Story

When Marin and Saera, escaped, they ran to the right. When Terry and Ardo escaped, they ran to the left. And it just so happened that their four chambers had been Placed along the corridor such that all of them ran Towards each other. They were all headed each others’ way. “MARIN!” Saera shouted as she saw her blue-haired friend Running straight for her. “SAERA!” cried Marin out as she Saw her friend come flying towards her, just off of the ground. The old best friends reache

Terry felt that he was sliding through a tunnel, wet, Like something inside the body, like a birth canal. He wondered if this was what he’d felt so long ago When his mother birthed him—then his thoughts angrily spiked Because now he realized his birth mother was a lie, Just another lie told to him by the Technocrats. Sliming, oozing, he was pulled til he emerged within Another chamber, another blackened metal dome. Brother Crick was there already, with more Technocrats, Alrea

“No. No. No!” screamed Saera. Tears came from her silver eyes, Thinking of her mother and the warmth of her tight hugs. “It is true,” said Arius, “however much you wish To deny it. The real truth is, WE created you. We used our technology to form the four of you Metaphysically, each one joined with their element.” Arius then chuckled, faintly, underneath his breath. “Who would have imagined that old Plato was correct?” “Who the FUCK is Plato?” Ardo asked, his voice a snarl. “

Saera, Marin, Ardo, Terry one by one could feel Pricking over all their bodies, something subtle, small, But it grew, as time went on. It came into their hearts Then spread through their chests, their limbs, their spines, their heads, their brains, Bringing all of them ever so slowly out of sleep, Tickling them with the faintest hints of cruelest pain, Breaking them from slumber. They awoke, each one by one. Saera slowly opened up her gleaming silver eyes... But then they bul

That evening, Saera was reading in bed. She was getting a head start on reading for Monday, because there would be a test on the novel they’d been assigned for English class. She had already showered and changed into her pajamas. “Saera?” “Oh, yes, Mama!” said Saera brightly, as her mother came into the room. “Hello!” “I just wanted to tell you good night,” said Aemelia. “I have to be at the office early tomorrow for a weekend work session, so it’s possible I won’t see you

It was Friday, April 15th. The sky was sunny, and nearly empty of clouds. A cool, gentle breeze blew from the south. Terry sat with his back against a tree, in his backyard, and stared up into the sky. His hand idly flicked, down near his waist. As it did, the dirt around this hand shifted, moved, rolled and danced, sending up the faintest puffs of dust. He glanced down, seeing the dirt move. “This is still so weird,” he said. “But it feels good, doesn’t it?” said Marin, si

That evening Terry was reading in his room. Or trying to do so. More homework, as a test crept closer in his English class. This was a novel about a family on the verge of falling apart. “I don’t need you telling me what to do!” cried Daniel. “You do so many stupid things it would be better if you listened!” cried Abigail. “You’re the worst mother ever!” Daniel responded. Mother. Terry put the book down and sighed, as a lonely emptiness bubbled to the fore of his heart. H

Terry smiled. “Happy birthday, man.” Ardo grinned at him. “Thanks, dude!” It was April 1st, and Ardo was fifteen years old today. They were walking away from the curb, where Ardo’s aunts’ car was just pulling back into the street. Ardo stuffed his hands into his pockets. The day was warm, and breezy; Spring was in full bloom, flower petals drifting on the air. Ardo twitched his gaze at Terry, then, ruby red eyes sparkling. “How have you been? I know you didn’t want us to com

That evening, Saera laid on her bed, reading. She kept on reading, though she was displeased with what she read. She was reading the book of poems that her mother had gotten her for Christmas. She had tried to pace herself, reading only a few poems a day; Saera liked to stretch out the pleasures of a book, and so she was a deliberately slow reader, only reading short amounts of any given book on any given day. For Saera, a book ending was cause for alarm, and sadness. So she

Softly blew the breeze of Spring ‘round Saera as she sat, Sat and yet could not ignore the cramps that she now felt, Felt amid her thighs and in her abdomen as well: Not too bad a pain, yet something she could not ignore. “Mmm,” she mumbled, softly, sitting in the silence of English class, as the teacher lectured. It was such a normal sound, to almost anyone. But Marin sat in the desk right next to her, and Marin was not anyone. Her navy eyebrows rose as she heard the noise