The Go'Kai

A fantasy story I wrote a while back. It is a little rough and needs revision

It had been ten years since the first landing. The Go’kai had descended from the heavens towards Earth and told us they were here to learn from our culture. We foolishly accepted their word as truth, or believed they could not pose a greater adversary than we. But whatever the reason, that hubris led to our avoidable downfall.

The beings that we had so carelessly trusted had been truthful; they were here to observe our culture. But the reason was not what we had expected. The Go’kai wanted to learn more about us in order to prepare for war.

Perhaps our governments had known that all along and were planning to turn on the Go’kai first, but in the end, it didn’t matter. They came down upon our cities with such speed and ferocity; there was no time to organize sufficient resistance. And all opposition was met with cold, immediate extermination, used to put us in our place.

Well it worked.

None of us could have ever dreamed that the whole human race could have been overcome so easily, which is perhaps why their victory had been achieved so quickly.

The shock of an entire planet falling was immense: too great for one person to carry. But instead of coming together, we became even more separated as they pitted us against each other in gladiatorial games. Suicide rates rose to the moon as morale scraped the bottom of the oceans.

But just when it seemed like life for the survivors couldn’t get worse, the United Nations finally decided it was time to organize and fight back. Their violence only ended in the death of more humans being held captive.

The Go’kai abandoned their camps and left us locked up during air raids. No one knows if the jets stopped bombing because nothing was moving any longer, or because they had run out of ammunition, but all missions ended in failure.

Years passed with this routine slaughtering Go’kai and human alike, until one day, the sky was so covered with dust and earth that the sun had become invisible, and air strikes were made impossible.

The atmosphere had gone completely silent. No one knows exactly what happened, but we all understand that the UN abandoned us. We are now forced to live in prison camps, working for our captors, waiting for the day when our rebellion will finally come into fruition. Until then, we are doomed to waste away underneath the sunless sky.

My name is Samir and I am one of the human captives in the Go’kai prison camp formally known as Uganda.

 

I was woken up by the familiar clang of the guard beating a pole against the prison bars. I pretended to still be asleep, but snapped awake when I heard the metal door slide open.

“Get up, parasites!” shouted the guard. The army grunts had a limited English vocabulary, which consisted of commands and insults. He stomped around the cage making sure to step on whoever was still lying down. I cringed at the sound of a bone snapping under his boots. He strode over to the obediently formed line of captives and started to randomly choose people out of it. This particular guard stood at a startling height of seven-foot three. He had the usual build of a Go’kai warrior: broad shoulders, a neck as thick as my thigh, and unbelievably muscular all around. His skin was scaly and light green with white rings. His eyes, which had no pupils, were a cobalt blue, and what should have been white was turquoise.

“What’s he doing?” the Brit next to me whispered. He was new.

“He is choosing who gets to work today. And you better hope it’s you.” The guard’s finger pointed at me. “Why? Working in this weather would be hell.” he scoffed.

“Work is survival. Those who are chosen for work, get water.” I took my spot in the newly formed line and started to leave. I doubted I’d see him again.

I’d grown accustomed to the stifling grey clouds that always seemed to loom overhead, but today seemed different: brighter. I wasn’t the only one to notice. Several of us had stopped to look up at the sky, which looked thinner today. Our distraction was short lived due to the beating we all received on our heads. We regained our depression and marched on towards the work site.

We arrived at the dried up Lake George, now called Valley George, which had become the burial pit for the human prisoners. Our job was moving the bodies away from the side in order to make room for the new ones. As I slid down the side of the lake, I made sure not to go too fast and fall. Getting hurt in this place was a guaranteed ticket to the execution line, and I was not going there. I reached the bottom of the valley and started to get to work. An American near me spoke. “Damn, I just saw this guy yesterday. Can you believe the brutality of these fuckers, Samir?”

I tried to make it a point to never look in the faces of the bodies that I moved, but I knew what he meant. “Yes, Joseph, I can believe it. After all that has happened here, I’m becoming accustomed to this lifestyle.” He grimaced as an Irishman named Liam spoke.

          “It breaks me heart to see children in this pile; makes me want ta kill every last one of tem murdering b******s.” We all nodded silently, unable to speak anymore due to the arrival of the guards.

The day went on and the heat increased. It seemed that every time we had cleared out a pile of bodies, a fresh batch was ready to be moved out of the way. But this was work, and it kept us alive and gave us something to do during the day. Back at camp was where the physical torture happened. I’d never been unlucky enough to witness it, but from the bodies it produced, I could easily guess what it entailed. Most came to the pile missing a few fingers and toes, while some came in so many pieces that they were unrecognizable as human. I think that they are sent our way to rattle us, and I can tell that it works, much like everything else in this godforsaken camp.

The work day ended at sundown and we were herded back to our cages. As I split from my “friends” we said our goodbyes. “You going to be at work tomorrow, Liam?” asked Joseph.

“You can bet your arse I will be!” he did a half smile and walked away from us. Joseph turned towards me and I nodded. He walked towards his cage and I entered mine. I scanned the cage and as I had suspected, the Brit was no longer there. I bowed my head in respect and prayed, “Rahmat Allah Alayk. May Allah’s mercy be upon you.” I went to my pile of straw and fell asleep as soon as I was horizontal.

The next day started the same as the last: ruthless clanging of metal on metal and the ceremonial pick of workers. As we made our way to the lake, there were a few of us checking out the sky. It was still oddly brighter than usual, yet none of us knew why. I put it in the back of my mind after getting beat in the head and slid my way down to the pile of bodies. Joseph was there waiting for me. “Hey, Samir, do you know where Liam is?”

I looked down and picked up the body near me. “Yeah, right here.” I threw the body of Liam down in front of him. He jumped back in surprise. “Ah s**t, man. I was getting to like that guy.” I watched him for a moment as he bent down and closed Liam’s eyes before I went back to work.

 

The nights became more sleepless after that. I continued to think back to that day when Liam’s lifeless eyes looked up at me. I’d tried to forget it, but there was something special about his death. Maybe I had considered him a real friend, or maybe the constant death of the human race was finally getting to me. Either way, I needed to get a hold of myself before I stopped sleeping, and then breathing, forever.