55. Ship Of Fools

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Frank reached and grasped the thin, leather-bound hilt of the sword, pulling it from the snow. Lifting it into the air, he recognized one of the symbols etched in the cold, blue steel. It no longer glowed.

“What do you intend to do with that?” Dervinias asked, moving out into the open, a few feet from Frank. 

Frank watched the alien progress—slowly. Dervinias stalked him. Now, though, he had an alien weapon. Frank hoped this sword would kill it. Murderous thoughts of slicing off its head riddled him with excitement.

“Oh, you know. Destroy you and your kind,” he seethed, cutting the air in front of him with the sword. He wanted it to light up, like it had for Michael, but it didn’t. He liked the feel of the supple leather in his hands and its weightlessness. “Are you ready to die, alie—” Frank didn’t get any further because Dervinias was upon him, his large hands circling Frank’s neck. With a quick twist, Frank’s neck broke.

Damn! He wassurprised his life didn’t flash before his eyes. Only darkness. 

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