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157: The Journey West 158: Whispers Of Horrosaurs,
Fear Of Mech-Dragons  Post: 09.30.2007Date: 11.23.2196 Time: Morning The Journey West I'm riding in the Scorp. It hums across the landscape. My feet ache, and I want 2-85 to come up here and rub them, but the wirewitches never ride. We're tired, all of us, but that's to be expected when you've walked as many miles as we have. I seem to get tired faster than almost everybody else. Any day now I expect somebody to come up to me and complain that I've been riding to much. Nobody's done it so far--not even nin(9), and she's the one most likely to point out my shortcomings. Guess that's what family's for. I'm not an expert at geography, but I know a little of what lies ahead. The desert doesn't really stop till we hit the ocean, but we are approaching the western mountain ranges. They're probably our biggest obstacle before Black Vale Six. Correction. Our biggest known obstacle. I'm certain something will come up and try to prevent us from reaching out goal. The base, animalistic parts of me--perhaps the parts of me that are most motherly--want to glitch Black Vale Six, turn right, and head toward the northern Wastelands, take the fight straight toward the monster who claims to have my daughter. I've been a mother for over two months now, and I've held my daughter less than half that time. I need to hold her again. (too bad she's already dead and you're next it's a trap) No. I won't, I can't let myself believe that. Hope is the thinnest of threads, but I'm holding onto it with all I have left. Best not to think about it too much during the journey. Hard not to, but it's better if I keep myself distracted. Fortunately, there's a lot to distract me--just not while I'm riding on the Scorp with nothing to do except watch mile after mile of desert creep away behind us. I stand up, stretching my legs. Most of the others riding in the Scorp are sleeping. Best way to pass the time during a shift as passenger. I drop my hood back to my shoulders. Sweat sticks my hair to the back of my neck. There's no breeze in the desert, but the forward movement of the Scorp sends warm air across my face, blowing strands, cooling heated skin. JACK is walking beside us. She's the only wirewitch nearby. The others are scouting ahead with a few of nin(9)'s guards. The guards keep up somehow. Best to know what's ahead of us before we get there. We haven't had any real trouble so far, and it's been over three weeks since we left. We've kept our distance from most of the settlements we've passed. There are only a few major population centers in this area. According to van(9)nis, the closest one is Zeroville, and it's a hundred miles south of our current position. Our path through the west does force us to go through Mountainhead Z, but they say that there aren't any problems as long as you can pay the toll. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I turn to look behind us. Driftlings trail out behind the Scorp for several hundred feet. Black and brown cloaks contrast against the dry, gray ground. Behind us, the uneven land is cracked and cut. There's not much alive out here except for us. Vegetation is sparse. At least once a day somebody calls out that they saw some creature off in the distance. It's sort of a game to pass the time I guess. Yeah, everybody's tired. I sit back down. I should get some sleep since I'll be walking again in a couple hours. cyn(7)dar is one of those sleeping in the Scorp. His head rests on his backpack. His hair is wild against his cheek and neck. Yeah, he's pretty. I can't deny that. We've kept our distance ever since (3)ela was born. I'm pretty sure he assumes I've been sleeping with one of the warlocks, and that warlock is the father my baby. I haven't done anything to dissuade him of that notion. We just haven't talked. I can't even think of where to begin. What I remember happening between us back on the island was real. I can remember it too vividly for it not to be. Unfortunately, even with as intimate as we were, it only makes him a potential father. Too much contact with wirewitches will do that to a girl. Makes things all confusing and mixed-up. I turn back around so I'm facing into the future. Peering into the distance, the landscape shimmers in the morning heat. The ground seems to drop away before too long, and I can see mountains in the distance. Gonna take us a month to hit the western coast as long as we don't get held up somewhere. Probably gonna get held up. I let my mind wander, and wander it does. Right to Kiiziiziixii. Haven't had much to think about what might have happened to her, and where she might have gone. She tore the Haven apart and left. Simple as that, it seems. She didn't even say goodbye. Something about that doesn't feel right, but I guess I didn't know her that well when it all came down. Our paths crossed for a time, and now they're separate again. I know she never really felt comfortable in Athara, but I never got around to asking her about it. It was just one of those things. Life got more complicated in Athara. Didn't have the strength to take on everybody else's problems. God knows I got enough of my own. (others have your problems too) Mind wanders some more. I think about the MIU I've got hidden in my backpack. The one that only shea(3)va and JACK know I brought. I'm thinking about how I'm going to sneak away and use it again. See what happens. Soon. I sit down and wipe dust from my eyes. cyn(7)dar shifts to get more comfortable. I think he's awake, and I think he was looking at me. His eyes are closed now, but his breathing's too quick for him to be asleep. Glitch. The Scorp slows a little, so I stand back up to see why. At first I think we're slowing because we're approaching a cliff--because surely that's what that wound in the ground is--but it's not exactly a cliff. Not exactly. My mouth is suddenly dry. I step over cyn(7)dar and jump from the back of the moving Scorp. It's not entirely graceful, but I stay on my feet, and that's what's important. When the Scorp stops, everybody stops. Jogging forward I wave to the driver. The whine of the Scorp's engine lessens and the vehicle slows. Up ahead, the wirewitch and black-cloaked guard scouts stand at the edge of where the desert ceases to be flat and boring and becomes broken and interesting, Or maybe that should be broken and scary. Might be more accurate. I come to a stop beside 2-85. "That first step is intense," he says. I look down. Into the desert. Or rather, where the desert was, and now there's only an enormous crater. "What happened here?" one of nin(9)'s guards whispers. Nobody answers. Instead, we all stand there staring a crater that is at least five hundred meters across. The ground is gray and lifeless. The crater drops from the flat of the desert at a steep incline, uneven and full of jagged gulfs and valleys, as if giant fingers had raked the earth, digging deep, ugly furrows. "I don't know, but it happened recently," 2-85 says. "Less than ten days ago." "This wasn't caused by an explosion, was it?" I ask. "No," 2-85 says, shaking his head. "It was something else. The ground looks...eaten away." "Dissolved," I say, and I really don't like the waver in my voice as I do it. "Where's PIIX?" JACK asks quietly as she walks up behind us. 2-85 doesn't turn around. He grabs my hand though. "She will be returning shortly." "Here she comes," 7-07 says, eyes scanning the far side of the crater. I see a blur of movement. She's moving as fast as ground-based