Synopsis: A man ensnared in a massive conspiracy theory takes deadly action to uncover the true nature of the world’s overlords, with disastrous consequences.
Note: This story was fun and my first thriller genre. I did it in a diary like format for the NYC Midnight contest. Enjoy!
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To whomever is reading these scrawled characters, I welcome you. I, Ezekiel Adam Millar, am about to save the world. All I ask in return, dear stranger, is that you return this journal to my wife, Staci, when you are done. In the end, I do all of this for her and our children. She is the only judge and jury I care about.
Staci, my love, I hope you understand why I had to do this. If sane men do nothing, our lives and our children’s futures are forfeit. I cannot abide by that. I understand why they hunt me, day and night, with dogs and helicopters. My act was so heinous it shocks me still.
Part of me wishes I could’ve remained blissfully unaware of their presence. Had it not been for that so-called earthquake six months ago, I might have. Remember I told you I saw something weird? I knew if I tried to explain I’d sound insane, so I started my research.
My first thought was that it was a bomb or something, since we don’t get earthquakes in Kentucky. Then, what I saw on the TV shook me far more than the quake. It was their eyes, Staci. In that terrible moment, when they thought they might die, they became inhuman. Their pupils turned thin and skinny like daggers, while a membrane flicked horizontally across them; their lids closed vertically, multiple times. I must have looked a fool watching television while my house rocked and swayed, but I was frozen by horror. It was after that day I started my research online and connected the dots.
Dogs again! I listen to them day and night—barking, barking—desperately trying to locate their prey. Their efforts will fail, my dear. You know I’m Kentuckian to the bone. I know these woods better than any dog, human, or lizard. What I cannot understand is why these canines, man’s best friend for ten millennia, can’t discern human from Reptilian?
Staci, you remember when we went hiking after our honeymoon? That cave by Parker’s Bridge? That’s where I’m at! I staged a bunch of stuff here in preparation—generator, burner phone, some food—totally prepared. Only two more days and I will have exposed all of them.
This is such a lovely night. I wish you could be lying with me, Staci, and see these stars! As I lie here, gazing at the vast canopy of space, I can only wonder from which tiny light they descended from and if more are on the way this very moment. I will stop them or die trying!
Speaking of death, I hope you’re not buying the coverage the explosion is getting in the media. They claim that I’m crazy and dangerous ’cause I killed all those people at that TV station. Quite the contrary! I’m a sane man in an insane time. I confess I’m not an explosives guy. I didn’t mean to kill all those people (if they were real people). I was just trying to get that same reaction, that mortal fear, that the so-called earthquake caused. I miscalculated the number of explosives and had the position a bit too close. When I set off the bomb, I had hoped to get that reaction on videotape, but the broadcast went out immediately. Don’t these people have generators?
Anyway, since I couldn’t record their eyes changing, I have a new plan—no more bombs. In two days, I’m going to grab a couple of them and make them show their true form!
Oh, Staci, I miss our soft bed. Sleep was fleeting last night, given my bed of rock and dirt and the endless baying dogs that hunt me. Yet, my plan advances, unabated. I located the targets—two news reporters, David Smith-McFarlane and Melanie Scott. We’ve watched them before on Channel 8; never liked them. The consensus among the Ufologist Unite group is that McFarlane fits all the suspicious parameters—unnaturally tall, perfectly groomed, pale as hell, and from out of town. You really should read their stuff; seriously eye-opening! Anyway, these reporters are doing the news on Monday. Now I just need to find a cattle prodder.
Confession time, Staci—I stole a cattle prodder from Joe’s farm down on Lexington Avenue. I’ll return it after all this is over. I needed something powerful. You see, three things bring out the Reptilian’s proper form—fear, pain, and cold.
With all this time alone in the cave, I’ve had a lot of time to think. Why pick the small town of Burlington, Kentucky? Why would these Reptilians take an interest in this little town? Think about it, Staci. Wolf Creek! We’ve got that nuke plant kicking out all that power. Whatever they’re doing down there takes a lot of energy, and we need to get to the bottom of it. How do you think it lasted so long without any problems? Why wasn’t it the least bit damaged in the “earthquake?” Because they caused that tremor. The Ufologist Unite guys think they’re secretly digging an underground facility. Some have posted pictures, but people just continue to bury their heads. Someone must stand up and stop this before it’s too late.
