Tired of reading stories with boring old teens, high schools, magic, parallel universes and the most cliché of all—human characters? This is a writing exercise to avoid all of that unsightly cliché-ness! Hmph!

Winner of the Just Different contest on BeyondSol and featured on their Spatium Austero anthology. I wrote over 2,500 words, but had to whittle it down to fit the 1000-word rule.

Prompt: Create a planet which is in no way (or the least way) similar to the Earth!

It started out as just another day on Makaral. I flexed my bulked up arm and swung my massive club at the Karavil that endangered the lives of my kin.

The Karavil's humongous rotary wings whipped up a tornado of debris and flattened the vegetation. The club missed the mark by an inch, and its seventh limb swiped at my exposed thorax. I let out a bellow of pain as blue blood spurted from my wound.

"Stay away from us, you freak!" I yelled.

"I didn't catch that," the Karavil droned, hovering just out of reach.

"That's 'cause your crappy ears have the acoustic range of a panispoon!" I hurled a few curses.

With a planet-shattering scream, I launched myself into the air and swung my club again. I watched the Karavil's many optical sensors widen, flashing me a reflection of myself. I was a formidable sight—at least, the side of me that was twisted in anticipation of the colossal impact.

It came in a nanosecond.

The Karavil crashed to the ground with a sickening crunch, and its wings crumpled. Then I thudded to the ground and rolled to a stop. I surveyed the fallen form. It didn't move.

My whole body heaved with exertion as I sprawled on the ground and stared at the violet sky. This was indeed just another day at Makaral, the fifth planet of the Haal system. It wasn't like those boring spherical planets. Makaral was a cubic planet with bits sticking out to break the clean geometry.

I stretched out my gossamer filaments and unfurled my delicate sail to soak in the sunlight. While my system recharged, I watched a worm crawl out of a hole in the ground. Its filmy, purple skin stood out on the carpet of yellow needleleaf. I squashed it. Another worm arrived to inspect the mess. I squashed that one too.

I scrambled to my feet again. I shouldn't be taking breaks when my village was in danger.

Soon afterwards, I galloped down the hill to my village, where sails glinted on roofs as they soaked up the sun's rays. I spied a fellow warrior fighting off another Karavil in the distance, her battle arm heavy with bulging muscle.

The Karavils were a never-ending menace, and no one knew how they originated. The war between the Karavils and us Labu was as old as time.

Wind whipped me as I picked up speed, and I practically flew as if I were one with nature. Pink cactuses dotted the landscape, adorned with elaborate blooms.

Suddenly, I tripped.

I fell through a hole covered with needleleaf. As I slid down the muddy shaft, I cursed the Karavil for their underhand methods. What honor can I expect from savages?

The light disappeared like the snuffing of a flame. I bumped along the way in the darkness, and the whistling in my ears intensified as I fell further into the bowels of Haal. Pain flared up. I pondered my life—nothing but a stream of agony interspersed with fleeting moments of joy.

I hit the ground with jarring abruptness, knocking the air out of my lungs.

Silence pressed on all sides like an oppressive veil. I focused my eyes into the gloom, though my vision was not as keen as the Karavils. One of them could be watching me now.

I waited. Nothing pounced on me.

It occurred to me that it made no sense for Karavils to dig this hole—they were creatures of the skies. The hand of curiosity tightened within, urging me to explore this unknown location right next to my village.

The next second, I started the laborious climb back to the surface. One would have to be as thick as a Karavil to blindly traverse dark tunnels underground.

"Child, why do you leave with such haste?"

I started. "Who are you? Reveal yourself!"

A wizened individual sat cross-legged on the ground. "I'm the Sage."

Gazing at his white beard, I turned up my olfactory glands in disdain. He looked like a classic mentor figure. At least, he wasn't as bad as those silly adolescents, who were kept away from the public eye—the last thing I wanted was one of those to ruin my epic tale.

"What's your name, child?" the Sage asked.

"Kanda."

"I see you're disturbed."

"No shit, Sage. I'm restless because my new pot of sunmoss isn't growing well." I paused. "Other than that, there's this war with the Karavils."

"You seek to win this war?"

"Duh."

He produced a vial.

I goggled at it. "Of course—some magical legendary item to solve the world's problems. You expect me to do some wannabe-dangerous quest to win that?"

"This is not magic." He proffered it with both hands. "It's just an airborne virus that would destroy the Karavils."

"That's easy."

"Why should it be hard?"

Struck by the wisdom, I grabbed the vial and took my leave.

Back under the violet skies, I cursed my enemies and resumed my run to show my brethren the newly acquired weapon. Amorphous dwellings loomed in the distance, decorated with vibrant patches of sunmoss.

Then it happened.

I could only stare as death came upon me—in the form of a worm.

Its glistening maw swallowed me whole, and I soon realized my struggles were in vain. Claustrophobic folds of flesh clutched me in a deathly embrace. I slid down its monstrous slime-coated esophagus, putrid stench clogging my nose.

How dare you!

The words rumbled through me like that of an omnipresent deity. My innards threatened to turn to pulp at the mounting pressure—as great as that of the Kakiry Trench in the deepest waters of Hodi.

How dare you squash my children!

Just like that, the weapon to win the war was lost. As I shuttered my eyes, I had a second to ponder the fact that karma was a bitch.

Word Count: 988