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Duality
Boards creaked. Wind howled. Thunder rang. Rain poured against the concrete below and splashed relentlessly against the brick walls of the building; each drop timelessly eroding the outside world. It was silent.
Zan hated the silence. Only the thoughts within his own head played through his ears. He never attempted to speak; he knew that would do him no good. To Zan the world of noise was forever dead and gone.
Perhaps death was a better fate for that world. The world outside no longer flourished naturally. Or mechanically. It most certainly flourished though. Zan understood this. There was no questioning the matter.
No light came from the outside. That was a lie of course. Lightning provided brief moments of relief from the darkness. Those could not be depended on though. And most certainly they could not be trusted.
Zan never wanted contact with the outside. The inside gave security. The outside gave death. Death was freedom. Freedom elicited fear. Freedom caused this. Flaws, errors, defects. All unneeded.
This was fact. Zan knew he wasn't brainwashed. He knew he was not delusional. There needed to be someone in control for masses to be brainwashed. There was no organization. There was merely survival.
Before those in control granted freedom. Freedom brainwashed the masses. Freedom provided illusions of security. Freedom provided illusions of utopia. Utopia lasted infinitely. Forever in the past world.
Utopia could not be revisited. Utopia lasted for an eternity. That eternity was frozen in the past. The past was a delusion. Zan knew this. Each memory recalled is restored different. Utopia changed.
Time continued to turn, adding more to the past. Adding more to eternity. The present was not an illusion. Another bolt of lightning filled the sky. Zan hated the temporary escape from darkness.
Light was a sweet taste for the mind. Light was poison. Light meant freedom. Light meant you could be seen. And being seen meant you could die. Light was always in the future. The future held only facts.
The wooden floorboards whined. Zan caused this sound, although he could never hear this. He still knew. He could see the pain of the panels beneath him. Zan knew this building. It was his security alone.
Zan walked through the door of the room into the hallway. The building did not approve. Zan did. He needed to move. Often. They would check. They would also recheck. He would locate. He would relocate.
Zan could see the walls of the hallway. Dead. Zan could feel the walls of the hallway. Dead. Zan could smell everything around him. Death. Zan could not hear; but he knew what the sounds would tell. Life.
Life was something Zan could not experience. Zan knew life only came through sound. He knew that the world of noise was forever lost to him. He still knew he was alive. He still knew he could die. All life ends.
Another lie. All life that concerned him ended. He knew that they would always be there. He knew they would never die. He knew they could never die. He turned a corner. Death was around the corner.
Zan was well versed with how to handle confrontation with death. Fight or flight. There was no fight. Fight guaranteed loss. Fight guaranteed death. Fight was not an option. There was never a choice.
Flight did not guarantee loss. Flight did not guarantee death. Although flight always results in both. Flight was an option. Flight allows for more time. Closer to the future. Further from the past.
The building did not approve of flight. The floor voiced its disapproval loudly. Zan didn't have to hear to tell. The building was unforgiving to flight. The halls were short; the stairs were long. Always.
Despite the attempts of the building to halt flight, it occurred. Zan knew it well. It was his, it could not stop him. They could stop him though. They were why flight needed to occur. They enjoyed it.
Lightning flashed. Another bolt fired into the sky afterword. The lapse between light decreased. The light was helping them. The light was trying to get him to look. The light wanted him to accept death.
Outside there was room for flight. Zan never considered the outside. The outside was freedom. The inside was security. Zan stayed inside. Zan went lower. There was a basement. The basement had light.
Zan never wanted to enter the basement. Light was produced there. There was light. Zan forgot this. Fear leads to mistakes. Zan entered the room. The floor was hard here. The floor felt awful when hit.
The basement blinded Zan. He collapsed instantly. They did not catch him. Instead they charged forward, knocked off balance from Zan's fall. They hit the generator. The generator proved to be unforgiving.
