Oceans of Debt

“This is a waste of time,” Bob grumbled, tossing the book he’d been flipping through aside. “I bet I could catch ten live butterflies for extra credit by lunch.”

JD gave a bored shrug. “I’d hate to count on Sister Jahoosalotta being impressed by some dead bugs glued to a poster board.”

Bob gave the sky outside a wistful look. “Can you imagine if the air just… well, turned to water?”

“What?” JD said, momentarily diverted from his attempt to balance a pencil on his upper lip.

“The sky, dude,” Bob gestured grandly. “Poof. Clouds go soggy, and then SPLASH! We’d be swimming through class. Can you see Jahoosalotta’s face?” He giggled, the thought conjuring images of their stern-faced librarian gulping like a startled goldfish.

Despite the ridiculous scenario, a shiver ran down JD’s spine. He forced a laugh, focusing on the balancing pencil. “That’s just dumb, Bob.”

That night, the joke seemed less funny. Sleep, when it finally came, was a dark, suffocating tide. JD bobbed in a swirling ocean, eyes straining against the murky depth. His lungs heaved, searching for air. Each desperate, useless breath brought only thick, liquid panic into his body. He never really learned how to swim, so was terrified of the water, something his friend didn’t really know.

JD was drowning, thrashing. Wait this wasn’t a dream. He had to get out. Then a burst of light – a hand reaching for his. Panic and darkness battled for control. JD clawed his way back up, gasping and choking. Water poured from his open mouth. He struggled and battered uselessly against his bedroom window.

As the darkness faded to black, a figure leaned over him, a halo of brilliant sunshine outlining a familiar face.

“Breathe, JD,” Bob’s voice broke through the fog in his brain. “You’re okay.”

JD blinked, the dream clinging to him. It didn’t make any sense. It was cold, and he was outside. Beneath him the hard surface of the ship gave him little comfort. He had no idea where he was.

“That was close! I almost thought I lost you” Bob pulled JD to his feet, eyes narrowed with concern. “You were going crazy…thrashing and everything. Luckily we got here when we did.”

He stared at Bob, an eerie sense of unreality settling over him. JD was standing on a ship, looking out over an endlessly dark expanse of water. Spheres the size of hot air balloons hung suspended in the dark sky. They floated slowly, lazily, casting impossibly distorted reflections of the world below.

JD looked at his palms, his arms. Soaked. He tried to dismiss a flicker of his fading nightmare, but a terrible thought bloomed – What if a joke could come true?

On the deck below, two more faces watched in confusion as JD finally stepped out onto the balcony. An elderly man in flowing yellow robes, his white hair and beard striking against his weathered features, stood silently beside a lean, powerful figure – an Asian man, impossibly chiseled face frozen in an expression of tense focus. JD blinked, then blinked again. The Asian man looked…familiar, like someone from a movie.

Then it struck him.

That face. That stance.

It was Bruce Lee.

Fists of Fury

Bob’s shriek shattered the eerie quiet. “Oh man. Oh man. That’s Kwai Chang Caine from, like, Kung Fu. And Bruce Lee! Our Dad’s are NOT going to believe–”

Ignoring his friend’s rising hysteria, JD focused on the two masters. An unspoken signal seemed to pass between them, and an invisible energy crackled in the morning air, martial arts masters and students all gathered, waiting for the coming storm.

Just then, the spheres – whatever they were – pulsed with a sickly green light. Bob stumbled back, a strangled noise escaping his lips. From the shimmering center of a nearby sphere, a creature slithered onto the street. Translucent, its bulbous form shifting grotesquely, it floated on a cushion of pulsating air. A single eye, large and milky, swiveled in their direction. Two clawed tentacles reached out, dripping a noxious fluid that sizzled against the pavement.

The creature lunged with shocking speed. Bruce Lee let out a deafening cry and leapt to intercept it. In a dance of almost inhuman agility, he deflected its blows, his strikes a blur of force and precision. His fists and feet thundered, drawing forth startled yelps from the invading monster. It fell back, regrouping – and then others emerged from the spheres. Two…Three…A whole horde of the glistening horrors poured forward.

A wordless command flickered in Kwai Chang Caine’s eyes. “Protect yourselves,” he urged, his quiet voice steady even as the alien monstrosities closed in. “Stay behind us.”

