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Written by Delilah Draken (pen name same)
- Diary, found as graffiti
Most people are afraid of me. Afraid of what I'd do to them, make them do. Most people don't understand what it means to know what I know, to have seen what should never have been allowed to be before man's eyes. They watch what I do with their cold hearts and frozen souls and laugh behind their facade of virtue and justice because at least one of them is able to break the rules.
So easy to break them. So easy to kill them. So easy to lose yourself in the illusion of life it creates. But maybe that is all I'll ever be. A means to an end, only breathing because it amuses those who watch, only existing because… because.
They told me I'll never see the sun again. Told me that nobody ever got out of this place and lived to tell the tale. Well, my dear guardians, you've never had me as your guest.
The room is bathed in light. Bright and deadly it opens the path, shows the way for a traveler to find their way through the very fabric of time and space. Fire follows the light, burning cold in its destructive protection of those within its core. Sound seems to leave the room and only silence remains after.
Whatever this thing is, the lone inhabitant of the room thinks, it surely knows how to make an entrance.
He has to crawl over the freezing cold metal contraption that fills his tiny hole… sleeping quarters. He really should begin to think of it as something like a home, even when there couldn't be a more hopeless word to describe this place. After more than ten years he has maybe not lost all faith in ever getting out of this oh so nice penal colony but there seems to be a certain touch of reality invading his mind that just cannot be silenced, cannot be avoided to be listened to as it tells him of a fate that can never be changed. At least not without outside help.
And it looks like the pilot of this baby is my ticket to freedom, he thinks with a smile that most people would call a cruel smirk.
Written by kleenexwoman42 (pen name kleenexwoman)
Marty leans back in the DeLorean as the car shudders to a halt. "Jeez," he says to the Doc. "That was a bumpy landing..."
Doc Brown does not answer, and Marty realizes that the old man is unconscious. He must have hit his head on the dashboard; he's slumped over and there's a thin trickle of blood running down his face.
"Oh, shit," Marty mutters. He slaps the Doc's cheek lightly. "Doc? Are you okay?"
The Doc does not respond. Marty begins to panic. What if he never wakes up? What if he's dead, and they're stuck in--Marty glances at the digital readout--the year 2405? And it's all his fault, he's the one that was so keen on seeing the future.
The window is starting to unfog, and Marty closes his eyes. He isn't sure he wants to see the future this far ahead, now. Maybe if he sits still and waits, nobody will notice the DeLorean and the Doc will wake up and they can go home...
The driver's side door of the DeLorean opens. Marty's mind races with possibilities, all of them bad. He scrunches into his seat, trying to look as inconspicuous and harmless as he possibly can. "Please don't hurt me," he says, and opens his eyes.
He sees a pair of clear, pale blue eyes inches from his own--it's just a man, not a robot or an alien or some kind of post-nuclear mutated freak. (He hopes.) There is something about the man's jutting nose, thin lips, and the black hair falling over his face that seems familiar, but Marty can't place it. He's seen this face before, but it's changed, blended through generations of DNA.
Marty takes a deep breath. "Can you help us," he says, his voice squeaking. He gestures towards the Doc. "My friend's hurt and I think we're lost. Is there a hospital near here, or..."
The man's face twists into a smile. "Help you? No. I can't do anything. I'm lost too." His voice is clear and high and strangely familiar, but there's a rasp in it like he's growling. Or like he hasn't spoken to anybody for years.
"You're lost?" Marty tries to see outside, but the man is blocking the door, and there's nothing but greenish-white surface next to his window. "Where are we?"
"This is where they keep you," the man says. "This is where they send you after they say you're broken." He lets out a high giggle. "Like a pig in a cage on antibiotics."
Oh God, the man's insane. But he's the only source of information Marty has about the world he's gotten into, the only thing Marty has to go on. "Who sends you here?"
"The system," the man snarls. "The perfect system. I had an operation..." His expression changes. "You have to get me out of here. We need to get you out of here."
This is the first thing he's said that Marty agrees with. "How do we get out of here?" Marty asks.
The man crawls into the car and settles himself between Marty and Doc's limp body, then reaches over and shuts the door. "If I knew, I'd have been out of here ten years ago. It's your vehicle. You got in here. You can get me out."
Written by Delilah Draken (pen name same)
Quite amusing how his life sometimes plays with his head. Here he sits, inside of a thing he knows he has seen before but can't place where, and talks to some boy who is as afraid as he himself doesn't dare to show. What in the name of all thirteen Hells of Yrtan is going on here? And does he even care as long as it is a means to his end?
He looks around himself, watches the boy posture protectively as he touches the tiny rip in the other man's skin, brings the digit to his mouth. Tasty. Is slightly irritated at his reaction. Didn't the doctors tell him he wouldn't ever get a chance to be what he is, the monster that they fear? Doesn't the boy realize that he intends no harm? Doesn't he?
His fingers return to the place they want to be, to the gash in sleeping beauty's skin and press harder than he wanted to. Ouch, that has to sting. But the man with hair like fallen snow moves, so he couldn't have done that awful a thing he hopes.
No longer interested in the now waking figure he turns around and finds himself in front of the most beautiful thing in the whole universe, make that the whole known omniverse. This is the reason why his memory is running amok to find what he can't remember. This is the key. Or better said, a gatekeeper. A transportable, tiny and by the looks ancient gatekeeper. How did those two find such a thing? Where? The technology was destroyed and every knowledge of this fact prohibited after the great disaster of 8931 PC-IV (Post Colony IV - approximately 17397 AD). Every scientist was executed. How did they do that? And is he enough of a fool to ask?
Slowly, as to not disturb the rest of this vision, his head moves back to the boy, then to the numbers in front of them. 2405, PC-XI he adds at the end. Yes that is the date. Ten years, four months, 17 days and 25, 8 hours after he set foot into this paradise for the first time. Looks at the boy again. Tries to smile, won't come out right. Tries again.
"I was eight when I first saw what they don't like us to see. I didn't realize I broke their rules till much, much later. Didn't want to know, only wanted to stay home and be safe. Protect my princess, my sister, and just he happy, you know. They found me three years later. Took me away, took my princess as far away from me as you can get without leaving the galaxy, brought me here." He is breathing hard, can't get enough air in. Afraid, so afraid of what they did to princess, what he imagines being done to princess. But no, there is no time for fear. Not now. Not ever again. Never again.
Never, never, never again.
"For her I was a warrior, a black knight. For her I played at being a normal human and not the monster that I am." Now the smile is genuine, heartfelt in its simplicity. "She called me Erik."