vehicle I've ever seen. Wirewitches can move very quickly when they need to. Her hairstalks stream out behind her as she runs, tossed on air disturbances of her own making. She slows as she approaches us, her breath steady. "What have you seen?" JACK asks. PIIX makes eye contact with 7-07 and some moment passes between them, but then it's gone and her voice is coarse and flat when she replies, "I didn't see anything that could have caused this crater, or any of the others." "Others?" I ask, hoping I'd heard wrong. PIIX looks down at me and her eyes are azure stone, as if I'm a bug to be stepped on. "because I just searched this area--ten miles in every direction except the direction we came from--and there are no less than twenty craters like this one. And this is a small one." "How big is one of the big ones?" JACK asks. PIIX shakes her head. "I don't know. I ran along the edge of one for five miles before I turned back and returned here." "Glitch," I say, thinking of DevilGOD's warning. ...they have opened the cages of their minions... "Yes, I think it would be best if we never encounter the creature or force that did this," PIIX says. "The cages are open," I mutter under my breath, but I think everybody near hears me, and the look on their faces confirms it. |
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Post: 10.27.2007 Date: 11.26.2196 Time: Afternoon Whispers of Horrosaurs, Fear of Mech-Dragons Hot beneath the hood drooped over my face. Sweat beading on my forehead, the side of my nose. Staring at the odd, reddish tint to the ground between the heels of my boots. Elbows on my knees. Ache in my stomach is hunger I guess, or longing for my daughter. Odor in my nose is mostly me, partly shea(3)va sitting next to me, shoulder and thigh to mine. Comfort in proximity, as it's always been with me. The sister I don't deserve, and don't remember. Not sure why she tolerates who and what I am. If I could cry, thoughts of our friendship through her sacrifices would have my eyes leaking downpours most of the day. Un Town That's what the sign fifty meters off to my left says at least. Both of us think the "Un" on the sign used to read "Fun." I briefly try to recall the last time I had fun. Maybe something to do with 2-85... Here we are, sitting in the slim shade of a naked, withering tree, doing nothing except listening and waiting. "We're not going to find out anything here," I mutter. The heat is making me irritable. Should it really be this hot this late in the year. Not sure what the exact date it, but I'm pretty glitched sure that it's supposed to be colder. Glitched Comet glitched up all the weather on this planet, and now we all either sweat or freeze. "You didn't have to come," shea(3)va's voice is muffled beneath her hood, but the underlying current of excess patience with me is evident. I sigh. "Yeah, I did. Didn't like all the looks nin was giving me. Like I'm guilty." "Guilty of what?" "Not sure. Nothing. Everything." (More everything than nothing, angel) "One day you'll tell me everything that's happened between you and her, won't you?" I look over at her. One hand is toying with the blod (mat) ring on her other hand. "Yeah, probably." "That's good enough for me," she says after a moment. "Or at least, it's good enough for now." "Good," I say. "A little more patience, syl. We may still discover something useful here. Not all information is discovered. Sometimes it has to come to you." We're here in Un Town to find out anything we can about the craters and what made them. It's been three days since we first saw the craters, and we haven't stopped seeing them. They're all along our path, and there are two just outside of town. It's almost as they know where we're going, almost as if they're leading us. But that doesn't make much sense. If my fears are true, and what made the craters are the minions DevilGOD talked about, then shouldn't we have already been attacked? Don't they know where I am? Just don't know enough to answer any of these questions. That's what we're trying to do here. The tree--if that's what it was at one time--we're sitting beneath grows out of a mound of dirt and sand. On either side of us, two low, one-level structures look as if they are rapidly falling apart. The one shiny metal siding is rusted, eaten away by age and acid rain. The roofs are drooping, patched with a wide variety of materials--an unpainted patchwork finish waiting for some strong storm to take it all away. All the buildings in Un Town look like this--low, aged, and beaten. There's one exception to that. At the end of the town's sole, dirt street is a single, structure that is so pristine, so unblemished, so...alien, that I'm inclined to think I'm just imagining it. It's been painted black. The surface is glossy though, somehow impervious to the dust and sand that beats at its surface on a daily basis. The black building is one level higher than all the others, and there's a balcony that rings the second level--though there are no visible doors. "What goes on in there?" I muse. shea(3)va looks over, somehow intuiting what I'm referring to. "We probably don't want to find out. Most likely, it's somebody with a lot of power and money. The ruler of the town maybe." There can't be more than twenty structures in the entire town. The people on the town are dressed in long, ragged clothes. They don't look completely defeated though. Mind tells me they just want left alone to their fates. shea(3)va and I were noticed at once when we entered town, but we haven't been approached yet, even though several of the town's residents have walked by. Since we've been here for almost an hour without being confronted, I'm assuming that sitting under a dying tree doesn't violate some town edict. Footsteps in dirt behind us. Can't resist; I look over my shoulder. There are two of them. A boy and a girl. Young. Yet the boy is probably almost as tall as I am. The girl is shorter than the boy by half a head. Though mostly free of dirt, his clothes are ripped in several places, old, worn material fraying everywhere, gray and red, Her clothes look newer, cleaner, brighter, blue and white. He's wearing a knit cap, but her golden hair streams down from her head like rainwater. They're holding hands. Either they haven't noticed us, or their simply ignoring. The boy turns his head, as if ashamed of something. The girl reaches up, palm to his cheek, and rotates his head back till it's facing her again, their eyes locking like two magnets coming into alignment. Then, of course, their faces come together, so tender that my heart aches. Can't, shouldn't watch that. I look down, over at shea(3)va. She looked too, and now I see a longing in her eyes that wasn't there before. Find myself looking back at the two, their passion too tantalizing to resist. Up against the wall now, the girl pushes her body against the boy, his arms pulling her to him. Just two lovers alone in... (an alley. a kiss given. a kiss received.) I shudder under the memory and the sensations that wash over me. I'm sweating under my cloak, but gooseflesh ripples my arms. "You okay," shea(3)va asks in a whisper. I nod, unable to stop peering from under my hood at the embracing entities. It's dirty and voyeuristic, but there's nothing I can do. The kiss ends slowly. Breathless against each other, she rests her head against his chest, while he strokes her hair with one hand. The girl is looking right at us, but not truly seeing us, drunk in the haze of her arousal. "How long do we have?" the boy asks, his hand obsessive, combing