Ego-Death

By W.C. Hotchkiss

Jennifer Shore has belonged to a time traveling empire for as long as she can remember. Until recently, her objective was to manipulate major events on earth, but now she faces exile there. The planet is going through a great awakening, and Jennifer will be forced to confront a new Antichrist...

Ego-Death is an extremely multifaceted work of fiction that aims to push both the boundaries of the written craft as well as the human psyche. In this story, we explore a slightly alternate history of Earth and human civilization, one in which almost every myth and conspiracy were actually based quite largely on truth. The allegorical tales of Jennifer, Olivia, and Wolfgang allow us to view the fantastical, disturbing, and awesome world of the legendary. A planet gripped in the tyranny of a ruling elite, and the rise of a new breed of human. Expect time travel, dark magic, alien encounters, deep world-building, and mind-bending plot twists.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667842585

Book preview

Episode 1: The Angel

(Reccommended Theme - I Am The Antichrist to You, Demo-Arigato Version)

Ghosts singing sweet sinister songs. Then the buzzing of static on radio waves; this was a simultaneous and ever reaching broadcast. The voice was becoming clear. The creature’s voice was like a hatchet being dragged down a long stone tunnel, his breath reverberating like wind through hollow and desolate corridors. Yet with words of vengeance and fire.

**I once dreamt I was taken by a fallen angel. A decidedly unholy creature that sought to teach me his twisted ways. I had a vision of Wildfire, consuming the sins of the people and burning bright on the mountain. A most terrible curse was set upon me, and I set it free. Though I alone cannot be held accountable.

I was visited by a beast; a burning bull. A monster with a furnace for a stomach. Witches, wizards, clowns, and blind men danced around the carnivorous flame. And they asked you to feed it your young. They played songs and laughed at you, and gave you shiny trinkets in return. Then you gave up your innocent, the same way you gave up me.

Then the bull used its dark magic and science, turning your world against you. It told you all that it was your neighbor who wronged you. It said if you ate your brothers and sisters, all the problems would go away. You feasted without hesitation. The ones who saw truth held their hands out to you, and out of fear and pride, you ate their fingers. The beast of death; the great burning flame has fed to excess. Long has it bathed in the pit of your suffering. And yet you have the audacity to cry for change. You have the ignorance to fly a false flag of righteousness while you spit on the ones who would be your heroes, bowing to tyrants the world over.

Now your cry has been heard. The creator wants to give you what you ask for. You want the world to change without the need to change yourself. You want the blood of those who act in darkness. You want the one to be in control to be the one who has the answers, the one who wants what is best for your people. You want freedom for you and your children. When you were told that the one law, the one answer was and is inside you, you decided that it could not be possible. Therefore, what you want is a Wildfire. Something beyond your control and theirs.

I am the sum of your ignorance, fear, and slothfulness. The inevitability of your pride and gluttony. Call me Wrath the Lascivious, King of Mars, and now of Earth. Envious of the living am I, and with greed shall I live. You sightless masses have given what was never yours, and through all your years have tyrants reigned. I say to you now that Wildfire will be the last tyrant. A king and eater of his lords and their slaves.

Henceforth, the initiated, pure and luminous, those who stand to permit vile deeds will all be cursed. They will all die by the hand of the new king, and by the Imperium of Shadows which will be my form immortalized. For those who have resisted the rules of these monsters. You, unsung heroes, need only save your strength, for by the end there will be one alone.

Apocopypse thy name is Wildfire, I am abbadon once more**

***

October 2nd, 86 AA3

It was early in the morning when a mail truck left its scheduled route. The employee at the wheel felt something odd take him. Something between a seizure and a trance. The employee recounted why he’d ventured so far off his course, but there would be few to believe him. Most would think it impossible to forget your route, lose your vehicle and trek seven miles to the nearest gas station, only to regain your wits without knowing how or why. He must have been drunk, high, or plain crazy. Or none of the above. For what is the mind but a cyclical pattern of energy which fluctuates in a biological computer. If one had the technology, such a computer would be easy to hack. The Cobalt Ranger was what most humans consider to be a living spacecraft, and thus its consciousness was quite advanced. To the ship, it was a simple conversation. The driver of the mail truck followed the cloaked ship as per suggestion. This would be vital to the ship’s pilot, as she had a need for fast cover. A spontaneous new mission was at hand and she was due downtown, at the protest.

