SAM PROSSER
Sam Prosser is a recent graduate with a degree in psychology and sociology from the University of Bath Spa in the Southwest of England. Not only does he delve into the intricacies and nuances of the human mind during the day, but he also weaves elaborate tales of his own whenever the stars align.
In the moments of free time which he manages to carve out, Sam can be found dedicated to penning his debut book, Memoirs of a Romantic—a compelling and true story of love and adventure from the perspective of his seventeen-year-old self. The story follows as Sam meets a girl on a college trip to Slovenia, and the unforgettable day they shared together before Sam returned home. Weeks of online talks and calls ensue before he finally builds up the confidence to return to Slovenia. Despite warnings from his friends and the lack of awareness from his parents, Sam sets off on his own to reunite with his holiday crush. The trip takes a few unexpected turns, however, as he finds himself stranded in Italy on Easter Sunday with no transportation and his debit card restricted. His only hope is to hitchhike the one hundred miles between him and his destination. Seventeen and alone in a foreign country, Sam must make some difficult decisions if he is to make it to her in time. Ultimately, Memoirs of a Romantic is a tale of isolation, persistence, and the naivety that comes with love.
Sam’s main interests with literature lie with the larger-than-life fantasy stories such as Harry Potter, Game of Thrones, and Mistborn, among many others. But Sam has always been a sucker for the captivating stories told in film, games, anime, and manga, and expresses a desire to one day work on projects that bring stories to life.
As Sam embarks on a career in psychology, he aspires to fulfil a lifelong ambition by leaving his own indelible mark on the world of literature. Whether it is poetry, fantasy, sci-fi, or romance, Sam is full of ideas that he dreams of putting onto paper.
WHISPERS ON THE AIR: THE FORGOTTEN PLANET
The air in the room trembled as she entered; her every step echoed through the floor.
‘This one seems worse,’ she shouted through the door behind her. A soft reply ricocheted back as she turned on a flashlight. ‘Much worse,’ she whispered to herself, as the light illuminated cracks and holes in the walls.
She touched the air where the record button was on her screen, restarting a video through the camera in her visor. ‘Early indications pointed toward three and a half thousand years due to the corrosion on the outer walls. But…’ she squatted down and tapped the floor with the edge of the flashlight, which rang out with an echo, ‘parts of the structure are hollow, as if only the inside has begun to corrode.’ She paused, lingering on her words, ‘which doesn’t make any sense.’
Behind her, footsteps thumped along a narrow hall. ‘Doctor?’ A man’s voice asked.
‘Captain,’ she replied as she stood, ‘our early predictions of the structure may be off,’ she continued, ‘parts seem new but are hollow, while other parts have completely degraded. I really couldn’t say what the difference is.’
‘This entire planet gives me the creeps,’ the captain replied, ‘just—run your scans and get back to the outpost. I need you looking at the atmospherics.’ He looked back at the doctor, ‘and why do you insist on always wearing your helmet?’
She put her scanner into a bag and pulled out a small device. ‘You know,’ she said, choosing to ignore his question, ‘whether this structure is alien or not, it really doesn’t make any sense.’ She turned on the device and placed it on the ground. ‘The alloy is tougher than the hull on our ship, yet parts of it are hollow, like,’ she paused, ‘termites have been at it.’ She looked back at the captain. ‘Seriously, parts of this structure seem new, John, completely untouched.’
A beep from the device caught their attention. The captain walked inside the room and read the screen with the doctor. ‘We’re going,’ he said. ‘Now!’ He tapped the comms button on his wrist device. ‘All personnel, evacuate immediately. We’re heading to the landing vessel!’
‘I don’t understand,’ the doctor said. ‘The scanners detected no life?’
A confused man approached as they left the structure, ‘what about the equipment?’ He asked, irked.
‘It’s a microorganism, scanners from the ship wouldn’t have picked it up,’ the captain said. He looked at the man, still walking, ‘leave everything, we’re up in 60 seconds.’
‘But why are we evacuating?’ The doctor replied, now standing still. ‘There’s nothing that says it harms people, we should examine it further or we’ll risk bringing a contagion onboard the ship.’
‘It’s in the air, Jess!’ The captain yelled. ‘It’s been eating at the hull of our landing vessel – if we wait any longer then we’re never making it off this fucking rock!’
The sudden realisation hit her as the light from the two suns briefly broke through the fog. ‘Fuck.’
They ran to catch up with the captain and followed him into the vessel. Two others had already stowed away their computers and were stood waiting, somewhat confused.
‘Strap in!’ The captain ordered them.
‘Do it,’ the doctor restated as she entered, ‘this planet has an organism which eats inorganic matter.’
‘Shit,’ one of them said. A nervous realisation dawned on him. ‘The fog?’
The doctor gave him a concerned look, ‘possibly.’
The group strapped themselves in and the captain took off, with no choice but to pass through the thick fog as he made his ascent.
‘Roland,’ the captain said, ‘set a course for the ship. Freya, prepare decontamination procedures.’
‘On it, Cap.’ They both replied.
‘I don’t get it,’ Jess said quietly, ‘if the structure is human, then what is it doing this far out of the system?’
‘We can worry about that later.’ The captain said as the vessel climbed higher.
Strong winds wobbled the vessel as the G-force from the acceleration pushed them into their seats. The turbulence increased to a fierce shake as warning lights from the ship flashed red. Jess held her breath and clenched her eyes shut. The ascent felt longer than usual as her heart pounded violently against her chest. Slowly, the turbulence subsided as they left the atmosphere and were welcomed by the vastness of space.
‘Masks everyone,’ the captain called out. ‘There may be a hull…’ a sudden crack formed, then instantaneously expanded, tearing the roof off. Jess watched on, helpless, as her colleagues suffocated.
A reflection from the ship flashed in her visor, almost in reach. Then, all at once, the vessel lost forward momentum, caught in the orbit of the planet.
Jess unbuckled herself from her seat and kicked off in the direction of the captain. She grabbed his chair and spun herself around. His face had already begun to swell as the lack of pressure caused the fluids in his body to expand. She looked around for his helmet, there’s still time, there’s still time, she told herself. But the helmet was nowhere to be seen. She placed a hand on the edge of her helmet but hesitated. Her heart stopped for a moment. What’s there to save? She thought, realising the severity of the damage. She lowered her shaking hand. Her heart tightened as she struggled to breathe.
‘I’m sorry John, I’m sorry,’ she wept. Her tears blemished the visor of her helmet as she cried out his name to deaf ears. The other crewmembers saw a similar death; their blood vessels burst, and the solar radiation fried their skin. Jess violently shook her head, looked up to the ship, and kicked off. The image of their distorted faces haunted her.
‘Control,’ she said softly, still struggling to breathe properly. ‘I need you to manoeuvre the ship to collect me. I’m drifting off your starboard side.’
‘Understood, Doctor Michaels.’ A robotic voice replied. ‘Time to collection: seventy-six seconds.’
Jess tried to steady her breathing as she drifted, her stomach churned at the thought of the faces she had left behind.
‘Before you left,’ the robotic voice inquired, ‘you wagered a bet with the captain. May I ask who won the bet, doctor?’
She clenched her eyes and squeezed her mouth closed. The decision to investigate the planet consumed her thoughts. ‘I did.’ She said meekly.
‘Congratulations.’
Sam Prosser © 2024