her hair. The girl hugs him tighter. "Not long." "Then you should go back. I don't want to risk you--" "No," the girl says. "They won't notice right away. We have a few more minutes." They cling to each other for several quiet moments. Just as I'm turning away, the girl says, "I'm scared." "I know. Don't worry." The girl's eyes are a little more alert now, her fear overcoming her passion. "I think we were really close to dying. All of us." "Yes, but we're safe now." "What if they come back?" I'm slow, but I'm realizing that they're not talking about their parents, or whoever it is that doesn't want the dirty boy pressing his lips to the clean girl's. The boy tries to inject some confidence into his assurances, "They're not coming back. You saw where those things went. All of them went the same way." shea(3)va's paying attention now. "Take me away from here," the girl pleads. "Someplace safe." "I don't know if--" "I love you," the girl says. "Let's just go away someplace where I can do that in safety. Someplace far away, where we can't see the craters." Then my vision fills with the back of shea(3)va's cloak. She's walking toward the boy and the girl. Standing, catching up, moving to one side but a little behind, hoping we're not too intimidating. The boy immediately shoves the girl behind him and reaches for something at his waist. The girl does a similar movement. shea(3)va stops, holds up her hands. "What made the craters?" The boy is debating whether her question is some sort of distraction. He's holding something in his hand, something metal and probably sharp. "Show us your faces right now," the girl says. She's standing beside the boy now, and it's clear she's going to protect him from us, and that she really doesn't need as much protecting as she led me to believe. shea(3)va taps my shoulder, and raises the front flap of her hood enough that they can see her face. Me, I pull the whole hood back, spilling my hair into the wild. The sweat on my forehead cools as I brush a wave of blue out of my eyes. Feels good. "Who are you?" the boy asks. "Relax," the girls says, her hand snaking out to rest on the boy's neck, her fingers moving quickly, expertly. The boy's expression calms almost immediately. "These two were not sent by my mother." "We're just passing through," shea(3)va says. "Everywhere we go, we see the craters. We're travelling west, and there are more and more craters the farther we go. We're worried. We need to know more. We need to know if we're in danger. Can you help us?" The girl's eyes flick back and forth between us. Her hand, the one by her side makes a small movement. There's a brief glint of metal, as whatever she was holding disappears. "Let's go," the boy says to the girl. "I'll take you anywhere you want." The girl pulls the boy closer into a one-armed hug. She keeps her other hand free though. She doesn't think we're a threat, but a girl can never be too careful, right? Find myself wondering whether I could best her in a fight. The automatic me wishes it would have the chance to find out. I decide that I wouldn't want to risk losing. This girl is dangerous. Her confidence is blatant and scary. The boy says, "They're called mech-dragons." (no, they're called Horrosaurs, angel) The girl closes her eyes, as if she's being forced to be patient with a child, but she nods her head. "Somebody called them that, and now everybody here does. Truth is, they're not dragons at all." "What are they then?" I ask. The girl ignores me, or maybe she's intentionally not answering my question. "They came during the day, in full sunlight. They fell from the sky. Black spheres. Eggs of some sort I guess, because the...mech-dragons came out of them. The earth just dissolved wherever they landed. Created all those craters you've seen." "How big were the eggs?" shea(3)va asks. The girl shrugs. "Maybe a meter across." "And how big where the mech-dragons that came out of them?" "Well, they started out small. They grew. Some of the people in town think they didn't grow, but merged instead--combined to form a larger creature. The biggest one we saw walked right through town. It was at least three meters tall. Why?" shea(3)va gives me a glance, and I know exactly what she's thinking. "Because," she says, "the craters outside this town are the some of the smallest we've seen. Your craters are only several meters across." "How big are the ones you've seen?" the boy asks. "Too glitched big," shea(3)va says. "Miles across." The boy swears under his breath. The girl is silent, but she does hold him tighter. "Did the creatures attack the town?" shea(3)va asks. "No," the girl answers. "Everybody is scared, but nobody was hurt." The boy starts pulling the girl back. "You're out of time. You have to go." "What do they look like?" I ask. "Let's go, syl," shea(3)va says. "We have all the information we need. And this young girl needs to get back to her home." "Tell me what they look like," I say. "I need to know." The boy pauses. "It was...dark. I don't..." "You said they came in the daylight," I say to the girl. "Let it go, sis," shea(3)va says. "Don't you want to know too?" I ask. My blod (sis) shakes her head, drops her hood over her forehead, hiding her eyes from me. "Please. Tell me," I plead. The girl turns away, but just before she lets the boy lead her away, she answers me: "For some reason Un Town was spared, but the rumors come back to us--that everywhere else they go, they leave only annihilation. Each of us pray that there aren't more to the east, because all the ones here moved west. If you're headed that direction, then you're headed straight toward your death. As for what they look like...what does it matter? They're nightmares of machine and beast and if what you've told us is true--about how many craters there are, and about how big they are--then there's nothing any of us can do. There's nowhere safe, and we ever see one of those things again, we're all going to die." |
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Post: 04.05.2009 Date: 11.27.2196 Time: Night Reflections During A Lonely Night I swallowed one of the small red pills shea(3)va gave me this morning. I feel a little queasy just thinking about it now. Didn’t really think about it then. Just did it. A small fire burns. It's a luxury, and it's risky, and we should probably snuff it out, but sometimes it's the small things that bring the most hope. And we can't let even the smallest hopes get away. God knows I sure can't. Some of them are huddled around it, soaking up some warmth, fighting off the sudden chill of the black night. Turned cold sometime in the past twelve hours. Does that sort of thing on occasion. Could go warm before dawn. Could freeze. Glitch that Comet. I’m standing away from the fire, away from the Scorp, away from everybody. Can’t deny it, I’ve kept my distance from everybody all day. Even JACK and shea(3)va. Even 2-85. Especially 2-85. And that’s been a problem, since he’s made it clear he wants more of me. More of my time. More of my attention. My affections. After shea(3)va and I returned from Un Town, he saw the look on my face and drew me away from the others, took me in his arms, just held me close, never asking what was wrong, combing fingers through my hair. He stole a kiss and I let him. He tried for a second, but I pulled away, wracked with guilt at the escape I’d let myself enjoy. He whispered in my ear a single word: “Soon.” I’d stared up into those swirling orbs of his, resisting the urge to let myself be pulled into them, where I’d certainly drown, give