Kaijin

A short story I recently wrote for a writing contest on another community that I frequent. It may be a little confusing, so try not to get lost; read it carefully.

Moonlit Sky

What truly determines a man? The thought swept through his seemingly imaginative mind, but still no direct response. The question baffled him. He sat alone at a small, wooden table, located within a small, wooden structure. All alone. Always alone. Often times he would think about life, and how it would all differ if his talent was used accordingly. He was nameless, but his talent would soon be inevitable to all.

He lived nowhere, and nowhere knew he lived. Being alone gave this man pride, a reason to live. Why? To avoid the killing of millions of innocent civilians. At childbirth, his mother died while giving labor. She suffered from depression all her life, and she couldn’t handle the pain of childbirth, especially after the “father” got what he wanted and ran away. A rumor has it that she hid a knife in her Hospital bed, and slain herself. No true information was released through the Press.

The doctors thought the child wouldn’t make it, alive, but he did. It was a miracle to everybody. All of the doctors horded around the child, smiling, and gazing upon his presence. Unfortunately, this wasn’t an ordinary child. He possessed a talent. He raised his tiny arms straight up, into the air. Then, both of his hazel green eyeballs changed to crimson red – a fiery color – with silver streaks. All of the surrounding doctors stepped backward, with a bewildered look upon their faces.

Soon, the walls began to shake. Objects were falling from the walls, and the lights in the ceiling fell down, just before the entire structure did. Large, thick boards fell to the floor, crushing everybody in the Hospital. Except one. Him. It was a full moon that night, but it wasn’t an ordinary grayish white. It was crimson red with silver streaks – just like the child’s eyeballs. The moon began a faint glow, spreading wider and wider, until a large white flash covered the entire night sky. Hundreds of meteorites – of all sizes – descended from the heavens, falling to the terrain.

The child’s eyeballs slowly faded back to a hazel green, and he laid his hands on his lap. A devilish grin came upon his face, as more and more meteorites fell, causing destruction to the small town. He continued to smile until the meteorites ceased to fall. Nearly three minutes later, the moon returned to its usual grayish white, and filled the sky. The ground, however, was flame-ridden. The child closed his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

Now, twenty-two years later, whenever he thinks back on the event, he cries. He vaguely remembers another man – a human civilian – who noticed him lying in the blaze, and how this man rescued from; saved his life. However, he often times wonders how this human could have survived the fiery blaze. Until now. Sitting alone in his small, wooden structure, he came up with a theory. It went: “life is a privilege, not a right. To live, we must truly believe in ourselves.” The theory had all ready been applied to him, but he figures that the human who rescued him shared similar traits. He needed to find out.

He exited the structure, and gazed upon the desert terrain; it hadn’t changed in six years. He followed a narrow trail that led into town, for about two hours, until he finally reached the town. It never was rebuilt, it remains a burnt-out, lifeless whole. He approached the location where the Hospital once was. Glancing around, he found no sense of other life. Until a man approached him from behind.

“How nice it is to see you again, Khlar.” He said, approaching.
“Khlar?”
“It is your name, son. I should know, I named you.”
“You’re my father? I should be surprised to be in your presence, but it could solve everything. I want you to explain to me what happened here, twenty-two years ago.”
“Well, son, I cannot explain anything. You must decide the fate for yourself.”
“I do not understand.”
“That is too bad.” The man disappeared into the darkness.

A force entered Khlar’s body, overpowering him. It raised his hands out directly in front of him. His eyeballs changed to crimson red, with silver streaks. The moon began the change, as well. A faint glow spread from it, growing wider and wider. Immediately before the moon immersed the flash of light, Khlar gained a little control over his body. He jerked his face down to the ground, but it was too late. The flash immersed from the moon, and one large meteorite fell, directly above Khlar.

He wanted to move away, but it was no use. He had only a limited control over his body, and the meteorite was at least half a mile wide. It was all about to end for Khlar that evening. But, it wasn’t the meteorite that would kill him, it would be the pain of his father’s reassurance about fate. Fate was supposed to be on Khlar’s side, but his father reversed the spell. The belief. Life was no more a belief, but a mere reality. It was out of Khlar’s power to survive.

Suddenly, the blaze vanished, in midair. Khlar had been ducking down, with his arms over his head. He noticed the noise ceased, so he slowly stood up. It was dark. The moon was grayish white, and it lit up the sky. His father approached him, reached out, and offered to shake his son’s hand. Khlar accepted.

“You’ve done it, son. You’ve freed us from the curse of destruction.”
“How?”
“By accepting life for what it is…reality. We shouldn’t be superhuman. We shouldn’t have the power to control lives. We should be humans. We’re now free to do as we please. We no longer have to be alone. We can be together.”
Khlar gave his father a hug, and said, “I love you, father.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Khlar asked, confused.
“You see, I made a promise to your mother before she committed suicide – which was all planned, by the way. It was planned to cure you. I promised that, after you were cured, I would be with you until the end of time. I cannot keep this promise.”
“Why not, father?”
“Because…”

The man fell to the ground. Khlar kneeled beside his lifeless father, and began to think, once more, about life. He could only make assumptions, but assumed his father used all of his strength and will to overpower – and rescue – his son. Even at the cost of his own life. It proved that he loved his son, after all. Suddenly, the answer to Khlar’s thoughts came to him. What truly determines a man? A man chooses which battles to fight and knows which aren't meant to be won.

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