There is a new prompt out today which has been published by the World Building Community.
They release these posts every day and encourage all of us to focus on and tell stories about a particular aspect of our world. Whether it be something we're writing or a tabletop game we're playing. Even if you aren't writing something right now, I think it's worth following the page, their posts have always been a big inspiration to me. Link To Post.
Today's prompt encourages us to write about some Ghost Stories which would be told in the worlds we're writing and it got me thinking of one. I think instead of doing what I usually do for these prompts, which is write an account of events and talk about different worlds, factions and people. I think I'll write a short story.
The Story
Detrix found himself moving to Scoosha shortly after the occupation of Free Space had abruptly ended. His home-world Zun-Kulla had been left in ruins and without any stable money or work, he figured that the best thing he could do was go. He was left with nothing and no one back there, so it wasn't hard for him to board the next ship heading starward.
The destination hadn't been something he put much thought into Anywhere must be better than here.
He had never been off-world before and in a sense, he was naïve enough to believe that no other world had been affected as badly as his own. He was wrong, which he soon realised after landing on Scoosha. The baking heat constantly battered him. It was hotter than any record braking heatwaves back on Zun-Kulla. Arid, inhospitable, and utterly devoid of the slightest ounce of pity from the locals.
Detrix spent the first few days sleeping rough, dwelling in the blown-out buildings which dotted the largest city. He would sit up awake most nights, afraid of the many people who also called these ruins home.
Work was scarce here too, no matter how many interviews he went on he couldn't find anything. There seemed to be no work fit for a sleep-deprived skill-less beggar.
Until one day about 2 weeks into his stay. A kind man called Tettas approached him as he was leaving yet another interview. The work the man offered seemed easy enough. Scrap retrieval.
The surrounding deserts of Scoosha had become something of a ship graveyard. Which could serve some purpose to the people in the city. Using the hulls of these ships, the buildings and large walls could be repaired. The tech and other useful components could be used too, anything that wasn't needed could also be melted down or sold to neighbouring worlds.
Since Tettas had a plethora of small transport ships at his disposal he was at the right place and time to put them and some unskilled wanderers to work.
The days were long. Detrix would be picked up near the abandoned industrial district he stayed. Picked up along with five others who were in similar situations as he was. Together they would fly out into the desert to find some scrapped ships. Occasionally they would hear the distinctive pings of bullets landing against their hull. But, none could penetrate it, so it wasn't anything to be alarmed by.
His first week went without incident, but, he didn't feel that the payment accounted for the work he was putting into the job. He was happy to have something in his pocket, however.
Detrix woke up one morning with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to cancel work this day but needed the money, so against his better judgment, he boarded his transport ship.
They headed out into the wider wastes, it was the furthest into the desert he had ever been. He and the others left the transport as it landed and they started to do their usual routine, attaching large straps to the wreckage and hooking the other end onto their transporter. But he could hear a low rumble coming from the hull of the wreck.
"Did you hear that?" He asked one of the other workers. Who shook their head in response before carrying on with his work.
Every fibre of Detrix's being was saying to run, but again. Against his own better judgement he continued with the wreckage.
The transporter moved into a low hover, waiting to settle down lower to the ground to let the others inside. Detrix and the others watched as the transporter moved into the air. Banging now could be heard and Detrix was sure he made out a hissing sound too. "Come back! Land! Let us in!" One of the others shouted from the far side of the wreck.
Detrix turned and could see the sand move from beneath the wreckage. "What is that thing?!" He heard another person on the far side of the wreckage shout, before wailing. Letting out a blood-curdling scream. Detrix was frozen. That's when he saw it.
A claw-like hand poked through the sand under the ship. Then another, then another. Before he knew it there was a scaled head too. Whatever it was, the creature was huge. Dread.
His blood ran cold as he stared at the creature. At first, it was like the thing didn't notice him, instead, it was focused on the person beside him. The creature lunged at the other worker, planting its claw into the man's skull, the blood and chunks exploded from him dousing Detrix.
The transporter, seeing what was going on down there decided there was nothing they could do to help the workers. They were only unskilled wanderers after all. So they took off lifting the scrap with them as they left.
Detrix watched it rise to the sky and could feel the sand shifting from beneath his feet. The crater left in the wake of the wreckage gave way to a gaping maw. He watched in slow motion as a mass of the same creatures sporadically moved in the chasm beneath. He slid with the disturbed sand watching as the claws thrashed at the meal coming their way.
No one ever found the remains of any of the workers who died that day. But, some say that Detrix escaped death. Now he forever wanders an endless catacomb beneath the sands of Scoosha looking for his way out.
End Notes
So, this was pretty fun. I kind of feel bad for Detrix, he lived an unlucky life. But, he could have helped himself if he had listened to his gut and followed his own instincts. I guess that would be the moral of the story.
Reason For The Story
I think it has multiple meanings, but the main reason for telling this one would be to stop people wandering out into the deserts alone as they could get lost, or eaten by the creatures that ate Detrix.