Missing Score - Part One

Missing Score - Part One

Part One
...I want to forget.
"Ethan!"
To forget everything.
"I know Emmerette, I know! It's right behind us!"
That's impossible. Since my mom died last year, I knew...
"Don't let it get you! For God's sake don't let it get you!"
I knew I couldn't let it come to this. It was time...
He turned around, firing his weapon, a large blast coming from it.
...Time for a change.

Ethen sighed, wiping his brow. He looked at the mass of purple organs, spewed across the ground. A hand came on his shoulder, as he turned to see Emmerette, smiling at him proudly. "Good job Ethan, you managed to take it down."

"Yeah..." He sighed, turning to her. "But I fear that's only the beginning. More will come." He started to walk away. "We should return to the base..."

Emmerette nodded, following behind him, holding a rapier in her hand. "It'll never end..."

He nodded, sighing heavily. "True. The world has gone to hell..."

"Hasn't it always been though?" She shook her head. "I can't really remember when it wasn't, I mean..."

"Mom used to speak of times when it wasn't." Ethan said, looking off. "Times when the world was lovely, where trees and water weren't that scarce...a time when the world wasn't in ruins..." He turned to her. "Emmerette, I want to end this. I want to stop it before it begins. Stop it at the source..."

She raised an eyebrow, scratching her head. "You're not making any sense Ethan. What do you mean?"

Ethan held his hand up, a sign for her to be quite, as his large ears rose up. "...Shit, it's a swarm..."

Emmerette nodded, and began to run. "We gotta hurry then. We won't be able to fight them all off by ourselves!"

Ethan nodded in agreement, and started to run too, his tail dangling in the wind. He began to speed up, as the buzzing became louder, not wanting to have to go against a swarm of the damn things. They stopped at what appeared to be a wasteland, then stomped on the ground, a passageway opening up. "Get in here Emmerette, hurry!" He jumped in, tumbling down the staircase, as Emmerette followed, shutting the door behind her. The two ducked down low, within a group of several other people, covering their ears. The loud buzzing sound rustled over them, and quickly subsided; the swarm moved rather fast.

Everyone got up, sighing in relief. You could hear them chattering, mostly saying things like "That was a close call" or "They almost found us that time." Ethan sighed, walking over to an older man, who appeared to be in his early thirties.

"Thank god, they didn't see you." He said, adjusting his glasses.

"It was a close call," Ethan started. "We had to take one down."

The man dropped what he was doing, which appeared to be polishing the tip of a weapon, and grabbed onto Ethan's shoulders. "You were close enough to the hive to be spotted?!" He asked, shaking the boy a little.

He shook his head, shivvering slightly. "No! No, that one was a stray."

"Good..." The man sighed, picking up his weapon. "You stay the hell away from that hive lad. Your parents would both turn over in their graves if you died like that."

Ethan nodded, sighing lightly. "I know, I know. I told you, I didn't go near it."

He pointed to him, waving a finger. "And you best keep it that way Ethan. As your guardian, I can't allow you to go off doing crazy shit like that." He rubbed his head, ruffling his hair. "Now, you...you go off to your room. No wanderin' around tonight, especially when the swarm might still be other there."

Ethan nodded, walking up to one of a few doors, opening it. "I won't uncle, I wont." He shut the door behind him.

The man kept to his work, adjusting his glasses. "That boy..."

Ethan walked to his room, but paused, looking to his right. He saw the door to a locked room; one his mother often spent most of her time in. Although the lock was rusty, and easy to take off, he had decided not to go in, as it was her sanctuary and she never had permitted him to enter while she was alive. He walked past it, opening the door to his room, and resting on his bed.

Ethan's room was in shambles. There were cracks in the wall, which was made of nothing buy solidified, dried up dirt to begin with. There were no carpets; the ground was made out of concrete. Ther room itself was virtuallt empty, aside from some clothing on the floor, most of which looked abused, and his bed. It appeared to have nice sheets, nicer than anything else in the room. at most they had some dirt on them, but otherwise they were pretty good sheets. His pillow howver, was flat, as if there was almost no more cushioning in it at all.

He rolled over, eying a doll on his bed. It was a puppy plush, though it was missing its left eye, and the stuffing was dangling off of its right hind leg. He picked it up, then looked out his door, which he hadn't closed. "Well, Leon...think I should go in?..." The doll's head leaned to the side, and he sighed lightly, seeming to flashback.

...

