Playground of the Spheres

on November 12, 2010 in Horror

The day came when there were no more strange lights in the night sky, no more mutilations, and no more disappearances. The people of that small rural community rejoiced, although they always felt a sense of unease in not knowing why the phenomena had happened in the first place and why they had, with just as little warning, stopped. Unless they knew that, it seemed as though there was no way they could be sure that the ordeal was truly over, that it wouldn’t all begin again just as suddenly as before.

This was why so many people spent the rest of their lives trying to decipher the single, garbled broadcast that had been intercepted on the night the lights had vanished from the sky. They believed that knowing what those alien words meant, what that inhuman voice was saying, would bring them some peace of mind, some sense of closure.

The meaning of the broadcast was never deciphered, of course. It would be impossible to translate a single snippet of an unknown language with nothing to reference or compare it against but itself. And this was probably for the best, because the simple townsfolk would not likely have found much comfort in knowing the truth.

“No! I won’t get you any more. You barely play with the ones that you have. Well, is it my fault you can’t take better care of them? That’s it, I’m turning this thing around right now…”

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