Final Earth (Preview)

  Look alive! This one's still breathing.
  A weird, raspy and rough voice woke the man up who was unconscious and smelling something odd. His head was hurting on both sides and his attempt to get up failed because he couldn't feel his arms. Instead, he just sat up. He couldn't remember even falling asleep or how he got here. The face he saw was accompanied by others, all of which looked somewhat human, and yet... somewhat not.
  From the perspective of the person who woke him up, he could see that this man was undergoing conversion into one of their kind in the Machine. He was going through the second phase. The flesh on the sides of his head had been torn off and replaced with paler skin and he couldn't feel his arms because the Machine had tried to improve their strength, until the fluid woke him up early.
  This wasn't the first time this happened, but it was still disappointing. If a convert is brought back to life early by the fluids, the effects of the Machine are irreversible and unchangeable, so his numb arms made him useless even as a slave.
  "How do you feel?" the odd-looking person asked in his rough, raspy voice.
  "My head... is in pain-" the man began to say.
  The strange person interrupted him by elongating his fingers, unhinging his jaw, showing long fangs that weren't there a second ago, his eyes becoming darker and wolf-like and grabbed both sides of his head, clawing into it. The man screamed in both more pain than he already had and in pure, abject terror, unable to resist as this now monstrous person planted his foot into his chest to keep him steady while he pulled on his skull.
  After a short few seconds, the creature finally tore the man's head right off.
  "Shame. He had a strong body; would've made a fine addition to the ranks," a sentry said.
  The one that killed the man rehinged his jaw and returned his teeth, fingers, and eyes to normal. "Well, doesn't much matter now. Get back to your post."
  
  "You see what I'm doing here?" the training officer, named Xanthius, asked his student.
  "Yes, I believe I understand how this is done," the trainee answered, observing that the human child in question was being chained to a pillar with a double loop and bound tightly so she couldn't easily resist. She still struggled to get free, whimpering at this.
  "Good," the commander replied, then gestured to the other human child kept in her chamber by two guards. "Now I want you to take that one and bind it to your pillar."
  The student looked to the human girl, who for one thing, Xanthius had referred to as "it." She was young, no more than ten years old, frail, and in so much fear at all that was happening around her.
  "Exactly what is to happen to her after that?" the trainee asked.
  "We will feed it into the Machine and convert it to one of the dames. Simple as that. This will be your first lesson," Xanthius said a bit sternly, showing to be one of the impatient type. His large blade, too big and heavy for any human to handle, rocked back and forth on his back as he stood back up.
  He knew how this worked: they would kill her- poison her, then put her into the Machine so she would be hacked up and changed into one of them. It didn't matter if she was human; she shouldn't have to bear such things.
  "Well? Are you going to do this or what?"
  "I don't think I can do that, sir," the student said nervously.
  The trainer scowled at him. "Yes, you can."
  "No, I cannot," the trainee insisted.
  Xanthius was really starting to get angered by his subordinate. It wasn't uncommon that new soldiers show a rebellious edge; such thoughts could be beaten out of their minds. He just didn't like having to do that. "If you cannot respect authority, there is no place for you in the armies. Now either you do this or you will find yourself with scars before you even see battle!"
  The trainee picked up a large battle hammer from a weapons rack behind him and held it firmly in his hands. "I'm sorry, sir, I can't stand for such actions!"
  His superior's eyes turned darker and wolf-like, making him look even angrier and he drew his red blade, which had claimed hundreds of victims and was never cleaned. His armor clanked with each movement. "You dare raise a weapon against me, boy?"
  "If I must, then I will!"
  Xanthius hoped that he didn't have to kill this young student, since he would be a good soldier if not for his nature. Even so, he rested the tip of his blade on the stone ground while gripping the handle. "Fool! I am a master in several kinds of weaponry while you don't even have any training! Think carefully: do you wish to fight on the impulses of your own stubborn mind or under the influence of a commission?"
  The trainee hesitated, but showed to have a very hard head by charging at his own superior.
  The angry officer raised his blade and charged as well, ducking under the hammer's swing and at the same time slashed through his subordinate's side. He didn't even need to use his magic on him.
  The young soldier cried out in pain and stopped in his tracks to look at his new wound, which was deep and bleeding profusely. Already feeling dizzy, he collapsed to his knees and dropped his hammer. This meant that he was bleeding out and would die from this wound. Upon realizing this, he fell the rest of the way to the ground and passed out, never to wake up.
  The girl chained to the pillar in front of his body whimpered and cried at this sight. If this was what they did to the disobedient ones, what would they do to her?
  Xanthius sheathed his blade covered in dried blood and angrily grumbled as he walked over to the other human child. He did not like having to do everything himself.

