Gardens of Destruction

As dawn broke, the operation commenced, much like any other operation. However, Mark had never seen soldiers so filled with dread. He had anticipated some fear, but the palpable terror he witnessed incensed him. They marched, resigned to their doom, a mindset that he found unacceptable.

The biting cold pierced through their uniforms, seeping into their bones.

“Come on, Johnson, get them in line and let’s move out!” Mark’s voice cut through the chill.

“Yes, Captain, we’re almost ready,” came the lethargic reply.

“To the vehicles, then. We have a journey ahead,” Mark said, striding towards the nearest jeep.

They chose a ground convoy, deducing helicopters to be too noisy and conspicuous. By vehicles, they could approach at a safe distance, then take cover in the forest, allowing a stealthier advance across the fields. Mark wondered if all this caution was futile. Even the nagging tune in his head seemed pointless now…

“Davidson!” A familiar voice pulled him from his reverie, and he turned.

General Patterson approached, flanked by Professor Bernstein.

“Yes, Sir!” Mark snapped to attention.

“At ease. I’ve come to wish you luck.”

“Thank you, Sir!” Mark nodded slightly.

“Professor, explain to him the easiest way to breach the barrier.”

Bernstein cleared his throat noisily, then began:

“Captain... first, let me say you’re brave to undertake this mission.”

“Just the facts, Professor,” Mark interjected, his patience thin for such sentiments.

“Well, when you reach a few meters from the asteroid’s fissure, you’ll encounter an invisible barrier.”

“And I’m learning this now?” Mark frowned in displeasure.

“Bear with me,” the professor continued. “Once you feel the barrier, you only need to do one thing – move slowly forward.”

“How slow is the right slow?” Mark asked sharply.

“I’m not entirely sure, but like this,” Bernstein demonstrated, extending his hand towards a soldier at a painfully slow pace, as if in a slow-motion film.

“That’s how you penetrate the force field!” Bernstein asserted confidently.

“Will our weapons make it through with us, Professor?” Mark asked, concern evident in his voice.

“I believe so!”

“You believe, or are you sure? Because if we can’t get our weapons through, there’s no mission, Sir!” Mark locked eyes with General Patterson.

“I’ll maintain contact and give further orders as needed. For now, we assume the professor is correct about the weapons.”

Mark wasn’t satisfied with the answer but refrained from commenting. It was clear to him that the mission would proceed, regardless of circumstances.

“Yes, Sir. We’ll await further instructions if necessary.” He then turned to the professor and asked directly:

“Tell me the truth, what are we going up against? Give me something to work with so we can survive.”

“Who said you’ll be fighting? To be honest, I have no idea what you’ll encounter inside, whether it’s hostile or not,” Bernstein admitted, his head bowed. Then he remembered:

“Cold weapons are likely more useful than firearms.”

Mark looked puzzled.

“Why, Professor? I don’t understand.”

“There’s a high chance, purely theoretical, that you’ll encounter hybrids – a mix of organic and inorganic life.”

“Let me simplify it,” Bernstein gestured with his hands. “Bullets might be stopped by the intertwining inorganic strands, extremely durable. But a blade could slip between them, reaching vital organic parts.”

Mark sighed heavily. Things could always get worse than expected.

“Understood, Professor. We’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for the advice!”

“To the vehicles!” he called out quietly yet decisively, watching as the soldiers reluctantly boarded the cars one by one.

“This is going to be tough,” he thought to himself, regretting not having the chance to assemble his own team for this mission.

He jumped into the front seat of the lead jeep and gave the order to move out. As they passed the base gate at a slow pace, Mark saw General Patterson standing there, offering a slight nod as a wish for success. The weight of the world seemed to rest on Patterson’s shoulders, perhaps even the fate of humanity itself. Despite this, he was prepared to risk so many lives to save one child. Was this the right strategy, Mark wondered as they drove on. How difficult it must be to choose, to save one and sacrifice a hundred, or to win the war, regardless of the cost.

The colossus loomed ever closer, heralding their impending fate. The convoy navigated the dark forest paths with brisk efficiency, covering the distance swiftly.

“We’re nearing our destination, Captain. All set?” the driver glanced at Mark expectantly.

Mark, monitoring the satellite locator, saw it light up, indicating their arrival at the pre-determined point. They were still shrouded by the forest, but the giant structure towered over the open, cratered field ahead.

“Drive further in – find a suitable spot for standby,” Mark commanded.

Soon, they found an ideal stop along the path.

