After writing my blog post for yesterday, I suddenly "heard" another sequence in this universe. Although a writer may be waist deep in another story line or book, sometimes characters from other projects will suddenly come to the surface, ready to tell their tale.
I hope you enjoy the new "sequence" In the M A V E N Universe.
Reject the Synthetic.
File: M A V E N Chronicles
I know these streets. Back of my hand. I have to keep running. I won't let them get me. Not again. The stains are still on my chin. I don't remember anything. I want to remember. I can't remember. Damn. Forget this. Everything, they said. They want me, everyone, to take what's in their hand. Take it, there you go. We love you. Can't you see that? We are your world now. What you used to know – forget. Close your eyes and take what's in our hand.
I want to run. I am running. I think, therefore. I am running. Always night. Never the sun anymore. I want to remember what it was like.
I can feel the ice running down my neck, slowly, slowly. Fear. Feeding through blood. It takes and takes and leaves nothing. I want to remember.
I heard a whisper once. I heard. Something else. Something that is. I want to hope but they won't let me. I run because I want to hope. I left it all: clothes, credits, assignment. Loving and gullible husband. Two and a half kids. I saw when they cut – not substantial to the Synthetic, they said. The blood sprayed. I felt nothing. Only smiled. Yes, I said, The Synthetic. I heard a whisper, once. Of something better. She comes, they say. She who is feared by those who are blind. I heard that whisper.
I want to close my eyes. Just for once. Close my eyes and not be afraid.
I feel them staring at me. Everywhere. I run because I want to breathe.
A hand, dirty and powerful, touches my face. I am numb. I watch it unfold before me. The hand, an arm, a body, a man. Real eyes not damaged by the Synthetic. He tells me that he's been looking for me. He knows I've heard the whispers. She asked for me, he said. I want to trust him. I want to close my eyes. He places a hand on my back. I'm in a room. Smells, scents of things that are real. I see others, dressed in black. They see me and smile. I can't feel my mouth. Did I rip it off? I see Her. She sees me. I feel something leaking from me. I look down and see thick liquid dripping from my hands. The others, they tell me that it is finally leaving me. She made it happen. She knows what is beyond that which holds you back. The liquid is cold.
I close my eyes. Dream.