So, occasionally, I like to get on Reddit and find their writing prompts and post something interesting. Mainly, I like responding to the Writing Prompts ([WP]) with my own unique story. Today, I responded to the below prompt, story follows:
[WP] You are aboard the first FTL ship on its maiden voyage. Soon you will arrive at your destination.
Poseidon’s Trident, Passenger Log 51998702. January 17th, 2061
Dad thought it is pretty cool. Mom, of course, she was crying. I suppose it is one thing for her son to take flight on one of the orbital jets, but the first faster than light ship designed is something else altogether. I knew I’d never satiate my wanderlust on Earth. Who could? I mean with all that space out there, all of those planets.
NASA scientists found a planet in the Goldilocks zone, you know that sweet spot where a planet can support life. They call it PLE-B21. I am sure they think they were being clever or something, but somehow I don’t think the first real planet in the Goldilocks zone, that we can reach, is all that ordinary. This the first attempt humans have made for FTL flight, so they have us logging everything. We’re supposed to put these updates in pretty regular. I’ve never been good at that. So we’ll see how often I manage. Signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Passenger Log 51998702. March 22nd, 2061
Well, We’ve been gone for a couple of months now, but something strange seems to be happening. Most of us have mentioned it in passing, but no one is talking about it directly. It isn’t anything anyone can put their finger on directly. There is just this sort of elusive feeling that time is off. I heard Green say it was a distortion of the space-time continuum. He talks pretty big most of the time, I am not sure he knows what he’s saying any more than we understand it. If I have to hear about Einstein-Rosen bridges one more time I think I’ll scream. I’m going to get some bunk time. Signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Passenger Log 51998702. March 30th, 2061
There is definitely something wrong with the passage of time. I know. I know! We’re on a freaking spaceship traveling at twice the speed of light, yes things are going to be a bit distorted. That’s not what I am talking about, though. It’s more than that. Some of the crew have begun to act strange like they know something is going on, but they’re not telling any of us about it. Green’s gotten more intense. He seems pretty certain that we’ve ripped a hole in the fabric of the universe. I think he’s full of shyte.
Smithers agrees. Well, as much as a beagle can agree. He’s not looking too good. Signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Passenger Log 51998702. June 2nd, 2061
It’s been a while since I logged anything. Smithers died yesterday. You have to understand, Smithers was the first dog on an FTL flight. If you don’t understand why that is significant, think of it like this: Smithers was only a year old when we left. How does a 1-year-old beagle die after only 5 months? The crew seems to think it has something to do with the strain of being in space. There are some of us, though, we’re not so sure about that. Green, of course, has his theories.
Green is starting to make me a bit nervous. He’s getting increasingly erratic in his behavior. Most of the time he just mumbles to himself, when he’s not spouting space-time continuum theories. I’m steering clear of him for now. He’s just not right. Signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Passenger Log 51998702. July 4th, 2061
Happy 4th of July. At least I think it is. Time is moving funny. I am not so sure that Green has lost it now. The guy is starting to make sense. I can’t explain what’s been happening, but some of us have been experiencing these lapses. It feels like we’ve already done something or haven’t yet. I don’t know. Deja vu, but in reverse.
Green says it is a ripple, or a fold, in time. I don’t really know what he means, but the way he explains it sort of makes sense. I’d butcher it if I tried to repeat what he said, but basically, time is all bunched up, like when you roll over in bed and the blanket gets stuck under you, but you’re still somehow under the blanket. There, I butchered it. Oh well, signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Passenger Log 51998702. September 11th, 2061
Shit, shit, shit. The crew, they came and took Green this morning. They didn’t even say why they took him. They just came down to the passenger quarters, swept him out of bed and hauled his ass to the upper decks. Some of us tried to find out what was going on, but the upper decks were locked down. I don’t know what’s going on, but I am fucking scared. Crap, I hear the upper deck opening. Signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Passenger Log 51998702. November 4th, 2061
I don’t have much time. I don’t have any time. No, no, none of us have any time. It just stopped. I don’t know how to fucking explain it, Green’s been gone for months. I just know what I am feeling. Time is gone. Every second is the same as the last, nothing, just emptiness. I mean you should see what the hell it did to Cassie. She cut her wrists. Nothing happened, I mean she’s not even bleeding. Oh, the cuts are there, bright red and angry. You can see her veins. Nothing is happening, though.
I’m scared. I don’t understand what is going on, but nothing is going on. I mean nothing goddamnit. We’re supposed to be there in another month and a half, but I don’t know that we’re even moving anymore. I wish Green was here, he might have an idea, crazy as he was. Shit, shit, shit. I am not even sure this is recording. Fuck it. Signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Passenger Log 51998702. ????
Alright, the logs don’t even know when it is. Fuck, for all I know it’s been a millennium or more. Time started moving again, not for everyone, though. Everything is covered in blood. Cassie’s dead, it was a fucking storm of blood, like just all at once. She was screaming the whole time. God, I just want to go home. I don’t even know where home is. Signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Captain’s Log. February 28th, 2062
Passenger manifest suggests we had thirty-seven passengers. However, I only have logs from Passenger 51998702. We’ve arrived safely on PLE-B21, but there is no sign of our passengers, save for a nut named Green. The man keeps babbling about time distortion and alternative reality disruption. I’m having the crew see to him. I am sending this as a sub-light communication in hopes that it reaches command. Hopefully, they have give me a name for this 51998702 guy.
Son of a bitch, never thought I was going to have to send such a request. I suppose while I am at it I’ll send a request for more laborers. I don’t recall taking on thirty-seven passengers, but maybe the logs are off. PLE-B21 signing off.
Poseidon’s Trident, Captain’s Log. June 28th, 2062
Four goddamn months. Well, I suppose it could be worse. It took an entire vessel over a year to get here. Four months isn’t so bad for communications. I found out who our mystery passenger is. Volunteer Passenger 51998702, Jackson Green. So, apparently, the guy we got locked in psych is our prankster. Looney as a fucking toon. I’m getting too old for this shit. PLE-B21 signing off.
Thanks for reading. Until next time folks.
Your Friendly Neighborhood Author,