Although that's inaccurate. They did not hit the generator. A singularity hit the generator. They implies a plurality. Zan forgot this. In his eyes, he had survived. They had died. The impossible was done.
The entire event had happened quickly, but the room had been bright. Zan could see everything perfectly. The singularity that passed over him looked hideous and even more so after being electrocuted.
For a brief moment, Zan contemplated accepting the light. However that train of thought instantly ran out of steam when Zan noticed the other half of the plurality approach him. Zan blacked out shortly after.
The darkness was comforting for Zan. It offered familiarity. It represented security. However one doesn't remain blacked out for eternity. Zan was forced to return to reality. He found himself outside.
Zan was moving. Zan couldn't move. The rain from the outside belted against him. Attempts to struggle were futile; he was constrained well. He knew death was quickly approaching him. He looked at the singularity.
The singularity looked back. A lighting flash illuminated both of their faces. Zan was not phased. The singularity smiled. Then frowned and looked away. Zan knew his life was now forever out of his control.
Time passed. Zan acknowledged the present. Zan anticipated the future. Zan did not remember the past. Security did not exist in the present or the future. Only the past contained this. The past was a delusion.
Zan soon realized he was inside again. The singularity secured him to an operating table. Zan was not secure. Security was nothing but a delusion. The singularity aimed a bright light toward Zan. Darkness returned.
Zan did not return from the darkness to the operation table. Instead he returned to the past. Zan realized his memories were delusions, altered each time recalled and restored. Regardless, Zan embraced them.
The modern world had once flourished naturally. There was an ecological balance. The world had once flourished mechanically. His kind had done this. His kind payed special care to the ecological balance.
The past was enjoyable. Freedom was life and death only existed in the future. Zan's memories were delusion generators. Survival did not involve eternal flight. However even the past has its own future.
Time progressed in Zan's past. Soon the present was the past and the future was the present. Zan recognized the singularity that had carried him to the outside and back to the inside. He saw its past.
The singularity had come from an unknown race encountered by modern world. Regardless, they were not his race. Soon the singularities became pluralities. The pluralities had two distinct halves. Always.
The original half were similar to his own race. However they were not his own race. The other half of the pluralities, the one he had seen die in his future, were foreign creatures. They were death.
Light filled and surrounded Zan's eyelids, forcing them open. Zan found himself stripped of everything. His head had been shaved. His body was covered in markings. Something was different though. Noise.
The singularity was a distance away, sharpening a tool. The buzzing was loud, and only grew louder. Soon it began to grow unbearable for Zan. The sound triggered visions. Zan began to see more of his past.
Loud, sharp noises of metal plagued the past. The original singularities were successful in having the secondary singularities destroy the human race. Few survived. The sounds were the creation of darkness.
The more humanoid singularities constantly worked on a machine. The noise had been unbearable, driving any into insanity. The noise had been why he did not hear. The machine was what took away the sun; the light.
Suddenly the noises came to a halt and Zan came back into the present. The singularity approached him with an assortment of sharpened metals. Zan knew they would be involved in his own death, surrounded by light.
"Time waster." Zan's eyes widened, surprised by his ability to hear the singularity speak. "Things go much faster when you roll over and die." Zan remained silent, unsure of what to do. "Now I need another."
The singularity began to take measurements and write them down. Zan saw the sheet. Listings of limbs to be shortened, liquids to dye the skin, and removal of certain areas. Zan spoke. "What do you want from me?"
"What you took from me." The singularity took a knife holding it steady, scanning Zan's body looking where to start. "I guess I'll work from the top down." The singularity turned the lighting up and aimed.
Zan's eyes widened in response to the sudden change in lighting. However before they were able to slam shut, the knife came straight down into Zan's left eye. The knife came out with the eye and Zan began to scream.
Zan could hear the pain. The terror in his own voice. He began to cough, unable to handle the sudden operation. "One eye works better when hunting fellow man in these conditions." Zan blacked; freedom.