myself fully over to him and what he wants between us. I’m most of the way there already; it’s not going to take much more to get me the rest of the way. That’s where the guilt is coming from. Pleasure in times of pain. It seems like I’m being selfish, taking time for myself while danger grows with every tick and every tock. This soon after Un Town, I just can’t deal with the guilt, so I separate myself. It hurts him, I know, and the others too, but I need a little time to work this out on my own. nin(9) glares at me as she leans against the Scorp, and though there’s nothing new about that, I can tell she disapproves of my sudden distancing from the group. It’s bad for morale. I know that, but right now the weight on my shoulders is a little too much. The glow of the moon is pushing through the thin, finger-like clouds. They look like the decrepit hands of some undead creature trying to shield itself from a piercing, holy light. The red pill hadn’t tasted like anything. It had been smooth against my tongue, and then it was gone down my throat, dissolving all the while. I wonder how quickly my body had absorbed it, how quickly my body had been affected. (you mean how eager your body was) No. (yes) My backpack is slung over my shoulder, the hood on my cloak is low across my eyes, abbreviating my view of the silver landscape. Sever-whip on my side, cold against the strip of bare flesh above my hip. Thoughts of the other nine pills in my backpack refuse to vacate. I need some space. I need to be alone. I need to stop thinking about that one pill I took, and what it might mean. (what you want it) (to mean, you mean) All of the coven are out scouting ahead. When nin(9) turns to speak to m(3)gan, I slip away just as the moon’s light is doused by one of the bigger clouds. This would be impossible to do if the wirewitches were here. They don’t let me go off by myself. I don’t resist that normally, but tonight, I need solitude. It doesn’t take long before I can move behind some of the large boulders that have started appearing along our path. Keeping the boulder between me and the camp, I travel in as straight a line as I can. I’ll be in trouble when I get back. Nothing new about that. I left a note with van(9)nis and told him to only give it to shea(3)va when they talked about me next. My assumption is that’ll be as soon as they find out I’m not with the rest of the group. All the note says is that I’ll be back in the morning. shea(3)va will listen. I think. Not sure about the coven. JACK and 2-85 are overprotective. I lose track of time, but I walk for at least an hour, avoiding the larger craters as best I can. When I come to the raised edge of one that I can see extends in either direction, I scale the rim, sit down, and hang my legs over the edge. The slope is gentle enough that I could explore down into it and get back out again. Thing about solitude is that it’s pretty lonely. Is this the feeling I wanted to have? Is this why I came out here? This emptiness. This ache. This sudden…desire to kill the solitude dead and have somebody else with me? Masochism. That’s all this is then. It hurts. It really does. A tear or two would be appropriate, maybe a hundred. “Aw, glitch it,” I say. My voice echoes down into the massive crater below, along with the sigh that follows. Shadows in the crater shift. At least I think. Saw it out of the corner of my eye. I stare for a couple minutes, but don’t see anything. Do I really want somebody else here so much that my mind needs to give me what I want? Conjuring up some imaginary friends? I’m not that needy, right? A hug. Be really nice right now. Tight and crushing the breath out of me. Yeah. I suppress a laugh. Part of me certainly doesn’t want to be alone. That’s the little girl in me—the one that wants comfort, the one that’s afraid, the one that wants somebody to save her. A Knight, a Thief, a Warlock. Some sort of savior. Any will do, just as long as the little girl doesn’t have to be scared any longer. The part that wants to be alone is the older girl—perhaps she’s a woman—the one that feels so inadequate to carry the burden of expectations placed on her, the one that wants to wither under the stares of the people willingly following her toward oblivion, the one that aches at the loss of her only daughter so she tries not to think about her, the one that feels guilty every time she looks at a certain warlock and wonders what it would be like if she stopped clinging to ideals she barely believes in anymore and just gave in. The one that swallowed one of those little red pills because she wanted to see if it would change anything, and because time was short, impossibly short maybe. Somehow, I’m both of them, big and little girls. One scared, the other scarred. Both wanting to be better than they are, braver, stronger. God, please let me cry. Nothing comes of course. Just the burning ache of pressure that can’t be released. I’m stuck sniffling, each breath painful. Still doing that when I realize it wasn’t my imagination before and that there are things moving on the concave surface of the crater below. All I see are dark shapes shuffling, disturbing the shadows down there. I wonder. But I don’t wonder long. One of those things down there roars into the night, and the sound speeds my heartbeat. I’ve heard that sound before. Never wanted to hear it again. Eoas. |
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Post: 04.05.2009 Date: 11.27.2196 Time: Night Return Of The Demon Spawn Following us. They’ve been following us! First thoughts in my mind. No supporting evidence though. Eoas do roam wild across the continent. This is probably just a wandering herd. Still, all I can think is that the eoas are here because I am, and even worse, that somebody sent them after us. …the cages of their minions… Thinking of the others, I realize how stupid and selfish it was for me to come out here on my own. Their concern for me endangers them. They’d sacrifice themselves to come after me. They’d sacrifice themselves to save me from myself. “Stupid,” I mutter quietly. “Get it together, angel.” As if in answer, the eoas are sounding. There’s more movement now, as if my quiet words slid down the surface of the crater, creating an invisible avalanche of sound that disturbed the herd. These aren’t the roars I’m used to though. Instead, these are deep, elongated sounds, almost mournful. There are higher-pitched frequencies in there. One eoa sounds, and others answer back. They’re…talking, sort of beautifully I’m forced to admit. If they weren’t six-legged abominations that have tried to kill me on more than one occasion, I could almost enjoy what I’m hearing. It’s almost a song. I stand up, trying to determine how far away they are. The crater is miles in diameter, but the eoas are close enough that I’m sure I could throw a rock at them and hit one. The slope of the crater is gentle enough that they could charge me without any trouble. There’s nothing between the herd and me. If they see me and stampede, all I have is a head start and a few boulders to hide behind. I can’t outrun them. (syl, aren’t you forgetting something?) Okay, I was deluding myself before. There’s no way I can stay out here all night by myself. Hadn’t considered the possibility that there might be an eoa threat before. Silly, naïve youngling me. Sometimes I forget that this world is doing its best to kill me. I let my guard down just enough that it was able to put a knife to my throat. Need to stop doing that. (something somebody told you before) I loop the strap of the