#CharactersTell Main Character Week - Interview with Erina Darklight

We're in July! The summer heat is getting stronger, but that just makes us here at #CharactersTell want to go on even more!

With the occasional stop by the seaside to cool off. But that's no excuse! Last week a number of things robbed us of our Background Character Interview, but never fear! We're here with a brand new interview with a character from a returning author!

Our exploring heroine!

Tonight's interview is with Erina Darklight. She's a lovely woman (albeit a bit on the reluctant side, when it comes of talking about herself...but when she gets going she goes on well!) telling us about her life and how she got marooned in an unknown zone of her planet - in the titular High Fyelds of her novel!

The dragon wrangler comes back!

The novel is written by our good friend Mae McKinnon, our dragon wrangler that we met some time ago in a side character interview with Kaheiron, from her novel 'The Damsel and the Dragon' (you can find the interview here!)

You can find Mae on Twitter through this link: https://twitter.com/mae_mckinnon

The book from which Erina comes, High Fyelds, is available on Amazon as well! Go get your copy through this link! https://amzn.to/2NgMGVJ

And finally, she has a website as well, which you can find through this handy link here!

https://dragonquillpublishing.wordpress.com/

But enough with the introductions - let's get to know Erina!

------

The heat is rising up, people are preparing to go on vacation (and some to go camping!) but we’re still here and running! For this week’s Main Character interview, we have another amazing guest, from a returning author! Can you please introduce yourself, your book and your author to us?

Do I have to? Oh, alright then *grumbles* Some people call me Erina. Some people call me other things - a lot less flattering things. I’m living over in “High Fyelds” at the moment since my author Mae Mckinnon is evil and decided to maroon me there (I was perfectly happy where I was thank you very much).

Damn! That does sound like some extreme form of camping, being just marooned somewhere… Can you tell us where you were before? What was your life before this book?

Oh, I’ve done this and that. You know. But my last little posting was onboard a ship called the “Random Star”. Not big. Not small. Far too many people for my taste. Imagine a large spacehopper leaping between planets - except very slowly - and you’ve got the right idea. Though I had a lot more fun than most...you know, the kind where you do secret things in secret places - sometimes involving secret papers and other times sharp blades and a lot of running away.

It sounds like even before getting marooned in High Fyelds you had quite the adventurous life. How did you end up in that line of work? I suppose finding work on a ship flying between planets, as a…’secret services provider’, doesn’t come easily.

*shrugs* I got bored. Figured I’d see some stars - ok, planets - nothing more. It wasn’t hard. Of course, most people holding down that job didn’t take quite such an … ahem … personal approach to it - I’ve heard.

Personal approach? That makes it sound like you have quite the story to how you handled it… So, now you’re moored. Can you tell us a bit more about the planet you’ve been plopped into?

Not sure I’d call hitting an asteroid “plopped” but each to their own I guess. It’s actually the main planet in the system - it’s just that for some infernal *** reason the bit I landed … err crashed … into doesn’t exist, according to the survey maps anyway. But the rest of the planet is lovely - nice mountains, oceans, a few scattered cities and settlements. Hmm, very space-agey really, the few places that have been developed.

Ohhh! Exploring new lands! Does that excite you, even just a bit? I mean, think about it, you might even end up making this new area take your name! Isn’t that how it works?

I’d be a lot happier if my weapons were working. What use is a blaster if it has no power? Suppose you’re meant to hit the local thingies with huge teeth over the head with it. But with good backup - it would be fun. Always nice seeing new things. And I didn’t name this strange place Darklight for no reason *grins* What’s the point of a name if you don’t use it?

That’s a very good point! Let’s talk about the local population of your involuntary vacation spot… How did they take to you? You mentioned there are few places that are actually developed to the point of space-age, did you have troubles dealing with the locals? Did you manage to interact with them or is there a language barrier?