They were good people. They meant well but didn’t know how to voice the need for change without outward fury. There had already been a few small incidents between the police and some rowdy protesters. The mood was set, the blood was ripe, and it boiled. It was all proceeding accordingly. Douglas Friday watched the scene from the heights of his corner office. He was feeling sick to his stomach. This feels really counter-intuitive. Look, he said, facing the window, There are ominous clouds rolling in. Makes me feel like the bad guy.

Are you honestly frightened by the weather? Perhaps this is how you tell me you are having second thoughts.

Douglas looked back briefly, It’s not supposed to rain today.

Mr. Friday, your father made it as far as he did under my guidance. If you do as he did, you can only go further.

Friday fidgeted. What’s about to happen?

Watch and see. Have faith.

Three vans pulled up on the sidewalk; all white. The side doors slid open to reveal a fireteam of three in each vehicle. Pedestrians and protesters gawked and gasped as a band of nurses wielding assault rifles strode up the white cobble steps of the building. They scurried up to the revolving doors and slipped in like mice through a crack. One man happened to notice the crew and began yelling as he deduced their intent. The last nurse in the building used the chairs placed about the foyer to block off the entrance. His team let off some fire in the ceiling to raise the fear. The screaming man tried to throw away some chairs to escape, but the nurse bashed him in the temple with the butt of his FN-FAL. It wasn’t like the movies; his head dented in with a crunch—and it was as though it took a moment for his body to realize it should be bleeding. The man fell on his side, and then he bled like a pig. The nurse fired four rounds into him. Shots rang at random after that. One team held the lobby while another raced to a vault. The existence of which was only known by employees. They would loot the vault as the third team captured the true objective. The people responsible for assembling this team would have the masses believe that all was a greedy testament of anger. The people responsible were the people who ran Friday’s company; it was a transport job.

C, unit nine, was tasked with dissolving Friday’s operation and intercepting a package. When she arrived on-world she knew she had little time, so she had the Cobalt jack a mail truck. Nine threw on the employee’s spare uniform. She was also pleased to see a .38 in the glove compartment, not that more firepower was needed. She took the field kit from the Cobalt, and threw it in the back of the truck, after burning the mail it previously held. She ignited the paper and cardboard in a secluded part of the woods, near where the ship was parked. Nine started her fire with the discarded butt of the first cigarette she’d smoked in months. The first one she took from the pack, also located in the glove box.

Forty-four minutes later, she was parked downtown, on the opposite side of the targeted building. Nine finished her second cigarette as the nurses exited their vans. She climbed out the passenger side but made sure to keep hidden behind the open door, nine put her Glock in the front of her waistband and the .38 in the back. She zipped up the post jacket she found and slipped her combat knife into her boot. Unit nine secured her mail cap, closed the door, and moved toward the steps across the street.

The timing was succinct. The murderers emerged from the building. Two of the larger men were carrying something in the black canvas bag. Nine came out from behind one of the front pillars; she was so swift and quiet that the men didn’t notice until it was too late. One of the larger men turned his head just as nine grabbed his 1911 and put two holes in his eye. His side of the bag hit the steps, and he fell over it. Nine ejected the magazine, threw it at one man—chucked the pistol at another, and back kicked the first man’s friend in the jaw. He could not have prepared for her unnatural strength. His neck snapped and he tumbled down the stairs. Nine had retrieved her blade as she brought her boot down, and she pressed it into one of the nurse’s jugular and then stepped behind him. Nine tripped the man while ripping into his neck. With her free hand, nine drew her own pistol and put down two more armed assailants. Head-shots each. That’s when she noticed the bag had come open slightly. Enough that nine could see a robotic-looking eye staring out. Then nine rolled over her victim and pulled him up as a shield. Four shots tore through the body, and one hit—through nine didn’t care. She dove behind the black canvas bag, and five more shots rang out. Nine flicked her wrist and landed her combat knife in one man’s forehead. He didn’t appear to notice but locked his grip around the trigger. His partner started getting sprayed with hot shell casings, and he shielded his eyes. When nine heard the click of an empty magazine, she cracked two shots in the blinded man’s chest, then one in his head. His friend was making a confusing expression. Seeing as a knife was sticking out of his head, nine couldn’t blame him. She took hold of it and kicked him down, unsheathing the blade from his skull. Then she unloaded her magazine to finish him off. The last of the group, the one who took a clip to the face, began running away. Nine noticed the turn of his waist, and she ducked behind the bullet-ridden bag once more. The guy turned and nearly emptied his rifle in a frenzy—but the moment he went to break for it, two holes burst through his femur. He cried out and fell over hard on his chest. Nine discarded the FN-FAL she’d taken up, and she went close to him. Nine sat down beside the man.

