Infin(ite)ration: A short story—one chapter at a time. Chapter 4.

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Before you start this, if you haven't read the preface, it's here. https://steemit.com/writing/@iamscifi/infin-ite-ration-a-short-story-one-chapter-at-a-time

Chapter 4: Terror-cotta Army

Drawing inspiration from her brave granddaughter, Grams—or Lili, to anyone outside the family—comes from behind, taking hold of her son & his better half, pulling them away from this madness, back to the relative safety of Hughie. During those first couple dozen steps, Sadie’s remains are heard making a smaller set of creaks & snaps, culminating in the bursting of a molten bubble of flesh—a little girl, no more. Gram’s brave distraction.

Not a time for internal emotional upheaval, Lili sends a message to her better-half. Distant, barely audible cackling comes from a triplet of nightmarish throats. Lili’s message returns as unsent. Her mind kicks into overdrive. All communication attempts return unsent—even simple instructions to Hughie. The continuing laughter burns Lili into rigid resolution. Slowing her gate, Lili approaches the nearest med-droid.

Lili reveals her plan as she activates the med-droid. “All communication is kaput because of those phallic assholes that stole our family. The two of you need to set Hughie to obliterate all traces of this care facility, & then meet me at the capitol building. Misha, you know where your dad’s office is, correct?”

Nodding, Misha helps his mother into the med-droid’s pod. He clasps her hand, knowing it might be for the last time.

The dwindling family ignores distant screaming. Seconds later, another grinding pop of bone & flesh.

Hughie opens an entryway to the only family the house knows. “Unread message from—error, unknown region. Playing messa…”

Misha rushes in, ready to blow some shit up. “Not now, Hughie. Remove safeties. After we’re a safe distance away, climb atop the care facility, & then shut down all superconductors.”

Hughie stores the commands. “I really think you should listen to the message before that mess deletes it.”

“Fine, play it.”

The voice sounds utterly unfamiliar. “To whom it may concern: Sorry for the awkward start, but we’re not sure who this message will reach. Not to be overly dramatic, but—Beware the Cuttlefuckers! They aren’t as pleasant as they sound. They will rape & kill all life, claiming your reality as theirs. They’ve done this to hundreds of other realities. I know you have little reason to believe us, but know that we’ve tussled with them since before time as you understand it. We...”

“Pause.” Shock stops Misha from uttering anything but.

“Cuttlefucker sounds pleasant?” Rashel breaks out into mad, hysterical laughter. Mental compartments stay compartmentalized for only so long.

Misha pulls his better-half into him.

Rashel’s madly hilarious hysteria evolves to tiny globules of convulsions & despair.

Misha mirrors her emotions with his own stream of liquid agony.

Her father’s sobering words resound through Rashel’s mind. ‘A trail of tears won’t mend the river. Cry when you can, push through when you can’t.’ Rashel releases her grip on her better half. “Time to push. My Mish-Mush, are you ready to push through?”

Misha wipes away his emotions. “Hughie, continue.”

“We have a plan to save as many as we can—using the same tear in reality you created. I know, harrowing. It’s all we have. Try to bring as much of your reality through as possible. Once you leave, you’re never going back—& for the sake of all that is sacred, destroy the tech that created that tear. As of now, the Cuttlefuckers must wait for a reality to die before they’re able to happen upon their next omnicide. With this tech available to the Cuttlefuckers, all realities are doomed.”

The pair stare hard at one another as the alien drones on with the plan’s finer details. A selfish decision is made.

Setting Hughie to impact with the care facility, the pair gallop toward Rafe’s lab. Finding the best radiation protection they can, they bundle up—RAD-resistant & ready to leave the only reality they know.

Unable to feel anything beyond his own suit, Misha grasps Rashel as if for the last time. “I wish we had time for one more Infiniration. Only forever allows me enough time to express my love for you.”

Rashel melts into Misha’s armored arms. “We’ll make more on the other end of our forty-three percent survival rating.”

Clasping one another, with no signs of letting go, the couple tips headlong into likely oblivion. Reality instantly seizes.

Left alone with suicidal instructions, Hughie’s last thought finds the house hoping to meet with its old friend, Rafe.

May their carbon forever mingle.