The Faceless, Part 3 — A Mysterious End

By Graham S. 

Disclaimer: The following article is Part 2 of a fantasy series written by Graham S. It may contain mild fantasy darkness or violence. Reader discretion is advised.

To view other parts of this series, follow the links below:
”THE FACELESS”: WHAT IS IT, AND WHAT INSPIRED IT?
The Faceless, Part 1
The Faceless, Part 2
The Faceless, Part 4 - A Mysterious End (Part 2)

This is a creative writing piece written by a member of the Navigator staff. It is set in the same universe as parts one and two of the creative writing piece known as “The Faceless” and is set a few days after the events of “The Faceless.”

Kesh stood in the dark viewing chamber, staring out into the deep abyss of space, at the distant stars that shone like pinpricks of white hot flame, and the vast white sphere of a planet that sat below the ship. Styros Prime, as the planet was called on League records, was a frozen, hostile world, known for being home to Snowbison and the mind-breaking entities dubbed “Unusual Fauna.” For reasons that had not been explained to Kesh, the Omen wanted this world brought into his Leagues. For this purpose, an exploration team had been dispatched, along with two thousand convicts, with the objective of establishing colonies on Styros. Kesh was part of said exploratory team. Not as a convict, of course, he would never commit a crime against the Leagues of Omen. Kesh had the honor of being the secretary of Lieutenant Haythe, the expedition’s head of security. 



Kesh’s moment of quiet was disturbed by the soft hum of an incoming message on his communicator. He glanced at the device hanging at his waist and was presented with a message from Lieutenant Haythe, which read: “I am going to the ground. Come to hangar two immediately.” Kesh paled as he read the message. Lieutenant Haythe was going to the planet and had invited him of all people! He was suited more for offices and the comfort of a ship’s warm interior, not the frigid wastes of Styros Prime. Still, Kesh could not ignore a direct order from the Lieutenant, so he quickly pulled on a coat, boots and hat, before making his way to the hangar.



As Kesh entered the hangar, he noticed Lieutenant Haythe’s familiar, grizzled face, which was partially concealed by the rebreather that he wore around his mouth. Standing at his side was a team of soldiers, dressed in their standard-issue black uniform, rebreather, goggles and helmet. Haythe’s eyes were slightly bloodshot, with dark bags underneath them, as if he hadn’t slept very well. “There you are, boy,” he said, “Hop aboard the lander.” He gestured to a nearby landing-craft, its grav-tendrils deployed and slowly moving up and down, as it hunted for a gravitational pull to latch onto. Kesh nervously made his way aboard, followed by the Lieutenant and the soldiers. The door to the lander slid shut and the interior lights flickered on, casting a warm glow about the lander’s inside. Kesh felt the vehicle rumble beneath his feet, as it was jettisoned into space and its grav-tendrils locked onto Styros Prime’s gravitational pull, dragging them down towards the planet’s surface. 



“Our objective is very simple. One of our colonies, DE-12467, recently went dark,” said Lieutenant Haythe, “It suffered an attack from a mob of Unusual Fauna a couple days back, so we sent a team to reinforce it. Earlier this morning, our scanners abruptly stopped receiving bio-signatures from it. We’re supposed to scout it out and see if our scanners are simply glitching, or if everyone is dead.” Kesh shuddered at the idea of landing on the planet and finding nothing but corpses, or, worse yet, whatever made the colonists into corpses. 



***



The planet was colder than Kesh was expecting, which was saying something. If he stood still for more than a few seconds, he could feel his feet beginning to turn numb. He shuddered, shuffling in the snow to keep himself warm. He surveyed the desolate landscape around him, finding it unnerving. The endless white plains and complete lack of anything made him wonder what in all the stars the Omen needed this place for. The only break in the white canvas of earth was the ruined remains of the HAB that had once stood in the plains, which was now reduced to a pile of charred rubble. He watched the soldiers sift through the snow and splinters of metal, looking for any clues as to what caused the destruction. Lieutenant Haythe had determined that it couldn’t be Unusual Fauna, as they didn’t have any ability to cause explosions or fire, meaning that the HAB had been destroyed by either a freak accident with the HAB’s heating system, or something more sophisticated had destroyed the HAB. 


Kesh frowned at the idea of something more intelligent than an Unusual Fauna living on Styros. The planet’s initial sweep hadn’t revealed any raider camps, or the presence of any rival countries, so what could have happened? As he sat in thought, he noticed markings in the snow. Footprints, leading off into the wastes. Kesh stared at them momentarily, before slowly beginning to follow the tracks. Snow began to fall, threatening to cover the prints, so he moved faster, hurrying into a jog. He made his way over a snowdrift, when the prints stopped. Before Kesh could speculate as to why, he felt the cold barrel of a weapon press into the back of his head. “Don’t move,” said a soft voice behind him, “I won’t let you take me too.”

To be continued.

Graham S. lives in Africa, in the Democratic Republic of Congo. He has been studying at Northstar for two years and is in tenth grade. He enjoys reading, writing, video games, Dungeons and Dragons, and Warhammer 40k. He hopes to one day be an author but currently is enjoying being a journalist for the Navigator.

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