Beyond the Darkside 33-6 to 15


Madness

The silence left in Isaac’s wake filled the expansive office like water filling a reservoir, and like water, it threatened to drown Aldric where he sat. Thoughts rushed about like currents in a great sea, pulling him with them, spinning him about in little eddies that went nowhere, crushing him under their weight before threatening to pull him apart.

How was it possible? How had he survived? Were they talking to him too? Were they protecting him? Why had they not told Aldric? Was there more to this than his plan? Was Margaret behind this? Why couldn’t the stupid fucker die?

Continue reading “Beyond the Darkside 33-6 to 15”

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Beyond the Darkside: 29-14 to 17


Michel Foucault, painted portrait DDC_7450.jpg

The whisper of voices in his mind grew louder as he pondered his hand. Power. Control. Strength. All of these could be his now. Until now, he only thought he had those things, but this second life would make him the true master of men. Their lives were his to toy with and the universe itself would quake at his presence. All he had to do was complete the plan. Forget the petty distractions that plagued him. The whore and the traitor would get their punishment soon enough.

Aldric smiled and leaned against the dented shower wall. Yes, they would get what they deserved. They all would. The foolish politician, the power hungry military, and the greedy investors would all get what they had coming. He was a visionary and if they could not see their way to the future without being in his way then he would crush them all. Continue reading “Beyond the Darkside: 29-14 to 17”

Beyond the Darkside, 29-12 to 13


rhythm
English: backjet of a drop of water after impact on a water-surface. Français : rejet issu de l’impact d’une goutte sur la surface de l’eau. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Once he was satisfied, Aldric shut off the water and stood in the stall, watching the droplets of water fall from his hair and skin to the floor below. The chaotic rhythm of their impacts on the ceramic made him smile. “Perfectly imperfect,” he said. The longer he watched the droplets the more he suspected the pattern was anything but random. The voices that hid at the back of his mind whispered impossible formulas and forbidden lore not meant for human understanding, but he was no longer truly human was he? With each passing second an answer began to form in the eldritch rhythm of falling water, but the moment the secret was to be revealed the water stopped and he was left with maddening silence.

He screamed and punched the wall. The steel buckled beneath the blow, but it barely registered in Aldric’s mind. He pulled back and looked at his hand. The skin was red, but unbroken. There were no shattered bones, no blood, and no pain. Aldric uncurled his fingers and flipped his hand over. He was not a religious man, so he stopped well short of calling it a miracle, but there was no other word that properly conveyed his thoughts on what happened.

100-Word Challenge, Day 104


Margaret strapped herself into the chair, waiting for the end to come, but it never happened. She counted the seconds. One…two…three…four. As she waited, she wondered whether she would even realize the end had come. Would she be vaporized, or would the room simply crack open and send her spilling out into the void of the moon’s surface? Whatever it was to be, she feared and longed for it to hurry up.

Time passes slowly in the dark room with only the warning lights to keep her company. Seconds stretched to hours in her mind as she watched the amber lights from on to off to on again. She feared she may go mad before the explosion ever killed her.


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