Survivor of the Psychic Wars
Song Title Fiction Challenge: Blue Öyster Cult (A Science Fantasy Story)
As a veteran of the Psychic Wars and a survivor of all three, Brad ended up as a death row inmate. Sentenced to death without being given the chance to prove that he was innocent. He begged and groveled and even gave a detailed recollection of his victories in the wars but to no avail.
The night before he was sentenced to death, he heard the rattling of chains and saw some shadowy figures outside of his cell.
As a participant of the psychic wars, he was used to feeling the heavy weight of the emotions and thoughts of others around him — he could even sense them from almost a mile away.
But these radiated strange energy. However, none of their passing thoughts were detectable, which caught him by surprise.
“What do you want with me?” he asked gruffly. “If you want to take me out early, get on with it already.”
There were two figures in front of him. Both of them had glowing blue eyes.
He’d never seen anyone like them before.
“When the war comes home, it turns the mind, the heart, and the soul into flaming telepaths,” one of them stated.
“After dark, the sole survivor shakes with fury and wanders out alone, haunted by visions of those who seek after death. War follows him wherever he goes, even though they say it’s over. They celebrate out in the streets, never knowing the full extent of the cost. Or the lies told or favors exchanged in the shadows. But this survivor knows. And he will never be at peace again,” the other replied.
“As it was foretold. Fate has many mirrors — many connections between parallel minds from worlds both known and unknown, but all of them reveal the same lonely teardrops in the end,” the other shadowy figure said grimly.
“Can you just get to the point already?” he raised his voice at them. “You can recite riddles and morbid stories to me all night, but it won’t change what will happen in the morning.”
“Evidence. That’s what you need,” the figure looked straight into his eyes.
“Yeah, but it’s too late for that. Nobody believes a word I’ve said. I’m on everyone’s bad side now,” Brad said.
Suddenly the prison door was unlocked, and the two shadowy figures beckoned Brad to follow them.
I can’t believe my luck. Is this a test of fate? Or is this a trap set by undercover spies sent from a planet another Universe away?
Brad decided to follow them and find out. Whether he died at the hands of these two infuriatingly cryptic strangers or by electrocution in front of government officials, it made no difference to him.
They led him through an underground maze, and Brad was dismayed by how advanced and intricate they were, technically and architecturally speaking.
“Then came the last days of May, another soul to take, another soul to tempt fate, another soul to initiate,” the first figure said.
“And in the presence of another world, the divine wind carries the dreams of many and the triumphs of the few,” his partner replied solemnly.
Brad rolled his eyes. Not another one of their pseudo-poetic lines. But still, he followed them. There were security cameras on every corner. However, the first figure took a rather abrupt sharp turn and they went down a narrow and eerie hallway.
Finally, the figures opened the door in front of them. Chills went down his spine when he saw hundreds more of these figures all in a circle, holding candles with cryptic symbols he could not decipher.
I survived the Psychic Wars… just to end up here?
The leader gazed at Brad with eyes of obsidian, and Brad made a mistake of making eye contact with him.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, quite shaken by the sight.
“The flames — they are burnin’ for you.” As if on command, the cloaked figures held up their candles, gesturing toward him.
Brad didn’t know what else to say. “Yes… sir.”
Every one of these shadowy figures turned to look at him. Some had eyes of ruby red, while others had eyes that were cold, electric blue. Brad looked straight ahead, careful not to waver in their presence.
“We are not your enemies,” they said in unison. “But whether you are a friend to us is to be determined — not by fate but by your choice.”
“Understood,” Brad said curtly.
The leader spoke again, “You are here because you wish to be redeemed. The wars have left your mind and spirit fractured beyond repair — and though you possess some fragments of Extra Terrestrial Intelligence through various unconscious processes that occurred during the Psychic Wars, you are nothing but a shadow warrior, and I see clearly that you are a shadow of yourself.”
Holy shit. Intrusive much? It took all of his willpower to maintain a neutral expression.
“Will you go out into the world and redeem yourself — by proving that you are indeed deserving of a second chance?”
Brad knew what he wanted, but he didn’t know exactly what that would entail, especially in the presence of these enigmatic and terrifying beings with cryptic motives.
“Follow us. We will lead you through a stairway to the stars and you can see the glory for yourself.”
