The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

  The Cursed Excavation Site. (Or CES for short) That’s what most of us call it. By “us”, I mean the soldiers and workers that are stationed there. The higher-ups call it something different. Some innocuous, bureaucratic title that they’ve designated for it. I guess it doesn’t really matter what anybody calls it. It sure is one hell of a bizarre place. As you might have guessed, it’s a dig site located smack in the middle of a desert. I won’t disclose which one, even though I doubt that anybody would find it regardless. It’s quite the ways away from any kind of civilization. Like I mentioned before, there’s essentially two groups of people stationed there. The workers – archeologists, medics, guys who do grunt work, etc. And the soldiers. I’m part of the latter group. Now, you might be wondering why an excavation site in the middle of nowhere would require the presence of armed soldiers. I was pretty confused about it myself at first. Ho

  SHINK, PSHH, SHINK, PSHH Imagine hearing that for hours on end while you’re trying to get some sleep. I mean sure, we’re all stuck at home and things can start to get a bit boring, but c’mon. Is digging holes really the best hobby you could’ve come up with? It’s only been a few weeks since I’ve moved into this neighborhood. I can’t believe that I’m already starting to regret it. I already knew it wasn’t going to be the most idyllic place to live, nor was the house itself all that nice when I saw it. Still, it was good enough . However, it’d be dishonest of me to leave out the real reason why I decided to buy the place. It was cheap. Not cheap enough to immediately raise any red flags, but it was at a price that I’d be foolish not to consider. On top of that, I knew the previous homeowner, Tom. Not terribly well, but he was a good enough guy, as far as I could tell. I really thought he was just doing me a favor. He also

    When I was still in middle school, my math teacher once told me that I’d end up in the sewers if I kept phoning it in during class. I mean, I guess he was right. It was around 5 AM when we landed in Staten Island. The flight over was pretty quiet, with both Luke and Armin holding expressions that I knew all too well. It was the expression that one might make when they weren’t quite sure what was going to happen next. “This is as much as I can help you,” the pilot said, as he tried to hide the weary expression on his face. We nodded at him as he prepared to take off. He didn’t seem enthusiastic about sticking around to see what would happen next, and I couldn’t blame him for that. Losing a friend In Colt couldn’t have felt too good either. We only had to wait for about ten minutes to be picked up. Four vehicles (all different makes and models), pulled up, with a taller blonde woman coming out of the lead car. Her face seemed to be frozen in

    “What the hell’d you do to me?” Visser shrieked, still retching up mouthfuls of blood. His skin was becoming redder by the moment. “Fuck you,” Luke responded. “You don’t get to ask any goddamn questions.” “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continued. “You give us the information that we want,” he held up a vial of clear liquid. “And I’ll give you the antidote.” “Antidote… to what?” Visser asked. “What do you think?” Luke responded. “You have about ten minutes before your skin starts bubbling up like a fucking pizza in an oven. It’s gonna look nasty. Say goodbye to that handsome face.” Visser let out a pained chuckle. “Nice bluff. I don’t… feel shit. I’ll survive whatever the hell this is.” I had to commend his dedication to the lie. His face was going beet-red, and his eyes looked about ready to pop out from his skull. Luke sighed. “We can wait then. Let’s see if your tune changes in the next few minutes.” I couldn’t

    “Good grief…” Colt muttered. “Things just can't be simple for once, can they?” The creatures were slow in their approach, but not as if they were sizing us up. There was something peculiar about the way that they moved. Not quite like predators hunting prey. More like a drone approaching its target. Their movements seemed calculated. Methodical. Almost Robotic . “You said no aliens,” one of the Spetsnaz yelled out from the back. “So what the hell is this?” “This doesn’t change much,” Colt said. “These things are still here to kill you guys and we’re here to stop them.” The creatures continued advancing at a steady pace. I looked back at our rifles, which were laid out on the tables. No matter how strong I’d become, the last thing I wanted to do was fight these things with my bare hands. “SHIT!!!” I turned back around, seeing that the creatures had begun charging. I clenched my fists. It didn’t really look like I had a choi

I’ve only been to Russia a few times before, but there is one solid conclusion I can draw about the country: it’s one of the hardest place to complete contracts. The targets are usually hell to put down and my heart feels like it’s seconds away from detonating at all times. I do enjoy drinking over there, though. I managed to get some sleep on the flight over. That would’ve been impossible had I not been tired to the point of delusion. Our ride came in the form of a clunky old cargo plane that only had sitting space for the pilots. I think I banged my head on about fifteen crates before I woke up. “There’s no flights to Norilsk, and I can’t really take a government-owned aircraft without arousing suspicion so I had to call in a favor from an old friend,” the agent explained. I’m sure he could see the trepidation on my face. “Look, it’s the best I could do.” I suppose it didn’t matter. The plane wasn’t the biggest issue. It was what we