The Flight

[Karl Jak]

It was a relatively calm flight. The majority of the individuals who had signed up to go on the expedition spent their time intermingling and trying to forge new friendships. For his part, Karl sat in the forward lounge and enjoyed a handful of complementary margaritas before retiring into a small enclosed room and taking a pleasant little beauty nap. About halfway through what should have been a wonderful, four hour affair, Karl was woken up by turbulence that jostled him from the armchair.

“Well that’s rude,” the man mumbled as he stood up, undid the latch, and slid open the doorway. As he stumbled out into what was a small hallway adjacent to the VIP lounge, the executive producer noticed that the view out the window seemed just a little too askew. “What?”

Although he was leaving one of his priceless suits in the private room, Karl found himself drawn to the window. Pressing his face just slightly against the cool glass, he had to stifle a laugh when he noticed that was off about the view.

The clouds were tilted.

“Lovely.” Karl smiled as he turned around and saw one of the bartenders staring passed him with wide eyes and a colorless expression on his face. “Don’t be so sad, Barry, I’m sure everything will be wonderful.”

Before the young man could offer a response, the oversized jet jerked roughly as something deep within its bowels rumbled in displeasure. A beat later, something stronger than turbulence cascaded across the plane as it started to lose altitude.

All across the plane, the volunteers and the Syntech crew found themselves trying to cope with the situation as best they could. Before any of them managed to do little more than frantically react, the jet split apart like an overripe watermelon and started a suicide dive from twenty thousand feet in the air. Like two slain phoenixes, the luxury airliner’s halves twirled downward from the heavens, leaving behind streams of fire, smoke, and incinerated material.

While most people onboard managed to make it into buckled seats or safety harnesses, those who failed to do so were gifted a merciful death amid the fire and the various explosions that blossomed across the jet as its fuel tanks ruptured. The most stoic individuals aboard the plane managed to linger for a few moments before exposure to the atmosphere compromised their ability to remain conscious.

With a gauntleted fist clenched around what had once been a waste receptacle, Okor the plague marine remained silent as the craft plunged. Amid the catastrophe, he had failed to see many of the individuals he’d met at the facility and onboard the plane. What he had noticed was the sentient feline managing to secure itself amid the straps reserved for the flight crew. Through some level of ingenuity, the four-legged creature had preserved itself for the time being.

How long had they been falling? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

Sunlight had once bathed the ruptured craft, but despite its descent, the light was lost to a growing darkness. That is, until the Syntech jet reached its final destination and slammed into a landmass nestled amid the oceans of the Dante Verse.