Alone with the Unknown

A haunting sci-fi tale, 2019

"Tomorrow is another day."

"I really wish you'd stop saying that."

The voices of two travellers echoed within the forest as the last few rays of daylight were filtered between the thin black trees. A young woman in a worn, pin covered denim jacket comes to a stop in a clearing. She slides the large backpack off her shoulders, wearily slumping down to one knee and taking out supplies to camp for the night. Her companion, a hovering silver orb with a glowing blue eye, slows to a stop a few feet away.

"Abigail. I request permission to scout the area. I will remain within 50 feet -"

"Go ahead, I know the drill by now."

"Thank you. I advise that you do not begin unpacking until I have ensured our relative safety."

The orb moves ahead, sailing higher into the air, it's eye dilating to scan the surroundings. Abigail keeps her eye on it until it's risen through the treeline and out of sight, and then she continues unpacking. 

One by one, she disconnects each bit of her equipment from the solar panel in her bag. She unrolls a thick, black circular pad, about 2 metres wide in the centre of the clearing. Methodically, she plants 6 metal spikes in the ground, in a hexagon around the very edge of the space, blocking herself in. She takes a small remote, clicks a button twice, and the spikes in the ground suddenly shoot up, extending into 10 foot telescopic poles. She takes an ordinary twig from the ground, and casually throws it through the space between the poles. Bang! A loud flash of sparks erupt from the space as the stick arcs through an invisible electrified wall, reaching the other side in blackened smoking pieces. 

At this point the sky has turned from a warm sunset red-ish purple to a quickly darkening blue-ish black. The circular pad is starting to get red hot in the middle, giving off a flickering orange glow. Rolling out a sleeping bag close to the pad where the ground is driest, Abigail takes a seat, looking up at the smattering of stars coming into view above. She takes a deep and weary sigh.

The orb returns, elevating gracefully over the poles.

"I see you have constructed the shock barrier. However, I deem this region a level 5 threat zone. It is imperative for your safety that you also set out the warding incense and -

"Like I've been saying for the last five nights, we've run out of almost everything. I know the territories getting more dangerous the closer we get, but there's nowhere to restock and no turning back."

She opens her sleeping bag and mutters under her breath. "Seriously, out of all the orbs I could have grabbed, why the hell did I get saddled with a model that doesn't remember a goddamn thing I say."

The orb goes quiet for a moment. Re-calibrating, probably. If Abigail didn't know any better, she might have assumed it had taken offence.

"Very well. Entering low power mode now. Sleep well, Abigail."

The orb floats down to the ground until it is resting beside her, and it's eye goes dim.

Abigail does not sleep well.

Several long, silent hours pass. Abigail exhausts herself reading her one and only battered old comic book, and she soon passes out on her side. 

"Do not move. Do not blink. Do not make a sound."

Abigail's eyes fly open and alert at the unexpected sound of the orbs' voice. What the hell is it talking about? She tries not to move, but scans what little of her surroundings she can see for any sign that something is amiss. Beginning to focus, she hears movement behind her. The sound of claws raking through grass and mud at a leisurely pace. Far too close. How did it get through the shock barrier?

A shadow looms over her. A leathery, grey, mottled face, skin pulled taut across its flesh, two tiny beads of light where its eyes should be, and a crescent moon smile full of piranha teeth. This is the visage that cranes into Abigail's field of view on a neck that's too long, rotating slowly to level its eyes with hers. Abigail doesn't move. She grits her teeth inside her mouth, and it takes all the restraint she has not to move her eyes, to defy her instinct to assess more of this creature and the threat it poses, or perhaps more appealingly avert her gaze and pretend it's not there. 

Like a contortionist, moving its body but not its head, the creature brings two stick-like legs over the sleeping bag, the sound of cartilage snapping and popping with every movement. Each limb looks long enough that it probably just stepped over the shock barrier. A third one comes over, elbow settling on the ground, four hooked talons precariously holding something that Abigail can't quite make out with her pupils frozen in place. Finally the creature's face snaps backwards, twisting around to look at the object it's picked up. Now that she's out of its line of sight, Abigail blinks a couple times, and then she focuses on the object as well. Her heart sinks. This abomination has picked up the orb.

The creature turns to the glowing circular pad, and its mouth goes wide. It makes a sound like wind whistling through trees. Abigail can't quite comprehend what she's seeing as the very light itself being produced by the pad seems to bend and shift, being sucked into the entity's unhinged maw, dimming and dimming until the clearing goes pitch black. Shutting her eyes to concentrate on what she can hear and feel through the earth, Abigail thinks she perceives a low dissatisfied rumble from the creature's throat before it starts moving again. She counts seven more legs step over her, and presumably over the barrier again as it lumbers away into the night. 

Damn it. Even if she could find what she's looking for without the orb, it wouldn't matter. That orb is the key.