“Everyone out, prepare yourselves!” Mark’s voice crackled over the radio.

The squad, about thirty strong, donned their full combat gear: heavy Kevlar vests, helmets, knee and elbow pads. Each helmet was equipped with tactical displays, showing each soldier’s location and feeding them various information.

“Listen up,” Mark’s voice was soft yet carried the assurance that it was heard within every helmet.

“I know you’re scared. Believe me, fear grips us all; I’m not made of stone. This mission marks the beginning of a war we are duty-bound to win – for ourselves, our children, our parents. Those invaders out there want something from us, and it’s not peaceful coexistence. It’s up to us to confront them, to show we’re not afraid. We must be the first to punish those responsible for wiping out an entire city. Show them what it means to be a true soldier. I expect mercilessness from each of you, no matter what we face.”

Mark scanned the gathered soldiers, their faces a mix of determination and apprehension.

“From my experience, I can tell you this: no one is immortal. Neither are we, nor are they. Remember, whatever they may be, they aren’t supernatural. I’d bet my life on it!” He heard a faint chuckle in his headset at his last remark.

“You are soldiers, and I expect you to act as such. We might return covered in glory, maybe only a few of us, or perhaps none. A soldier must always be ready for death. I am ready, and I fear nothing. Are you?” Affirmative voices echoed in his headset.

“And if that’s not enough, we have the honor of saving a child’s life. The little angel who once roamed our base – I’m sure you all know who I’m talking about. Shall we let those monsters experiment on her, or shall we run away like cowards at the sight of the enemy?”

“We’ll slaughter them like dogs!” came the rallying cries through the headset.

Mark paused dramatically, then concluded his speech.

“That’s all I have to say. It’s up to you to return as heroes! Now, let’s move out – dispersed formation, lights off, infrared mode. Drivers, stay here with the vehicles. I’ll radio in when we enter the object; be ready to drive to the entrance quickly if there’s an alarm. Clear?”

“Yes, Sir!” came the crisp response.

They moved in battle-ready formation as Mark had ordered, advancing steadily but not too hastily. Soon, they reached the fence. The opening in the asteroid, previously explored by the lost robot, was their target.

“Beyond the fence now, heading towards the crack. Spread out, keep watch in all directions. The rear guard, stay vigilant.”

“Yes, Sir!” the soldiers responded.

The moon, clear and bright, illuminated their path, eliminating the need for night vision. Yet, Mark worried that if they had visibility, so did their enemies. Approaching the entrance, he felt a surge of youthful excitement, like when he dreamt of being an explorer, the first to discover new lands and strange peoples, like in adventure novels. Now, that childhood dream was coming true, perhaps at the cost of his life.

Mark’s inner smile broadened; fear had dissipated, leaving only the feverish anticipation of battle. This heightened state, a prelude to the fray, was familiar to him. Memories of past missions and close encounters, from which he had emerged victorious through skill and sheer luck, flickered before his eyes.

“Captain Davidson, do you read me?” a voice buzzed in his helmet.

“Yes, Sir!” Mark recognized General Patterson’s voice.

“We’re monitoring the situation from the command center. No movement at the entrance so far; it seems quiet. How are you holding up?”

“Can’t you see, Sir?” Mark retorted, referring to the cameras mounted on some of the soldiers’ helmets.

“I’m asking about your mental state, Captain.”

“Yes, Sir. I believe we’re all geared up for this.”

“By the way, Davidson, that was an inspiring speech earlier. You have the makings of a fine general.”

“Thanks, Sir! Though it would be challenging to be anything if I’m dead,” Mark chuckled at his own jest, pondering if he’d enjoy being a general rather than... well, dead.

“Good luck, Captain!” Patterson’s voice was succinct.

“You’ll have front-row seats to the show soon enough,” Davidson ended the exchange.

Patterson did not respond further. Mark confidently led his squad towards the asteroid’s crevice, which they believed to be the entrance. No obstacles encountered so far; it seemed the battle for the “entrance” wouldn’t happen outside, he mused. The full combat gear weighed heavily, limiting their movement – an inconvenience Mark disliked, but perhaps necessary against the unknown.

Finally reaching the asteroid’s entry, mere meters away, Mark’s caution intensified. Approaching the supposed protective “zip” described by the professor, he braced for an invisible barrier that never materialized. With cautious steps, he stood at the entrance, aiming his rifle into the darkness, the flashlight on his helmet cutting through the void.

“General, I have something important to report,” Mark spoke into his microphone, crouching with his weapon trained on the obscurity.

