Eye help: Here’s to all my writers out there… - Help.com

Here’s to all my writers out there…

lmao its long and only the first draft, but let me know what you think;)
Best to you all and happy holidays.

***
1908 couldn’t move. Under the firm-restraining belt she could only feel the frigid tingle of the metal and the slow pressure that moved up her spine. Through her blindfold she could only see darkness- not the pleasant kind that you fall asleep to. There was no soft darkness here. Only the black you rarely ever see- the blackness that makes you think of nothingness and empty space…the kind young children on earth only dream of. The kind of darkness that makes you shiver and sweat in the cold- the bloodcurdling dark that makes your insides churn… the kind that makes you feel like you aren’t alone.

But she was.

The only light in the cell was a flashing red beam of hypnotic rhythms; rhythms which bore through her body- rhythms that pulsed and moved through her brain…

She couldn’t think.

The light flashed through her closed eyelids and bore through her mind. It spun around and around like lights from a lighthouse- although there was something about the eerie glow that seemed to turn her off; stun her mind… it seamed to scream at her- and even though her ears heard nothing her mind began to flicker- she saw flashes of blood and flashes of tears. Flashes of children and women like she had only dreamed of. She saw men and boys… standing over a small infant crying in the back corner… screaming… terrified of the red light that spun through the darkened faces- the fading colors and spinning room. And then; in an instant;

darkness.

The light was switched off.
The vibrations began to pulsate up through her navel and spread like wildfire to the edges of her fingertips. She felt pain through her limbs as every cell and organ seamed to freeze in place.

And she saw nothing…

She felt metal against her flesh, a hand on her cheek, (was that a hand?) and before she could think, her mind went numb. She was crying before she knew it and all at once, she hated it. She hated the machines and the voice that warned her to sit still. She hated the Institute and she hated The Force…

She hated it.

Her flesh burned…
And then, she felt the smooth tip of a needle rest on her wrist. It was painless. It was so like everything she had grown up to. Painless and yet it hurt in some other unfamiliar way. The way that wakes you up in the middle of the night and run into your mothers arms.
But there were no mothers in the Institute. Only machines…only the Force.
And then she wondered… how had she ended up here?
She couldn’t remember.
When she tried to think back it always ended in the blurry night she had been initiated into the plain-whitewashed walls she roamed day after day.
She could in fact, recollect that day she had the proud honor of accepting her ring of “Mia Culpa”.
Oh, yes. She remembered.
And she could still feel it bonding to her skin. She was told she could never remove it. That was how the institute worked: it made you believe everything was permanent. That their power was unseen and ultimate- that you were inferior, you were their slave… yet she could not argue… for they were.
And the cool monotones rippled from the giant screen in the entrance hall… making it sound so pleasant, so natural. As you were chained to a wall and were assigned a pin number- your name, your worth to the automatic blood sampler. Your only pride was your blood type- how perfect your body had reacted to the poison and how long you had to live.
Before they took you… Your life year all those in the Institute dreaded- for it was your expiration date. The day before the chemicals killed you and your blood was ripe enough to harvest.
Like psychic vampires, they controlled you. Any disobedient thoughts, your ring would burn. “Mia Culpa” would flash along the smooth banded silver, and you would loose all control: sometimes, if you were bad enough; if you thought too much or resisted to them, they simply killed you. And the rest were punished.

Like she was being punished.

But no one had even looked twice at escape- no one had resisted. No one… but her.

Since she had arrived as an infant she had reviled the system. She grew up to loath the constant security- all the dorms that were perfectly carved into the side of the metal world; and the software they all seamed to live in… the trance all her companions walked around in. They ate from a machine in the dorm that fed you through the ring. They would sit on their recliners and put on their helmet that instantly connected them into an online world. The real world was too dangerous. Real thoughts from real minds would eventually realize that something was wrong. That somewhere, someplace, things should be different.

Just like she did.

And always, through night and day she hated… everything.
And what was their purpose? The humans- the beings… what were they here for?
Nothing more than a battery. Nothing more than a fossil fuel to the machines, to the Force. They lived off their blood and kept them around to wait. Wait until their 16th year, their 5,840th day… until their blood was rich enough to take.
Every,
Last,
Drop.

