By Hunter Cook
Day 8:
I don’t know what I am, or where I come from. I intend to write this down someday if I am ever to see paper or a journal of any kind. But for now this is a record I must keep in my thoughts, memorized until I see anything again. I call myself John, as in John Doe. It’s not very creative I know, but beggars can’t be choosers.
I awoke eight days ago and began drifting. I’ve been moving forward at the same pace ever since, suspended in a pitch black void. The void is devoid of anything and everything, no stars or planets, comets or meteors. Just a floating man drifting forward at the speed of a run. There’s an omnipresent light hanging over the entire void, just dim enough to be able to see my own body if I look down. There’s dirt as well, tiny pieces of it scattered around that I only noticed because they begin to pile on my skin as I drift. Rarely, I will collide with a liquid droplet. Not of water, but instead a chillingly cold black substance. I’ve caught a good look at one as it collided with my hand once, and it has the consistency of blood.
I know what blood is, what dirt and light and water are. I remember people and cars, spaceships and stars. But I have no recollection of who I am exactly, what this awful place is, or how I got here. Or why it’s so, so empty. I can’t stop my body or reorient myself. I’m seemingly stuck, unable to do anything as I move forever forward at the same speed forever. I count the droplets, I write letters and numbers in the dirt that cakes my skin, and I scan forward and out into the forever to see if there is anything. If I look down, or up, or to the side, all I see is the endless nothing.
I count the seconds, the minutes, and the hours. Which is how I know how long I’ve been here. I’m probably far off from accurate, but I do the best I can with what I have. I am well aware that as I drift through this endless void I am on the brink of losing my mind. That fact does not alarm me nearly as much as it should. I don’t know why I can live without food, or water as I drift through this endless expanse. My only escape seems to be the sweet release of sleep.
Maybe there’s someone else out here drifting like me. I hope I see something living and breathing soon, or I’m afraid of what may happen next. Maybe I’ve already lost my mind and I’m really drifting through the infinite void of madness. Good night.
Day 12:
I thought I had finally snapped when I saw one for the first time. I was barely awake, drifting quietly as I have been for the past two weeks. When, in the corner of my sleep filled eyes, I glimpsed movement. Barely the size of a flea, it would be completely inconsequential if it existed anywhere else, but to me this tiny organism was a ray of hope that kept my mind from shattering completely. There was life out here in this void, something to keep me company regardless of how small.
I saw more of the creatures, initially they were less common than the droplets of black water. After a few hours though I was seeing a little creature every few yards I drifted. Eventually one latched onto me as I drifted by and I got a good look at it up close on my hand. It was pale white, with eight spindly little limbs and two pincers on its side. It hid in its shell as I tried to touch it. I kept the little thing on my palm and cherished the presence of something alive.
Although far too small to warm me up in any capacity, the little creature warmed my soul as I savored its vitality. It crawled along my bare arm and hand, its spindly little limbs tickling me as it did. It pinched me and I barely felt a tickle of pain. The little critter spent the day playing along my body, as if I was a planet and he was my sole inhabitant.
I held the little creature too tightly in my palm, trying to feel its touch. When I noticed I had crushed it, I was filled with such rage I screamed out into the void. Pure loathing filled me up inside, so much so I could feel it as a heat in my chest. I screamed until my throat was raw, or as raw as it could be in this dark void. I accidentally swallowed some of the black water, which tasted sour like lemons.
I haven’t felt much of anything since. Good night.
Day 16:
I’ve gotten into the habit of calling them Builders. The little crabs that fill this place. I don’t know where they come from, if they hatch from eggs or simply spawn from the void much like myself. I suppose I may never know. The nickname comes from a peculiar behavior I’ve been witnessing some of them engage in. They grab the tiny specks of dirt with their claws, and they seem to spit out some sort of glue like silk. When it dries the dirt sticks together in little globs.
I’ve been encountering more and more of these dirt globs as I drift through the void. They’re no larger than a small rock, but to the flea sized crabs they act like tiny planets floating in the void. Earlier today I saw something fascinating. One Builder’s little dirt pebble drifted into another one’s. They simply used their claws to mold the pebbles together, creating a larger one for them to both live on.
If this behavior continues, could it mean eventually they could build dirt meteors? Planets made of dust for me to stand on? Could these tiny little insects be my salvation, or would I simply die of old age before that occurs.
Can I die of old age? I can’t die of thirst, or hunger. Maybe it is my destiny to see this void built into something bigger, dirt glob by dirt glob. Maybe I am the gardener that will oversee a bountiful forest of life, in a few eons. Or at least live long enough to lay on a pile of dirt, assorted carefully via the claws of my beautiful crustaceans. With that thought, my hopes of one day writing this journal down on paper don’t seem as ridiculous as I previously thought. Good night.
