The Initiate

The Initiate

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Oct 7, 2014
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Fiction
Science Fiction
Reality is relative. The sky is blue. Most would agree this is true; they need only to look up to prove it to themselves. Take a pleasant evening walk, though, and you will watch your blue sky turn to colors of blazing flame or purple majesty. Your reality has just reshaped itself. If someone now asked you the same question, you wouldn't say the same. And the difference is only a few hours. There are those who simply surrender to whatever reality is presented to them. Some question the reality, but are not strong enough to break free from its grasp. Then there are those with a higher sort of power. This is the power of imagination. A person wielding formidable imagination has the ability to grab hold of reality, to twist it and mold it as he sees fit. Common people cannot realize this, because whenever imagination is used to alter reality, they accept the new facts they are given. They are weak. It is up to us, as the Chosen, to give them facts, hard truths their limited minds can cling to. We, however, are free. Free to go where others cannot: into the deepest recesses of our imagination. We are not without difficulty, however. We are still susceptible to others' imaginations. You must be strong; those more powerful or clever than you will force their reality upon you. You will become nothing more than a phantom of their creativity. No other conflict approaches the dire strife when imaginations go to war, because all other conflicts only ever existed within the imagination. The day of Reckoning shall come, and you must be ready. Good luck, we will be watching you. -Message from Teachers to Chosen Initiates
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I'm about to tell you a story about a girl. A normal girl. A girl that had no cares in the world, until her trust for it was stripped away. When you read her story, you'll find yourself trusting her, loving her, rooting for her. But you see, not everyone gets to trust the world. Not everyone has a happy ending. --- Halfway through the kiss however, his attitude changed; instead of being a loving embrace, it became a fierce trap. His grip on her waist tightened, trapped her where she was instead of simply holding her where he wanted her. The hand in her hair grabbed a section of it, enforcing his demand for her not to go anywhere. Before she knew what was happening, he left go of her hair, and pushed her to the ground. She gasped, suddenly able to breathe. He stood up and walked over to her. He placed a soft hand on her cheek, just like he used to when he was telling her how special she was to him. None of the emotion was there this time however, all she could feel radiating from his was rage. "You shouldn't have run off, babe," he said bitterly. "I was about to show you how much I loved you. Instead, I now have to show you what happens when you anger me." --- The men regarded her, before she was shoved to the ground and one produced a whip. There, laying broken on the floor, as the other girls watched, she was whipped. Slowly, she felt her skin breaking in time with her heart and her will.

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