  "Come on, you cattle! Move faster!" one of the people with a frightening appearance told us.
  "Don't worry, my love! We'll still be married and together, even with whatever they do to us!" the last grown man said to his woman as they were being separated.
  The men were taken directly to what these strange people, who referred to themselves as Temera, called the Machine and put into the left tunnel leading into it. That's what happened to my father, though I think I heard his screaming not a minute ago. All the females, women and children alike, were chained to pistons and prepared for the Machine before being fed into the right tunnel. I even saw one crying and struggling to get free of one of the muscular soldiers before he silenced her by putting his armored hand over her mouth. She looked directly at me, her eyes oozing tears and showing fear and longing, as if to beg me for help, but I just couldn't come to her rescue.
  I just saw my mother's body be put into the Machine. She looked dead, but she couldn't be, could she? They needed her alive, right?
  What about us, the young boys? The men were being made into soldiers, but what was to become of us? I could see some boys with blank expressions in their eyes, like they were being corrupted, just mindlessly tending to the Machine, moving crates to certain locations, or sharpening troops' weapons for them. Were they going to turn us into slaves, too?
  This was a seaside cave and the ocean was directly behind us. Knowing this, I slowed down, just a little, letting some boys go ahead of me. Maybe if I hurried, I could run through those ships stationed there and dodge the guard's blades, and I could make it out and swim back to a city and tell someone about all this.
  "Halt!" I heard a soldier bark. For a moment, I thought he was yelling at me, but then the whole crowd stopped and he stepped to the front, addressing all of us. "You are all here for one purpose: to serve us," he simply said in a hissy voice, which was met with loud protests from nearly all the boys. "And to ensure that you comply..."
  At this moment, he pulled a handful of powder out of his satchel and tossed it at the first few rows of boys. Immediately, the ones it hit fell to the ground, almost as if they had died. In absolute horror, all the other boys and I turned back and started running for the sea.
  This was actually better for me. The guards were able to mow down some escapees with their blades, but there were too many for all of them to handle. Luckily for me, I was able to avoid getting my neck sliced and dove into the salty water. After that, I swam as fast as I could, the very thought of getting away driving me forward. Apparently, I had great determination because I was passing some of the other boys, though some were drowning instead of swimming.
  "Release the birds!" one of the creatures called out. I dared look back and saw troops on the cliffside open cages that unleashed white owls with black spots that were big enough to carry off a toddler.
  They each flew over to the group and grabbed a boy by the head and lifted his face up so they could plunge long, barbed tongues through their eyesockets and into their brains. This meant that they probably did not want anyone else learning about what was going on here.
  But I was not going to give up now. The moment I saw a giant owl grab the boy a few feet to my right, I took a deep breath and submerged. The seawater stung my eyes, but I kept going until I found a boulder to latch onto. Even down there, I could hear the screams of the dying and the shrieks of the oversized owls, so I was able to use the noise from the surface to tell me when it was time to take a breath.
  The noise died down just as I was starting to feel dizzy, signalling me to swim back up and gasped for air. I looked to the cave and noticed no more owls, but there might have been someone looking my way to make sure there were only dead bodies out here, so I lied down on my back, pretending to be one of the bodies. After several long minutes, I mustered up the courage to look toward the cavern again. Seeing no activity, I turned back over and began swimming again.
  I was the sole survivor. If anyone was to tell the authorities about this, it had to be me. With that newfound determination, I swam faster than I ever had before. The only problem was that this place was probably far away from any civilization or else someone would have discovered it by now. That is, unless someone did but were rudely evicted by those savages. But it made no difference; I had to make it somewhere.

  Another stroke... How long had I been at this? Another stroke... I had my eyes closed for a while. Another stroke... I was really getting exhausted. Every motion hurt. Another stroke...
  Maybe if I just pause to look around. Looking back, neither the cave nor the island were in sight any longer. Looking in front, I could see the shore of another continent, whichever one it was. It was sort of close; perhaps I could make it if I tried.
  Though I was still tired, I ordered my arms to keep swinging, forced my legs to keep kicking so I could make it. There was a monastery there, so those people would definitely take me in.
  I kept doing it, the beach getting closer and closer. My hand finally struck sand and I tried to stand up, but my legs refused to stay steady. I tried to pull myself in, but my arms also failed me. Very well, I just took a rest there, letting the water wash me to shore.
  Rest. Never had that word sounded so beautiful.

  "Oh, you're awake now," I heard an old, kindly voice say as I opened my eyes. Apparently, I fell asleep there.
  I attempted movement, but my head was the only thing that didn't protest with a jolt of pain when I moved it. It hurt just to breathe.
  "Don't try to get up. Here, drink," the old, bearded man told me as he put a bowl of water to my lips. After spending a long time in salt water, fresh water had never tasted sweeter than it did now.
  "There, good," the man congratulated, removing the now empty bowl. "What's your name, son?"
  I paused to take a breath. "Damien," I answered.
  The monk nodded. "Very good, Damien, you're looking all right so far. Where did you come from?"
  "I... I don't know," I answered, which was the truth, since I didn't know where I was and therefore couldn't tell directions. Then I remembered the happenings at the cave and hoped this person had authority. "I was taken... to a cave by... savage people that didn't look... entirely human," I continued, having to take tired breaths between words. "They took my family and killed so many people."
  I was very saddened by that, but again, I was too tired even to cry.
  "Is this true?" the bearded man said. "The priest may want to hear that. How far did you swim?"
  "Very far," I replied. "Honestly... I can't believe I made it."
  "It must have been terrible if you swam away from a place so far we can't even see it on the horizon. But you didn't leave to escape, did you? You wanted to make sure someone knew about it, correct?"
  Wow, he knew me good already. "Yes..."
  "Stay here then. I'll get the priest. You'll need to rest for a while, but I have a feeling you have a long journey ahead of you."
  Maybe so. Being the sole survivor of a massacre at a remote island that probably wasn't even on a map would already make me legendary, especially for a ten-year-old.