artificial voice, that fact being obvious to anyone these days without even an interest in politics, but it was enough to draw his attention to move to see the screen for a few moments.

  “The so-called unity of advancements for green energy and manufacture are lies within lies”, pictures of the new solar power systems that had been deployed across cities, key advancements that had massively reduced electricity prices everywhere, flashed across the screen with similar recent projects.

  “Today we take back our future from the outsiders”, the images were now of what appeared to be something out in the ocean somewhere, really bad quality until it rapidly zoomed in to reveal buildings that wouldn’t be out of place in ancient Rome.

  “Their presence is unwanted, and with this we accept that others will disagree, but now there is no turning back!” The screen changed, now tracking what looked like a rocket, something large and rocket shaped, perhaps a missile of some kind, and as the camera zoomed out the rocket impacted the Roman-like island in a flash of intense colours.

  The floor simply fell away from under Mark, falling just a few feet, but onto a small bed of fresh snow under a broken canopy of trees, the sharp coldness spreading through his shoes. Resisting the urge to throw up just long enough to look through the canopy at two moons, he was sure he heard his microwave ping as he was struck by a monstrous headache.

  He fell towards the closest trees around him, this was worse than any hangover he could remember, his mind and body fighting to decide on throwing up. Around him the air was cold and clean, clean in a way that wasn't possible in the cityscape of Manchester. The disconnect triggered old memories, spending time walking through some of the patched forest areas of the Peak District national park, many years ago with friends. This at least was a distraction from what was going on.

  With great effort his breathing started to slow, the changes in environment started to truly register, and it wasn’t anywhere he knew. He needed to work out where he was, with the sick feeling his first guess wasn’t where, but what. What happened? Probably drugged was one explanation, and/or kidnapped or something worse. The increasing number of equally unlikely but seemingly possible scenarios fueling an increasing feeling of dread, fueled by years of exaggerated television programs.

  The where was semi-easier, it was obvious that he was in a forest, or at the least a dense patch of woodland. Every direction he looked there were more trees, at a guess they may have been pine, but that was just as likely to be wrong. Then there is snow underfoot, for November it was possible, but there hadn't been any around Manchester for enough years to be a distant memory. Just how far from the city had he been taken to end up in this kind of environment? Scotland?

  A few more deep, less than calming breaths and he listened, he thought of traffic, if he could get to a road he could at least follow it somewhere. And there was nothing to hear, or of what he was hoping for in the name of a direction. There was the wind, the occasional animal sounds, but no cars, not yet. Maybe that would change as he moved, something may drive by and… Water! There was the sound of running water somewhere in that direction, whichever direction that was, it was now somewhere to head to, and moving waters normally went past towns or farms.

  As he started to walk, more things were wrong, not just feeling physically sick or the near migraine levels of headache. He was now having issues with his vision, his focus seemed off or wrong, the sky devoid of the lights of the city was filled with stars, constellations that were incorrect… he panned his vision across, it seemed to split, and two moons weren't right.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  His stomach finally won out with gut-wrenching pain, the headache becoming vertigo, to his momentary relief his pasta had been left in the microwave reducing him to dry heaving. It didn’t stop him collapsing into the snow.

  After some recovery, there was a further 20 mins of staggering between trees and stops to contain episodes of vertigo he arrived at a stream. In other circumstances a very picturesque patch of wide running water with rocks and grass over both sides. The water was perfectly clear, small fish visible as they darted from the shallows to the small patches of deeper water. He didn’t hesitate as he plunged his hands into the water, gulping down handfuls from near freezing water. It was here he noticed that he was physically extremely cold, his office suit was not designed for this and the water while refreshing had exemplified the point.

  The laugh he produced could only be described as that of a madman, he couldn’t help himself, he was screwed and he knew it. Cold, hungry and for all accounts, alone. In some random forest in the middle of who knows where, and if his life is going to be dependent on his ability to make a campfire, then the universe has picked the wrong person. There was still a little hope this was some elaborate scam, or people somewhere waiting to jump out at him, but even that was slipping away as he looked upwards.

  His aim was to shout some obscenities at this offensive universe, until he was silenced as his eyes finally focused and settled on the two moons. He’d glanced at them before through the trees when he first ended up here, but didn't really register why they were wrong. They were a pair, neither were correct, the first of them was large and the right grey color, its basic markings, its craters, its features, were wrong. Something he knew without a doubt from the countless hours he would spend staring endlessly into space. The other, outside of existing, was also just wrong. It had a green hue to it, or maybe it was green itself, the patterns reminding him of satellite images of Earth, the Amazon seen from high above.

