I figured this would be early in their relationship. I just sort of thought about it and had to write it down. Hopefully it sparks ideas or can be thrown in somewhere.
“So, Adrian,” Felix started, finishing another bite of his meal, “why aren’t you pretty?”
She looked up at him immediately. The question had taken her by surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Well, I mean, you could be pretty. Dress up, right? Or you are pretty but you haven’t…” he trailed off and made a puzzled look before turning back to her, “You know.” Feeling satisfied he took in another mouthful of food. Adrian continued to stare at him, unsure whether to be insulted or not. Felix noticed her confusion and began again, “Take your tabard for instance, it’s so old and faded, why not try more civil clothes of the city?”
“You mean like you,” she stated blankly.
“Exactly,” he smiled and started cutting another piece of steak. “Personally I like to dress up for every occasion; such is the slacks, shirt, and vest. The overcoat is what keeps it casual and allows me to wear it anywhere,” he paused and thought, “Plus, it makes me look cool.”
“And helps you hide your weapons.”
It was the first time Aurelius had spoke during the entire meal. Adrian had long finished eating and had saved what she could in her bag. Aurelius had been quietly eating throughout the whole conversation.
Felix looked at him, “Well that too.” Adrian shook away the subject and looked out the front of the restaurant.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” Felix had thrown down his utensils and regrettably gotten Adrian and Aurelius’ attention, again. “Guess what I got,” they stared at him, Adrian sighed. “I got an actual piece of armor!” With this announcement he pulled from his pack a dark bullet proof vest. It was used.
Adrian was instantly confused seeing it as just a fabric chest plate. What good would that do?
Aurelius thought it looked bulky.
“And?”
“Well, it’s a bullet proof vest,” Aurelius started to eat again, “from Endlong. One of the merchants was selling it. The thing’s pretty high-tech for being this far out in the country. I figured I should give myself some more defense as not to be completely useless. At least until I can reload these things faster,” he gestured to his derringers, “Since I’m at a distance when fighting anyway, something like this is all I need.”
Aurelius chimed, “What happened to dressing up nice?
Felix looked at his purchase, “Well it’s a little beat up sure, but I think it still looks distinguished for a piece of armor. Just how Adrian won’t give up her family crest for some clean clothes, I’ll always have something for my image, even if it is just a fancy adjective.”
“So, while Adrian boasts her family name, you boast you’re ‘distinguished’?” Aurelius was getting impatient having to stop eating each time he spoke. He would have to try Felix’s mouthful method.
“Yep. And your adjective is ‘coy’.” Felix looked at Aurelius’ hood and tried to remember where each of Aurelius’ hidden blades was. He knew he was missing one.
“Um,” Adrian started, “What’s a bullet proof vest?”
Felix quickly remembered where Adrian had come from and apologized for not explaining. “Well, it’s a vest made out some special material and basically, it stops bullets.”
I had looked up from my bed. You hadn’t left, but just lay next to me still sleeping. I sighed, a combination of relief and joy. I tried to adjust myself without waking you up and failed. You groggily looked up at me and we smiled. Breakfast could have been better, but then again I’ve always sucked at eggs. You made the pancakes and they were great. They were always great. But those days had ended; you made pancakes for someone else now. I keep trying to make better eggs, but they’re never as good as they were that day.
“What the buck?!” he shouted.
“What the heck is going on?” I responded.
“I thought you knew the answer to that!” he retorted angrily.
“Screw you!” I spat at him before adding, “But seriously, what the heck is going on?”
“But seriously. I don’t know!”
He had lost it. I had lost it! And neither of us knew what the junk was going on.
“I seriously don’t know what the junk is going on man.” He grimly stated.
“Me neither dude, me neither.” I really felt like no one had learned anything by the end of all this.
“God dangit!”
I stepped down from my resting place on the stairs and looked at all the men cheering and hollering at the bar. When I walked up behind them they hushed instantly. One made the mistake of smiling, a single glare and it was wiped clean. A last step and I was at the bar. They all knew when I got up from my seat another would be taken. I saw a young man at the end of the bar. No fear, no knowledge of my existence. He was new, on his first glass. Ignorance is bliss, and I am addiction.
The lights were brighter than he imagined when he walked down the white hallway. There was the slightest hum coming from the machines evenly spaced down the way. The hum would almost breach its comfortable din when he walked past them, but would settle down until he walked by the next. They all appeared to be in use.
The machines, or hubs, as he’d been told at the entrance, were as white as the walls, but had a gloss finish. The lights’ reflections slid across the hubs in pace with his steps. His steps, and the steps of the one before him, were the only sounds that broke the hum of the hall’s machines.
The hall seemed to be endless, but the boy’s guide stopped between two hubs before the boy could be lost in the hall of white. The boy might as well have been lost when the guide walked toward an empty wall. But when the guide placed his hand on the wall a digital number and word appeared. It seemed they’d stopped at room 425B and under the blue numbers was the word ‘CLEAR’. When the guide tapped the wall again it seemed to gasp and collapse backward in the shape of a doorway. The guide gestured him inside.
When he entered he was surprised to find the sustained hum of the machines had subsided and all he could hear was the doorway closing back behind him. What surprised him even more was that the room he just entered was no more than the size of his own bedroom and had a much dimmer and greyer tone than that of the hall he had entered from.
There was one hub in this room, right in the center. It had more of a metallic finish, but reflected the light all the same. The guide again placed his hand down, but this time he placed on the hub. It gasped just as the door had and split around its middle. The top half rose up and slid back to reveal a comfortable looking seat. The guide gestured again before activating something on a blank wall causing a digital keyboard to appear like the room number outside.
