VISUAL PROMPT

by Troy Olson @Unsplash

Your protagonist has recurring nightmares about this place...

Keyhole #5: Guilt

The tree was red crystal branching from a thin trunk that dug it’s roots into the barren earth. I climbed it, my skin brushing against the pines, my feet digging into the junctions between branches. Above, the stars shone brightly. In Almerine, there are no stars. The light pollution and smoke outside the dome only allow hazy moonlight to blanket the City of Hope.


I cracked my neck and grabbed onto another branch. It immediately snapped, smacking against the trunk with a rustle of pine. This kind of thing would usually bother me. Heights. Climbing. Creepy trees. But in my dreams, which I half accept it is, I have no fears. At least not of falling. I have a feeling that if I slipped, I would fall, and then I would fly.


Maybe I should try it.


With this new motivation, I hook my leg over the highest branch and shakily stood on it, balancing with practiced dexterity. I looked down at the ground, which never seemed so far away, then at the sky, endless and expanding with stars.


There. That’s where I want to be.


Away from thoughts, eyes, and hands. Away from the Outerlands.


I take in a deep breath, the air so sharp and cold that I wonder if I am even dreaming. The thought lingers, forming doubt. I pinch myself, and it hurts. I make the mistake of looking down again, and immediately my foot slips, my limbs flailing with some degree of practicality until I am upright on the branch. Some of the pines on the branch shake, even a minute after I had stumbled, still and clutching my pounding heart.


Everything is silent. The crimson pines tremble again, before they fall on the ground in puddles of blood.


I am breathing heavily, which surprises me. I am scared, but never that scared. Then it hits me. The breathing is not my own. It is hot on my neck, labored and groaning.


“Vedra. Come back.”


The creature stands larger than the tree, thin and metal and red. It wears the tattered coat, an emblem of The Heart embroidered on the breast pocket beating and pounding louder than my own.


“No. No, no. You are dead! I killed you. And I won’t apologize because you are the brilliant idiot who volunteered!”


I am too afraid to look above it’s neck, the peripheral view of his- it’s face..too grotesque to bear. Not because of the horror but because of the reality. I did this to him. Test after test of each project, each trial.


“Look at me.”


It anguishes, it’s head lowering in a hunched position. I close my eyes. When I finally open them. I see it. I must be a coward, because I shut my eyes as soon as I do. A melt of skin, bone, and chrome metal. I just don’t remember the eyes this vermillion red.


“No. I can’t,” I shut my eyes tighter as I feel red creeping in the corners of the black.

Without much thought, I leap from the tree, imagining wings, concentrating on flying to the stars. The wind hits my face but I am unsure whether I am going up or down. Please work. Please please work.


I open my eyes, and see that I am suspended in the air, it as if I am detached from my body.


The soft body of a woman hits the ground. She does not bleed, but red roots sprout from her body and outwards, caging the creature, the tree, and everything else. It hunts hungrily, unsatisfied. I recognize her.


It’s me.

Comments 1
Loading...