(Hey guys, sorry I haven’t been very active this last week. Been super busy with school and other stuff, which is ironic since this is supposed to be my Spring Break!!! Anyway, my cryptids post is coming, but a spark of inspiration hit me and I felt like I had to do this. The above image is concept art of a scrapped ending to Jurassic Park in which Hammond decides to stay behind on the island. Fellow dinosaur blogger Raptor Dash talked a bit about this, and thought it would be cool if someone wrote a short story to expand the idea. So, I decided to put it upon myself to do so. Hope you enjoy!)
The helicopter was almost out of sight by now, with only a small dot in the distance signifying it’s presence. The more he looked at it, the more shame he felt inside. More people could have been on that helicopter. More people should have been on that helicopter. More people should be going home now, safe with their family and friends. Back to their jobs, to their uneventful yet beautiful every day life.
But instead, people died.
Good people, people who only wanted to be a part of something fantastic.
Something that would change the world.
But they are gone now.
And he knew it was all his fault.
The old man walked through the devastated remains of all his hard work. What wasted potential. This island was almost the home of the greatest achievement in the history of mankind. But it barely got to see the light of day before things went terribly wrong. He wasn’t even able to show to the world the perfection he had created, because the seams were exploited before he could even prove it. He could point fingers all he wanted. He could tell himself that it was all Nedry’s fault, and if given another chance the park could become a success. But he knew better.
What could I have done differently?
Was there anything I could have done?
All I wanted to do was bring joy to the world.
Hammond eventually found himself in an open clearing, surrounded by jungles and mountains at all sides. It was evening, and the sun would pass over the horizon any moment now. The soothing songs of the brachiosaurs filled the air. John listened to the beautiful cries, and remembered just how majestic his creations are. Why should something so beautiful not be shared with the world? Is there anything wrong with that? What is the harm of ambition?
Then he remembered them.
Lex and Tim.
What was meant to be a harmless expedition on the island turned into a fight for survival. The trip was meant to be fun, but they almost died. Lex and Tim, his own family.
He began to contemplate if this were to happen if the park was actually opened. How many children would he have put in danger if such a catastrophe would to happen then? How many children would have been killed? The same children he gained so much pleasure in entertaining?
John began staggering on his feet, the very thought of it making him sick. He lowered himself and sat on the dirt of the field, as the wind began to hit him in the face. He lowered his head and began to cry. The cries turned into sobbing, as streams of tears ran down his face.
All I wanted to do was make people smile.
Instead I created a graveyard.
The sun lowered below the horizon, and darkness covered the island. The entire atmosphere of the island seemed to change. Hammond could here the sound of animals in the forest, growing ever restless. The cries of multiple species of dinosaurs could now be heard, all calling out to each other. The songs of the brachiosaurs, the honking of the parasaurs, the grunts of the Triceratops.
The roar of the T. rex.
John knew exactly what would happen this night. Not only did he create a graveyard, he created his own grave. He knew he was going to die tonight.
But he didn’t care.
After all is said and done, this place was his. He was this land’s father. Ending up anywhere but here in the end would be a major injustice to those who have died because of him. So he stayed behind, knowing all too well what would happen come nightfall. But it was alright, because it was the right thing to do.
The captain will go down with his ship.
John couldn’t think of a more befitting place to meet his end, among his own creations. However, in a twisted corner in the back of his mind, he knew he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
So, is this what it’s like to be God? Scared of his own creation?