While the guide continued to type, the boy found his way into the seat, finding it much more comfortable than he first thought. Before entering the hub he made sure to investigate the machine. It was rounded, mostly towards the top and became wider at its base. Four cylindrical columns seemed to be grafted to the corners of the base. One very large and wide cord came out from the front of the hub and curved directly into the ground. There was one similar on the back of the device. It was exactly like the ones in the white hallway, the metallic finish being the only noticeable difference.
As he got more comfortable in his seat the boy noticed that the room was much warmer than the hallway was. The dim light and warmth of the room made the boy drowsy, sinking deeper into the chair. He had never felt so comfortable.
The guide had finished typing and walked to the edge of the hub to see if the boy was situated. Once confirmed the guide placed their hand again on the hub causing it to gasp like before —softer this time— and it began to close around the boy. Lights came on inside the hub as it closed and the soft thump it made didn’t bother the boy at all. Everything seemed to be in place to keep him as comfortable as possible. A screen appeared inside the machine that showed the guide standing by the keyboard.
As the boy’s reality began to shift he heard the guide say the same as he did when the boy walked in, “Welcome to the museum.”
There once was this girl.
All the worst stories start and end this way and this one is no different. I mean. It starts with that line. I’m not saying it’s going to be one of the worst. Well I hope it isn’t. That’s up to you, and whether or not you like this story.
So, there was once this girl.
Well there’re usually girls, not just this once. Girls have existed for a while. Like me. Well, maybe. I’m a narrator. I’m not sure I have a gender.
As I was saying…
Uh…
I can’t remember the story now.
A long time ago, when I was little, I remember seeing this tall woman. I knew she was tall, because I could see the top of her head outside of my bedroom window. I always saw her in the mornings before school, so I never had a chance to walk over and get a better look. There was something strange about her, too. She always sort of spooked me.
I could never see her eyes; just the hair on the top of her head.
Once, though, I was sick. Usually when it was a weekend or when I was sick she’d be gone, as if she knew I might look. But this time I threw up right before I was going to leave… to get on the bus. I can recall nausea as I went back into my room, and saw the top of her head just outside the window frame.
I crept over, and looked.
I only bring this up because a week ago I saw her again outside of the kitchen window. And while I looked away before I could really make out any of her features, I knew that she had risen high enough so that she could stare back at me.
And that’s why I’m not going to be staying in your apartment anymore, Madeline.
Amicus adjusted his gloves before stepping out to address the invaders in the tower atrium.
“Good evening,” he said.
Their warrior began to charge, without provocation, her legs pounding across the concrete floor. She was young. She wore chainmail, and carried a sword and shield.
Amicus held up his right hand, and the girl stopped. Amicus hadn’t actually done anything yet; he felt that gestures were more likely to elicit reaction, though. When the soldier became confused, Amicus shifted the world.
The swordswoman watched her iron rust, and her shield rot.
“Let’s discuss this,” Amicus said, grinning beneath his mask.
The first thing I noticed was that there were no lights on the walls or ceiling. People had long thin strands around their clothing and necks, and these were the sole sources of illumination.
You’ll understand if this seems dark.
Addy led me past a table where three young girls were drinking shot glasses full of a thick red liquid.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“They’re doing shots,” she said. She took me by the hand and tugged, smiling.
Next I saw a skull tattooed man. One of the bright strands was worming its way into a cut on his arm.
I was left in the cold dim air between existence and nothing.
“Hera?” I called.
But I already knew she was gone forever, and so I crawled across the cosmos until I found a home, a hundred years later. I suppose I should consider myself lucky. It’s a nebula that towers light years across and millennia can pass from one side to the other along its circumference.
We’re all still there, on a planet I formed from the dust and gas.
It was on one such planet that life formed; a trick Hera never taught me, so I had to wait for it to happen on its own.
You call the place I landed Devil’s Mouth, and I suppose it’s a proper name, for I am a devil, and things do tend to burn once they fall into it.
But do not mistake me for a god. Amber flows through my veins, not blood. I am a being of time, not space. I’ll fall back into the past once I grow tired of the present, or perhaps fling myself into the future as I wish.
I looked far ahead once.
But there was less there than here, so I left.
The amber dripping from the holes in my hands scared them, I think. They raised their flintlocks and fired in unison, as though commanded by gods.
I tried to dash to the side. It’s hard to do that when you’ve lost most of your blood.
I fell into the elevator with a soft thud beside Hera’s feet. She looked down at me like a cat to a dead dog, and then dragged my feet inside and hit the button for the enth floor. The elevator ascended like an angel.
“I never wanted it to end this way,” she said.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
I could see the redness dripping from her tear ducts and knew that I’d really done it this time.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again.
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” she said. “I told you it makes you sound weak.”
All the while I pulled the knife from its sheath within my coat. “I have to do it.”
She reached into her chest and pulled out her heart, and handed it down to me.
I stuck the knife into the gears and held the heart tightly. My fingers slipped once but by then the universe had stopped.
When I stepped into the living room it was with the careful grace of someone trying to avoid hidden piles of animal droppings (this is the most accurate metaphor I could come up with because my pets used to not be entirely trained).
It was the dark of night, the darkest I mean, and the only illumination was the soft orange glow from the streetlights through the shutters. They cast uneven lights on the sofa and loveseat, which fluctuated as the vents blew warm air over the drapes.
I saw a shape move in the kitchen doorway across the room. I had the baseball bat in my hands as I advanced, ready to deal with this unwelcome intruder.
“Son?” He asked as I, now in full swing, realized who it was I was about to kill.
I would have asked him what he was doing in my house, why he’d broken the locks on the back door to get in, why he hadn’t called first, where he’d been for the past three years, but instead, he was on the floor, bleeding from his skull which it turns out I fractured in three places.
The police said they don’t believe me.