backpack over my head, securing it in case I have to run. Turning my back to the crater, I move forward, back to the others. It’ll take over an hour to get back to them. (something relevant) Don’t get far though before I realize that it’s not going to be as easy as I’d hoped. Some of those boulders around the crater aren’t boulders at all. No, I’m pretty sure they are motionless, sleeping eoas. (something important) And by the way that those same eoas are moving all around me, I’m pretty sure that they’re not asleep any longer. Not sure exactly what to do, but I stop moving, stop making noise, stop breathing. There are a lot of them. So many more than I expected. How could I have missed all of them? For a few seconds, the moon slips from behind a cloud. A quick shake of my head to the left and then to the right lets me know the heart-stopping fact that I’m surrounded by at least fifty of them. I didn’t hear them before, and I barely hear them now, but I can feel the ground shudder as they move around me. So big, and yet so quiet, it’s a mystery how they can do that. Never noticed that during my previous encounters with them. Then again, maybe I was distracted before on account of they always seemed to be attempting to impale me on those metallic bonespikes they have ornamenting their malformed bodies. Currently, the eoas are ignoring me. Or, at least, they aren’t showing any signs that they’ve noticed me. That’s good. Keep it that way, angel. Only three things I’ve seen take out an eoa: Aran, Kiiziiziixii, and wirewitches. Blue-haired girls with sever-whips aren’t really in the same class as those sorts of killers. A warm cloak is my only armor. Not gonna stop a four-foot bonespike with a half-ton of eoa momentum behind it. I’m completely exposed. Nothing to hide behind here. They’re not moving with any discernable pattern or intent, but a few of them are getting closer, less than five meters now. Rock hard flesh stretches over bone and metal that protrudes as if their internal skeletons were desperate to claw their way out of the shells that traps them. Only real opening I have is back behind me, and that’s the crater with more eoas. (something about eoas) Oh, one of them is very close now, moving directly beside me. The smell of something long dead hits me. I have to move my head to avoid being hit by a bonespike. I barely dodge the tail, forced to take a step sideways. If I stay here long, I’m likely to be trampled by accident. Since they don’t appear to be making any aggressive moves, I decide to risk moving through them. Keep breathing even, quiet and shallow. Step softly. Only move when the nearest eoa’s head is behind you. Think eoa thoughts. It seems to work. They’re still ignoring even though I’m moving. Sever-whip is just an inch or two away. I’d feel better if it was in my hand, but I don’t want to take the chance that the moon will reflect off the handle. It’d be just my luck if eoas end up having an appetite for shiny metal objects. Progress is smooth until I misjudge the trajectory of one eoa. Narrowly missing a jagged bonespike, I collide with the eoa’s middle leg on this side. The rough surface catches on the edge of my cloak, forcing me to pivot on one leg to avoid being thrown backwards. I reverse direction, walking with the eoa now, frantically grabbing for my cloak, which is definitely caught on something. The eoa’s skin reminds me of the desert floor, rocky unforgiving. I grab a handful of the material there and pull. The cloak comes free. I stumble away. Something hits the ground at my feet. Glitch! It’s my sever-whip, gleaming in the moonlight. Maybe the eoas won’t notice. I reach down and pick up the sever-whip as quickly as I can. The night air is suddenly warm all around me, my cloak buffeted. I smell rot. Spinning around, the eoa there, no more than three feet from me is one of the bigger ones, at least eight feet tall. His eyes glint in the light of the moon, and then his head lifts, those tusks whipping upward on either side of me. His roar is deafening and filled with anger. I hold my ground, partly because I’m surprised I haven’t been gored already, but mostly because my legs aren’t responding. Yeah, gonna die right here, alone in the desert. That’s glitched up. The eoa rears up, shaking its head, bellowing a war scream, blocking out the moon, four legs pumping the air. I get my legs going backwards finally. Tripping, I land on my butt, the eoa’s front legs slamming into the ground only inches away. Throwing my head back saves me from a brutal decapitation as the eoa waves its head from side-to-side, snorting and grunting. Drops of wetness shower my body as drops of drool rain down. I roll to one side, and I know the eoa’s dipping his head, digging a furrow in the ground with one tusk as it tries to scoop me up. As I roll onto my stomach, push up to my knees, then to my feet, I’m able to get a few steps away as the eoa has to rotate to get a good angle to maintain its attack. The hood of my cloak is in my eyes, so I throw it back with one hand. Scanning. Scanning. Scanning. Glitch, this isn’t going to work. I have nowhere to go. There’s another eoa right in front of me, and the one behind is disturbing the others. I dodge, moving behind the eoa in front of me, jumping over its tail, putting the bulk of its body between me and the other one. Two seconds later, eoa screams multiply. There’s the sound of metal on bone and bone on flesh, then splattering fluids. Quicker now, not yet running, surprised what I just did actually worked. (outsmarted an eoa angel congratulations) The eoas are agitated. Sounds like every single last one of the glitched beasts is vocalizing, roaring into the night, mourning the loss of one of their own. That can’t be good. It’s not. The five eoas closest to me stop in their tracks, turning simultaneously to face inward. I’m trapped. “Oh, leave me alone!” I shout in defiance. The eoas roar in response. The night recedes as light explodes from my sever-whip. “I’m not the easiest morsel you’ll taste, you g’ekks!” Twirling, I let the plasma wire extend to its full length, creating a wide circle from which the eoas amazingly retreat, if only for a second. One of them takes a step forward. Bad move. I lash out with the sever whip. The plasma wire wraps around the eoa’s right tusk. I draw it tight, guiding the coil tight around the tusk. Then, with a quick flick, I cut the tusk from the eoa. Or, that’s what that was supposed to do. It doesn’t. Do. Anything. Glitch that’s it, I’m dead. That was a big, fatal mistake. The eoa jerks its head, pulling the sever-whip from my hand before I can react. Without my hand on the handle, my weapon deactivates and begins to retract the plasma wire. The sever-whip drops to the ground, way out of reach. The eoa charges. I can only wait for the end. My ears tell me the eoa is wailing as it comes at me, singing one last sad song before I die. Mind is scrambling for some way out, but every possible future is filled with blood, pain, and the unmistakable stench of utter failure. My failure. How glitched pathetic. Two seconds. That’s how long I have left to live. And it’s when I finally give in to my fear and close my eyes. Which is why I’m not prepared for the utter violence of the bone-crushing impact when it comes. Somehow, there is pain and numbness at the same time. Then, blackness. |
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Post: 10.14.2009 Date: 11.27.2196 Time: Night Eoa, My Executioner
“You’re in big trouble,” says the voice as the darkness pulls away. It’s 2-85.
