Ajna

 

Prologue

 

BY THE RABID KUKABURRA

 

 

Symphony Angel, Cloudbase, Spectrum, et. al. are created by Gerry Anderson, and belong to ITV.

 

Many thanks to Ms. Kohler and Ms. Bishop for their generosity and patience!

 

 

 

 

Symphony Angel, aka Karen Wainwright, had never been afraid of the dark. She prided herself on her calmness and rationality, both essential tools for her outstanding career in the military and Spectrum. A steady mind in the thick of battle is vital to a fighter pilot, and Symphony had worked hard to discipline her thoughts and emotions into rigid order. Therefore, she was at a complete loss when that order began to fail.

On this chilly October night, the blonde Angel pilot sat on the edge of her bed, gazing at the walls. These quarters, which had once been as warm and inviting as her former home on Earth, had become as cold as a prison cell. She had locked the door and shuttered the windows, yet she knew, just knew, that somebody or something was in the room with her, peering in from somewhere she couldn't place.

Nobody else is here, the blonde-haired pilot told herself as usual. There's no logical reason to think there is. The feeling persisted.

Three weeks ago, she had been rescued from the desert after her Interceptor crashed, the result of a faulty wire the diagnostic computers had overlooked. Symphony had collapsed from heatstroke and passed out, to be rescued just in time by Captains Scarlet and Blue. A few days of recovery in Dr. Fawn's sickbay, and the Angel pilot was well again.

At least, in a physical sense.

Lately, Symphony had been feeling more and more unnerved. It was just a vague sense of unease at first, which she chalked up to the near-death under the scorching sun; the awful nightmare she'd had while unconscious hadn't helped any. But the sensation grew stronger with each passing day until it metamorphosed into a powerful sense of being watched, even when she was sure she was alone. When sitting in her jet fighter, Symphony's eyes would wander down to the flight deck to see if anyone was staring up at her. Every time she walked down a corridor by herself, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder to see if she was being followed. Empty rooms suddenly seemed threatening.

Symphony told herself over and over that she was being silly and irrational, but could never convince herself..

And then there were the headaches. Like the paranoia, they had started as a mild annoyance that grew worse and worse with each passing day until they were endless hours of throbbing agony, like a railroad spike being driven into her forehead, that no amount of painkillers could dull. To add insult to injury, they almost always happened after *that* dream, the one she'd been having remittently since the rescue.

Something moved in the edges of her vision. Symphony's eyes darted around the room. A thin edge of nervousness pierced her thoughts. Had the shadows always been that deep?

Oh, stop it! Symphony scolded herself. For the last time, there's nobody else here!

The American fighter pilot quietly crawled under the covers, rolled onto her side, and forcefully told herself that there really wasn't anybody staring at the back of her head. Worried that the nightmare would return, she fought sleep at first, but allowed it to overcome her.

Her fears were justified. Behind Symphony Angel's closed eyes, the horrible vision played itself out once more.

Once again, Cloudbase burned under the repeated fire of the Mysteron vessels. As Symphony watched, it fell from the skies, taking the corpses of her friends with it. But that wasn't the worst. The worst was that awful feeling of being watched. Something unseen watched as the fiery wreck of Cloudbase streaked towards the horizon in a wake of its own destruction, watched the distant explosion with something like twisted glee, invisible eyes fixed on the thread of smoke rising from beyond the sky. Then, to Symphony's horror, the eyes turned on her. She could see them now, as bright as the brightest stars in the night sky, boring deep into her with their unblinking gaze. A chill slid up her spine, dreading what was coming next.

The dark entity swooped across the desert on vast black wings. Symphony had never seen the thing itself, only the mass of darkness it cloaked itself in. Or perhaps she just didn't want to get a closer look. She didn't know what it was or why it pursued her, only that it was what was responsible for what was happening to her, both mentally and physically. This was what was always watching from the shadows, stalking her. She knew it had something to do with the unspeakable pain nesting in her head.

The fighter pilot tried to run away, even knowing full well it was hopeless. The creature flew faster than any bird; Symphony's puny human legs were no match for its speed. She never got farther than a few meters before the beast was upon her. Even now she could see its shadow thrown across the sand around her, its breath hot against her neck. It dove towards her.

Symphony Angel struggled as the monstrous claws pinned her to the desert sands. The thing leered down at her, its mouth twisted into something that could be called a grin in only the most generous sense of the word . The American Angel pilot fought for her freedom with everything she had, to no effect. The talons dug into her flesh, snapping bone, shredding soft internal organs. The pain was worse than any she'd experienced before, dream or no dream. She found herself being twisted around to face her attacker.

The monster lowered its star-bright eyes to meet hers. Symphony gasped as images began to flow into her head like water into a glass. Somehow, the thing was showing its mind to her, where it kept fragments of memories collected from those it had hunted before her, like trophies on a shelf. Such strange memories they were--a birthday party frozen in time, an enormous dining room, a city with a spinning tower burning to the ground as spacecraft slammed into it, two enemy factions dancing to Christmas music on the moon, a cowboy on a horse with a noose around his neck, a man screaming as his spacesuit filled with dark liquid, a nightclub among the stars--these and so many more, and oh god the pain was back, so much pain in her head, like burning knives in her skull, oh please God make it stop make it stop MAKE IT STOP....!

Symphony awoke trying to scream, but only the tiniest whimpering noises escaped. Her head pounded with intense pain as she staggered out of bed and toward the bathroom. She splashed the cool liquid on her face and sobbed.

What's wrong with me? she wondered miserably. Why won't Dr. Fawn do something about this? She raised her eyes to the mirror.

And saw the blood trickling from her ear....

 

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

 

OTHER STORIES BY THE RABID KOOKABURRA

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