Haha!! Don’t think I’m gonna have any trouble with the locals - unless they happen to be ghosts. The planet is the same one as the one I used to live on before - it’s just that this particular bit of it doesn’t exist as far as they’re all concerned. They can’t see it. They avoid it, but they can’t see it.

Oh! So it’s a return home for you? Was there some...reason for you to want to avoid it so much that it took a crash landing to come back?

Not at all. The Star stops by regularly - at the civilized, science obeying, sensible places. I just think it’s a bit boring, that’s all.

You did mention a number of very interesting specimens of local fauna with very big teeth and a penchant to do things that require a blaster stock right on the nose. That doesn’t sound very boring - can you tell us a bit about these creatures?

You got that right. The Valley isn’t boring. It’s strange. Strange, but not boring. Now, I’ve got no trouble with dragons - sensible people, but these snarlies. Well, do you know what a warg is? Take that, make them live in a swamp and give them plenty of spines, extra teeth, armoured coats and you’re about half-way there. But we also seem to have lots of strange deer, horses, boars, fish (very tasty fish at that) and rabbits. Blue rabbits. As I said. Strange.

Think about all the fame and fortune you can get by exposing these new species to the more civilized part of your world! It must be incredibly exciting! Or are you not one for these sorts of endeavors? Do you prefer to just leave a discreet note somewhere and let someone else take care of it? Or perhaps you just want to let this place remain an untouched, exotic landscape?

Fortune? Is that some sort of gathering of what you used to call money? I read about that in the history books. Sounded messy, if you ask me. Curious concept, certainly. We’re not big on exploiting living beings if we don’t have to around here - well, not in that old “run in and shoot everything on sight that looks magnificent” style. So yeah, the Valley stays as it is - though I might want to find a more convenient way in and out before I ask anyone to visit. Unless it tries to eat me...

Interesting - so your society evolved to use another system instead of money? Can you tell us a bit about how your current economical system works?

Yikes. What do you think I am? A professor? You might as well ask me how a Q-DEM engine works. I just press the button to go, and it does. Hmm. Well. It works well.

Mmmh. Well, then again there must be a way for you to acquire what you need… or did you use to resort to those ‘sneaky’ ways before you started your voyage through the planets?

Oh - that’s what you mean. You can acquire most things if you’re sensible about it. A lot of things are manufactured by machines that create them from molecules and such, I think, so all your basic needs are catered for. What you choose to do with it, that’s up to you. Lots of folk like making things by hand just for the sake of it. You’re supposed to be “sensible” with resources. And I’m NOT sneaky.

Ahhhh yeah, ok, I get what you mean! And what about this new area in which you arrived? Did you find that same sort of tech, or do they resort to other kinds of trading?

They? They mostly go baaa, or eeep or grrrrr. They’re animals. Nice animals in some cases, but hardly what you’d call tool-using creatures. Hmm, maybe except for some of the birds, if you count twigs. And power doesn’t work here. Electricity doesn’t work here. Everything has to be done some ways so old-fashioned I’ve never even read about them, which is a bummer, seeing as I’m the only one here.

Well, I’m definitely interested in seeing how you handle such challenges! And if you’ll ever return back to tell people about the land of Darklight! But I’m afraid we’re running out of time for tonight’s interview - is there something you’d like to tell our audience?

Interesting is a good word to describe it. Guess we don’t always get to pick our own future. Hmm...how about “Don’t try this at home?” No? Ah, I’ve got it! “When the world throws you a loop, kick it somewhere painful. And if it has lots of teeth and you don’t, prepare to run away very fast afterwards.”

That’s a lovely message indeed! And a very good advice for someone who might be in your same situation… Thanks again for coming! It’s been a pleasure meeting you! Can’t wait to see more of you in High Fyelds!

------

Well, that was certainly interesting! And as a reminder, this month, the 3rd of July, #CharactersTell will be back in collaboration with #WIPchat! So make sure to come along for the ride!