And it was said that there were parent’s once- but the only humans said to be left were the scientists that worked for the machines and performed that last operation before death… just like the one being performed on her. Their children had been hunted down and killed… and day by day she began to loose hope. Only clones existed now, each exactly the same as the generation before. The force detested different. They seamed to fear it. And so, in the process, they came to fear her.
For long had the tales of the last souls died… long passed had the Institute ever been challenged… she seemed to fight a lonely battle.
But what she did not know was all the while whispers flew from the lips of every perfect android. Whispers of a number… a number that had escaped the system. A number that had been saved by her birth mother… 16 long years ago. It was said she lived amongst them- inadvertently waiting for the right time to fulfill the prophecy, to strike back.
But what she did not know was that she was the prophecy. That she lived it every day of her life.

And she was an ordinary number- she had he same routines as everyone else. She had the same DNA and her blood was more or less equivalent. Or so she was told. But whenever she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the polished metal walls it was a different face she saw- beautiful and strange… so unlike her fellow clones. They all were a washed out pale color, dark black hair and jet-set eyes. So black, in fact, that when she stared into them they were bottomless- empty and daunting as not even the light from the hall lamps could create a flicker in their black mist. They were like the night sky… without the heavens and without the stars… infinite and dark from within the eyelids that enclosed them. And she could see sometimes- a golden brown and blue dance with green in hers; and when she was frightened, off the uniform of the Force, she saw them turn gray. Her hair was so unlike the clones… it was a long blonde that had never been cut- and when she ran it would swing forward to encircle her face and wrap her in her own world… in her dreams of earth and what it was like to be free… free from what she only knew- from what haunted her. And the ring around her finger had her chained to their control- had her at their command and in their dispense. But she never gave up hope. It was what filled her and brought joy to her dark life… a dream she lived for and never ceased to believe in with all her human heart…
And now, as she began to die and the needle trickled with her blood; it was what made her do the unthinkable.
She sat up, and with one last mighty pull she tore the needle from her skin, ripped off her blindfold, and saw a man standing above her, with tears in deep azure eyes. And in the end, it was what made her look at the ring, take one final glance at what had held her so long, and rip it of her finger. And she wondered, why, why for so long she had never once, thought to before. And as the metal made contact with the floor, her mind seam to take wing and she new she was alive. She felt a heartbeat and her spirit sing… and with a last glance at the man hidden in shadow; she ran from the room, and was gone.
But as her feat penetrated through the long dark hallways, she realized she hadn’t the faintest idea where to go. She had never really thought she would get this far. And on cue it seemed, she turned. There, he stood, towering above her, his strong lined face set, and his dancing eyes upon her. And all he could say was “come…”
They ran, hearts pounding, for she knew they would find him. They had but minutes before the machines realized something was wrong… and as if to spite it, they ran in haste for what they could only imagine as their lives ahead of them…
At last, sweat dripping from his brow, his long, strong arms held her to him as he pushed open a vent from the low ceiling and hoisted her up. She felt more metal upon her fingertips and a chill ran up and down her spine- for at the end of the corridor there stood a giant iron door- and from the bottom streamed what could have only been…
She could barely breath. And she felt flesh upon her shoulder she did what only she could think to do.
She ran.
And as her body made contact with the door, it seamed to crumble at her mercy and swing forward. Implausible it was- for her whole life melted before her and she stepped, blinking, from her eternity of darkness, into the sunlight…

She was free.
* * *
Waking from her trance, the sirens seemed to die behind the symphony of rushing water. Light snow covered the forest floor, and the campfire flickered and burned with bright ambers through the…
She could still remember it.
With every recollection the memories were seared deeper and deeper into her mind… and nothing; no one could bring her from the dark mask that silently crept on her soul and waited to be chased away-
But she was weary now.
The child she bore seemed to take with it some of the fire that had once filled her so passionately. All she wanted was peace. Peace and the end of the Force, and of the war. She furtively wondered whether the Resistance could hold out for much longer. The war had raged from the minute she had arrived, and she had a feeling it would never end until the day each brave soul of her family drew their very last breath.
She smiled.
But she couldn’t help waiting. Waiting and watching; expecting every broken twig to be the Force- holding their long guns and burning with rage. Burning…

