They constantly try to escape
From the darkness outside and within
By dreaming of systems so perfect
that no one will need to be good.
The filthy pile of humans stirred, awakened by the stream of light illuminating their prison; their home. It was all they knew. Each day was the same, the sun rose and set, food appeared and they ate, needs were felt and relieved, then they slept and awoke to the same routine. Very rarely was there need for speech, the woman and the man being too dispirited and tired, the girl-child unknowing of this ability.
She was intensely curious however, and loved to explore the tiny space they had, each day finding something new and exciting. She’d turn, face suffused with glee and wonder, pointing and giggling. But they would not respond, faces set in a bland, emotionless mask. Only once had she evinced a response; she had gone to the forbidden corner, where the sun never reached. And there had been exciting new things and toys to play with, white sticks in a great variety of shapes that she could twist and turn and clack together! That had been a glorious day, the happiest she could remember.
But Mama hadn’t been pleased. She had yelled and shooed her away from her toys, making her sad and tearful. Then they both cried. That had been a scary day. She made sure not to go there any more, and for the most part would sit and stare at the black web that blocked the doorway. There was so much more beyond it, and she yearned to go out and play and run free. But she knew she couldn’t. It was the one thing Papa had impressed upon her; the deadliness of the Notweb. He had captured a spider – one of the only creatures that used their space – and thrown it just below the Notweb. What happened next still haunted the girl. The thing grew, expanding to the cover the doorway and the dark nub at its centre leapt out and grabbed the poor spider; its squeals were pitifully few.
She watched it almost constantly now. Carefully, she tiptoed closer. It pulsed when she neared, making her shiver with fear. She didn’t want to meet the spider that had made it. If indeed it was a spider, the only thing she could identify it with was a web and yet it was unlike any she had seen. In any case it would be a mean one, of that she was certain. And yet, the web had a frightening allure, and sometimes she found herself wanting to reach out and stroke it, caress it. Each time this happened, she’d scamper away from it, afraid and unsure. Just like now. Cuddling up to her mama’s lukewarm flesh, she snuggled in and slept, ignoring the pangs of hunger in her stomach.
********
The woman stared forward as the sun slipped downward and a rainbow hue of colours bathed the room. Naela loved it when that happened and would be disappointed at having missed it. She reached down and stroked the girl’s golden hair, tears sliding down her face. The girl didn’t even know her own name, it had been a struggle identifying themselves as ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’ and after that they had lacked the effort to try anything else. Indeed, those two simple words had become their identity.
This place, the unending years of nothing, eroded their spirits. They were the last ones. The end of humanity. There had been more of them once; some had braved the climb, finding easy footholds but never an end. They always fell, and now nothing remained but rust coloured stains in the stone. Others suffered inexplicable bouts of madness and attacked each other raving and frothing at the mouth. Some merely wasted away, losing the will to live. Always, their calls for help, and screams for mercy had been ignored.
Mama felt the pull as well, the urge to walk up to strange darkness that stretched across the doorway and fall into its dark embrace. The pain would be welcome, the death even more so. If not for Naela she would, but she feared for the girl and the predatory gleam she saw in Papa's eyes. So she endured. Currently, she was waiting for the food to appear, as it did every day, at the precise moment that night fell. She had long since stopped questioning or wandering how it was so, she simply accepted.
Turning, she regarded her companion, Papa; he was sleeping. He did little else lately, apart from stare eerily at Naela. Their nakedness was a hindrance she admitted to herself, not that it caused them any physical difficulties as the temperature always remained the same.
Looking forward once more she spotted the platter. Getting up, she walked over to the food, and then froze. Something was wrong. There was heaviness, a presence, that hadn’t been there before, questing and searching. It latched onto her mind and wrenched it open brutally. Crying out she fell to he knees, abrading them on the stone.
: Hello mortal.
A voice; old and whispered. Who was speaking to her, and from where? She looked, craning her head, searching. Had she finally gone mad?
: You are perfectly healthy, I assure you. I merely wished to speak to you.
It was in her head! Groaning, she grasped her head in her hands and rocked back and forward. She had known painfully little in her life and this was just too foreign.
: Ah, I see you are discomfited. Allow me to arrange this better to your liking.
With that, she felt an uplifting rushing sensation. Unbeknownst to her, her body crumpled to the ground as she was pelted forward. Mountains, rivers, forests – a vista of colour and majesty that she drank up like one starved. ‘It is all so beautiful’, Mama thought sadly.
