Cosmic Peril | By: Kahn Tanaz Hightower | | Category: Short Story - Adventure Bookmark and Share

Cosmic Peril

The gargantuan ship was getting ready to launch, tilting towards the opening hatch from 

its angled position. With the misaligned, incongruent orientation of the internal door plates, 

Vinnie and Matthew were both able to climb into the cockpit subtly, fully determined to 

neutralize the flight system. To their unexpected surprise, a Hyper Beast awaited them. He 

immediately knocked Matthew across the face with a heavy hammer, which Vinnie instantly 

recognized from symbols witnessed in previous travels. This beast possessed nearly 

insurmountable strength, as it took spectacular skill to wield this devastating device. Though in 

agony, Matthew was also impressed that he could wield the Mallet of Malice. As Vinnie ducked 

in the Beast’s attempt to rid both threats, he accidentally initialized the launch engine button. An 

overhead timer suddenly activated conjunctively with Matthew’s shriek. It displayed a dreadful 

countdown set to 2:00.

“Tell me how to disable it!” Vinnie growled, as the timer began to fulfill its unpleasant duty. 

 “No!” The beast growled. “The Finisher’s wishes will be fulfilled, with or without your 


“Then I’ll do it myself!” Matthew screeched, clubbing him with the hilt of his sword, which 

caused him to pass out. 

“It’s our duty to stop this ship!” He alerted Vinnie, 1 minute 30 seconds left.

“It is too late for that. We have to get out of here!” Vinnie, blinded in a panic unbecoming of his 

character, attempted to open the door. 

“Please move away from the doors!” The software demanded.

Desperate, Matthew banged the door with his unseasoned fists. Realizing the path of his 

feeble attempt, he tried cutting a hole through the door with his green Electro Sword. 

“It’s made of reinforced titanium alloy! It’s indestructible! We’re in trouble.” Matthew gulped. 

One minute. Scrambling, he howled, “Any ideas?!” 

“Our only option is to resume our computational operation. There must be some cryptogram 

embedded in the software that can disable the ship!” Vinnie determined. 30 seconds. 

The young men both hammered away at the protruding keys linked with the interface, to 

no avail. Vinnie’s master technician status could not undo this issue. Within the last 15 seconds, 

realizing all possible attempts at escape had been exhausted, they decided to strap themselves in 

for the ride, as the rocket’s tremendous external thrust resonated throughout their bodies. 

Obtaining courageousness, Matthew gazed out of the left window, watching as they  

launched out of the hatch and away from leaving the densely wooded land. The city in the 

distance was as a golden speck. In front of him lied a dark canvas with yellow clusters scattered 

upon it. Vinnie fainted, utterly paralyzed with fear. Matthew continued to observe as the 

curvature of the earth manifested. They passed by the moon and the planets, protected from the 

sun’s radiation only by five reinforced layers of glass as the intrepid journey continued.

traveling at 500,000 miles per hour. The daunting stars seemingly zipped by as darkness

encompassed darkness. 

Once the ship lightly touched down on a foreign planet, inquisitors were dispatched 

by the planet’s ruler to investigate the unusual occurrence, being a disturbance to the ongoing 

festivities. Partially unconscious due to a lack of food, Vinnie and Matthew loosened their 

seatbelts which aggressively fastened them to the backs of their seats. It was a miracle that 

they had survived with only the water they had strapped to their chest. Once they were free of 

these protective cords, they stumbled to the exit hatch. This simple door offered them a sense of 

uncertainty with a touch of hope, and a bitter reminder of their struggle to escape. Eventually, 

they were able to open it by deducting an algorithm to unlock it. Unfortunately for the 

investigators, they had failed in properly locating the location of the ship hatch as it crushed 

them with its outwards swing. 

Despite this victory, the strange breath of unfamiliar air was enough to cause the two 

heroic teenagers to pass out. A secondary group was also sent, as the Space Tyrant sensed the

possibility of failure within the less experienced first batch. These quickly gathered and drug 

them into their jeep. 

“Strangers have arrived. Bring them before me.” The Tyrant requested. “What are your names.?”

“Vi-“ Matthew nudged him.

“He’s Viboch, and I am Mataq.” He said, interrupting Vinnie. 

“Hmm… ahh. Viboch and Maraq, hmm. Strangers from another world, huh? In my 

Rulership, it has occurred all too often. Challengers desiring to usurp my throne and authority.” 

He said through his helmet, providing them slop.

“No sir.” Vinnie spoke. 

“Take the one with the glasses to the Blues. Mataq will be reserved for the Reds. What a fate 

that awaits you. Well, glad I’m not you!” The Tyrant taunted. 

While Mataq focused on deciphering this seemingly twisted saying, they 

were led off in chains to their respective captivities like beasts, and separated indefinitely. 

The Space Tyrant, though not curious of them, decided to appoint two guards 

to keep a watchful eye over them. He perceived an energy in them he had not sensed for 

over a decade. Could they be earthlings? The thought festered in his armor, until he 

dismissed it as ludicrous. Travel from Earth, he thought, could only be performed 

once, by him, the ruler. 

Five years later, The Tyrant meditated within the same spot he had upon the strangers’ 

arrival. He was well pleased to hear of Mataq’s turn into a brute beast, a mud monster. Yet 

Viboch’s development scared him immensely, for he was now celestial and had learned to unlock 

the ways of the heavens, a power greater than himself. Surely he’d pose a threat to his rule, once 

he sought to lift himself out of the condition placed upon him. The Space Tyrant, staring out the 

window of his deteriorating castle, pondered arduously. His dreadful armor could no longer 

protect him. Overseeing the city, then facing the canister of rocket fuel he had salvaged all those 

years ago, he concluded that the battle that would determine the fate of his reign drew closer with 

each passing millisecond, approaching the day of the fall of his crown. 


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