Day 25:
Nearly a month now have I drifted here, if my estimations are remotely accurate. This void feels more full everyday, I no longer wait and scream and plead for a return to the salvation of sleep. Instead I look upon my new surroundings and watch with a curious fascination. The builders have built communities. Their dirt globs collided with more dirt globs, and then more and more after that. They simply add new Builders to the glob, smoothing out the edges and building one big enough for all of them.
I’ve seen some communal dirt globs over the past week the size of boulders, but most remain smaller than that. On the larger boulders of dirt, the Builders dig trenches and rivers in the sides that end in a small cavity. The black droplets that collide with their boulder fall into the crevices and flow down into the cavity. I’ve seen some of these cavities filled like a fountain with the black water, which the Builders seem to drink.
It appears that drinking this substance causes them to grow. I’ve noticed larger and larger Builders on these communal dirt globs. Some have grown to the size of lobsters, and scuttle along the sides of their globs, and into little hidey holes they dig in its side. The larger Builders use their claws to grab the globs of existing Builders, rather than small dirt particles, and then pull them onto their little boulders, smashing them against the side to add to its mass.
These little creatures have pulled me from the brink of insanity, as well as my mindless boredom, and given me something to keep my mind stimulated at the very least. Perhaps nothing may come from their constant labor, but at least I will have staved off madness. Good night.
Day 44:
So much to tell, where do I begin?
I have landed. As I write this in the dirt with my finger, I am sitting on solid ground for the first time in well over a month. Words cannot describe the ecstasy I feel sitting down, laying down, rolling around the dust. It’s hard to believe the Builders created this structure in such little time, even working as constantly as they do. It is smaller than even the Earth’s moon, but as large as a mountain. Holes, crevices, and craters mark its surface and smaller globlets of dirt made by Builders fall onto its mass every few minutes. The Builders simply scuttle over and add the new ball to the mass of their massive one.
It may be years still before I can write this record down on paper, but for today I have written my accounts down in the soil. No more need to memorize, now I can have an accurate journal. I can sit on a mound of dirt and write, I can lay down to sleep. I can simply exist without having to drift aimlessly forever and always. And I feel happier than I have felt since I can remember. I spent the afternoon rolling in the dirt, scooping it in my hands.
A blissful reprieve from my endless drift. The Builders on this mountain of dirt are much larger than I’ve seen before, around the size of a dog. They live in holes more akin to small caves along the surface, and I haven’t built up the courage to follow them in. They don’t seem to bother or recognize me at all, and the sheer size of their claws tells me I should keep it that way. Rivers line the surface of this tiny planet, kept carefully away from the holes the Builders reside in. The rivers all meet inside a pond of black water, which the Builders all migrate towards throughout the day to drink from.
I watched them throughout my day. They either ignore my existence or genuinely don’t see me. Regardless, their constant work continues to fascinate me. Good night, for now. May I write more tomorrow!
Day 45:
I am shaking with excitement as I write this in the dust. I’ve found a small cave to reside in, and this is where I’ve been marking down my writings. If human life may someday reside here, maybe they will see these markings on the wall and try to decipher them. Oh how wonderful that would be. Today as I explored the surface of this world, I observed two new firsts on this small planet.
I went down to the lake of black water. I sat along its side and watched the water, it was still. This planet had no atmosphere and no wind to move the water. The fact that I hadn’t been breathing for this past month, and I hadn’t even noticed it disturbed me greatly. But I was shocked and alarmed when right by my feet I saw the black water move. It jumped out of the water towards me, and flopped in the dirt. Another animal, the first I’ve seen beyond the Builders. No bigger than a leech, it looked like a slimy blue fish without fins, just a sleek long body with two indented cavities on its side and on top of its head. It had big yellow eyes that stared up at me with curiosity. It glowed a faint bioluminescent blue. I grabbed it by its tail and dropped it back in the black water before leaving.
On my way back to the cave to write this down I discovered something else brand new. A dead Builder. In all my time in the void the only dead one I’d come across was the small one I’d accidentally crushed. This one was much larger, the size of a deer. It lay in the dirt limp, its eyes staring straight ahead. Without bacteria and without worms, it would probably lay there forever. I carried it by its claws back to my cave to get a closer look at it.
Its exoskeleton came off in segments, and I got a good look at the inside of the creature. Its organs were small, bizarre looking, and sealed within air trapped inside its shell. The air evaporated as I opened it up, and the organs shrunk as it left them. I couldn’t make heads or tails of the Builder’s insides. Everything seemed bizarre and alien to me, although I’m not sure I was ever an expert on anatomy. Most confusing of all was an organ sack near its spine that was filled with bright pink, slimy, perfectly round pearls. I held them between my fingers and found them squishy, so I laid them in a small hole near the entrance to the cave.
Where do the fish and Builders come from? Why am I here, and what is this place becoming? I am not sure, but I feel as though my questions are closer to being answered than I ever thought before. Good night, journal.
