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Creative story death cload

Creative Story: Death Cload

2100 hours, Captain James S. Steward of the United States Air Force straps on

his G-suit and goes over his mission briefings one last time. He walks out into

the hanger and awaits his chariot. The SR-71 Blackbird, the fastest plane in

the world with it's twin turbine engines and slick black radar absorbent skin

make him a flying shadow in the air. His mission, to fly a covert

reconnaissance mission over Moscow, the heart of the USSR Intelligence believe

that the Russians have a build up of nuclear missile silos around the capitol.

With the Cuban missile crisis at hand, the United States cannot let their guard

down on a sneak attack from the Communists.

"Another suicide-run," says Captain Steward to his flight maintainer.

"Yes, sir," replies the private.

Captain Steward squeezes into his cockpit seat like a sardine in a can.

Little switches, gauges, and buttons embellish the cockpit, each with a crucial

part in flying the aircraft.

"Ready to rock n' roll."

Steward pulls the Blackbird out of the hanger like a cumbersome Oldsmobile,

but only this special Oldsmobile can travel over twice the speed of sound

undetected by enemy radar. With a push of the throttle the twin-turbine engines

roar with authority. The bird takes flight disappearing into the night skies

evanescently. The only sign that it exists is the trademark sonic boom as it

passes the sound barrier.

After approximately seven hours flight time and two in-flight re-fuelings,

the Blackbird reaches its destination, Moscow, Russia. The thermal imaging

camera, located in the bird's hull, depicts the radioactivity from nuclear silos

as bright yellow and orange blobs on the terrain. The images show seas of

yellow throughout Moscow. The city resembles a giant missile base up and

operational. Captain Steward pulls a 180 and heads for home with sick eerie

feeling in his stomach.

After a long comprehensive study of the recon images, the United States

order an increase in their production of their nuclear missiles to counter-

attack any offensive the Russians have planned. Silos sprout like weeds

throughout the United States and the President gave the order for Defcon 2. The

country falls in a state of panic, as they slip one step closer to a nuclear

holocaust.

On the other side of the Atlantic, the USSR notices the nuclear build up in

the United States. In fear of an preemptive strike, the Communist fuel and

prepare their birds just in case. This pre-war act resembles a chess game; one

side makes and move and the other counters it until both sides end up killing

all their pieces. Both countries fall into a stalemate, waiting for the other

to make the first fatal move. Tensions mount as the stand off continues for

weeks.

On a clear Sunday morning 0700 hours, Russian radar picks up an American U-

2 spy plane just finishing a routine recon mission. The Russians take this as a

national threat and a violation of their air-space. So it begins. The Russians

make the first crucial move, launching twenty-four nuclear armed missles on

populated cities scattered throughout America. Strategic cities like Washington

DC, Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, and Dallas fall among the list of targets.

American satellites pick up the launch, forcing them into Defcon 1. The United

States counter-attacks with a wave of their own missiles aimed throughout

Russia. The missiles take the air like a swarm of bees, with a stinger capable

of killing millions within seconds upon impact. Somewhere over the Atlantic the

Russian missles and the American missles pass each other by. The missiles home

into their pre-determined targets with no mercy and no hesitation. The impact

of a single warhead creates a tremble that measure 2.9 on the Richter scale. The

blast-wave radiates hundreds of miles wiping out everything in its path. Houses

and building blow over as if constructed of paper. Complete obliteration within

a matter of seconds.

The victims of the blast-wave do not even have the time to hear their own

scream. Everyone within a hundred miles of the detention sees a flash and

instantaneously they disinergrate into a meager pile of gray ashy dust. Those

who did not die immediately upon impact suffer radiation poisoning. Any person

within two-hundred miles of the blast suffer radiation burns so severe that the

skin sizzles like bacon . Some victims sprout a third arm and mutate into un-

human creatures, like teenage mutant turtles. After several hours of exposure,

the victim's skin melts into a liquid state and they go into convulsions.

Radiation poisoning saturates their internal organs and the body rejects them.

The body's own innate instinct to flush out foreign objects causes victim to

vomit their own internal organs. Moments before death the victim's eye s

shrivel up like sun-baked raisons. This nuclear holocaust claims billions of

lives. Both countries literally glow like a night-light from the radiation.

The mushroom clouds, the only thing left, blanket the Earth. The clouds

mask the Sun restricting light to reach the surface. Acid rain pours out of the

radioactive clouds and eat away the O-zone layer. Ultra-violet rays bake the

Earth like a microwave TV dinner. The surface temperature reaches a scorching

two-hundred degrees. The polar ice poles and two-thirds of water that once

cover the Earth, evaporate leaving the landscape naked. For tens of thousands

of years our Earth cannot support life all because the hands of man. The

upraise in humanity results in the annihilation of the human race and of the

world. We created our own demise ; we created our own Doomsday.



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