Life is an eventful event. That can’t be argued. Living is the action required to live life, otherwise a man can drown in his deepest sorrows, his darkest fears. If you had a chance to live life in a place where home cannot be reached, would you?

A certain child thinks so.

The story starts, in the most bustling places of life. The ocean. The dark depths are swimming with life, while the ocean itself is alive with the gravitational pull of the moon. The waves crash against the side of the metal cruise ship, the foamy, salty water arcing over the railing of the ship. The light of the moon reflects off the surface, the clear sky giving the moon room to shine.

Many windows line the sides of the cruise ship, with some curtains drawn, while some windows have the face of curious kids gasping with their mouth wide open, in awe of the ocean’s fury.

At a window at the exact middle of the ship was a face of an older child, an adult with a child’s heart. He would gasp every time the waves soaked his glass window, but for a mildly different reason from what common sense dictates.

“Oh lordy, Gaia is wet tonight.”

The childish man would sometimes say, among other things, when the waves hit their peak. As for why the man would say such a thing, was his vivid imagination of the paranormal, or his belief that yes, there are other places made just for fantasy creatures. To explain his belief in such things, you would have to blame the local library of his home town for kindling the imagination of a wannabe author.

Turning away from the window the man walk over on sailor legs to his bed, where a book is currently placed on. On the books cover was a dragon, something he earnestly wished he could’ve been born as. Sadly, fate didn’t give him scales or wings, just blue eyes and hair that was brown. With the addition of technology instead of

He jumps onto his bed, his book bouncing up to his lap with the aid of physics. He smiles slightly as the ocean tosses the boat from side to side, which meant on a cruise ship that the weather is extremely bad. As the rocking of the ship causes the man to start flipping pages at an increased pace, a slight sound of ‘something’ echoes through the cabin, and reaches the man’s ears.

Looking up from his reading, the man sighs. Muttering under his breath about how the world is unfair, he reaches under his bed while getting off of it, leaving the book open on the page he was reading. Pulling a long, big black box from under his bed, he sets it onto the bed and opens it with a click. Taking out a long, pointed object, he caresses like he was in love with it.

“Ah.. the pen will always be mightier..”

Getting up, he walks over to the cabin door with his long, pointed thing. Opening the door, he looks back into the room, and silently hopes that he could read the ending of the book. He really wanted to finish that book…

Another sound of something loud echoes towards his ears, and he quickly gets out of the doorway and into the hallway. Closing the door, he discovers the hallway deserted, a sandal carelessly stranded in the hallway. He rushes towards it, only to pass it on his way towards the stairs at the end of the hallway, where up is the only option available for him.

Pounding up the stairs, the man held the thing in his hands like a sword, as he turned corner after corner. A scream then echoes towards the man as he reaches a door at the top of the stairwell.

The man lifts up his foot, and tries to kick the door down. Sadly, the 100 lb. metal door doesn’t budge in the slightest, and the sound of panicked voices comes from the other side of the door. The man grunts as he kicks the door again, but fails as the door still doesn’t budge. Sighing, he looks at his hands, but a realization dawns on him as he looks at his right hand. He lifts the thing in his hand and slashes down on the door twice in a crossing motion.

The door falls apart into four rectangles, as the scene in the room finally reveals itself.

A man in completely black attire is holding a gun to a woman’s head, her clothes revealing everything as they are currently being shredded by another man. The other man was closest to the door, holding a knife that was pressed against the woman’s throat. The man holding the gun was beginning to move the gun away from the woman’s head as the man with the thing holds it up next to his shoulder.

“Get away from the woman, and you’ll be left with only bruises.” He menaces the two men with the long unnatural thing in his hand. The two men look at each other and begin to laugh.

“Ricky, didya hear that? He’s gonna threaten us with a giant ass pen!” The man holding the gun laughs out.

“Gunner, it’s even funnier after you just said that!” Ricky says while tossing the knife to his other hand. The woman relaxes slightly as she catches sight of her potential savior, though the fear of the two men attempting to rape her allows for fear to show.

“If you don’t leave her alone, I will give you no choice but death by stabbing!” The man threatens, as he begins to run forward. The lights flicker slightly, just above his head, and he disappears from the duo’s sight.