As always, YOU can have YOUR CHARACTERS interviewed on this blog! Just shoot me a message on Twitter and we'll sort out where to slot your interview!

And with that, I bid you all good day - and happy CampNano to who partecipates! We're all with you guys!!

Halifax

This is a short story I wrote some years ago, and that I translated about an year ago. Originally in italian, it's a little experiment in sci-fi horror, with a rogue reclamation crew and a  luxury ship disappeared years before suddenly reappearing...hope you enjoy it!

Sitting on the floor, his back leaning on the metal door of the small storage room where he found refuge, Jeff Vaugner kept his eyes on a fixed point of that white wall, stained of rust, without actually seeing it. Surrounded by the bright, merciless light of the emergency system, he held tight the powerful pulse rifle like a fetish, a talisman that could save him from all evil. At the screeching sound outside the door, and the noise of blows ramming on the airlock mixed with the crackling of bones, Jeff gasped, feeling his powerful shape of flesh and cyberware shiver, every muscle fiber trained in the years under the enemy fire during the Venus Colonies revolt.

The blows stopped echoing in the small room, and Jeff let his body slide lower along the cold surface of the door, feeling its chilling temperature seep into his military bodysuit, even if it was studied to survive the most extreme conditions.

When another scream, more similar to an electrical discharge, echoed in his brain along with the rhythmic shuffling behind the wall, Jeff leaned his head back, the fingers of his only natural hand trembling violently on the bridge of his rifle.

‘It can’t come in.’

It was his optimistic side saying it.

‘It doesn’t want to come in’ his realistic side replied.

Even after hours there was nothing but almost complete silence, broken only by the low and regular humming of the electrical systems. Jeff was still there, crawled, feeling his muscles ache for keeping such a position this long.

But he couldn’t move. An irrational instinct urged him to remain against that door, in the belief that, as long as he kept there, motionless, everything would be fine. That nothing could enter as he pushed that door like a heavy block of concrete.

That humming started getting on his nerves. He started hearing again those voices, the ones of his companions, calling to him. He could swear he was able to see them sometimes, there in front of him, pointing their fingers at him. Sometimes it was just a fleeting vision with the corner of his eye. Others, a presence behind the small metal boxes dotting the storage room.

But those weren’t the worse. That spot was reserved to the times he closed his eyes and could feel already their shadows cover the light of the lamp on the roof. And when he opened them, he could see them there, all around him, staring at him in silence.

Judging him.

Mocking him.

The wall in front of him wasn’t as smooth as it used to be: thick burn signs revealed where his energy bullets landed when he lost control, after the third time those spectral figures came to visit him, trying to wipe them out in a fit of hysteria.

But even pulling hard the trigger of his weapon, he saw those globes of light pass harmlessly through the bodies of his best friends, and instead of their cries of agony only the fizzling of metal deforming under the intense heat of those shots resounded.

Then he closed his eyes again, screaming, and they disappeared.

The electronic screeching of that THING came back, from time to time, during those hours.

Sometimes, when that noise reached a particularly penetrating note, the world around him changed colors, reaching cold, absurd tones that left him shaking in terror.

The walls seemed to melt in an organic mix of liquid metal, distorting and creating vague forms and geometries. Sometimes it felt like the surface wanted to snap free of its hinges and embrace him, fuse with him, capture him in a spiral of pain and madness. The floor lost its consistency, and it felt like sinking in an oily, freezing goo.

He thought he saw the glimpse of what might have been a faint teal, a purple, maybe a crimson red. Nothing seemed to have sense. But those gleams were always, unceasingly fixed upon him.

Sometimes, in those crackling, snapping sounds he thought he heard a laughter.

Sometimes it all happened when there was nothing and no one around him.

He knew that none of that could be real. If the pavement of the room really became an oily mess, why the wraps of the rations he frantically ate were still there? Why weren’t they swallowed by that organic mass bent on devouring everything?