As if they needed him to tell them. JD and Bob were frozen, faces pale in the growing chaos. They might have sparred during Karate class, but never against things like this.

The old teacher moved, not with Lee’s explosive violence, but with the unhurried grace of a flowing river. Each block, each precise jab, was both art and devastating weapon. The shimmering invaders tried to close in, their alien shrieks tearing the air, but their clumsy claws couldn’t penetrate his defense.

It was then that JD spotted it – a sliver of vulnerability in the pulsating form of the creatures. He grabbed Bob’s wrist, pulling him toward a discarded basketball near the curb. “See those spots? Where the green is brighter?”

Bob blinked, then comprehension dawned. “Like the butterfly’s eye-spots! To scare predators!”

“Yeah, well, let’s see how scared it is of this!” JD hefted a basketball and aimed. Even over the din of the fight, his throw struck true, echoing the dull thump of fists on otherworldly flesh. The sphere-beast reeled, the damaged spot flashing an electric blue.

Inspired, Bob snatched up a half-smashed apple from his backpack. “My turn!” His pitch arced high, rotten fruit splattering across a tentacle-like appendage. The creature writhed back, giving Kwai Chang Caine an opening for a lightning-fast strike to a pulsing bulge on its side.

With a shriek like tearing fabric, it deflated, collapsing into a puddle of sizzling muck.

Armed with an arsenal of abandoned toys and forgotten lunches, JD and Bob became tiny terrors. Tennis balls, rocks, even a forgotten water bottle went whistling through the air. Their clumsy heroism was comical against the backdrop of the deadly duel between man and monster. But there was no denying it; they were making a difference.

Finally, only one pulsing horror remained, cornered between Lee and Kwai Chang Caine. JD couldn’t hear their exchange, the roar of exertion and the hideous cries of the alien drowning out their words. But a single nod from Lee was enough. They stepped aside, forming a corridor and leaving the final enemy facing the old man alone.

Silence fell.

With a single motion, Kwai Chang Caine closed the distance. Not a lunge or a fist, but a fluid, hypnotic movement that flowed around the startled creature. His hands blurred, fingers striking against pulsing nodes. The alien began to shrink, deflate, and vanish before their eyes, leaving only a whispering breeze and a lingering stench of ozone.

It was over.

Breathing hard, the four of them converged on the street. Lee glanced at the sky. In the distance, a colossal disc – sleek, metallic, and utterly menacing – pulsed softly.

“Time to meet the landlord,” he said, a grim amusement twitching on his lips.

Beneath the Alien Sun

Even with Kwai Chang Caine and Bruce Lee as bodyguards, entering the hovering mothership wasn’t quite the thrill ride JD and Bob expected. Despite the sleek curves and glowing panels lining the vast hallways, the atmosphere had a sterile, uncomfortable edge. Every clank of their shoes echoed back with a sense of alien wrongness.

Ahead, Lee pushed aside a shimmering membrane that acted as a doorway. The command center crackled with energy, hundreds of displays blinking in alien configurations. At the center stood a solitary figure – tall, draped in swirling black robes. His back was to them, but an electric crackle shot through the air, radiating from a central disc embedded in his spine.

Kwai Chang Caine stepped forward, his voice strong yet measured. “I am Kwai Chang Caine. My companion is Lee. We come in peace. Your… pets do not.”

The figure turned. There was an undeniable alienness to his features – the smooth, silver-toned skin, the pupil-less eyes – and an unreadable quality to his expression. Yet, there was power there, and a chilling intelligence.

“Aspolin,” the alien answered, his voice a grating buzz through what JD assumed was a translator. “Lord of the Seven Star Systems. These worlds now belong to us.”

“There is always another world,” Kwai Chang Caine replied, his gaze unwavering. “Why this one?”

The alien gestured. In the corner of the vast space, a holographic globe shifted into focus. It shimmered and changed, the land continents twisting into strange new shapes. Then the air vanished, replaced by shimmering blue. Earth became a water world.

“The inhabitants of my realms require…sustenance,” Aspolin rumbled. “Your atmosphere suits us. Transformation has begun.”

JD’s blood ran cold. Bob whimpered in horror. Just then, a voice cut through the air.

“Father! Wait!”