Today’s the day! This day will be written into the history books as the beginning of global liberation from our overlords!
Staci, I got them! The plan worked! I pulled them right out of their car after leaving their station. I threw some hand ties on them and stole the dude’s car. Sure, I showed them my gun, but I wasn’t going to shoot them. Heck, I hear if you kill a Reptilian when it’s in human form, it stays that way until it starts decaying. Isn’t that amazing? I can’t believe how easy this was. The lizards must be sickly from all the cold weather we’ve been having because they didn’t put up much of a fight. That’s why they need the earth to get warmer.
Let me answer the big question on your mind—why are they here? Some think that they’ve come just to drink our blood and all that. Not me. I believe they trashed their home planet, and now they are trying to transform ours into theirs, gradually, so no one notices. They’ve controlled all our political parties and big companies for decades now, pushing the climate temperature higher and higher. Why else wouldn’t we fight global warming? Why else wouldn’t we have more nuclear, wind, solar, and geothermal power? Instead, we keep just shooting crap into the air. Why?
When the earth is warmer, that’s when they’ll bring the rest of them. Some say that’s what they’re building underground—vast caverns for the swarms of Reptilians to move into once they arrive en masse. Okay, the cattle prod is fully charged. It’s interrogation time. No delay, for the hounds are bound to be on my scent. I pray for strength! They look so human; I must ignore my very own eyes.
Bad news, honey. The large male died, which is curious since I only prodded him three…well, maybe five times. I’ve hit pigs on my Dad’s farm with way more voltage without so much as a grunt. He must have genuinely been ill, but how would I know? Worse, I failed in getting a good video. Yes, his eyes changed, but it was so quick my camera couldn’t catch it with enough resolution. I’m doing the best I can in this god-forsaken cave!
The female wouldn’t stop screaming, so I had to muzzle her. But on the positive side, after watching her fellow creature die, I only had to prod her once or twice and got all sorts of lizard action, even scales. Yet, when I look at the video, I realize it’s still insufficient–blurry with motion and low lighting. I need undeniable, incontrovertible proof. I need a crowd.
I have one more card up my sleeve—the cold. I’m going to take this salamander for a swim. That Kentucky ice water will pop those scales out like toast. Finally, it’s time for me to come home and be with you again! I’m down by Parker’s Bridge. I’m texting you (and a couple of the media outlets) my location. It’s go time!
8:14 am—Parker’s Bridge
There you are, my Staci–so beautiful! Has it only been a week? It feels like an eternity. Oh, how I wish you weren’t crying. It’s time to start the show!
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. Reptilians, go to hell, for I have captured one of your own! Media, when I take her into the river, train your cameras onto her skin and eyes. I guarantee you they will change into a horror you’ve seen only in your nightmares. It’s fleeting, so be aware!”
Dammit, here comes Sherriff Frank to play the hero.
“Zeke, this is Sheriff Frank, your old buddy. Remember me? I played horseshoes with you and your Dad when you were knee-high to a grasshopper!”
“Sheriff, can’t you see her lizard eyes?”
“Let the lady go, Zeke. She’s in shock. That’s why her eyes are all funny, son.”
“Shock? Her skin, Frank, look at it!”
“It’s blue from the cold, Zeke! You know that!”
Frank is an old man, but I can’t risk him stopping me. I jump, along with the lizard, who’s gone limp and heavy. My breath nearly stops when we hit the icy river. I pull myself and the lizard to the enormous rock in the middle of the stream. This is the moment!
“Behold your Reptilian overlord!” Zeke calls out.
I tear off her blouse, for there is no need for a demure lizard. Scales are coming out now. Wait, she passed out! Is this some sort of defense mechanism? Two splashes. Frank! Staci! I draw my gun, hoping not to use it.