She awoke for the second time that night-to the familiar tingle of flesh upon flesh and turned to see her husband standing proudly above her. She could still see his face as perfectly as the day he had saved her… she remembered. It was as just as vivid as it was 10 years ago.
He placed a warm blanket around her and helped her to her feet. His eyes glowed with warmth as he rested his palm on her swollen belly. She could feel his shoulder tense and his muscles tighten as a hovercraft landed and his brothers stepped, wounded from the ship. Ushering her inside he turned at the doorway, and pressed his warm lips to her smooth velvety cheek.
“Stay safe.” He whispered and in a flash, he was gone, tending to wounds and giving direction where it was needed. But always, his eyes would dart to the doorway of her safe; just to re-assure him self all was well. Nothing would harm his un-born baby.
But someone would try.
* * *
She felt his body warmth next to her own, and his silhouette against the pale moonlight that flooded the room. She couldn’t help her heavy eyelids from closing, her mind to finally slip into ease…
But what no one heard was the silent footsteps come to stop at the doorway. And as the door clicked Argorn shot up in bed.
“Something’s out there.”

But 1908 couldn’t move. She couldn’t breath… Under the firm-restraining belt she could only feel the frigid tingle of the metal and the slow pressure that moved up her spine. Through her blindfold she could only see darkness- not the pleasant kind that you fall asleep to. There was no soft darkness here. Only the black you rarely ever see- the blackness that makes you think of nothingness and empty space…the kind young children on earth only dream of. The kind of darkness that makes you shiver and sweat in the cold- the bloodcurdling dark that makes your insides churn… the kind that makes you feel like you aren’t alone.

And she wasn’t. For it was the second time in her life she found herself with in the cold metal heartless walls of the Institute. And for the second time in her life she thought she would die. Everything was the same as she remembered- her 16th birthday, the needle that rested on her wrist…. the cool hand on her shoulder that had been Argons all along. But it wasn’t… she had been here before- felt the same things, taken the same breaths from her lungs. She had smelt the same air and felt the same tear slip from her closed eyelid and cascade down her porcelain cheek. It was all exactly as she remembered it… but the touch- she knew her husbands hands and the warm love and tenderness that erupted from it… his touch sent shivers down her spine and made her want to drop dead at his feet…
And so did this touch- but for very different reasons.
It was bitter and rigid to the surface, and as it moved down her arm she felt every drop of blood run cold. And then- she felt something that the machine did not intend- for she sensed what it was and what it wanted the minute she smelled the metal on its skin. And she felt the branded 1908 on her index finger. She could feel Mia Culpa. It was in flames.
And she remembered, without her own ring to stop her mind- the same hand reach over the side of a crib. She remembered a man- dried blood to his face… hair matted and obscuring his bright azure eyes. She saw him scream and take a flaming coal from the fireplace and shove it to the back of the androids skull.
And she could not remember, despite it all, who she was. For the face of the android was her own- but the crying child seemed so familiar- so real- so…
Alive.

She knew where she was. Rising from her chair and removing the blindfolded she looked the android in the face. Staring into her own face she searched it, carefully. And at last, she found the bottomless black eyes that were not her own.
And then, she smiled… and began to run.

She heard footsteps behind her, sirens… the red light. It bore through her mind. And although she ran with open eyes she could feel her eyes tightly closed.
The android was behind her. She could feel it. She had the feeling she had had all her life… the feeling as if she was being hunted.
She found the vent. Thrusting it open she acted on impulse. She felt more metal upon her fingertips and a chill ran up and down her spine- for at the end of the corridor there stood a giant iron door- just as it had been 10 years ago… and from the bottom streamed what could have only been…
She could barely breath. And she felt a touch on her shoulder that she knew was not Argons. She did what only she could think to do.
She ran.
And as her body made contact with the door, it seamed to crumble at her mercy and swing forward. Implausible it was- for her whole life melted before her and she silently watched as the android stepped, blinking, from it’s eternity of darkness, into the brilliant sunlight.