In a blink it had vanished and she found herself in a wonderfully warm room. Sense reeling, she swayed, trying to get an impression of the room: oak panelled, with a roaring fire and lush, richly woven rugs covering the floor; it was the essence of luxury. The only piece of furniture was a giant bed, in which an old man lay breathing heavily. No, not a man at all, she realised, looking closer. The angles of his face were too narrow, his ear’s too pointed and the eyes, --piercing her—were slit like and golden. His head propped up against pillows, amid a heavy fall of snow white hair.
Then he spoke. “Does this suit you better?” He asked. In person, his voice lacked the power she had sensed earlier.
“Its … ah, it’s …” she stopped, perplexed. She was clothed, a simple white shift adorned her frame. It was beautiful and she loved the feel of cloth against her skin … but, how was this all possible? Mama didn’t want to even begin thinking about what was happening. Already her head hurt. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself.
“Who are you and what do you want with me?”
She saw a smile flicker on his face. “Relax child, and sit down.” He said slowly. “You have nothing to fear. Abruptly, she found herself seated, on a chair she could have sworn hadn’t existed a moment ago. “Now, as to your question. The simplest answer would be, I am the Lord and Protector of this world. The defender of primordial earth.”
“Why should this concern me? I have nothing to do with you. I don’t even know if I should be here or what they’ll –” she gasped suddenly, a terrible thought occurring to her. What if their captors noticed her absence? What would happen to Naela?
He seemed to guess what she was thinking. “You need have no fear on that account, ‘Mama’ is it?” Seeing her nod, he continued. “You see, I am that captor. I was the one who authorised the capture and subjugation of your people.”
The words came like a blow, shocking her system. Her mind reeled with questions, but one stood out. “Why?” she whispered in horror. “Why would you do this to us?”
She saw his face crease in sudden pain. His hands, trembling with palsy, raised the blanket upward to his chin, as if he wished to hide. “I had no choice!” he whispered fiercely. “I have seen what your people—your kind— will do to this world and I could not allow it.” He paused, a sudden bout of coughing shaking his frame. This, this was what had brought her proud race to its knees? It was surreal. Even now she couldn’t help but feel certain contempt. But above this, there was anger, sudden and strong.
“You can’t justify the murder of an entire race! Not even the murder of one!” she yelled. Then stopped, pausing in sudden fear. This was after all, her jailor.
“Oh my dear, please don’t be afraid. You have every right to be angry. But please, let me at least show you the why of it all. I fear simple words will not suffice.” Raising a hand, he closed his eyes and mumbled a few words. The effect was immediate and stunning; the room was ripped away and she saw the beginning of her people, proud and strong. The building of the first hut, the birthing of the first children and the start of the spoken word, these she witnessed. Then events accelerated and she saw the swift and overpowering growth of her people, and their eventual domination. And always, as time passed, the earth suffered. The skies grew polluted and dark, the forests in all their majesty withered away, and the clear waters of the seas were fouled with waste. You dreamed of systems so perfect that no one needed to be good.
She cried out, wanting it to stop. This is mere possibility you witness; what would have happened should I not have intervened. On his word the images changed. Now showing her scenes of rape over the centuries, of murder, regicide and attempted genocide. The horrors her people perpetrated against themselves was shocking in its brutality. Could she really fault the events that saw this terror stopped? You cannot escape from the darkness within, none of you could.
“Stop it” she said. The images fell away and died, to be replaced once more by the room and the man. Her face was wet, she realised suddenly. Reaching up she felt the salty discharge as it trailed down her face. Nor was he immune, for azure tears sparkled in his eyes and fell, down into the seams of his face. “What about Naela?”, she found herself asking.
“Already taken care of,” he said sadly. “Now it is time to say goodbye.”
She wasn’t surprised. She wasnt anything anymore, her strength, her character, had been leeched away while she watched. She saw her sprawled body, ashen grey in the morning light. She should've felt something, anything, but she didn't. The last thing she saw, as she passed from the world were the sprawled bodies of Naela and Papa. He had, it seemed taken advantage of her passing and tried to rape Naela, for he was sprawled on top of her body. Both were dead, eyes glassy and staring, blood pooling from their slit throats. The last she knew, were the softly spoken words.
“Forgive me.”
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This didn't exactly turn out as I'd hoped it would, but at least I got the bloody thing in.
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