Tagged: mole man

1,000 Words

Dear Planet Earth,

Let’s talk about the picture. Everyone else here is. Private McCarthy and I found it on the side of a pizza joint downtown. Some others are talking about seeing similar graffiti on a Dumpster and a garage door.

It’s your typical tyrannical propaganda poster, or so says Dr. Eimer. An image resembling a mole man gas mask is framed by the phrases “OBEDIENCE IS LIFE” and “DISOBEDIENCE IS DEATH.” This is the same mantra that ended their last message plastered across cyberspace.

We’re looking at this with muted concern, holding back fears of a counterattack or spies within our ranks (the two saboteurs’ execution is still fresh in our minds). If we were worried about anything, it would be the fact that the graffiti was remarkably clean in an area that was definitely a part of the fighting when we retook Seattle. Someone had to put it up recently, or so logic would tell us. But the one consolation we can all count on is the fact that logic died long ago.

Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger

Dear Planet Earth,

Ever since the last battle, I’ve been getting a lot more grins, high fives, and patronizing pats on the back. You’d never know that just three months ago everyone treated me like a leper who vandalized cars and falsely accused people of stealing his stuff.

They’ve started calling me “The Exterminator,” and I’m not sure whether to take that as just a nice nickname or an ironic insult. But I said before that I don’t care what others think of me, be it man or mole man, and I’m sticking to that.

I’m beyond such petty concepts as praise or vitriol. I’m a soldier now who only has room to group the world into either enemies or allies. I’m The Exterminator.

That Time I Saved Us All

Dear Planet Earth,

I wish I had seen a trail of smoke arching toward the devious drill snake from my Shoulder Mounted Ass Wiper. A translucent line leading up to the gaping hole under the beast’s belly — that’s all I would need to truly know that the shot came from me. That I killed it.

The way it really happened, there was just a loud hiss and then a big BOOM a second later. The mole man weapon groaned and twitched. It moved and sounded as though it weren’t a machine at all, but something alive, something conscious. It fell to the ground with an earth-shaking THUD. Sparks and smoke came out of its many new openings.

I struggled to get up under the weight of the SMAW and the shock of just shooting a freaking missile into a freaking tank equipped with drills, saws, and Gatling guns. My allies quickly surrounded the drill snake, keeping their rifles drawn on it. They yelled things out to each other that I didn’t understand, if I heard them at all.

A small door opened on its side followed by a small man. He landed on his back and began coughing through his red-eyed mask. The soldiers yelled louder now, slowly inching toward the writhing mole man. He reached at his leg and pulled out a strange-looking pistol. It was huge compared to him, covered in blinking lights and steaming pipes. He was riddled with holes before he could get a little finger around the trigger.

When it was all over and my last drop of adrenaline had gone, I fell back to the ground. I looked at the grey Seattle skyline and the iconic Space Needle framed on all sides by fire and testosterone. And then I passed the fuck out.

Alive

Dear Planet Earth,

Yay! I’m alive! I don’t want to go into exactly who killed what mole man at which slave labor camp now, but be assured, I’m alive and I’m a total badass. I’ve been running on fumes for days, but my badassery remains intact.

Guess where we’re at right now.

Seattle. We’re in Seattle, Washington.

I’m going to pass out for the next eighteen hours.

Liberation Day

Dear Planet Earth,

It’s been a seemingly unending series of ups and downs, battles that would determine the outcome of the entire world, and the ever-present threat of dying, unremembered and unmourned at any second. Yet this small, precious achievement is clear — we are free.

I awoke last week to the sound of distant explosions that became louder and louder with each successive blast. The ground shook and instantly made me think of earthquakes as I fell from my bed. I rubbed the newest bump on my head and corrected myself. Mortars.

I ran to the window of my cell door, desperate for any clue of what was going on. It was a long wait, repeatedly looking up and down the musty hallway populated only by rats and my own echoing pleas. An answer finally came half an hour later with the drumming of footsteps and someone shouting, “Hello? Anyone here?”

“Here!” I screamed. “I’m in here!”

I could feel tears and a smile starting to form; I tried my best to stop them in case this was all some cruel joke the mole people had orchestrated. The man came closer.

“Just you down here?”

“I think so,” I said, straining my neck to see who my savior was. “Karter?”

He looked starved and dirty. His hallowed cheeks and sunburned skin told me he had been put to work on the labor camp as I feared.

“Scotty-boy? Thought you were dead.”

I was about to ask him about Maria, and Rachel, and a hundred other people who I really didn’t want to know the fates of.

“No key, huh?” he said after quickly examining the door. He reached behind his back for something small. “My last one. Hope you’re worth it.”

He placed the unpinned grenade in front of the door and bounded away. I did the same.

POOOOM!

Then I lost my hearing.

Homos

Dear Planet Earth,

More noteworthy notes from the intriguing A History of the Inheritors:

“Homo soricomorpha and homo sapien evolved simultaneously and somewhat peacefully — at first. Their numerous shared characteristics are too dominant to ignore. They are nearly identical physically, both bipedal and with two upper appendages infinitely useful for their respective tools.

“However, the humans can easily be discerned by their comparatively colossal height. Though some fully-developed humans do resemble the Inheritors’ short stature, no significant studies have yet found a common link between these supposed ‘dwarves’ and homo soricomorpha. Humans also deviate in that they are virtually hairless. Both sexes grow ample hair on the tops of their heads, and some males do often sprout more on other parts of their bodies, yet they still contrast greatly with the superior Inheritors.

“Those who have had the opportunity to study both of these species up close generally agree that the most striking difference between them lies in the eyes. Humans are notorious for having a wide spectrum of pigments in their eyes due to the constant strain of adapting to both sunlight and natural darkness. This, in addition to their oftentimes darker skin, make them an odd sight next to the familiar whiteness of their evolutionary cousins. Interestingly, there are some cases of humans born with naturally light skin, hair, and eyes who display an extreme aversion to sunlight, though as with the ‘dwarves,’ it is unlikely that they share any ancestry with homo soricomorpha.”