“I’m listening, Davidson!” Patterson’s voice came almost immediately.

“Sir, I’m at the entrance, and there was no barrier, despite not moving as slowly as the professor demonstrated.”

“Interesting. Are you alone, or is everyone there?”

“Most of us are at the entrance now, and no one encountered the barrier. Should we be concerned?”

“I don’t know, Captain, but I don’t think it’s a problem,” the professor’s voice chimed in.

“Could it be a trap?” Mark asked skeptically.

“There’s no way to know, Davidson!” Patterson replied. “Proceed as planned, move inside.”

“Yes, Sir,” Mark sighed, signaling the squad to enter.

The crack stretched upward into the abyss, making them all feel insignificantly small against the colossal structure. In defensive formation, weapons ready and flashlights lit, the squad moved through the gigantic opening. The first few meters revealed nothing, but gradually, the interior began to unfold before them. They trod on a porous structure of unknown origin, within a vast chamber or cavity so expansive that their lights failed to reach its ceiling. As they advanced, bizarre shapes jutted out from the ground—some crystalline, wholly or in parts, while others were like odd geometric forms crafted by a deranged sculptor. These stretched upwards to an unseen height, toward a ceiling, if one even existed.

Mark’s stride on the soft, porous ground felt odd but stable. The unique sensation underfoot piqued his curiosity, yet he maintained his focus.

“Captain, look!” a tense voice rang out, accompanied by the clatter of weapons.

A soldier pointed to something on the ground. Mark approached, crouching to inspect. It took him a moment to comprehend what lay before him.

“General, do you copy?”

“Yes, Captain. What’s happening? We can’t make out the details from the video feed.”

“Sir, we’ve found your research robot, or what remains of it. It’s utterly crushed, as if something colossal had plummeted onto it. Many parts are missing, torn away violently, not disassembled. Everything was forcefully ripped out.”

“I see it now. Continue on, Captain. And be cautious.”

“Understood, Sir!”

With a gesture, Mark signaled the squad to move forward. The terrain became increasingly rugged, resembling hills, and the bizarre growths—what Mark internally dubbed ‘plants’—multiplied and diversified. So engrossed was he in these alien formations that he failed to notice how deep they had ventured.

An automatic rifle burst echoed, prompting everyone to drop to the ground, weapons at the ready. After a tense silence, Mark’s voice crackled through the radio.

“Who fired?” he demanded, his voice laced with anger.

“Me, Sir!” came a reply.

“Why did you see?”

“There were small things, like cats, darting between the growths, Sir! I didn’t hit them, they were too quick.”

“Watch carefully. We’ll wait a minute more, then continue. No firing without my command, only in direct threat. We’re not here to shoot at shadows. Clear?”

“Yes, Sir!” came the somewhat sheepish response.

“Let’s move on. No more mistakes.”

After walking about ten minutes more, Mark began to lose his sense of direction. Thankfully, they had placed locators for the return journey. The terrain became increasingly uneven, with enormous mounds rising endlessly upward. Some appeared perforated like Swiss cheese, with gently glowing tunnels resembling lit caverns. Others spiraled skyward, leaving Mark to wonder if they were structural supports or another type of local ‘flora.’

Their night vision devices struggled to penetrate the darkness, and visibility extended only as far as their flashlights. Davidson pondered the enormity of their task—finding a child in this colossal structure seemed nearly impossible. They began to ascend, hoping not to scale the entire structure. According to the images shown to him, human figures were visible about fifty meters up through the crevice. The location of the child remained a mystery. Davidson was determined to push as far as reasonably possible.

The unknown tantalized him increasingly, his human curiosity intoxicated by the thought that he was among the first to witness an alien civilization.

Hours had passed, punctuated by brief rests that Mark refused to count. They continued their relentless ascent, which by his estimation, should have brought them to the level of the silhouettes.

“Captain, look!”

One of his soldiers shone a light on an intriguing object resembling a gargantuan arch standing between two hills. Beyond it lay a flat area, devoid of the strange protrusions.

“Get ready, we’re entering!” Mark commanded.

They cautiously crossed the arch-like structure. Its rough surface, seemingly composed of layered metal, bore enigmatic forms akin to drawings—cryptic yet mesmerizing. They found themselves in a vast, enclosed chamber, dwarfed by its sheer scale, with walls etched by a mad sculptor’s hand into reliefs of bizarre shapes.

“There are people!” someone exclaimed.