But even this consciousness couldn’t avoid his mind to go into a panic, his throat releasing whimpering mewls of horror every time he felt that substance wrap around his feet, his legs, pulling him lower and lower. Even just thinking about it left him with an accelerated heartbeat, eyes barred as he aimed his rifle against the wall, waiting for the shadow on the corner to suddenly become another set of fangs ready to eat him.

Even now the surface seemed to shift and deform. Not much. Nothing as horrible as those weird formations of shining flesh crawling towards him. But he could see the vibration. The faint shivering of something alive about to pounce on him, playing with him, reveling in his fear, and every time Jeff turned his eyes to check the rest of the room he felt tense, trapped between those four walls.

He lost it completely for the first time. Tossing his gun aside, he got up and started bashing his metal fist against the wall with all his might, screaming, cursing, whimpering, not even stopping when he felt the creak of the mechanic junctures of his prosthetics break with quick clanking snaps, not even when he saw his index break loose of its slot and fall on the floor.

Crying, he left himself crawl on the door, feeling against his cheeks wet with tears the bumps his now useless, wrecked hand left on the surface.

And after a long moment of silence, the walls started to thunder. The noise in his mind got stronger than ever, that penetrating note splitting his head, his thoughts. The room mutated again, and the sound seemed to come from all those fleshy growths reaching for him. He couldn’t breath, gasping for air under the intense, organic heat. And behind that noise, the voice of that THING, he could hear the beating of tens, hundreds of blows that shook the bulkhead. The rifle disappeared in the liquid pavement, and bringing his hands to his ears, slashing himself with the metal spikes of his useless fingers, he tried to get that sound out of his mind, until he just slipped in a black abyss.

He came back to his senses that a couple of hours should have passed. The room was still there. The gun was where he let it drop, and the white, constant light shined on the blood splatters coming from his cheeks, from the wounds that he caused himself in those convulsed movements, slashing his ear and face. He slid his only remaining hand on his short hair and he found himself sobbing again, quietly, for a couple of minutes. Once he pulled himself together, he tried to find some solace in what little he still had. The footage of his squad. Activating the small holoprojector, he looked at his ex-companions, one by one.

It was just another night after a job, at their favourite pub. He saw Adam again. His sensual, fit body, toned, the perky breasts held in one of his usual skin-tight dresses. His pale skin covered in esoteric symbols, from time to time glowing of a mystical light. The long, flowing black hair. She was the face of the group, able to run business as well as she could manipulate the subtle energies of the universe. He met him during the war, after which he got his body sculpted to resemble his ideal of beauty. He saw his projection one more time, the theatrical, playful entrance in the establishment, and his favourite line, towards one of the beauties of the pub.

“My name is Adam. And for you I’ll be the first and last real man you ever met.” with that feminine, warm tone that made him look more charming and mysterious - at least in Adam’s eyes. Jeff two selves, the one in the pub and the one trapped there, laughed almost at the same time.

He saw again Bharghav, with his olive skin, and the connection jacks on one side of his face looking at Adam, shaking his head and sipping his beer with a resigned sigh.

He was talking about his last attempts at breaking in a database, and how he hated viciously the defense programs. Jeff’s happy self, the one in the pub, kept nodding, unable to understand completely what the indian was saying.

He saw Jeff Vaugner again, the famous Jeff Vaugner. He saw his powerfull mass, his mechanical arm with neatly decorated plates in memory of his battles, his fearless expression…

He turned the projector off. He didn’t want to see it anymore. He didn’t want to see himself. He didn’t want to BE himself. But the digital images got quickly replaced by memories.

The occasion of a lifetime. The reports from Bharghav about the credibility of their informations. The humongous luxury cruise ship Halifax, disappeared years ago in an anomaly along the outer rim of the solar system, and its sudden, silent reappearance at the edges of a small patch of cosmic void contended between two rival corporations. The battle plan. The euphoric departure, towards what was the dream of every treasure hunter.