Who sent you? she asked.

Demon Doctor. He said.

Give me a name.

You know.

GIVE ME A NAME!

You haven’t won anythi-

Unit nine took him by the back of his head and forced him down on his chest. She knelt on the back of his neck, pressing his throat into the marble step. Maybe, but I ain’t gonna lose as much as you. Nine checked her eight and two-o-clock as she heard approaching sirens.

She jacked a bystander’s car, loaded the package inside, and left the scene as police cars and squad vans arrived. She expected them to follow her but they didn’t. She refrained from questioning it, she just wanted off the planet. Unit nine endured the same tedious drive back to the woods, where she left the Cobalt. Back down the highway, with traffic this time. Off the exit and into town, through the dirty back roads, and into nature. The car wove the old forest road, walled in with numerous trees and thick green and brown foliage. This area hadn’t seen the sun for two days, only rain and wind. During this time, unit nine thought of how frequently she felt like a monster, despite endeavoring to save so many. It didn’t matter what they did or why they were there; murder is murder, and she’d yet to decide if the ends justified the means. Nine just acted. If she said it didn’t excite her, she’d be lying.

Later, at the national park where she left the Cobalt Ranger, unit nine parked her vehicle and went to retrieve the package in the trunk. She was about to open it when she felt a shiver. Instinctively, nine turned her attention toward the dirt road. A ruddy park ranger truck drove up, slowed, and came to a stop. Out lumbered a heavy man wearing a stretched uniform. It was blotched with mustard and sweat stains. He also had a tasteful kiss mark tattoo on his neck.

Ma’am, you can’t park here. You missed the toll booth, and you gotta pay to park here, he said in a breathy sort of way.

Nine’s eyes narrowed. No…I’ve got a pass. I, uh, paid ahead of time.

Well, let’s see it then, he nodded.

Nine frowned. Sure, just over here. She went over to the passenger side door, and the park ranger approached her with caution. Then he spotted a strangely shaped object sitting in the trunk.

Are you hauling some uh…merchandise? he asked, moving closer.

In her peripheral, nine saw the guy getting too close for comfort. She shot her elbow back and into the man’s throat.

Ggghhou…you, he coughed ..You just assaulted a park ranger. the man sputtered.

You can get out of this if you fuck off now. said unit nine as she started unloading the package.

You can’t park there without paying the fee!

Fuck your fee.

Alright now you listen here! I can arrest you on assault alo-

Nine stepped up to the ranger and sacked him with inhuman precision and speed. The ranger’s feet lifted before he slumped over like a sack of taters. You listen, she said quietly, You’re not supposed to see me here. I’m supposed to ensure that…you get me?

The man struggled to his feet with a scowl on his face, What’re you gonna do little girl, kill me?

Nine shrugged, Sure.

The old ranger’s eyes widened for a moment, then he frowned. You won’t get away with it. My boys’ll be on you like stink on shit.

Nine pulled the .38 from behind her back and cocked it. She shook her head, No they won’t. I was never here.

The two were quiet for a moment. The ranger was getting red in the face. Do it then! he spat.

I don’t want to. Walk away and forget, nine said. But she noticed he was squinting at her, and slowly coming closer.

The old man’s eyes looked to be watering. What’s your name girl?

Wrong answer man. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

Jennifer? Is your name Jennifer?

Nine suddenly felt cold. She took a few steps back. What? Are you senile?

My God…it is you. You haven’t aged a day. I… The ranger started approaching with intent.

