Archive for April, 2011

By and By I

Posted in Fiction, Sci-Fi, The Permanent Mind on April 8, 2011 by GuNNhead

“Your chips are worth more.”
“No, they’re not, it’s just how you view them.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, here look at them this way.” I showed the angle I had.
“Well, I still feel the same.”
“That’s your choice. Feeling and thought.” The trains rushed by us. Wind, tugging at our clothes.
“Can we agree to share?”
“You know the answer to that.” Bar codes and serial numbers flashed in my mind’s eye. It was no day to die, not like this.
“They’ll get us.”
“They don’t even know who we are.”
“But we do, man, it’s us.”
“In what ways?”
“Like you said, before, don’t question it, it’s a feeling.”
“I don’t think that’s quite what I said. Either way, we have too much for ourselves, this is a good thing.”
“Not if it can’t be used, they’ll find us.”
“You worry too much, they, if they exist, want us to have these, they practically gave them to us.”
“And that doesn’t worry you either?”
“I don’t see why it would. We’re the rightful owners.”

We keep walking. I can feel a creeping in my gut. It works with my body, fueling me. The sand gives way under our feet as we veer away from the mag-lev tracks. It’s a cushy, uncomfortable feeling. Harder to walk on real ground, I think to myself. I don’t… being inside of the world… the rush it gives me. It’s this place, it feels less real because I feel it less.

“Could they have changed?”
“How would I know?”
“Well, how do you feel about it?”
“Great.” A shuttle passes overhead, the sonic boom is negligible at this distance.
“You always say that.”
“Look, it doesn’t matter, we’re here.”
“I don’t even know where here is.”
“It’s nowhere, that’s the point.”

My friend walks ahead of me, in the same direction, but doesn’t know where we’re going. I let him, he needs to let go of his nerves, he almost lost his cool back at the facility. The sun scorches down upon us. It feels like we’re walking aimlessly, lost in the desert, but I can feel. I can feel. After hours off-radar, he smacks into the air.

“Ow! My fuggin nose!”
“I told you, man, nanites. I got this. My information has been approved. High-end ch’krhine”
“I can’t believe they picked you.”
“We have to play.”
“I know, but you reached first place.”
“Yeah, and you reached second, with bonus opportunity! Come on, let’s go!” I touch the invisible wall, and it slides open. Cool air flows into us from the darkened innards, flashing with lights.

We walk inside, glimmering wires of electric agony line the hallway. We pass through a large steel door, towards the paradisio drive. My heart begins to beat faster with anticipation, we’re almost there, in, inside of ourselves, and the world. Well, what’s actually going on in the world; the only thing people care about anymore. Where the action is. We’ll all die, can just do it more now.

“Well, lets test this shit out.”
“Respect, man, the chips.”
“I get it.”

We relax, and take a seat. The companymen come from a door in the back. Their suits glisten with sincerity.

“Ready to be installed, boys?”
“Always, always.”
“Always.”

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Pit of Disparate

Posted in Fiction on April 6, 2011 by GuNNhead

I think about the pit. It’s always in my mind, somewhere. It’s where my love is. It’s where I keep it. Every so often, I take a peek, just to check up. It brings a smile to my face. Not many things do anymore. The pit is what counts, locked up safe and sound. When I shine light down there, I hear a chorus of angels. They call my name. Minkle. I think it suits me. The days I spend thinking of my loves, it makes the life I lived all worth it. I think of things to do, in the hole. It feels good. It’s filling, like a dinner for the soul.

In the night, I open up. I walk down the stairs. Admire. All so beautiful, all mine. My collection, it’s complete. I thought it never would be, but this one… this latest addition, so pure, such dedication to the craft. The walls are clean, pristine. I see to that. Filth accumulates, always accumulates. I touch and stroke each of my ensemble as I pass them. They all have their roles in my life. And they play them to perfection. It took years for me, but I am a perfectionist, I suppose. Love is something that takes hard work, to make work, I say. They feel it, my soul has been put fully into all of them.

Now, the newest one, the latest, the best, the youngest: I always wear my best suit for her. I made it for her. When the others see me in it, they know that I am making time for her first. Though, none are ever left in neglect. No, each gets their attentions in each of their own special ways. Once we are done, I exit her room. One of the oldest eyes me. I still want to play. He wants to play. We stay in the pit, with all the others, and play. I ask another to join. They do without question. They cannot question, it’s not in their nature. So pure. Such love.

A frothy mess. We clean up. I am soft. Moisturize. Smoothness is key to being me. Without it, I am not. I can’t speak of the games I play to anyone. They don’t play. They couldn’t, their minds are… wired wrong. But not my loves, not my love. No, this is the truest thing in the world. A fact of feeling. It can’t be taken away from me, I will always hold it inside of me, inside of them. They can try to take my loves away from me, like they used to, but not in the pit. It’s my secret. Even if they did, I would only find more love. I have a lot to give. They feel how large it is, they are the only ones, they understand me. I open myself to them, and they open themselves to me. We are inside of each other.

I walk back up the stairs, and close the door. It locks automatically. I’ll never be left alone again.

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Effluvium

Posted in Fiction, Horror on April 1, 2011 by GuNNhead

Time. It loses all meaning without place. Fog, a heavy mist that reduces visibility. What can I do when I know that I have vision, but can see nothing but this fog. It chokes my eyes, and leaves my lungs clear. I’ve been walking so long, I don’t remember what ground feels like, or if I’m even walking on it anymore. I can’t see it, so it’s possible it left without hesitation, or perhaps I left it. That would make more sense, to place the blame on myself. I was interacting with forces I should not have been.

I recall clearly leaving the misty waters through the fog, and into the port of a city that appears on no maps. The fog was to be left behind, seeing clear visions of barren streets. But it followed me as I stepped further into the unknown pathways, crowding me. Distorting my thoughts and visions. I breathe deeply, and exhale onto my hand, seeing it for the first time in… ages? I haven’t hit into anything, but I have never veered off course. A straight line. If one never does anything unexpected, then one can only find what they are looking for, unless, of course, it is not there, and never was. I can overcome what is internal. I always have, set out to new lands. Plot a course from point A to point B to point C. It never ended, but it also never ended in something new. It was the same everywhere. Which is how I find myself here.

I make a sharp turn to the left, and fall, fall forever. There is no time any longer, and the fog clears. Sadly, it only reveals horrors. Or, as it were, blessings in disguise. I turn, and I can see the fog not so far above me. I’m no longer falling or moving, it was an illusion. I am in place, but the wind is flying above me. Shadows of creatures and visions I cannot see, except out of the corner of my sight; we exist not on the same plane. I, however, now feel between my earthen, controlled realm, and this extra-terrestrial dimension. I can feel powers beyond my control, from beasts I cannot comprehend without succumbing to insanity.

Constellations I have never learned, never read of or dreamed about scream around me to be of themselves. But they are not. They are foreign to me, but exist in and of dimensional rifts. Only to be seen by the others that surround me. I fear I will be free of my interspatial prison, for the jailers only are interested in my insofar as death. Stealing and eating my life force. Then, my body will plummet back to Earth, beaten, torn asunder. They will find me, freshly dead, missing for an innumerable period of time. But I was not sent here. I arrived, I traveled of my own accord. This is somehow my doing, and I will master this horrible nowhere zone. I will, one day. I can feel it. Years are but a breath to me. I believe in myself; and although I feel my life was never what it should have been, it is now amongst true horrors that I dwell. I have a soul, and that places me above these indescribable bursts of gods of cosmic indifference.

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