And she couldn’t help but smile as she felt the possessions lift her. As her vision swam into view she knew the dream state had risen and her battle had ended. Argon stood, horrified, hot ambers scattered on the tapestry. Rising, I felt my body metamorphose from where the Android had fallen. And as I stood, Mia Culpa slipped from my finger and a small cringle of metal on metal hit the polished floors. Picking up the ring, I held it to the sunlight. The flaming incarnations vanished in the dazzling light, and I turned, to fid Argon at my side. Lifting my chin to the sunlight he smiled and brought his firm strong arms around me. And as on cue, Little Claire began to cry in the spell-bounding sunrise.

Epilogue

I am happy to report little Claire has grown into a fine young lady. She has long blonde hair and her father’s eyes. She skips about in the cool atom air filled with such virgin youthfulness I was never blessed with. Our two young twins have grown some too. Both have turned out to be strong, contented, healthy young boys. Argon thinks they are old enough now to see the ruins of the Institute. I hate to think of any of my children a thousand feet from that appalling place. But he is a wise man and I trust him to teach them well of their past. After all, it was Argons ship that brought the final blow in that last battle… I can still see his gleaming ship streaming over the tops of the trees, to once and for all, rid our planet of the Force.
It had been a victorious battle in history… once the machines had reached the light, they had all shut down and all the androids were freed. The Institute was taken apart piece by piece and carefully inspected, and now the Holocaust is preserved the way it was found. Children of the Resistance still come to the ruins… some even take pictures next to their parents name on the giant plaque of all the veterans who fought for the end of such an era. And although I admit I was a bit timid about going back- Argon showed me the statue of one very special blonde head in a sea of androids, with a twinkle in her eye.
I’ve seen many stop and read the plaque underneath it and turn away in puzzlement. Their ignorance is their own though- for my generation knows more than well of the perfect flaming script…
Mia culpa.
I still feel it burn through my body. I wear the ring still, as many do, for I can remember the cruel world my sons and daughters nearly escaped. I can only imagine if Argon hadn’t found the Resistance, and brought them to me. They were all freed or escaped beings that had ever survived the machines raid at darkness… when they would fly to the human cities and take the first blood they needed. That was before they went into hiding… what was left of them that is. The machines gave up eventually and began building the androids I was somehow mixed up in. I found an old man though, who was a close friend of my parents, and knew them well. He said it was them who had created the android of me, and had sent it to them in exchange for me. They had created it in vain though… for the android was the first of what the machines used to begin the rest, and in spite took me along.
There was once a crash in the system I was told, were they lost possession of one android. It was said to have been rather important for the Force hadn’t left the institute in years, only to look for it. The search was in vain though for it was my android. It was never registered though, for they took me in instead. It was that what hunted me- it had a mind of it’s own and it was that android that later came to return to the Force, to it’s master one night- after it saw me escape. Without the ring they could not trace me- but the android and I were connected and so it was that night I thought it had captured me, it had merely brought me to it’s mercy at telepathic trances. When I was said to have broke it though, the second crash in the Institute occurred, which in the end, destroyed it.
All is well though. Argon has built a fine life. He is the royal captain of the guard for the new dawn of a timeless age…we have come a long way from the trickle of blood and a world of artificial intelligence. I am now not the only one that fights for justice- in fact, I had a thousand souls fighting with me all the while. I believe now, in the good of people and the coming of the dawn. I can fall asleep at night knowing tomorrow I will see the light again.
But always, I can feel the branded metal on my index finger… the four perfect numbers etched into more than my skin. It burns through me in night and in day- and although I have come far, it has never really left me.
I dream sometimes, of it. The blood. The metal. The chains.
But in the end all I can see is the small sliver of light at the end of the passageway… and always,

The darkness.

Signed ,

1908

This closed post was written 1 year, 12 months ago | V/U/S: 284, 20, 10 | Edit Post | Report Post

Human, Eye, war, Soul, trance, Tip, red, number, Blood, light (How Tags Affect Reciprocity)

This post has been closed, no more replies. Thanks!

Seeing as this post is closed, no invites are allowed.