Know that voice anywhere. I’m having trouble breathing. Parts of me are numb.
And the other parts of me hurt. Mind tells me that’s most likely because 2-85
slammed into me at about thirty miles an hour when he rescued me from the
charging eoa.
World’s wrong-side up. Jerking all over the place. He has me over his shoulder.
My arms are limp, flailing. Can’t see a thing. Well, except maybe his butt. Hmm.
“Tell me when you’re back enough that you can run on your own,” he says.
Sure, just give me a couple days.
“We gonna make it?” I manage to ask.
“Maybe.”
The world tips and turns. I hold back vomit as a wave of dizziness washes over
me. Now 2-85 just has me in his arms, one arm under my back, one under my knees.
Takes me a second to focus. Not much has changed. Eoas everywhere. 2-85’s face
is all silvery-blue in the pale moonlight.
“There’s so many,” I say.
“Yes. What did you do?”
“What the glitch does that mea—?” My words get clipped because 2-85 crouches and
jumps into the air. It’s a superhuman leap over one of the eoas that had just
turned toward us, and we come down hard. Even 2-85 has trouble with the landing,
his grip slipping. My body goes askew till my boots hit the ground.
“I can stand,” I say, though I’m not sure I can back that up. Hurts to breathe.
Something feels like it’s poking me inside. Either I need to crack my back
something fierce or there’s something broken in there.
2-85 steadies me with his hairstalk as he allows me to stand. “I hit you hard.
Sorry.”
I blink at him. “2-85, You can tackle me anytime you want.”
“Really?” he asks as he grabs my hand, pulling me with him as we run. I see at
least four dark shapes moving directly toward us. All the other shapes are
probably headed for us too, just not so overtly.
“You’re better than the alternative.” Still struggling for a full breath, trying
to keep up with 2-85, I try to take quick stock of our situation. Glitch it.
This is really bad. We’re actually headed
deeper into the field of eoas, back toward the big crater. If I were
rescuing me, this is not how I would do it.
I can tell that 2-85 is holding himself back for me, forcing himself to run
slower so I can keep up. I briefly wonder if we’d be better off with him
carrying me.
“I’d carry you, but I can’t defend you like that,” 2-85 says.
Is he reading my mind?
“This is not the way we should be going,” I say. We’re at the edge of the
crater. Everywhere, eoas roar. The only reason we haven’t been trampled or gored
is that there are too many of them and they’re not moving in any consistent
direction. “There’s too many of them down here.”
“Trust me, there’s too many of them back that way,” 2-85 says. “I don’t really
know how you were able to get yourself surrounded by so many so quickly.”
Down in the crater, all I can really see are massive lumps of shadows writhing.
“There’s probably a hundred down in the crater, and only about half that many—”
“No, syl. There are more up there. A lot more. Several hundred. Trust me, that’s
not where we want to be.”
Several hundred…
We’re moving down into the crater now. It’s miles across, but it can’t be more
than twenty meters deep and the slope is gentle. The eoas behind us are angry
and bellowing, but they can’t move quickly at us. All of the great beasts are
visibly disturbed, though the ones in the crater don’t seem like they’ve found
the source of the disturbance just yet, so all they can do is stamp and snort,
growl and shake. Descending into all that isn’t an attractive option. It’s like
making a conscious decision to walk into an active volcano. It’s suicide. Don’t
have much choice though, so down we go.
“You’re trouble,” 2-85 mutters. “Right from the beginning.”
I can’t debate him. I was in deep glitch the first time we ever met. Nothing’s
changed. Strike that. Everything’s changed, just not my ability to get into
lethal situations where I need someone to save me. “Do you still like me?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for saving me.”
2-85 doesn’t look back at me as he navigates me through the maze of eoas. “You
can thank me later.”
“I will,” I say, fighting to keep my mind focused.
Glitch, what is wrong with me? So easily
distracted. How can he have this effect on me? Weakness, that’s what it is. Just
a weak little girl. That’s me.
(syl, aren’t you forgetting
something?)
“We’ll make it,” 2-85 says. He sounds like he’s trying to reassure himself as
much as he is me.
“You sure about this plan of yours?” We’re moving laterally. I think he’s trying
to lead us around the mass of eoas that are grouped down here in the crater.
There are a lot more down here than I originally thought. Too many to count
easily. I squeeze 2-85’s hand tighter as the fear in me starts to whisper in my
ear that I’m not leaving this crater alive. We walked into the mouth of the
monster, and it’s not going to let us go.
