ECHS Fiction Magazine    
     

Suicide

Chuy Chupacabra

The clouds hung low in the winter sky, and it looked like it was about to snow. The ground was white for miles into the horizon. The skeletons of trees were few and far between, their branches praying to the sky for renewed life. The wind was howling with fury, punishing those who dared stand in its face. A nearly frozen river cut through the landscape, making its way to the sea. And a man stood there, waiting for the hour to come. Snow was kicking up in his face, and his beard was already a false white. He wrinkled his face as he looked into the horizon, waiting for a sign to come.

The sign came. It made its way from out of the clouds and hovered over the surface without making a sound. It was a small craft, and it landed gently on the snow not far from where the man stood. It opened its doors and out came two figures. The figures came closer to the man, and the man stood there waiting.

"You know this is our final contact," one of the strangers said.

"Just tell me why you're leaving," the man said, wanting to know.

"We've finished our survey of your planet and we have concluded that the dominant species of this planet is not worthy of being saved," the stranger said gravely.

"What do you mean 'not worthy'? Don't we deserve a chance to -"

"Please stop. Your race is headed towards destruction. Your people have raped the environment, and you are about to unleash a hell on Earth, thanks to all your technology," the stranger said. "I don't see why you are so surprised. It has happened many times before in more important planets than this one. The nature of your species is not suited for survival. Therefore, you will die."

"But we've tried, haven't we? Man is capable of doing good. Do the good deserve to perish with the rest?"

"You do not understand. We are not going to destroy your species, it will destroy itself. Just pray that from your ashes, the Earth may produce a race capable of living with itself. It has been 'Survival of the Fittest,' and your race is not fit for survival."

"Then who is to be saved?"

"The whales," the other stranger said. They turned around to leave for home and they did not look back as they entered the vessel. It silently floated off the ground and it went above the cloud cover. It was gone.

The man walked off into the horizon and headed for home, not terribly convinced that they were wrong.


Copyright 1987 by Chuy Chupacabra. Unauthorized duplication, posting, or publication is strictly prohibited.


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