Duality
Boards creaked. Wind howled. Thunder rang. Rain poured against the concrete below and splashed relentlessly against the brick walls of the building; each drop timelessly eroding the outside world. It was silent.
Zan hated the silence. Only the thoughts within his own head played through his ears. He never attempted to speak; he knew that would do him no good. To Zan the world of noise was forever dead and gone.
Perhaps death was a better fate for that world. The world outside no longer flourished naturally. Or mechanically. It most certainly flourished though. Zan understood this. There was no questioning the matter.
No light came from the outside. That was a lie of course. Lightning provided brief moments of relief from the darkness. Those could not be depended on though. And most certainly they could not be trusted.
Zan never wanted contact with the outside. The inside gave security. The outside gave death. Death was freedom. Freedom elicited fear. Freedom caused this. Flaws, errors, defects. All unneeded.
This was fact. Zan knew he wasn't brainwashed. He knew he was not delusional. There needed to be someone in control for masses to be brainwashed. There was no organization. There was merely survival.
Before those in control granted freedom. Freedom brainwashed the masses. Freedom provided illusions of security. Freedom provided illusions of utopia. Utopia lasted infinitely. Forever in the past world.
Utopia could not be revisited. Utopia lasted for an eternity. That eternity was frozen in the past. The past was a delusion. Zan knew this. Each memory recalled is restored different. Utopia changed.
Time continued to turn, adding more to the past. Adding more to eternity. The present was not an illusion. Another bolt of lightning filled the sky. Zan hated the temporary escape from darkness.
Light was a sweet taste for the mind. Light was poison. Light meant freedom. Light meant you could be seen. And being seen meant you could die. Light was always in the future. The future held only facts.
The wooden floorboards whined. Zan caused this sound, although he could never hear this. He still knew. He could see the pain of the panels beneath him. Zan knew this building. It was his security alone.
Zan walked through the door of the room into the hallway. The building did not approve. Zan did. He needed to move. Often. They would check. They would also recheck. He would locate. He would relocate.
Zan could see the walls of the hallway. Dead. Zan could feel the walls of the hallway. Dead. Zan could smell everything around him. Death. Zan could not hear; but he knew what the sounds would tell. Life.
Life was something Zan could not experience. Zan knew life only came through sound. He knew that the world of noise was forever lost to him. He still knew he was alive. He still knew he could die. All life ends.
Another lie. All life that concerned him ended. He knew that they would always be there. He knew they would never die. He knew they could never die. He turned a corner. Death was around the corner.
Zan was well versed with how to handle confrontation with death. Fight or flight. There was no fight. Fight guaranteed loss. Fight guaranteed death. Fight was not an option. There was never a choice.
Flight did not guarantee loss. Flight did not guarantee death. Although flight always results in both. Flight was an option. Flight allows for more time. Closer to the future. Further from the past.
The building did not approve of flight. The floor voiced its disapproval loudly. Zan didn't have to hear to tell. The building was unforgiving to flight. The halls were short; the stairs were long. Always.
Despite the attempts of the building to halt flight, it occurred. Zan knew it well. It was his, it could not stop him. They could stop him though. They were why flight needed to occur. They enjoyed it.
Lightning flashed. Another bolt fired into the sky afterword. The lapse between light decreased. The light was helping them. The light was trying to get him to look. The light wanted him to accept death.
Outside there was room for flight. Zan never considered the outside. The outside was freedom. The inside was security. Zan stayed inside. Zan went lower. There was a basement. The basement had light.
Zan never wanted to enter the basement. Light was produced there. There was light. Zan forgot this. Fear leads to mistakes. Zan entered the room. The floor was hard here. The floor felt awful when hit.
The basement blinded Zan. He collapsed instantly. They did not catch him. Instead they charged forward, knocked off balance from Zan's fall. They hit the generator. The generator proved to be unforgiving.
