In Search Of... The Baltic UFO

As I sit here at the First Annual Pennsylvania Literary Festival, I decided it was time to write something as I wait for interested readers to swing by my table. Here is a tale I wrote inspired by the mysterious Baltic UFO anomaly... 

For the crew, it was hard to fathom that the entire nine-day underway period searching for shipwrecks in the Baltic Sea has bore no fruit. With an estimated 20,000 shipwrecks, the odds of that happening were astronomical, almost impossible! Yet, here they sat on a miserable January afternoon with nothing at hand. Not only were their frustrations mounting and their bodies aching, there legs were weary from the swollen seas spawned by the blustery Northeast winds. Little did the crew know that their lives were about to change forever?

With one sweep of their fish, the entire navigation suite of Sea Crawler One became a mixture of emotion. At last, the moment they were waiting for throughout their harsh expedition was possibly at hand. Finally, their exploration along the murky depths of the Baltic Sea produced something tangible, something amazing.

"What is that?" Malachi Evans, the ships lead archeologist said, "call the Captain! He may have some idea."

"Captain Alexander, your presence is requested on the bridge," the first mate said into the microphone.

At first, the team could not believe their eyes. The size was immense, a saucer shaped artifact, as big as a 747 is definitely unusual. Circular, smooth edges, rough lines trailing behind, yes, this had to be some type of crash site. That is the only theory that makes sense. The Baltic Roswell, is that what this is? No, that cannot be true; aliens and UFOs are not real, are they? That thought echoed through Malachi's mind as he contemplated the next step.

Surely, this craft could not be a plane, could it? Yes, the Nazi regime World War II, or the Cold War empires of Russia or America did possess unfathomable technology that was held outside the view of the populace, but not one piece of the declassified machinery resembles what lies beneath us. This debris, this relic appears to be almost otherworldly. Could this be the evidence many are searching for? Could this be the proof that we are not some?

There are other options as well, he thought. This platform could be an altar rising from the dreary sea floor, much like Stonehenge rises from the lush green landscapes in England, or as the pyramids tower over the sweltering desert in Egypt.

"Where is the damn Captain?" Malachi yelled, "we need to take a closer look, this side-scan sonar can only give us so much detail."

At that moment, the Captain burst upon the bridge, "what's going on up here?"

"Sir, you have to see this!" Malachi said, "It is incredible."

Puzzled by the excitement, the Captain appeared uneasy, everyone had experienced a shipwreck before, he thought. Silence overtook the bridge as their stoic leader closed in on the machine. What would gee think? What was the next step? Captain Alexander peered into the bright digital display, which was saturated by static from the contour of their strange discovery. A pause, a gasp, he shook his head and focused even closer.

Without raising his head, his eyes still firmly fixated on the artifact, "in all my life I have never..." He said.

Perplexed, he stood back, overwhelmed by the discovery. A proud tear could be seen falling from his swollen eyes, "Malachi, do you have any idea?"

"No sir and I would hate to speculate, we must take a closer look." He replied.

Unfortunately, both he and the Captain realized that would have to wait until spring, when the waters of the Baltic Sea would embrace a dive team or submersible. They would have to document the location, the evidence and hope to secure funding for another expedition.

"Malachi, do not tell anyone what we have found," the Captain said, "document your data and initial thoughts along with the location, while, I make a log entry.”

In haste, the captain turned and scurried toward his sea cabin. Stunned and likely in shock at the conversation they overheard; the bridge crew was left speechless. What was it? What has the Captain so cautious and excited?

Deck Log – January 28, 2012

It was another dreary day on the Baltic, the howling 40-knot winds made it hard for the Quartermaster to maintain course and we were five degrees off our planned search grid. That ended up being a blessing though. For 30-years I led my crew in search of a discovery we could be proud of, something we could tell our grandchildren about and today, we may have found it.