Brad followed behind them, still willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.
Suddenly, he felt as if his feet were being carried into the air. Everyone was levitating. The stairway started to move upward at a rapid pace, and soon, they found themselves among the stars.
The leader’s obsidian eyes glittered, and the words “the presence of another world” clicked.
Could this be the world for me?
“Wait here,” the leader commanded the rest of the figures.
“But you, follow me,” he motioned for Brad to come over.
After passing through the workshop of the telescopes — the same kinds that Brad once used for reading the minds of extraterrestrials — and the cemetery of a long-lost fallen angel, the leader halted once they entered a ghostly chamber, and closed the door behind him.
“You want vengeance. You want to live free from the burdens they’ve placed upon you. You dream of the day when your captors finally reap what they sow and are destroyed tenfold by the wounds they’ve inflicted upon countless innocent soldiers of the Psychic Wars. Poisoned mind against poisoned mind. Fractured spirit against fractured spirit. Fighting against each other on command, to their own demise, not realizing what they were fighting for.”
Brad grimaced as a surge of horrifying flashbacks flooded his mind. The innocent men he was forced to torture by the power of his thoughts alone. The way he set fire to a breathtaking alien ship named Godzilla, one of the amazing feats of engineering in the Universe, using nothing but telekenesis under the threat of death by his commander. A talent wasted on evil deeds. A gift he had was exploited and weaponized by those who possessed unlimited power over all beings and insatiable sadistic pleasure. How could he rebuild his life again? How could he ever recover from this?
He was nothing but a pawn in the Psychic games. Yet for all his subservience, they sentenced him to death anyway.
“Whatever it is you want from me… I’m in,” Brad hardened his gaze.
Though it was hard to see the figure’s face, Brad could sense a trace of a smile.
“Now read to me what you see on the wall.”
Brad saw nothing for a few minutes. Was this a test he had to pass before he could be granted full authority?
He closed his eyes and dug deep into his mind. Anger clouded his vision. He forced himself to focus.
He opened his eyes and saw blood-red letters slowly appear one by one, as if written by a force that existed within him and beyond simultaneously.
“I am the storm. Don’t turn your back on me, for I will deliver the final blow — not on you, but on every corrupted soul that you want to see begging for mercy. But you will not give it to them. You will be immortal, feared but revered by many, and even those at the top will tremble at the mere whisper of your name.”
Brad trembled, as the power of each word revitalized him and shook him awake.
More letters were etched in succession.
“You will feel the thunder but you will never shrink in shame. You will not fear Death Valley nights, for even the darkness will bow before you and dare not to disobey your command. You will see the force behind every shadow but fear nothing, and you will inflict wounds as you see fit — with your own madness to the method. It is our law. It is our decree. It is our choice to bestow upon you ancient powers that we have preserved and kept secret for centuries, waiting for the last king to arrive. And that last king is you. You have proven yourself worthy as the survivor of the Psychic Wars.”
He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was ghastly white, and the blood on the wall slowly dripped down to the floor — and the weight of every word he’d just recited morphed into a puddle.
The leader stared at him solemnly. “We have been waiting for you. The stars declare it so, and the orbits of every celestial sphere align with the sphere trapped in your very mind, the hidden source of your powers used for petty earthly purposes by men of greed. But no longer!”
“You will be known and widely recognized. Dancin’ in the ruins of a hollow life poorly lived. Laughing amidst the howling of conceited men who mock your name. You shall reign over death until the end of time itself — and even then, you will carry on.”
He handed Brad a black blade, and as soon as Brad secured it in his hands, he felt a surge of divine glory coursing through his veins.
“Don’t fear the Reaper,” were the last words Brad heard from the leader before he disintegrated.
And in that moment, he knew why.
He stared at his new reflection in the mirror and realized what he’d become.
Not a mystic guardian. Or a prophet. Or a reincarnated soothsayer. Or a warlord. Or anything he’d imagined.
He was initiated into a cult and twisted beyond all measure to the point where his special powers were no defense against that.
The hallway was filled with his piercing screams.
He was the Reaper.
And this time, there was nothing that could save him from himself.
Author’s note: It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these song title challenges and I miss it.
I didn’t do this in past stories, but this time, I bolded the song titles I used. I’ve also included a playlist with the songs in the order they appear in the story.