The entrance in the enormous interiors of that colossus of metal and luxury, the absence of any sign of life. The faint brushing noise following them as they moved in the gargantuan hall.

The first time the world around them changed as that noise echoed in their mind.

JEFF! Cover Bharghav and Klaine! Get the fuck out!

His mind heard Adam shout those words again, saw her body tense in the effort of manipulating reality to counter the enemy. He saw again the limbs and torsos tore apart, moved by invisible strings pinning her down. The screams of pain, mixed with the fear of his two companions as they turned their back to her.

He felt on his back the stock of his rifle, the panicked shots against those macabre puppets moving towards Bharghav and Klaine. He saw a toned, pale and decorated arm fly towards him before hitting his head.

He saw it again.

Hundreds of eyes, all different, hanging in the air and looking at them. The walls and the columns of the hall melting and reforming in new, incomprehensible shapes, the imposing, shapeless mass of their enemy, the pulse of blood rushing through those tentacular, transparent growths, stolen from the bodies it puppeteered.

As he sat in the storage room, feeling Adam’s presence towering over his body curled on the floor, the memories arose the sensations he felt when he saw that thing.

Tense muscles. Barred eyes, frantic and uncontrolled breaths. The total blackout of his thoughts, the shaking of his body.

He recalled the corridors rushing around him as panic held his mind in a cold grasp. He recalled the small storage room, his hands hurriedly searching for the sealing button, his body pressing on the door as his companions rammed against the metal plate, crying, cursing him, pleading him to let them in, and finally scratching and screaming beastily in their last moments of life.

His ears filled again with the dry and wet sound of cartilages getting ripped, flesh shredded and broken bones, the last, gurgling sounds of the dying companions he was supposed to protect.

Then, only fear and a rising shame.

Until now.

After those fleeting apparition in the hours he spent in there, abandoning them, now all three were there. All three looking at him. All three staring at him in silence and judging his cowardice.

Blaming him.

“LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU WERE DEAD! YOU WERE ALL DEAD! I COULDN’T DO SHIT!”

That raging bellow echoed in the small room, but his prosecutors were unshaken.

“I...I didn’t want to...I didn’t want to! I loved you! But I couldn’t, really! I’m sorry, leave me alone, I didn’t want to let you die but I couldn’t do anything!”

Now his tone wasn’t but a pathetic whimper, a desperate prayer. But his friends kept staring at him, in silence, motionless.

And along with their silence, he could hear a slow, regular beat, a crescendo against the outside of that room.

A rhythm growing in strength and desperation, until it became the same rhythm of Bharghav and Klaine’s as he stood there like a rabbit letting them die, with his implants and powerful weapons.

He resisted for a while. Sobbing, praying, screaming and attacking those mute figures, trying with all his might to grasp at the last shreds of his mind.

He couldn’t even tell the exact moment when something snapped beyond repair inside him.

An hysterical smile crept on his lips and the gasps of a high-pitched, irregular laughter shook his body.

“Oh yeah? Yeah? This is how it is, huh? You know what!? I’M FUCKING LEAVING! I’M ALIVE! I’M ALIVE AND I CAN LEAVE THIS FUCKING PLACE!”

And with a last cry, grasping his rifle with his only serviceable hand, he opened the door and ran outside, in the enormous hall.

Stepping on the blood being sucked into the that invisible force, laughing, he kept the trigger pulled even after there was nothing more than the sound of the spool spinning empty, before the heads of Adam, Bharghav and Klaine, real, decapitated with those spread eyes surrounded him.

An olive-skinned hand grasped his wrist as the sharp teeth of Klaine sunk in his neck, ripping skin, flesh and tissues, and, finally, letting that laughter end in a hoarse gurgling, as the hands of his old companions flayed his body.

After a couple of hours, the blood disappeared. The glimmering, deserted corridors of the Halifax shone when the rays of the sun entered the portholes. And the gargantuan cruise ship kept silently, inesorably move along its last route towards Earth.