Nine’s face hardened. A loud crack startled some birds in a nearby tree. They spurred and flew off in a small flock. The old ranger fell on his behind. Blood spat from his face and streamed down his cheek and chin. Nine put her hand over her own face, Goddammit.

Jennifer… he said absently. Nine threw the .38 on the driver’s side seat of the car. She went in the back, grabbed the package, and hoisted it over her shoulder. Nine started walking, but didn’t get ten feet before hearing, I…I am..so glad…

Nine dropped the black bag and stormed back to the car. She took the .38 from the car and unloaded it in the old man’s face. His blood was on her. Unit nine reeled her arm back and hurled the pistol at the car so hard that it smashed through both passenger side windows. It sailed for another few meters before settling in the dirt. She took up her objective and carried on.

The Cobalt Ranger was a blue dart-like ship, given to her as a gift of initiation. On the outside, the craft was about the size of a tour bus. It was seamless, had no visible propulsion systems, or windows of any kind. The craft hovered three feet from the ground, waiting for nine. As she approached, a thin vertical rectangular opening appeared on the side. A silver ramp descended from it, and as nine entered the ramp ascended with her. Then the entryway sealed itself, as though it was never there at all.

Inside, the craft was a three-story base—each floor spanning twenty by eight feet. Upon entering, unit nine was on the middle floor of the three. Nine kept her Lotus uniform here. This was also where she could access a small armory. The crew quarters, a med bay, and a bathroom could be found on the top floor. Below was storage, and two holding cells. Across from the living area was the bridge, where nine would soon be going.

She zipped up her red jumpsuit, the one which symbolized her allegiance to the Vermillion Lotus. There were green armor patches on her forearms, elbows, shins, knees, abs, chest, and back—these were condensed-carbon aluminum plates. This uniform was complete with red combat gloves and boots. Nine turned to grab her helmet and hesitated, resting her hand on the cold metal. The crimson helmet was shaped like a small three-sided pyramid. It was marked with two black arrows that pointed down the face edge of the helmet. One was an optical camera, the other a ventilator unit. Nine decided to leave the helmet off for now. For some reason, she felt that the smell inside would make her queasy.

Episode 2: Vermillion Sun

(Recommended Theme - Metallica, The Day That Never Comes)

The Cobalt Ranger soared out of orbit—nearly too fast for the human eye. Nine was

headed for the moon, to a region above the dark side. The self-appointed elite of Earth called this satellite the White Eye. It came to watch over the planet long ago, and now the sediment-covered sentinel-class ship was inhabited by all manner of creatures, as well as a small sect of humans. But these were not nine’s people, and they had no love for her and her kind. The White Eye was a relic, and now it was visited by a ghost from its distant past. Nine belonged to this ghost which hid in the moon’s shadow. Indeed, a monster slept there. Kolygus MV-1 was an ancient freighter in the demolisher-class, meaning it was a wonder it could hide behind the satellite at all. This vessel was cigar-shaped, and only by facing the dark side head-on could it avoid stray human telescopes. This was one of the first cylindrical models to be seen in this region of the galaxy. It was all red with small green lights around the hull. Nine had the Cobalt drive itself toward one of the freighter’s many flight decks. She was having mixed feelings again. This fearful flutter in her stomach took hold of nine more frequently with each day.

Cobalt glided close to the vessel now. Unit nine only remembered the color of Kolygus because she’d seen it in starlight—but it was jet black here, save for the green-lit observation ports. She thought those vertical rectangular lights were like eyes sometimes. She was being scanned and analyzed, forever and always. This wasn’t new, this was nine’s life. She was always naked before the Aulkon. But nine was hiding something now, and being truly seen was the last thing she wanted.

A pair of arms extended out of the hull, and the Cobalt glided toward them. One arm took the front, the other took the end. Inside the cockpit, unit nine placed her hand on the green interface orb on the dashboard to turn on the visual scanners. As the blue opaque ceiling lit up and seemed to shift. A circle of red light formed, with a green line in the center. As a voice came through, the green line shifted and mimicked the voice visually. [Please state your rank and clearance code.]

Vermillion Lotus, unit nine of twelve, 499-627. Nine waited for a response.