Inside were devices Mark had mentally termed ‘devices’, arranged in a peculiar geometric pattern. Atop some, human figures lay, more akin to machines under repair. They were entangled with various strings and misshapen pieces. Their exposed insides seemed to be interwoven with metallic threads and crystalline structures. The grotesque humanoids wailed, their gazes devoid of any human essence.

“Hell! What is this?” Mark whispered, a wave of terror washing over him. Fear of death was familiar, but this surpassed all bounds of perverse cruelty. He yearned for the annoyance of that song in his head, but even that eluded him now.

“We’re checking everyone, Captain Davidson!” a voice crackled in his helmet.

“Try to free someone, check for vitals, but first, look for the child,” he ordered.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, Mark saw a soldier fall with a pained groan.

“Damn it!” the soldier yelled.

Mark spun around, catching sight of a bird-like silhouette diving for another attack.

“In the air! Shoot it down!”

The beams from their flashlights, combined with a hail of bullets, brought the creature crashing to the ground. It attempted to rise, but with a calculated leap, Mark plunged his knife into it. Metal screeched against metal, but the blade penetrated the metallic threads, and the creature stilled.

“What the hell was that?” someone asked.

Before anyone could answer, a panicked shout rang through their headsets.

“We’re under attack!”

Gunfire erupted against unseen assailants. Mark turned to see grotesquely transformed animals charging from all directions.

“Form a defense circle!”

The soldiers complied, firing steadily. Despite their resilience, the monstrosities eventually succumbed to the armor-piercing rounds. When they drew close, Mark commanded, “Use your knives and blades!”

What followed was a brutal melee. The soldiers, protected by their armor, fended off the frenzied creatures. The scene was a nightmare—a dance of shadows and light, with brief glimpses of humans and beasts locked in deadly combat. One by one, the soldiers neutralized the attackers until the last of them lay motionless.

“Is everyone ok?” Mark asked, breathing heavily, his knife still in hand.

“Report, one by one!”

Soon it became clear: only one soldier was seriously injured; the rest had minor wounds.

But Mark’s unease lingered. Something inside his guts felt like this wasn’t the end.

“Let’s free these people and get out of here,” he commanded, an ominous feeling gnawing at him.

Mark’s words lingered in the air, hanging ominously, as the people they had sought to save stood motionlessly at a distance. Their chests grotesquely opened, revealing a tangle of metallic threads and bones, transformed them into avant-garde sculptures of horror. Mark noticed they held something, or rather, it was attached to their hands — an extension of their arms, flowing from their shoulders to the ground.

With cautious steps, Mark approached for a closer inspection. Suddenly, a scream of agony pierced the eerie silence. Mark spun around, his breath catching at the sight of one of his soldiers collapsing, impaled, while one of the grotesque figures with the bizarre appendages stood emotionlessly behind.

“Fire!” Mark bellowed, rolling to the ground and taking aim.

The others, needing no encouragement, unleashed a barrage of gunfire at the approaching figures.

“Killʹem all!” Mark shouted into the radio, remembering an old Metallica song.

The dark chamber lit up with the fiery tongues of their rifles. Someone lobbed a grenade, but it seemed to do little damage.

“Aim for the head!” someone yelled, trying to be heard over the cacophony.

The assailants, undeterred by bullets, relentlessly advanced towards the soldiers with a singular purpose — deadly impalement. Shots found their marks, yet it barely slowed the attackers. Some fell only to rise seconds later, resuming their charge.

More screams filled the air as the sharp weapons found their targets.

“Retreat, quickly! Get the wounded, use cover fire, and move back towards the open corridor!” Mark commanded, his voice struggling to penetrate the gunfire.

The squad retreated slowly towards the door, keeping their assailants at bay, their numbers thinning.

“Don’t stop firing, rotate to evenly distribute ammo!” Mark continued to yell.

They managed to escape the cavernous chamber, reentering the vast expanse of the asteroid. Suddenly, silence fell, the echo of gunfire ceased.

“Look, they’ve stopped chasing us, they won’t leave the arch!” exclaimed a soldier.

“Keep moving!” Mark ordered firmly, scanning the darkness in every direction.

“General, can you hear me? Do you copy?” he repeated insistently into the radio.

No response came from the other end, just empty static. Lingering in this ‘jungle,’ as he had dubbed it, was futile, Mark decided that the inevitable was now apparent. These non-humans could not be saved and were perilously dangerous. Continuing the search for the child in this horror film setting was insanity. But he vowed to return, better prepared. He longed to share his resolve with Patterson, but the connection was lost in the eerie silence of the alien landscape.