Day 51:
It is truly astounding how much my surroundings have changed in the past week. This small planet is now nearly the size of earth’s moon. Constant collisions with larger and larger Builder colonies has caused it to dramatically increase in size in a timespan I would’ve thought impossible. Even more fascinating, although the rivers of this planet still run black with that mysterious substance, large sections of the pond that those rivers meet at is now made up of crystal clear water.
It appears that those glowing blue fish seem to absorb the black water through the cavity on the top of their head, and then expel clear water in jets through the cavities on their sides. This is how they swim without fins, as well as apparently convert the black water into regular water. I drank pure H20 for the first time since arriving in this bizarre dimension, and it was glorious. Never before have I savored the taste of fresh icy water.
The fish have grown much larger, and as I sat by the edge of the now lake sized body of water they swam up to watch me. I was dipping my legs in all the way to my kneecaps and the dolphin sized glowing fish hung back less than ten feet as their large yellow eyes were fixated on me. I’ve taken to calling them Fresheners. They have much more personality than the Builders, as I was able to play a game of catch with a hardened ball of dirt with an especially friendly Freshener. They seem to be social animals, living in pods like Orcas. The lake was still mostly black water but the edges of it had been cleaned and I wouldn’t be surprised if soon the entire water supply on this planet was turned into freshwater.
On my walk home to my cave my curiosity got the better of me one morning, and I looked down the tunnel leading to a nest of Builders. These were especially large Builders so I could see clearly down the hole. I saw a straight drop that went down at least a mile, filled with Builders of varying sizes climbing along its sides. I knew that if I fell down there I’d plummet to my death, so I quickly stepped back and away.
I tried investigating those strange pink pearls but to no avail. I still had no idea what they were or what their purpose was. I’d completely dismantled the rest of the Builder’s corpse and decorated my cave with its pieces and shell. I cannot wait for the day when I can go for a swim. Good night.
Day 74:
A mist settled over the planet today. It was very alarming as I hadn’t noticed any sort of weather patterns here before. It was chilly and refreshing as I walked through it. It made the dirt that comprised this planet damp against my feet. Collisions with mountain sized chunks of dirt seem to have become a near constant occurrence now. Luckily they never seem to strike near my cave, so I’ve been safe most days.
The lake has been completely converted into fresh water, the only remaining black water source being the rivers that flow into it. The mist seems to originate from it. It sparkles in the glowing light of the Refreshers that now fill it end to end. They dance and swim and make chirping noises as they play at night. The Builders still seem to be able to drink the water although it is no longer black water. I haven’t noticed any detriment to them, if there is any. They seem to be pretty hardy creatures at least.
As I was walking back after watching the Refreshers dance it began to rain for the first time ever here. I opened my mouth and greedily drank up every drop of water that landed on my tongue. I can feel my hopelessness beginning to fade. I’m still fairly lonely in this place devoid of human life, but at least I’m not alone completely any more. Good night.
Day 75:
Strange fluttering birds appeared this morning in the mist. They buzz around like hummingbirds, covered in pale white feathers that shine with an iridescent glow. They move fast and are hard to spot. They make a strange constant humming sound like a small helicopter. Instead of a beak they have a strange fleshy trunk and green green glowing eyes.
As I left my cave this morning one flew in front of my face and breathed out a strong blast of air from its trunk, then flew away. It appears they breathe in the mist and breathe out blasts of air. Clouds have started to appear in the sky above, and traces of algae have started growing on the dirt all around the cave. This strange planet is beginning to look closer and closer to Earth every day.
Perhaps I can make something of a home here after all. Good night, journal. May tomorrow be filled with new wonders.
Day 90:
I found out what those strange pearls were. I heard a shrill sound of shrieking a few mornings ago that woke me from my sleep. I stumbled over to the hole I had placed the pearls in and discovered that they had hatched. There were six in total, and now laying in that hole were bright pink human babies. They were no larger than an egg, and cried incessantly. But they were unmistakingly human, real living humans.
I’ve been feeding them ground up small Builders, which seems to contain the nutritional needs they have. They grow very quickly, much faster than regular humans. In the past three days they’ve tripled in size and now they’re almost as large as normal babies. In just three days they’ve started to crawl and copy words. There are three little girls, and three little boys. I’ve been caring for them in my cave and taking them out for short walks to the lake every day.
Today as we walked home I noticed small trees growing along the shoreline of the lake, which was large enough now that it looked more like a sea. Clouds filled the sky of this alien world and it was turning from black to a dark blue color with each passing day. The trees had small apples sprouting from their branches. I took one home and ate it in my cave. It was sour, unripe, and overall not wonderful. But to me it tasted sweeter than anything in the world. I nearly passed out from the taste alone.
This void is not a void, I am no longer alone. This emptiness is slowly filling itself in around me, and although I may have lost my mind at least I am going to do so with company right along with me. Good night.