[You are cleared. Welcome unit nine.] And with that, a rectangular opening appeared

on the hull, and the extended robotic arms guided the Ranger in. It glided gently down to the deck and seemed to freeze a few inches off the ground.

Exiting, nine beheld the usual scene: a bustling, sleepless, and busy military. There

were medics, technicians, and pilots, not all of them human. Red and green Cyhl soldiers dressed in full body armor marched their rounds, guided prisoners and officials, and operated various pieces of equipment. Their spherical grilled helmets made them resemble knights, only more tactical and futuristic. This was the Progenitor Imperium, and they would never be without influence in the universe, and thus they were known by many planets, civilizations, and countless people of all kinds—though sometimes only as a myth. Of those who were aware of its reality, this ever traveling command freighter was a hotbed for inter-universal commerce. Nine had met countless species passing through here. Like the mantis people, usually eleven to thirteen feet tall, more benevolent than not—and extremely intelligent. Humans call their home-world Beph-Orlgha, though only due to our inability to properly pronounce most alien languages. Nine had run into Pleiadians as well; a Nordic-looking race that was quite invested in many affairs of the universe, notably so

in this sector, with the humans of Earth. It turns out that there are many almost human-looking races among the stars; the physicality of two arms, two legs, and a single head and torso were quite preferred among beings of this relative intelligence. That said, there were many alien races that were the very definition of alien. Beings that nine could never hope to describe nor comprehend. Then there were vampire beings.

Though the Progenitor Imperium deployed legions of humans, they were not the

preferred race, but rather the subservient one. The sempiternal Aulkon, an incarnate primordial god that emerged from deep space some six hundred thousand human years ago, was the mother of these vampire beings. They were a twisted race; full of malice and lust of all kinds. They were tall, thin, and spindly people. Hairless, and skeletal. They had unnervingly long necks, queer oval-shaped heads, six fingers, six toes, two rows of teeth. On their faces, one would be disturbed to see they had no eyes of any kind, but rather a soft spot on the lower base of the forehead. Some vile sensory organs reached out to the universe from within. Like hand pushing through a wet cloth. A demon child testing the walls of the womb. Vampire beings did not have a nasal cavity, only a ghastly oversized mouth that spanned half the face. Their dark red teeth were sharkish.

In all the Imperium, these ancestors of the Aulkon were the centerpiece of the universe. This much was obvious to all on this flight deck. As nine walked the metallic gangplank. The echo of her steps was lost to the depths of the planetoid craft. Upon reaching the main deck nine saw a group of vampire beings preparing to board a shuttle. Dressed in elegant and elaborate red and black robes, the vampires vibrated imperiously. Human Progenitor officials surrounded the vampires, relaying information, and casually conversing. Unit nine had her helmet under her arm. She was hesitant to put it on, and it bothered her that she didn’t know why—but she had to put it on, her gut screamed at her to do so. Nine took the helmet and fastened it around her head. She was always thankful for how the piece was built, in spite of her current discomfort. It was true that the helmet appeared awkward to wear, but in truth, it was weighted with perfection. In fact, nine barely noticed it in combat.

The woman made her way throughout the colossus with a gunslinger’s gait and nodded at a few passing soldiers. And they were sure to nod back. It was true that life on Kolygus was tedious to navigate, and rightly so; for it was never made for humans to helm. This much was evident as one would walk through the wide and towering halls. When nine was young, she found the constant contrasting red and green unnerving. Now she was used to it. It turns out the contrasting alien designs on the walls and floor were actually a form of communication between the ship and her crew. That was of course to say that the freighter was a sentient entity. Much like the Cobalt Ranger, and other such craft. When she made it to one of the elevators, unit nine stepped in and the doors closed.

The capsule lifted immediately; it knew where she was headed. The doors opened to a massive dome, with an atrium below—revealing a long, sightless descent. Numerous glowing red orbs hovered about the dome. Being the only light in the room, it created an ominous atmosphere. But nine and her kind had been here many times. There was a circular platform in the middle which was about the size of a football field. The platform was connected to the walls by four walkways, which formed an X from a birds-eye view. Nine left the elevator and marched down one of the walkways. She would meet him once more. Unit nine stopped at the edge of the circle. She knelt. The hovering red orbs halted in place. The dome lit up from a