There are creatures in the dark, waiting to eat me.
Save me, my warlock.
(something somebody told you before)
There’s an explosion of movement from several of the eoas as we pass them. They
all rear up simultaneously, then there are screams of pain and the wet ripping
of flesh.
(something relevant)
Sparks burst like miniature firework eruptions as bone and metal skeletons
collide. The screech of metal on metal tears into the night sky. It’s a horrible
sound.
(something important)
2-85 pulls me harder. His hairstalk is a black snake around my waist.
(something about eoas)
They hit me then, cyn(7)dar’s words: After
all, we created the eoas. Okay, so what is the relevance? Doesn’t really
matter that my ancestor’s created them because the eoas don’t look like they
give a glitch. Unsure why my mind won’t shut the glitch up about it. I remember
what cyn(7)dar said. No need to keep the echo in my head going.
…created the eoas…
“Watch it!” 2-85 shouts.
I stop dead, only maintaining my feet because 2-85’s hairstalk slithered up
around me, held me back, saved me once again.
Two eoas collide in front of us in a mess of flesh, bending metal and breaking
bone. I feel a warm mist feel the air. It’s not the first time I’ve had eoa
blood on me.
I’m suddenly very aware that 2-85’s hairstalk is in a sensitive place. To
prevent me from participating in the eoa crash, 2-85 was forced to shoot his
hairstalk from where it was at my waist all the way up to my shoulder. Now, the
middle length of his hairstalk is resting between my breasts. I don’t know what
to do, so I hold my breath.
The eoas in front of us are dying. Even in my compromised position, their death
moans are sorrowful enough that they bring an unexpected surge of pity into me.
Unconsciously, I bring my hand to my collarbone. This has the side effect of
squishing 2-85’s hairstalk tight against me. I shiver under a mix of regret and
thrill.
“syl,” 2-85 says quietly after a moment. “As nice as it is to have you hold me
like that, we need to run.”
I can’t see his eyes in the dark. Really wish I could right now. I want to know
if his eyes are swirling storms or stopped cold. I want to know how I make him
feel. Releasing his hairstalk, it slides down and away, brushing my hip as it
goes. I shudder, letting him grab my hand, yank me into motion.
Too glitched late.
Eoas, close and packed. No route through them this time. We’re blocked on the
one side by the two dying eoas, and on all the other sides by eoas that are most
certainly aware of us, advancing on us.
“Jump?” I ask.
“Can’t jump that far holding you.”
“Then just you,” I say.
2-85 turns to me, and I don’t need to see his eyes to know that he’s angry.
“Don’t ever ask me to leave you to save myself again.”
We’ll have to fight then. Out of habit, I go for the sever-whip on my hip, even
though I know it’s not there because I dropped it earlier. Only, it
is there, right where it’s supposed to be.
“I didn’t think you were ready to get rid of that,” 2-85 says, turning away to
face the approaching eoas.
“Thanks.”
“Plus, you look really good with a weapon on your hip.”
I really need to kiss him soon. I really do.
“We gonna make it?” I ask.
“Maybe.” And then he’s gone, just a blur in the night. He’s moving so fast I can
barely track him. I don’t even have a chance to activate my sever-whip before
all of the eoas in the area are roaring in pain. One of them stumbles sideways,
two of its legs cut out from underneath it. I flick my thumb. As the plasma wire
shoots into existence, I can see the true extent of the damage he’s done. Two of
the eoas have been blinded, long, furrowed wounds where their eyes should be. I
see an eyeball on the ground seconds before it’s crushed under the foot of the
same eoa it was cut from.
I briefly consider taking off my backpack for increased mobility. Probably not a
good idea since it’d be difficult to pick it back up, and I’d rather not leave
it behind.
A new eoa, just a silhouette of black paint, replaces one of the fallen ones,
lumbering over the lifeless mountains of eoa flesh in its way. It’s coming right
for me. In the gloom of the night and the faint light of the partially hidden
moon, its eyes gleam. Hate and torture reflected there.
The eoa charges, as do I, cutting the angle of attack, but also shortening the
time I have to react. The sever-whip flashes as I swerve to the side at the last
minute, jumping over a slashing tusk. It hurts, a lot, my chest complaining,
shooting pain through my torso. I come down okay though, the smell of burning
eoa flesh in my nostrils. Somewhere in there whatever was askew in my spine popped back into place.
Much better. The eoa thrashes as a large chunk of its head swivels away, falling
to the ground with a wet, squishy thud. Brain material runs onto the ground from
the gaping wound. Fluids glisten and slosh in the half-empty bowl of its skull.
Inexplicably, I feel regret.
2-85 is at my side. “You hurt?” he asks.
“Not yet. You?”
“No.”
“Keep it that way. I may want to kiss you after this is all over.” Hairstalk
against my thigh.
“I may want that too.”
Then there’s no more time for talk. 2-85 goes airborne, coming down directly on
the head of another eoa. His sharpened arms stab once, then twice into the eoa’s
brain. It doesn’t even make a sound when it dies.
It’s safer to stand closer to the dead
eoas since their bodies are large enough to provide cover. I’m moving toward one
of the dead ones when 2-85 drops back to my side. His shoulder brushes mine.
A glance behind me. Three eoas there. Big ones. Nine or ten feet tall. They’re
moving together, roaring in unison. The air cracks when their tusks slam into
each other.
2-85 spins around me so that I’m behind him, somehow avoiding the sever-whip.
The move is so graceful, so deadly, so beautiful. He steps closer to the eoas.
He’s going to take all three of them. I should be scared for him, all I can
think of is how strong he is, how powerful he is, how his body feels when he
holds me, how it is to kiss him. How it will feel to…
Something’s wrong, 2-85 is on the ground. He stumbles as he tries to get back
up. He’s shaking his head, as if trying to clear it. He looks disoriented, as if
he just got hit on the head.
I’m moving toward him, but I’m not gonna be fast enough. The eoas, sensing easy
prey, are closer.
I can’t save him.
Mind flashes to the island, to 3-43, his hands on my shoulders, gripping me
tight, dying from the eoa tusk through his chest.
