Progressive Writing Exercise #11: Writing Your Ending

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You run as fast as your legs will carry, knowing it will never be enough. But Bergiere is already on the escape transport, just ahead of you, his gun firing at the lab experiments behind you. The creatures rapidly close the distance and your legs wobble fiercely forward from overuse. How long have i been running, you ask your self. It has been too long and you cannot stop now. You are almost there.

A five meter crevice is between you and safety. You know the experiments could jump it easily but something about an experimental force field designed to keep them out of the rest of the universe should make it impossible for them to cross. You look up, your legs running on desperate steam and hope, to see that Bergiere has stopped firing at the chasing creatures teeming with volatile intent and veracious appetites. His expression is calculating, grim, and sorrowful. “NO!!!” you shout. But it is too late. You watch as Bergiere backs up into the transport, shadows obscurring him from view. You leap holding nothing more than faith in your heart.

You land with a roll. Behind you the triumphant zapping and crackling of the forcefield pings over and over as the lab experiments crash into the energy barrier. You thank whatever forces listening that the Zels’ technology held up to design.

You get to your feet and watch as the transport engines warm to a vibrant carrot-orange. “Hey,” you shout, “what are you doing? They can’t get us.” The creatures continue their attempt to break through the invisible barrier, with no evidence of success.

“Bergiere, stop!” you shout. Your heart is racing at an unholy pace and your entire body hurts. The transport engines turn red hot as it is lifted skyward, ignited by cowardice and rocket fuel. You are stuned at how Bergiere is acting. The experiments are trapped behind an impenetrable field of energy. Why would Bergiere leave you behind, you ask yourself.

Just then a rumbling like that of thunder and rage and a god’s wraith echoes in the landing bay. For a brief moment you think the transport may be malfunctioning and you hope it explodes, taking Bergiere with it.

But you know better. You turn to see what Bergiere must have: the mother of all gods and monsters lunging forward toward the energy barrier. The master experiment crashes into the nothingness that has kept the smaller ones from spreading like locust into the known universe, and the field shatters without resistance. The giant charges pass you, their aim the fleeing pilot and transport. You fall to your knees as five experiments surround you.

Their snouts drool and you swear that they smile. More, they in unison flash a ghastly grin with even more grim intent. You close your eyes, refusing to let tears flow. As you open them back up, you look pass the encroaching experiments, and you watch as the master experiment tackles the transport. A prayer, or what could pass as one, passes from thought to your lips, “good riddens asshole!”

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