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Writing > Users > EHaze > 2007

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Christmas Gone Wrong

by EHaze

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a piece of a longer writing project. You can view the entire project here: Christmas Gone Wrong

The following is a piece of writing submitted by EHaze on November 30, 2007
"A request from the community for more details about the creature from my Christmas story."

Christmas Gone Wrong II

Goragg leered at the blinking light on his console. Low fuel again. He would need more biomaterial in his tank before he could return home to his lunar base beneath the surface of the moon. His previous confrontation in the trade district of Townville netted a few pigeons, a skateboarding teen, and a bag of trash from the back of a resturaunt. All sources of fuel but not enough "new" material to power his craft home.

Goragg despised the elders for sending him to Earth to scout ahead of the hive fleet. Earth was an inhospitable place with intelligent life forms that weren't necessarilly as smart but were definitely a nuisance when gathered together.

"B l a s t e d H u m a n s." Goragg belted out in the Earthly tongue, spewing the words and gagging on the unpleasant tone.

Goragg was a member of a great race of aliens living beneath the surface of the moon for a milennia. They thrived in a technological era full of prosperity, but the interior lunar resources were wearing thin and Goragg's race for the first time would consider an assault on Earth.

The light blinked again.

Goragg steered his craft over a small clearing in the forest that surrounded the trade district and bordered the urban sprawl where many humans slept awaiting gifts from a fictional character. Pathetic, Goragg thought. Humans seemed to know nothing of advancement and their culture displayed it like a neon sign at midnight.

Landing his craft, Goragg stepped out into the cool night. Much too warm for his tastes. Looking around at the clearing, Goragg's eye scanner picked up on several small rodents and other forest dwellers that he could scavenge for fuel. Maybe he could finally leave!

Goragg wished nothing more then to get home. He had learned much about the human way of life. More than he cared. More than the elders requested. His only wish was to return to the moon and join his 200 family members once again. A few blasts from Goragg's gun and he had enough fuel to lift off again. A grin forced itself across his twisted features as his cylindrical craft rose into the sky. Finally the nightmare was over.

With his craft rising, Goragg soon began to see black as the deep blue of the atmosphere faded behind him. For a small joke to his family; in preparation for his return, Goragg placed a red helmet on his head. The soft piece of armor has a white felt-lined brim and was ornamented with a white felt ball at the end. Equipment he salvaged from the skateboarder at the mall.

Just then the light on the main console went off again indicating that his fuel was not of sufficient "new" material. Scowling, and tossing the hat into the back of his craft, Goragg guided his craft down to rest in the front yard of a modest home within the community that bordered the forest.

Goragg sighed before opening the canopy and equipping his laser pistol.

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