The No-Room

[Nyarlathotep]

A little something I threw together in about a 45 minutes. Hope it's up to snuff.

 

 

 

The death of a universe. Something which one would have never thought to become a mundane occurrence. But here we are, at the edge of known space, watching a miniature black hole pump pure matter into a pocket dimension. Now we're placing an infinitesimal amount of anti-matter within the minuscule universe. As the two building blocks of existence come together, the laws of physics begin to bend. Now they break. Small twists in space-time become tears. The infant reality folds in on itself and simple ceases to exist.

 

Of course none of this was visible by the naked eye. Professor Webb and I were hunched over a surprisingly small display screen in the makeshift research lab of the My Final Heaven. New, undefinable emissions registered on screen as the pocket dimension and the black hole collapsed. Webb rubbed his eyes and sighed with relief. This was our 7th attempt. Finally we had acquired what we came here for: raw data from a planar collapse.

 

We had been aboard this military ship for 14 months now, much to the annoyance of the crew, preforming our experiments. The university had used what little political clout it still retained from it's hayday to get this ship to drag us out to deep space. And of course, the crew was about to take it's first shore leave in 3 years...which we put a stop to. This made us quite unpopular.

 

I stood up straight and cracked my neck. I pulled out my pack of smokes and went to light one. Before I even had the cancer stick to my lips I remembered that this entire ship was a Class B vessel, meaning that it didnt have an atmosphere filter. All the air was recycled without purification. This of course meant that I couldnt smoke and that we had been breathing the same air for 14 months straight. Military budget cuts at their finest.

 

Webb punched a few keys, logged off the system and rose from his chair. He smirked at me as I replaced my cigarettes in defeat. "I feel your pain bud." He stretched his arms and yawned. "I'm going up to the bridge to give the captain the final report. He could easily read the report I just sent to his office, but he's a stickler for archaic military protocol. So I'm off. See you later." Before I had a chance to respond, he walked out. "Ok, so I guess I'll just go to bed then." I said to no one. My words hung in air as I stood, listening to the hum of the ship. I turned and looked out the small window to my right. Space looked as it always did, black with points of light. No sign of the act of annihilation we had committed.

[Wyvern]

Nyarlathotep flips through a Class B Archaic Protocol Brochure as he awaits the arrival of the Elder of Initiates, smirking at the latest shades of silver space helmet design and pausing at a page that features a half-off coupon for air filtration devices. He places a finger on the page and reaches for his pad and pen, only to notice that the Office window has been opened in the course of his brochure browse. The curious applicant sets down his writing utensil and brochure for a moment and slowly approaches the window, tredding over a significant lump in the thick wads of paperwork covering the floor as he does so. He freezes up at the sound of a reptilian whimper, and manages to catch his balance as the papers under his feet start undergoing a tectonic shift. Nyarlathotep steps to the side just as a stinger surfaces from the pile of paperwork, followed by a set of horns and a scaly red snout.

 

"Ssssorry for the slight delay, got a lil' lost on my way through the window." Wyvern surfaces from the depths of the papers and shakes Nyarlathotep's hand , striking his best salesman grin. "Now, if you'll please be seated, it should jussst take me a moment to read through your app."

 

Wyvern snatches Nyarlathotep's application sheet from his cluttered desktop and scans it over twice. His face goes blank as memories of The Four Horsemen's concert-to-literally-end-all-concerts begin playing back through his mind, and he raises a claw to his chin contemplating the similarities and possible connections that My Final Heaven might have had to the apocolyptic event. Catering, perhaps...?

 

"Aaaaah, space." Wyvern grins and folds the story sheet, turning back towards Nyarlathoteps. "The finally profitable fronti- hey, what's that you're reading?"

 

Nyarlathotep looks up as Wyvern suddenly snatches the Class B Archaic Protocol Brochure from his hands. The reptilian Elder glances through the small booklet and twists his snout at the complicated terms for the various space gizmos found within, then grunts and tosses the brochure aside.

 

"That ssstuff's all way too cheap for you." Wyvern grins, then begins digging through a large stack of crumpled booze-stained brochures. "If you're going to be a pennite, you gotta learn how to order things with class... aside from things affiliated to that 'How to Avoid Wyvern Marketing Gimmicks 101' class, that is. Ah, here we go."

 

Wyvern tugs half a moldy cheese-scented brochure out of its spot at the center of the pile, and tosses it in Nyarlathotep's direction.

 

"Almost Dragonic Brand Asteroid Ring Savings Guide™?" Nyarlathotep glances at the tattered brochure curiously, smirking at the cheap aluminum rocket ship that graces its cover and taking it for a joke. He frowns, however, when he notices that the same aluminum is advertised in the savings guide as Almost Dragonic Brand Shiney Rocket Armor™ ('Shine the Safety Away'), which is adjacent to an add for Almost Dragonic Brand My Pet Asteroid Pebble™. His frown only deepens when he notices what's listed in the remains of the guide's air filtration section. "Leftover Almost Dragonic Brand Canned Perry-Air™?"

 

"Yeah, the two remainings cans are a little out-of-date, but at least you won't have to share'em with others around you!" Wyvern winks, then turns and quickly stamps Nyarlathotep's application ACCEPTED. "By the way, while you're figuring out what to invessst in, here's your application back. Enjoy."

 

;-)

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application story, Nyarlathotep. Welcome to the Mighty Pen! :-) I'm looking forward to reading more of your stories and to participating with you in various forms of collaborative writing, and hope that you find the Pen a friendly and welcoming community to share your writing with. Your good friend Whisky in Babylon has already been making a very positive impression here, and I hope that you'll find the Pen similarly engaging. Once again, welcome. :-)