No. No. NO!
“NO!” I scream at the eoas. There’s a flash
of light in my vision, almost like something bursting in my eyeballs. It doesn’t
hurt, and it fades quickly, almost like a sigh.
“STOP RIGHT THERE!” It’s stupid,
childish, desperate. Words can’t stop a charging eoa. It will never work.
But it does. |
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Post: 10.14.2009 Date: 11.27.2196 Time: Night A Link Restored
The three eoas are just standing there, less than two meters from where 2-85
stands. He’s breathing heavily.
“What did you do?” he asks.
I can barely get my mouth to respond. “I-I told them to stop.”
He shakes his head. “I heard you, but I’m not talking about that. I’m asking
about what you did to me.”
“To you? What the glitch are you talking about?” I take a careful step toward
2-85, watching the three eoas that had been seconds from killing my warlock.
They’re not moving. In fact, none of
the eoas are moving. Everywhere I look I see eoas standing around. It’s creepy.
I’m think I should be scared, and I am, more than a little bit. They’re not
roaring or screaming or growling. They’re not doing anything except standing and
breathing.
I’m scared, but first things first.
2-85 draws in deep breaths. “You were thinking about…I could see…I mean feel…it
was real…so intense. Is that how…it’s going to be…when
we…I mean…with you…?”
Walking up behind him, still keep my eyes on the eoas, I put my hand on 2-85’s
shoulder. “Are you okay?”
He goes down to his knees, his head bowed. “I’m not sure.”
“Are you sick?”
He laughs. “No. It’s not like that. It doesn’t hurt. Not at all.”
“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”
2-85 looks over and up at me. “You really do love me, don’t you?”
“I-I…” I stammer, completely shocked.
(yes yes yes)
(for forever maybe)
2-85 shakes his head, standing up. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just
that—” shuddering, yet smiling, “—I wasn’t sure before. We can talk about it
later.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just stand there, staring and wondering. I hold
his gaze, lost in the reflected moon in those swirling eyes of his.
The spell is only broken when 2-85 turns away. “You told them to stop and they
did.”
“Yeah.”
“You should have told me you could do this before.”
“You didn’t ask,” I retort, my mind still trying to handle all this. 2-85 acts
sick and hurt, and then he tells me that I love him, and if that weren’t enough,
eoas have started obeying my verbal commands. It’s a little much for a girl to
accept all at once.
“Is this something all the Driftlings can do?” 2-85 asks.
“Don’t know. Didn’t know I could do it till just now. Can you hold me?” I flip
the switch and the plasma wire retracts.
He’s there in an instant, his arms around me. We both have eoa blood on us. I
can smell wirewitch sweat mixed with my own. I let my head rest against his
chest, luxuriating in the firmness there, something rock solid to cling to.
“How long do you think they’re going to stay like that?” 2-85 asks.
I peer out from within his arms. “I could try making them do something else.”
“Move them back if you can.”
Good idea. Some more space would be nice, make us all more comfortable. “Move
back,” I say quietly, then wait. The eoas don’t move. 2-85 releases me. I move
closer to the three eoas that had their sights set on 2-85. “Move back!” I yell.
No response. The eoas just stare at me quietly.
“Don’t just say it, syl,” 2-85 says. “Think it.”
“Move back,” I say, consciously thinking it at the same time.
The eoas, all of them, back up.
Stop, I think, not bothering to say it out
loud.
The eoas stop moving.
“You can send them commands with your thoughts?” 2-85 says. “That’s amazing,
syl.”
No it’s not; it’s glitched scary. “I…think so.”
“Why do you think that is?”
I run fingers through my hair. Doesn’t feel like there’s too much eoa blood up
there. The air, which had been cool earlier, seems warm now. “I’m not sure
exactly. I know we created the eoas. Nobody ever told me that we could control
them. I’m not telepathic.”
2-85 moves close, really close, his face filling my vision. “Are you sure about
that?”
“Yes…well, I don’t believe in that.”
2-85 smiles. “I do. I believe you can do amazing things.”
Trouble thinking, talking, with him this close. “I’m gonna have to ask the
others.”
2-85 continues to smile, his eyes are torrents. His skin shimmering with
circuitstream pattern ridges. “You seem to have saved yourself this time. As
long as the eoas continue to obey you, it doesn’t look like we’re in any danger
here. Whatever link you have with them now, it’s a very good thing.” His arms
come around me.
I look around at the eoas. It’s disturbing to have them standing still like
that. Seems unnatural. You can move
around. Just keep away from us. Do…whatever it is you do as long as you don’t
harm us. Oh, and stay calm. No fighting. The eoas begin to move away from
us, and they’re doing it quietly. It’s surreal.
2-85 pulls me fully against him. His hairstalk winds around my ankles. “Are you
hurt at all?”
I breathe deeply, but it doesn’t hurt like it did before. “I don’t think so.
You?”
“I’m fine.”
He looks around. “The eoas do not appear to be a problem anymore. We have a lot
to talk about with the others when we get back.”
“Are you here to take me back?”
“That’s why they sent me out.”
“Are the others out, still searching for me?”
“No. I have communicated with JACK that I’ve found you, and that you are safe
with me.”
“You can talk with her this far away.?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so, but I can right now.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s you.”
“What could I possibly do that would affect that?”
“I don’t know. Things are just different around you sometimes.”
I put my arms around his waist, locking my fingers behind his back, holding him
tight. “2-85, I’m glad you’re here.”
“Do you want me to take you back?”
I look up. The sky is filled with clouds. I can hear the sound of rain. I’m a
little breathless, and it’s not because of any internal chest injury. “No, I’m
not going back yet. Stay here with me.”
2-85 ‘s head swings from one side to the other. “Here? In a crater filled with
eoas?”
“Yes. Here. Like you said, the eoas aren’t a danger.”
A wave of rain is headed down the crater. “Okay,” 2-85 says, “what exactly do
you want to—”
“This,” I say, going up on my tiptoes. As the rain washes over us, I press my
lips to his. |
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this page and its contents copyright (c) by ethan a. cooper |
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