Rupert flipped the switch, and in that instant Laine knew that all but one hope was lost. (well, all but two because there is always the chance the machine won't work. Ok maybe three or four. Rupert might turn everything back on his own or slip up somehow. So it really wasn't that hopeless, but still the chances of turning everything back were slim.) Her vision went blurry and everything swirled. She blacked out as did he. Uel had already been knocked out hours before.
They all 'awoke' in the same positions, but scene and costume had changed. Instead of the sanitary white lab they were now in a dark dungeon-like room lit with torches. Laine now wore black trousers and a black and red dyed leather jacket. Rupert was in purple and brown trousers and vest. Ual wore the same but all black. Still Ual was strapped to a table. Still Laine was strapped to a chair. Still Rupert was grinning his charming yet evil grin, his hand at the lever. "So it does work," said Laine. (That's one less hope.) "Of course it does," snapped Rupert. Ual was to stunned to talk. Laine tried her voice again,"So, what's the next part of your brilliant plan?" Her only satisfaction (if one could call it that) was that grin and a mocking stare. Rupert turned and left, taking the light of the torches with him.
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I plan to start working on this, but I'm not going to publish it as it's own work until I have a good bit more. It will be a long process, possibly including more than one book.
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I wrote this for a sci-fi contest. It's the 150 word limit end of the world one. This bit will likely take place in Seven Envies toward the end:
The machine was gossamer against touch. It felt cool against the cuts and burns upon my hands. Assuming the same relief would be brought to my cheeks, I leaned the side of my face against it as well.
My stomach rose to my throat. It suddenly came back with a harsh dirt floor. Pain echoed through my bones. Remains of the old floor surrounded me. There he was. - Oh! Why could I never recall his name? – A concrete slab trapped him on his back. I forced myself to crawl to him. My hand slid past his black curly hair, down his face, to his neck. A weak beat swirled in my head. His mouth twitched, opened. I imagined words, though I knew my ears refused sound.
The beat faded.
All was white.
The world had ended.
A new one surfaced.
This change I will never regret.
YOU ARE READING
A Collection
РазноеHere is where I might publish some bits and pieces of what I have written. They may become more, or maybe they won't. Please check them out. Perhaps if you tell me to, I'll elaborate on one sooner than later.