In the doorway stood a girl. Petite, with silver-gold hair pulled into intricate coils, she was clearly of Aspolin’s kind. But beneath the strange beauty, there was a defiant warmth in her eyes.

“Lilith,” Aspolin spoke softly, but there was a flicker of unease in his voice.

With a glance at JD and Bob, Lilith said, “Their world… I’ve studied it. They have songs, poetry, and creatures as diverse as our own oceans. Such richness should be explored, not destroyed.”

JD felt a desperate flicker of hope. Bob just gaped openly, the first stirrings of a heroic boyhood crush lighting up his eyes.

Aspolin regarded his daughter, his inscrutable eyes revealing nothing. Finally, he turned back to Kwai Chang Caine, an alien sigh escaping his lips. “Your world is unusual. It has defenders.”

He stretched out a hand, and the image of Earth swirled back, its oceans shrinking and continents reforming. Aspolin continued, “The transformation was incomplete. It can be reversed. The memory of this day will fade…all but for these,” he flicked a gaze at JD and Bob. “Do not betray my generosity.”

His hand swiped and then…nothingness.

And then, everything.

It was their school library, the sun slanting through the same blinds as always. Bob slumped in a beanbag, an unfinished butterfly lifecycle book open on his lap.

“Man, was that a dream or what?” he said, then paused, tilting his head at JD. “Hey, you look funny, man. Are you still freaked out by that water thing?”

Water thing? He felt a jolt, a surge of forgotten images. Then a flash of silver hair, alien eyes…Lilith.

Bob grinned, oblivious. “I wouldn’t mind meeting that Aspolin dude back in the cafeteria though. Pretty sure I could kick his butt.” He started flipping aimlessly through his book.

A surge of protective panic filled JD. “No! Just…stop looking at those butterflies. Let’s get some air.”

Bob shot him a confused look, but shrugged and followed. Stepping out onto the playground, he glanced across the blacktop, and spotted an unfamiliar girl watching them. She was pretty, and had unusual shimmery blonde hair…

A sly elbow caught JD in the ribs. “Dude,” Bob hissed,”Check it out. New girl. Think I’ll go for my butterfly net later.”

Then, the new girl smiled, and JD completely forgot about water nightmares, alien overlords, and even those darned butterflies. He grinned back. Today was the beginning of a brand new kind of adventure.

EPILOGUE: Echoes Across Time

Bob rubbed his hands together, blowing out a long breath. “Well, it’s just a silly short story, honey,” he tried to reassure his wife, the concern crinkling the corners of her eyes obvious. “No one will take it seriously. It’s called ‘Oceans of Debt’…get it? Plays on words and stuff.”

“Yes, dear,” she replied patiently, patting his shoulder. “Of course I understand. But these dreams you’ve been having… I just worry, that’s all.”

Thirty years was a long time to keep a secret. Especially one filled with kung-fu masters, aliens, and near planetary catastrophe. But a promise was a promise, and JD and Bob hadn’t spoken a word of it to anyone. Not even to each other.

Until those dreams began. Recurring nightmares almost identical to the events of that long-ago day. Bob knew this; this time, silence wasn’t enough. There was an urge growing within him, a desire to unburden himself. Maybe there was more at stake than he’d realized. This ‘story’ had a life of its own. So, Bob had begun posting the chapters on social media, carefully labeled as fiction. It started small, just a few followers interested in his far-fetched ideas.

Then, a notification caught his eye. A new commenter, with an avatar of stylized swirling stars, simply had written:

The debt was paid by one of lesser station… But is the balance truly settled?

A chill ran down Bob’s spine. Those eyes… that unsettling buzz of alien intent. The post didn’t come from one of his regular readers, or some internet troll. It felt…personal. As if the barrier between fantasy and reality was beginning to crack.

A wave of uncertainty washed over him. Had releasing his story into the wild been a terrible mistake? He wanted to delete the post, maybe scrub the whole story from existence.

Then a picture flashed through his mind. Lilith, her gaze filled with both pleading and determination. And Aspolin, relenting amidst the cold grandeur of his command center. They’d made a choice that day, one that saved his world. Bob owed them this. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he framed a reply:

The payment may have been small, but the ripple effect was great. Some balances were shifted. Who’s to say what the future holds?

Bob clicked ‘send’, and waited, the cursor on the screen pulsing as if it had a heartbeat of its own. What had he done?