GuNNhead

The lumbering beast makes its way down the narrow passage, snarling and drooling. Neon lights line the walls. Vertical yellow and red stripes race by as it moves faster, confused. Entering a clearing, the world seems to calm, but only for a moment. In an instant, strobe lights become the essence of its surroundings. The ground underfoot begins to spin, and all it can hear is laughter. Laughter of all pitches, it cannot discern where exactly it is coming from, as the aural cacophony bombards it from all sides. What manner of creature would be so amused at the mere sight of this large and intimidating Tyrannosaur? Glaring its teeth and releasing a deafening roar, it hears the sounds silence themselves. Feeling more assured of himself, it sends out another terrifying roar into the air, piercing the swirling night sky.

With new confidence upon the shifting ground, the gargantuan struts around the clearing. Colors boil, coil, and roil together; a sense of euphoria fills its subconscious, awakening a new cosmos of stars. History creates a primeval brainstorm of images and ideas; judgement and opinion, premise and prospect. Visions of a concept not yet conceived dance upon its mindwaves, rockets and robots, instruments and inventions. The visions begin to fade, the colors normalize, but the ideas remain. A new form of consciousness is born in the Gorgosaur.

Isn’t it a dream?

It grows accustomed to this new frame, enjoying the change with minimal regret; though, no positive plans to make a singularity permanent. The old ways are so natural, perhaps always the greatest. It does not want to turn this fervor off. The complete switch may be the reasonable choice for one who wants their nights to be full of desperate emotions! However, it thinks. It was born with one way and one way inside only.

It saw what others did, not knowing why itself felt no urge from commencement to correspond in their consumption. Today it chose to create a destiny of its own, defy what it began knowing, and brought up to believe in as a system.
Night fails to make this hunter, killer, irresolute and pitiful. It knows how to avoid this risk! What it had partaken of tonight would not render that the only thing in its existence. It knew of a balance, a balance for need and desire, and of instinct versus assent.

It has become transcended, into the heart and mind of the prey, a noble predator that can not only do what it must. There are no morals in matters such as this, no pity or remorse. This is how it must be, how it was always intended to be. The frivolous choices in the future of enjoyment are merely that, designed to enhance the sentience. It will always imbibe the lifeblood, only now it has reached an awareness of its own, and can luxuriate in that.

This entry was posted on August 13, 2009 at 6:11 am and is filed under Fiction, Sci-Fi with tags Dinosaur. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.