Although that's inaccurate. They did not hit the generator. A singularity hit the generator. They implies a plurality. Zan forgot this. In his eyes, he had survived. They had died. The impossible was done.
The entire event had happened quickly, but the room had been bright. Zan could see everything perfectly. The singularity that passed over him looked hideous and even more so after being electrocuted.
For a brief moment, Zan contemplated accepting the light. However that train of thought instantly ran out of steam when Zan noticed the other half of the plurality approach him. Zan blacked out shortly after.
The darkness was comforting for Zan. It offered familiarity. It represented security. However one doesn't remain blacked out for eternity. Zan was forced to return to reality. He found himself outside.
Zan was moving. Zan couldn't move. The rain from the outside belted against him. Attempts to struggle were futile; he was constrained well. He knew death was quickly approaching him. He looked at the singularity.
The singularity looked back. A lighting flash illuminated both of their faces. Zan was not phased. The singularity smiled. Then frowned and looked away. Zan knew his life was now forever out of his control.
Time passed. Zan acknowledged the present. Zan anticipated the future. Zan did not remember the past. Security did not exist in the present or the future. Only the past contained this. The past was a delusion.
Zan soon realized he was inside again. The singularity secured him to an operating table. Zan was not secure. Security was nothing but a delusion. The singularity aimed a bright light toward Zan. Darkness returned.
Zan did not return from the darkness to the operation table. Instead he returned to the past. Zan realized his memories were delusions, altered each time recalled and restored. Regardless, Zan embraced them.
The modern world had once flourished naturally. There was an ecological balance. The world had once flourished mechanically. His kind had done this. His kind payed special care to the ecological balance.
The past was enjoyable. Freedom was life and death only existed in the future. Zan's memories were delusion generators. Survival did not involve eternal flight. However even the past has its own future.
Time progressed in Zan's past. Soon the present was the past and the future was the present. Zan recognized the singularity that had carried him to the outside and back to the inside. He saw its past.
The singularity had come from an unknown race encountered by modern world. Regardless, they were not his race. Soon the singularities became pluralities. The pluralities had two distinct halves. Always.
The original half were similar to his own race. However they were not his own race. The other half of the pluralities, the one he had seen die in his future, were foreign creatures. They were death.
Light filled and surrounded Zan's eyelids, forcing them open. Zan found himself stripped of everything. His head had been shaved. His body was covered in markings. Something was different though. Noise.
The singularity was a distance away, sharpening a tool. The buzzing was loud, and only grew louder. Soon it began to grow unbearable for Zan. The sound triggered visions. Zan began to see more of his past.
Loud, sharp noises of metal plagued the past. The original singularities were successful in having the secondary singularities destroy the human race. Few survived. The sounds were the creation of darkness.
The more humanoid singularities constantly worked on a machine. The noise had been unbearable, driving any into insanity. The noise had been why he did not hear. The machine was what took away the sun; the light.
Suddenly the noises came to a halt and Zan came back into the present. The singularity approached him with an assortment of sharpened metals. Zan knew they would be involved in his own death, surrounded by light.
"Time waster." Zan's eyes widened, surprised by his ability to hear the singularity speak. "Things go much faster when you roll over and die." Zan remained silent, unsure of what to do. "Now I need another."
The singularity began to take measurements and write them down. Zan saw the sheet. Listings of limbs to be shortened, liquids to dye the skin, and removal of certain areas. Zan spoke. "What do you want from me?"
"What you took from me." The singularity took a knife holding it steady, scanning Zan's body looking where to start. "I guess I'll work from the top down." The singularity turned the lighting up and aimed.
Zan's eyes widened in response to the sudden change in lighting. However before they were able to slam shut, the knife came straight down into Zan's left eye. The knife came out with the eye and Zan began to scream.
Zan could hear the pain. The terror in his own voice. He began to cough, unable to handle the sudden operation. "One eye works better when hunting fellow man in these conditions." Zan blacked; freedom.
