[TLH] McKay, Naval Intelligence Officer

[soviet]

McKay, A TLH Short Story.
[EPISODE 1] - HOW TO ACCEPT FALSEHOODS
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The man stood uneasily upon the bridge, eyes tunnelled on the horizon in the distance of which - might he not have known at the time - lay in ruins and seldom darkness for its luminosity extinguished. A slight degree to the left brings the sun into view, an atmospheric disturbance that contrasted starkly to the gloomy mixture adjacent, though all seemed well in his eyes. Bringing the binoculars close by, the man thereby addressed himself to the eager-eyed souls standing around their stations.

“I see nothing.” Spoke the figure with a voice like a foghorn, more adenoidal than anything, the eagerness from their perches failed and sunk into more of desperation for answers than anything. “But, Captain-” a hoarse voice chirped up from the crowd, far away tucked in the corner, “We’ve yet to see anything in the hour we’ve travelled the coast, a lack of communications…” The voice trickled off into the distance. The fact was true, indeed. Not a single message had been sent to them, neither that of a ‘Hello.’ or a distress call, it was eerily silent, for one it was a problematic situation to be in as their route had found its end near the Gulf of Panama. The bridge in itself now fell amidst a blanket of silence itself, the Captain now pacing to and from an arch-way with their eyes pressed firm onto the looks of the sky, which congealed itself into a murky blackness that stirred a swirling array of blue lights- a storm, that somehow lacked any length to it to blot out the sun. A portal storm at that, one of which found its nesting place above their very own, why it was there- he wasn’t certain, though the occasional crack of thunder here and there presented an obvious and expanding threat to the crew. It was mere moments before it glistened to its namesake. If anything - due to the unluckiness of the bridge crew - it’d suck them away into somewhere possibly better. Though, this revelation turned out to be not quite the request they wanted. A light, brighter than the sun, double if not treble, set lay on the sky before disappearing in mere moments, the storm dissipating into a singular spot, then expanding yet again in a rhythmic fashion for a few seconds straight, until it lay open in one spot. It was silent. Too silent. Ridiculously silent. The bridge crew found themselves attached firm to emergency lines, hooked onto the railings, The captain now attached to their chair with a bolted-upright position with a front-seat view of the carnage about to give way. They hadn’t a clue what it was, how could they? They’d seen storms before no doubt, portal storms too, but one with intensity and ferocity as this one was a sight that left the common dweller agape and extinguished for any palpable words to describe it. Though within a moments notice, the sky found itself echoing with disturbing horns and shrills, blackness pouring from every opening there was, it was almost like a hive, unending and absolutely blackening, it made the clouds look like child's play, the sun absolutely smothered in the ridiculous amount of ants in their colonies. It was almost like an act of god, something so unearthly that it’d take a bizarre mad man or drunken preacher to say such things, though the crew knew something.

God. A God is defined by its creation of all things, evil and good. Though, evil is usually an embodiment of a miscalculation somewhere, as evident in the existence of the Devil. A miscalculation somewhere was made to create this evil that presented itself in front of them, to be Atheist in this moment was to be almost victorious in the knowledge that your believe presented itself in utmost certainty in defeating your opposing religion mad man.

Creating a world-ending, catastrophic scenario.
Lacking any evidence or claims from the church of man.

Ergo,

God doesn’t exist.

The Captain, an Atheist in himself, found themself now close to the Foremast, the ship a burning mass before their eyes. The bridge, now a former shell of what it once was, lay in ruin as a pile of disposable ash to an ash-tray, the crew lost at sea or perhaps lucky to see the light of death, anti-climactic for the circumstance. Though he found himself in a bigger predicament than them, face-front with a rather vile, humanoid-shaped alien with the intent that signalled possible danger - though to not kid himself, he knew the objective full and thorough. To his sides, he found emptiness, but the left seemed more occupied, a life raft found loose against the hull of the Destroyer, a plethora of empty ammunition casings lay astray across the deck, along with pitching blackness in certain locations - The ship was sinking, and fast. It was the incoming danger that found the Captain almost immediately flung upon the life raft, furiously scratching away at the rope that kept it dangling. A slice after another found no further progression, the sky now covered with these crafts, further, a-sea lay the wrecks of their fellowships and associates, they put up a worthy battle, though he couldn’t say the same for his crew, who found themselves too occupied signalling for land assistance to bother loading any form of defensive nay-way against the opposition. Whatever it was on the bridge had lost itself in the ensuing battle, leaving the captain free to pry himself and the raft free of the hull, emitting a thunderous thud as they collided with the waves. The Destroyer now lay half-sunken with the many men of its crew swimming around in desperation for their lives, a panic almost overcame the Captain, if it were not for the immediacy that was the mercy that those who died were retrieving. As a matter of fact, he was almost angry at whatever ‘God’ decided to cause the devastation, for being so kind to his compatriots but not himself, to leave him asunder from them and to wander alone.

It took little more than five minutes to eradicate their fleet.
And thirty seconds to destroy a mans life.

[EPISODE 2] - UNDERSTANDING FATE
-TBA-​