A “Captain Scarlet and The
Mysterons” short story
by Sue Stanhope
Captain Scarlet, Spectrum, April 17 2082.
I’m
dictating this rather than writing because, well frankly, I don’t know what’s
happening to me. About an hour ago, I
cut myself shaving and it’s still there!
Still there! You know what this means to me? I’m human, I can be cut, bleed, die.
Die.
Next
time I die, maybe I’ll stay dead? A
sobering thought.
How
can I be normal again after so many years?
To
be honest, I think I know. About ten
minutes ago, the Mysterons announced the end of the War of Nerves. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is
celebrating. In about five minutes,
they’ll probably realise that I’m not there and come looking, but I just can’t
look away from this mirror.
There! A grey hair!
I
must admit, I’m getting nervous now.
I’m human, I’m vulnerable, I’m aging and quickly too. But I still can’t get over what this must
mean. I’m not a Mysteron clone! I’m
not! I know I’m not. I think, I
hope. I’ve seen what happens when
they’re no longer needed; dropping to the floor like lifeless mannequins. Suddenly discarded.
Conrad!
I wonder where and how he is? Does he
have any recollection? Is he
alive? Is he mad?
A
wrinkle and more grey hair.
I
can’t watch, but I can’t look away either.
I can hear Adam shouting now through the door. I don’t think he can hear me and I want so much to reply, but
somehow, I can’t. This grim fascination
won’t let me tear myself away from simply staring at this barely recognisable
face in the mirror. How can I explain
this when even I don’t know what’s happening?
Or do I? Deep down, don’t I
believe that this is my final death?
I’m not that old, really, but have the constant regenerations taken
their toll? How can I possibly
know? I see it, I feel it, but I still
can’t believe it.
Did
they just keep me alive for the war? A
Mysteron on Earth’s side to balance the human on theirs? How painfully ironic.
I
was always too busy to think about how I actually wanted to die. ‘Wanted to’ is such an odd phrase and I’m
not sure I ever thought it possible.
Now it may only be minutes away and I’m not prepared. So much I want to say, do, be. Such a waste. I’ve had more life than most and it’s still not enough. Never enough time to tell friends and family
how much you love them, no time left to do all the things I’ve been putting off
for so very long.
More grey and,
yes, I’m so very tired. If I lie down
now, will I wake? Well, if you’ve found
this, then, I guess the answer is no.
It seems the war is finally over and my last battle too. But remember, it’s what I lived for – quite literally. Don’t stop the celebrations. Never stop…
THE END
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