"This was a gift." A woman said, handing the doll plush to a baby. "A gift from my first love." She smiled, stroking the infant's ear. "Keep it with you, and give it to your first love too. I'm sure she...or he, heaven forbid...would really appreciate it." She giggled lightly. "I mean, I know I did..."

...

That was Ethan's earliest memory, though he couldn't remember how old he was when it had happened. He held the plush in his hands, getting up, and walking out the door. He looked to his left, to the sealed door, then to the lock. He sighed, grasping it and pulling, prying it off with ease. My uncle won't be very happy, but...He opened the door, looking in.

He wasn't that surprised, really. There were two tables. One in the center of the room, and a smaller one in the back, left hand corner. There were odd devices all over the place, which again didn't surprise him. After all, this was his father's little hidout before mom began going in. Naturally, he had no idea what any of the devices did, but he didn't care much either. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he had expected to see more firearms, since his mother was into that sort of thing. There was also an odd chest on the right of the room, not in a corner. He ignored it, looking at the main table, that was covered in papers. He had mostly found blueprints for various machines, though having been uneducated, most of the words were complex and out of his range of understanding. He was no fool; he just didn't grasp the terminology.

Ethan looked through the papers, in hopes of finding someway to end it. Someway to restore the world to as it was before. The way his mother had described it. He shuffled the papers, eyeing each one. A design for an advanced, lighter A-Cannon. A tool to increase the time it took to dig a shelter. He could tell which parent had written about which devices, since both had different handwriting; his mother's was rather sloppy compared to his father's, though still legible. He became more frustraded the more he searched, eventually just throwing all the papers on the floor, resting his head on the table.

He turned his head to Leon, who he had rested on the the other side of the table. The dog's right front leg was leaning in one direction, while the rest was off to a different direction. Ethan stood up, about to pick the plush up, but he paused, noticing the dog was pointing to something engraved on the table. "Chest..." He looked foreward, eyeing the chest in front of him. "..."

Ethan stood up, walking over to the chest. He brushed off the dust; it hadn't been touched in several years. He opened the chest, finding an odd device, some blueprints, and what seemed to be a diary inside. He went right for the little book, the lock already opened, turning the page. He reckognized the writing as his father's, and began to read...

March 13th
I don't know much about dimensional tears. My wife had tried to explain them to me time and time again, but I never could grasp it. I'm more into mechanics than physics, really. Still, I've beem working on a device to identify dimensional tears, based on what little knowledge I have. I do love a challenge, afterall.

March 18th
The doctor says we could expect the baby anyday now, and he believes it's going to be a boy. A son would be nice. Plus a baby is good to get Jeanie off my back while I do my research.

March 24th
I've managed to complete the blueprints. Constructing it will be a bit more of a problem, since supplies are so scarce in this day and age. I plan on going out today, to search for remains of old ores and metal objects. That's the only way I'll be able to build it.

Ethan skimmed ahead; he wasn't all too interested on how the divice was made, but rather what his father was like while he was alive. He began reading two years ahead, around the time his father had finished the device.

May 12th
I finally completed the construction. Unfortunately the hoards of darkflies are growing more abundant, so testing my device would be almost impossible. In addition, I would need Jeanie's assistance, and she's too busy taking care of little Ethan. I myself would be devistated if either one were out of my life. Ethan is just learning to talk in complete sentences, and I've never been more excited.

"Heh..."

May 20th
My time is coming. Soon they're going to draft me for the darkfly patrol. I know it. Thousands of us are dying everyday, and it worries me to know end. They've already started drafting men from our station. As much as I'd rather not fight. As much as I wanna stay here and continue my work, I finally have a reason to fight. If I were to be drafted right now, I would have no regrets...

May 28th
It was just as I feared; I am already drafted. I've been trying to evade it, but it seems I can no longer. In but three days, I'll be out of here. I won't be taking this diary with me, for I'd much rather keep it as an article of my research, instead of my life. In addition, if I were to die, the odds of it getting destroyed out there would be great.

May 31st
Well, this will be my last entry, for the time being. I pray I won't be out there too long; just until the swarm migrates. If however, I don't return, I ask that no one continues my research. This was will have been my final project, and as my final project, I don't want anyone to finish it but me...

"...not to worry though...I-I'll probably be back...in no time..." Ethan squinted, slamming the book back into the chest. He ran off, leaving his plush behind, and slamming the door. He ran back to his room, jumping onto his bed. He shut his eyes immediatly, trying not to cry, quickly falling asleep.