  He continued to squint towards them, before the pain building in his head won out, having him shouting in agony, before collapsing, losing track of the world as everything went dark.

  He wasn’t sure how long it was, maybe moments, maybe hours, but as he shivered back to consciousness he knew something had to be very wrong with him. The headache was still there, as was the fluctuating ability to focus, even his strength felt diminished as he struggled to push himself to his feet. The dampness of the snow he was laying in had now soaked his clothing through, thankful it was the snow he collapsed in and not the stream beside him, but that didn't change the dire situation he was in.

  There were still no sounds of traffic, this and the continued lack of light pollution, or any signs of civilization. The consideration of the end was still a distant thought, but now it existed as a tangible possibility.

  Then he saw it, and whatever it was, was looking back towards him, glaring at him as the grasses of the opposite side of the riverbank parted as it moved. His first guess was some kind of monkey, he could barely see it through his broken vision, his estimate putting it around 2 feet tall. Monkeys normally had a lot of hair, or was it fur? This just had tufts at random spacing, and a deep red hue to its exposed sink. It was when he saw its face he considered he was possibly hallucinating, its large nose, huge eyes and pointed ears, and its teeth… Rows of sharp and pointed teeth designed to rip and tear, contained within a smile that belonged on something as maddening as a clown.

  It jumped… Covering the width of the stream effortlessly.

  Instinctively Mark raised his arms to brace himself, noticing the large tree branch the creature was swinging all too late. The impact across his arms and head sent him rolling in pain, the force of the blow disproportionate to its small size.

  The creature continued to attack, Mark unable to fight back, only able to block the onslaught with his increasingly bruised arms and legs. It was screaming, laughing as it continued the relentless assault. The forked tail gave him the association, the need to name the creature at this time wasn’t something he could explain, but naming it an imp somehow allowed him to focus a little more.

  The imp, his new companion in these empty woods was not intent with how the fight was going, yes it was winning, but there was a sinister if simple intelligence behind those eyes that was not satisfied.

  There were no broken bones yet, for that he was thankful, but the imp stopping to laugh and stare did not fill him with any hope. From his prone position he tried to grab around him, maybe a stick, large stone, for something to use to defend himself, or maybe give the imp a reason to leave, making too much effort for the results.

  Fire… Horror engulfed him as he watched the imp, somehow fire started to consume the stick, crackling red and orange flames as it started to advance once again with his new flaming club.

  The imps' first lunge missed, thankfully, the speed and force of the swing causing the flames to dissipate. The momentary flaming illumination reduced to broken moonlight, leaving shadows to further expand its sinister smile.

  Relief only lasted a moment, the imp seemed to pulse in anger at its own failed attack. It was only delayed, the fire returned by whatever method it was using, magic or otherwise did not really matter at this point. The imp represented a painful end, fire was not in his top ways to go, and that wasn’t really his choice any more.

  Maybe there would be a next life, there were always stories of reincarnation, other worlds, other lives, maybe next time…

  Only this wasn't the end, and next time would have to wait.

  The imp, the creature that had slowly backed him against the tree, preparing its final attack, was now missing most of its upper body. Its lower body was all that remained, standing there almost comically for the moment as it exploded in a rain of blood and innards, the small area around it now a mess of red. Before what was left fell forwards, devoid of all life.

  He thought of running, hoping it was the only one and that fate had saved him somehow, maybe these creatures just exploded after some time…

  That is if he could run, his body as beaten as it felt wasn’t the worst of it, the idea of even standing had him at the point of blacking out again, or attempting to empty his already empty stomach.

  After closing his eyes, just for a moment, he felt something was different. The creature's lower body was still there, leaking what was left of its inside, the forest was still silent, but there was something else there.

  With what remained of his conscious effort he willed his eyes to focus on the white blur behind the body, moonlight seeming to slow, casting a steady beam of illumination. Before him was a magnificent creature, its coat a pattern of whites and greys, to gaze upon it was to feel truly helpless, accepting the reality of what it was.

  The cat, probably some kind of leopard or similar, was majestic, almost magical, he even convinced himself he was watching streaks of the darkest blue move through its fur. The air around it seemed to be in a perpetual state of frozen mist, then its eyes…

  Mark locked eyes with it, for a moment its eyes glowed with the same deep blue, then he found the rest of the imps body. The cat was chewing on it, the signs were all there, the imp had been bisected by this cat, movements within the blink of an eye.It had become its appetizer, and Mark laughed at fate's cruel trick.

  Darkness overtook him, his final vision, that of the car and its meal, the pain of the headache overtook him as he lost his fight to stay conscious.