“What the fuck Ricky!? Where did that dweeb go?” Gunner says as he begins to grab something from within his pocket, and flips it open to reveal it as a cell phone. Typing at an unusual speed, he brings it up to his ear. After a few seconds, Gunner curses and throws it onto the ground, shattering it. Ricky looks over at his partner in crime.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Dude, why’d you do that? We need it still!” Gunner spits onto the ground, while sending a quick glare to the panicked Ricky. “No shit, but there ain’t any coverage out here. It’s completely useless. You also saw how that man disappeared, like magic. Unnatural, that’s what that guy is.”

“You shit heads are going to pay for touching me!” The woman screams when the butt of the gun hits her temple, knocking her unconscious. She falls on the floor with a natural thump, and stays silent. Ricky gives Gunner a look, and Gunner replies with a shrug. “What? She would continue to yell, and we don’t need that.”

“Yeah yeah. Keep on the lookout for that guy. He’s a crazy one, I'm sure of it.”

They look around the room, trying to find any movement out of the ordinary. The room itself was a regular food storage room, with boxes stacked irregularly and some of them remained open. Shelves on the walls added to the effect of a cold storage room, despite the fact that the temperature was above freezing.

“You know, you two have been really naughty.” The voice of the man echoes through the room, as if he was at every single corner. The duo freeze in their search, and turn towards the center of the room. Standing there, right before their eyes was the man with the giant pen. On the pen itself, the word “MIGHTY” was inscripted into it. The man drops the top of the pen until it points at the one with a gun.

“Die maggot.” With those two words, he disappears and reappears behind Gunner, and stabs him straight through the chest. The sound of something wet and heavy dripping on the floor is the only sound that comes from Gunner, as he drops the gun, causing it to prematurely fire.

The man looks at the gun, and kicks it over to a banana box lying open on the floor. It fires once again before landing in the bananas. With a smirk, the man says to Ricky, “Wasn’t that painful? To be hit by those two bullets on both your ears.” Turning away from the dead Gunner, he slides the giant pen out of his body.

Ricky falls onto his ass, dropping his knife with wide eyes, as he reaches to touch his ears. Or, at least where they were. Two gaping holes with a tiny fringe of skin showing where the ears once were at are the only things left. Oddly, the bullets shouldn’t have been that big, but the man continues to smile despite the oddity.

Taking very, very slow steps towards Ricky, he makes a “tsk, tsk, tsk” sound. Ricky scoots backwards until he hits the wall of the storage room, fright appearing deep into his eyes. The man with the MIGHTY pen crouches low and looks straight at Ricky. “Do realize that I am a little… messed up.” He taps his own forehead with the pen, leaving a blood mark on his temple. Ricky begins to shake visibly, his teeth chattering while he tries to say something.

The man leans in closer, letting his ear try to decipher what Ricky is trying to say. With a scowl on his face, the man urges, “Hurry up left nut, an author always has to write the ending message.” Ricky begins to say something. “F..o..” The man leans in closer. “What did you say?” “FUCK YOU!!!” With a roar, Ricky moves forward and bites into the man’s ear.

“Fuck!” With a yell the man picks up the man with abnormal strength, and slams him against the crate with bananas in it. A discharge of the gun occurs, and a hole appears in Ricky’s head as he falls forward, still latched onto the man’s ear. Prying open Ricky’s dead jaws, the man gets out of the ear-lock. “Damn, you guys really suck at taking care of your gun.” Rubbing his ear, he grabs his pen from the ground that dropped while he had picked up Ricky.

“Well, might as well.” Gripping his pen, he stabs the pen into the body of Ricky, and pulls it out with a quick turn. The blood drips off the pen silently, as he chooses a clear wall to write on. He saunters on over to the wall, and leaves a clear, deep red message just below the window.

He steps back to enjoy his work, and on the wall itself read, [HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN], which was his code word for justice. He nods to himself, when a bright light from outside the window enters his eyes. He squints, as he walks over to the window.

“What in that bastard’s name is that?” He asks himself, receiving no reply as the light comes closer and closer. Realizing something, he grabs his pen and begins to right on himself, by digging into his skin. Grunting in pain, he finishes one sentence of a language not known to the Earth, something that he has only seen in his dreams.

At first, he thought the symbols nonsense, but he began to write the symbols down since he was a kid. Nothing really happened, except recently the sentence he had just written was very important, important enough to be dreamed about for weeks, and then suddenly stop on this day.

The man looks back at the light that covers the entire window, and he smiles at it. Only one last phrase escapes his lips, a phrase he often writes in the name of justice.

“How the mighty have fallen.”

With those words, the bright light hits the window, instantly vaporizing it as the light shows its true nature.

A meteor.