Chaos Theorem

Prologue

In a lot of books, prologues have an aura of destiny, an aura of magic, an aura of inspiration. Those books have heroes which triumph over their problems, and have control over their situation. Those books have dragons, and unicorns, and an evil mage, and at the end a satisfying conclusion which brings a tear to one's eye.
  This is not one of those books. In this book, people die, often unnecessarily, and there's always someone are watching. Always. Nothing is as it seems. Can our heroes see through the mist and into the light? Can they even be referred to as heroes? What is a hero?
  And in the end, why does it matter?
  People aren't as simple as good and bad, those terms are outdated, and oversimplified. People aren't as black and white as that.
  So if someone is viewed as 'bad', what are they? They're labelled, that's what they are. They may adopt that label and never change. Take a killer, for example. Killers are bad, aren't they? But what if you were forced to kill someone?
  Are you 'bad'? Or is there more to it than is on the surface?

  Marla was a servant for a women she only knew as The Mistress, and she though it was an honour like no other that she got to live to serve her. On that fateful morning, Marla was tidying The Mistress' bed, as she did every morning.
  The Mistress was a Founder. Marla wished with all of her heart that she could be a Founder, and be important like The Mistress. But this story isn't about Marla. She is merely a dot in the vast expanse of the universe. The Mistress didn't live so that she could care about dots and minor blemishes. She was more invested in the bigger picture.
  The bedsheets did look nice tucked up against the corner of the bed, though. That made Marla happy.
  Marla knew that, as a Founder, The Mistress' day had to go impeccably. There was no other option. That was because tomorrow was an incredibly important day for The Mistress! Marla was not going to be the one responsible for distress the day before.
  Marla had been working for The Mistress for ten long years, and now she was 55 years old. She was looking forward to retiring. It was all she lived for at this point, other than The Mistress.
  Back when the decade had started, The Mistress was but a teenager. She had grown up so much since then! Marla was as proud as if The Mistress was her own daughter. In a way, since The Mistress was an orphan, she was Marla's daughter, even if not officially.
  And then The Mistress entered the room. Her face looked grave and cold, as if she were dead. It was an out of place look on the young woman's face.
  Nevertheless, Marla kept up her facade, "Mistress! You are looking absolutely stunning today."
  The clock on The Mistress' wall punctuated the silence.
  "Thank you for your service for all these years, Marla." the Mistress smiled. A fake smile. Something was wrong.
  "It's... it's been a pleasure, Mistress." Marla laughed and curtsied tactfully.
  "As you know, the special day is now upon us." Elise continued curtly.
  "Yes. It's rather exciting, isn't it?"
  "Yes, yes... but I hope you understand that my identity must be kept a secret?"
  Marla felt a pang of fear tinge the back of her throat, as if a fly had just flown into it and was spreading disease all over the back of her oesophagus.
  Marla swallowed and ignored the metaphorical fly.
  That was, until she could ignore it no longer. The door through which The Mistress had entered the room was slightly ajar. As a breeze flew through, Marla realised that The Mistress could get cold. She wanted to stay on her good side during this... odd period.
  "I'll shut the door, you'll catch cold..." Marla said out loud, moving cautiously past The Mistress, as one would move past a sleeping lion, and put her hands on the door.
  That was when she smelled the horrible smell on the other side of the door.
  The unmistakable stench of blood.
  When Marla opened the door, she saw that on the other side were...
  People. Dead people. Servants, like her. They were strewn all over the floor. Their soulless gazes and forever-screaming mouths drooled blood, and the image easily etched its way into Marla's eyelids.
  "No... why..?" Marla moved backwards, shaking, and turned quickly.
  The Mistress pointed a gun at Marla.
  "Goodbye, and thank you again. Unfortunately, your services are just no longer needed." The Mistress shrugged, as if this was a completely normal thing to do.
  Marla's scream was quickly cut short.

***

  The first thing I noticed when I woke up in the chair was that my sword was gone, but there were many more pressing matters. Like, where was I? When was I, as in how long had I been out? And also where could I buy this chair, because damn, it was comfy.
  The room was small, begging for the people inside to be majorly claustrophobic, but that wasn't me. I, Kat McGuffin, would never be afraid of something like a small room!
  A bang sounded outside, and I screamed.
  Ok, so maybe I wasn't completely fearless, but I was close! Well, close-ish. I got up and went to the door at the end of the small, cube-shaped room, marvelling at the luxuriously soft red chairs one last time before I shoved the door open and looked around at... a theme park?
  The sky was blue, also lilac, as if the sky hadn't decided what colour it had wanted to be yet. The stones in the floor were uneven trip hazards (especially for clumsy people like me) and were an adorable peach colour. Happy people were clustered everywhere, and joy radiated from every ride, every smile, every word that was uttered.
  Why did fear seem to be an appropriate reaction? Because the question still remained - where the hell was I? And why did this happen?

To be continued...

Words: 1028
Pages: 6.5