Sherriff Frank yelled over the flowing river as he paddled towards the giant rock. “Don’t shoot me, young man! I can’t swim well, and I just wanna talk, okay?”
Staci, a strong swimmer, was first to the rock, pushing against the choppy waves.
Zeke embraced her. “Staci, I love you!”
“Zeke, you have to stop this, my love! You need help!”
“Look! The lizard bitch is already turning colors. It just takes a few moments. Once the world sees, we’ll be rid of them!”
Tears streamed down Staci’s face, mixing with the freezing river water. Her eyes dashed to the reporter, who the Sheriff was tending to.
“She’s turning blue from hypothermia. My God, Zeke, open your eyes!”
There goes Frank, trying to steal that lizard bitch.
I raise my gun. “Frank, stop! She cannot return to the hive!”
It won’t fire! Jammed! Frank spins around. A gunshot, then screaming; my voice and Staci’s combine over the rushing water. I’m blown off the rock, pain searing through my shoulder. I’m holding onto a branch that juts from the riverbed. Staci makes her way to me, her weeping face over mine. Then I see it.
“What did you say to me?” Zeke asked, suddenly terrified, peering into her eyes.
Her hands were on my face, freezing cold. Then it happened—Blink. Blink—her dragon eyelids slithered.
“Are you my Staci?”
“Zeke, baby, you’re going to make it,” she said, sobbing.
Her face flitters between human and lizard, eyelids flickered the wrong way, and a membrane now slow and thick travels across them. Then, I see them through my miasma of pain and cold—scales on her face, fading in and out. She’s struggling to keep her human form!
“You’re one of them? How baby, how can it be?”
I unjammed my pistol and pointed it to her forehead. I should end her, locking her in lizard form, and save the world. Weeping harder now, Staci cries out, a haunting sound both human and something else entirely.
“Oh Zeke, we’ve known each other since eighth grade. How can you do this? Put down the gun and come home with—”
Blink. Blink. In my moment of victory, it was I who had lost. What was the point of being right when all that I love was ripped from me? It would have been better to stay blind and happy than awake to this nightmare! I can’t believe how many people showed up to watch this, only to be disappointed. There must be hundreds of them! There are those foul dogs, staring at me, their vanquished prey. You never caught me, you bastards! I won’t remain here to become your playthings, or your Lizard masters. I choose the abyss! I choose death!
“Zeke, no!” Staci screamed into the cold Kentucky air as she watched her husband, father of her children, point the gun under his chin and pull the trigger.
Conspiracist and Bomber Commits Suicide to End Rampage
Oct 6th, Remington, Kentucky
The terror that started in Remington and spread throughout the state of Kentucky, capturing national attention, has ended.
Authorities remained one step behind Mr. Millar for over a week. Millar, who was active in survivalist groups and online conspiracies, believed that world governments and key positions in society were controlled by a cabal of alien lizard people. Evidence shows Millar set off the explosives at the WACT Channel 5 newsroom, killing twelve people and injuring ten, then disappearing, causing a massive manhunt. His abduction of the two news anchors from WABC Channel 8 News a week later shocked the nation.
Though his wife claims he had no history of mental illness, the earthquake earlier this year added to the stress of his recent unemployment, sending him “down a dark place that I couldn’t reach,” according to Mrs. Millar.
Police recovered a journal from Mr. Millar’s body, which lead the to the body of WABC News Anchor David Smith-McFarlane, dead in a cave from an apparent heart attack due to electrocution. At the scene police found a fully discharged cattle prod, a television with a video recorder, bomb-making equipment, and other survival gear.
Melanie Scott, the co-anchor, suffered a broken arm and numerous other injuries. Ms. Scott was treated for hypothermia, released, and remains on medical leave until further notice. The journal was given to his widow, who promptly returned it to the authorities. The journal was burned with Zeke’s body, and the ashes were scattered into the river upon which he died.
David Smith-McFarlane, 54, leaves behind a wife, three grown children, and a grandson. Services will be held in private. Ezekiel “Zeke” Millar, 35, leaves behind a father, mother, wife, and two children. Donations to the Lexington Institute for Mental Health are requested in lieu of flowers.