I was in awe when I first saw the remains sunk meters below the dark frigid waters. They were immaculate as they rose from the rugged seabed sitting softly upon the bottom, like an altar awaiting mass. This relic is not of our time or possible our universe, I can tell that. I cannot be certain of what it is, but I know it is unlike anything I have witnessed by these two eyes.

The curvature and dimensions cry out some type of craft, yet, the data is too inconclusive to make an accurate assumption. I know the greatest empires: the Romans, the Greeks, the Byzantines- had marvels that pale in comparison to this beauty. Yet, I cannot help but think this site belongs with those famous wonders. This site belongs to the ancients; this mystery must be solved. -    EA. 1/28/12

While some of the crew would move on, others will return when the weather turns and a more detailed study can be had. For Captain Alexander and Malachi, their search for the truth will never end.

Look At His Pain - A Zombie Attack

“The skulls, not the skull, th-th-they are eating him!”

             “What George, no way!” John said, “They must be mutating… We must find a lab!”

             “I do not know about you, but any type of shelter would be perfect right now,” Richard said.

             “Oh God, they are sharing him; engulfing him,” George sobbed. “Those maggot lovers are drinking his blood!” 

           The revolting sea was indeed devouring him; his screams for assistance drowned by the disturbing sound of his meat being torn apart. They tore him limb from limb until his divine grey was unveiled for the mass. They were fighting each other off for a chance at one piece of his delicious meat. His last chance of survival snuffed out by a single bad decision. What was the world coming to?

            “George, you are right! We must find shelter… Give me time to go through my journals,” John muttered. “The answer must be there, it has to be.”

              “Come on guys, over there,” Richard said, “the cemetery gates are open, maybe we can find a crypt to barricade ourselves into. Maybe the smell of death will keep them away.”
               “Yes… Yes… The cemetery is a great idea Richard,” John said, “our redemption can begin with the Lord!”

               “George... Come quickly before they see you, Paul’s death will allow our escape,” cried Richard.

               “Look, that tomb, the door, that could be perfect!” John said moving through the gates, “there I can hopefully determine where my formula went wrong.”

               “Enough already John; we are in no position to attempt any type of experiment. Maybe once this hoard passes, we can return to our lab by the river,” Richard scoffed. “Maybe we can return to where this plague began.”

               “George, over here!” shouted John as he entered the vault.

               “I’m here, close the door!” George screamed as he took the final steps into the ossuary.

                Richard looked at their situation, “we should be safe here; maybe we will survive this terror.”

          “Maybe,” John replied, “if we are lucky.”

            Incredibly, it appeared as though the tomb may save them, as the undead mob went by instead of searching the cemetery for dinner. What as it that kept them away, was it the overwhelming scent of decay? The scientists sat staring at their temporary sanctuary, thankful to be alive.  They were thankful that they did not become like Paul.

Stay Away

This is a micro (non) fiction piece I did for my latest class, about a rock throwing experience with my friend Sasquatch.

Stay Away 

The southwestern Pennsylvania air was heavy as the oppressive May drought continued to plague the area. Eric and I ventured out in search of the legendary creature that some say inhabits Chestnut Ridge. Crack! A loud crash echoed through the forest; something was there stalking us.

The aroma of death drew us into the dark cave. The musk saturates the den. Random bones litter the darkness. The uneasy feelings grew louder as we ventured deep inside. Deer, rabbit, and mountain lion remains are everywhere; some creature definitely calls this dreary abyss home. Is it just a bear, or is it what we came for: Sasquatch? I thought.

Snap! A branch crashed outside the entrance; the creature was close. We ran toward the dense thicket of pine hoping to see the beast, to force the animal into the clearing. There, we will finally have proof Bigfoot was real. Crack!

 “Look, in the ravine lumbering away.” I said. We could hear the invisible specter that haunts us; we knew he was there. At once, an odd silence cut through the tension mere seconds before the huge sandstone sarsen crashed at our feet. His message was clear: Stay Away!