Post by deadguydrew on Nov 3, 2009 9:32:54 GMT -5
Alain looked at the clock-radio before he placed the blotter on his tongue, waiting for the telltale sensation of reality folding around him. The music that played from the small radio on the nightstand next to his bed, seemed to wane, the notes flowing from the speakers turning fuzzy. He tried to remember what it was he was listening to, but the armadillo that crawled out from beneath his bed was tugging on his pants leg urgently.
“Get up Alain! You're supposed to be on the proving grounds. Damn it, get up!”
It was odd, the female voice of the armadillo reminded him of somebody he thought he knew, but before he could pry the name from his addled brain, he decided to follow the stream of musical notes that flowed from the radio, past his head, through his quarters, and out into the halls of California base.
“Finally--wait where are you going?! The 'grounds are the other way!”
Following the multicolor stream of notes through the cave-like halls, Alain realized that his uniform had grown heavy, his shoulders straining to hold up the cotton-blend. Laboriously he undid the buttons to his uniform, each one as large as a manhole cover, the shirt fluttering to the ground as he mustered the last of his strength to shed the garment. The armadillo padding behind him had grown larger, the shelled creature picking up the shirt like it weighed nothing. Alain was sure it was still trying to talk to him, but he realized that the notes were starting to get away from him, and he hurried after them like a rat would a piper.
Somewhere along the way, he exited the base while chasing his rainbow of music, much to the armadillo's chagrin. Shedding his increasingly heavy clothes as he walked, he chased the music to the shore of the Pacific Ocean. The music had faded, consumed by the red waves of blood. He saw the dead, bobbing in the crimson waves with the corpses of half eaten dolphins, and whales. In the distance he watched as the conqueror worm, larger than any creature he had ever imagined, tore a whale in half. Screams echoed across the beach, Grace never realizing they were his own as he watched the monstrous creature advance toward him.
“Alain? Stop this! There's nothing wrong! Alain?!”
The armadillo-that-wasn't stood in front him, the pieces of his uniform at its feet. He watched as the creature reared back, and then with one of its paws slapped him. It was electrifying, the shock of pain, the spread of warmth across his cheek. As he fixated on the armadillo he realized that it looked less an armadillo, and more a woman. Without thinking he reached forward, pressing the not-armadillo to him, and kissed her.
---
The cold water lapping at his feet woke him from his slumber. He could feel the cool air flowing over his body, and the grit of the sand beneath him. He felt the form of a woman next to him, and as he woke up more he realized neither of them wore clothes. It took him a few more moments to sit up, his first thought of how beautiful the woman next to him looked in the moonlight. Then it hit him; moonlight, water, he was still on Earth. Putting his face into his hands he simply groaned, ignoring the stirring form next to him. How could they have been so wrong?
“Get up Alain! You're supposed to be on the proving grounds. Damn it, get up!”
It was odd, the female voice of the armadillo reminded him of somebody he thought he knew, but before he could pry the name from his addled brain, he decided to follow the stream of musical notes that flowed from the radio, past his head, through his quarters, and out into the halls of California base.
“Finally--wait where are you going?! The 'grounds are the other way!”
Following the multicolor stream of notes through the cave-like halls, Alain realized that his uniform had grown heavy, his shoulders straining to hold up the cotton-blend. Laboriously he undid the buttons to his uniform, each one as large as a manhole cover, the shirt fluttering to the ground as he mustered the last of his strength to shed the garment. The armadillo padding behind him had grown larger, the shelled creature picking up the shirt like it weighed nothing. Alain was sure it was still trying to talk to him, but he realized that the notes were starting to get away from him, and he hurried after them like a rat would a piper.
Somewhere along the way, he exited the base while chasing his rainbow of music, much to the armadillo's chagrin. Shedding his increasingly heavy clothes as he walked, he chased the music to the shore of the Pacific Ocean. The music had faded, consumed by the red waves of blood. He saw the dead, bobbing in the crimson waves with the corpses of half eaten dolphins, and whales. In the distance he watched as the conqueror worm, larger than any creature he had ever imagined, tore a whale in half. Screams echoed across the beach, Grace never realizing they were his own as he watched the monstrous creature advance toward him.
“Alain? Stop this! There's nothing wrong! Alain?!”
The armadillo-that-wasn't stood in front him, the pieces of his uniform at its feet. He watched as the creature reared back, and then with one of its paws slapped him. It was electrifying, the shock of pain, the spread of warmth across his cheek. As he fixated on the armadillo he realized that it looked less an armadillo, and more a woman. Without thinking he reached forward, pressing the not-armadillo to him, and kissed her.
---
The cold water lapping at his feet woke him from his slumber. He could feel the cool air flowing over his body, and the grit of the sand beneath him. He felt the form of a woman next to him, and as he woke up more he realized neither of them wore clothes. It took him a few more moments to sit up, his first thought of how beautiful the woman next to him looked in the moonlight. Then it hit him; moonlight, water, he was still on Earth. Putting his face into his hands he simply groaned, ignoring the stirring form next to him. How could they have been so wrong?