Taint, part 3

Before her was a vast countryside, filled with rolling green hills and forests surrounding them, no civilization in sight. So, she thought. This was her mind. Massive, and…empty? Maybe this was a part of her currently dormant mind, which would evolve and change without her knowledge while she was awake. Stepping out from the ruins she had created, onto the soft grass, Sierra decided it would be interesting to try hurting some of this world and see what would happen. She imagined a pentagram on the ground, cut in the grass. Inside the circle, which she could have easily stood in with arms spread out, she conjured a pillar of flame, charring the ground. As expected, she could feel a faint spike of pain throughout her body.
So why hadn’t she felt anything when she destroyed the dungeon?
“You’re thinking quickly, dreamer,” said a man from out of nowhere, who was suddenly standing by her side. He might have been tall; Sierra couldn’t judge, didn’t care. His fedora, worn and aged, looked more weathered than he did.
“Who’s the one who had that hat first?” she asked.
“It’s all…a dream.”
“Then who are you?”
“Not part of you.”
He stepped back a few paces, pulling out four playing cards. Sierra saw they were the King, Queen, Jack, and Ace of Hearts. With lightning speed, the man threw the cards at her.
Back to manual breathing, full control. Inhale. Wind, obeying her, pulling the cards together into a near-paradoxical shape, one end on top of the next card, whose other end was on top, so that they joined perfectly. Exhale. The cards, spinning together above her head, whistled with sheer speed.
Inhale. Direct the wind with a flick of the hand, making the cards spiral to the man. Exhale. Intentional dissipation before contact, only to be brought back by the wind in a vortex, coming around behind him and slashing him to bits.
Returning subconscious control, Sierra stared as the man turned to dust; his hat drifted to the ground. Picking it up, she decided it looked nice so she put it on. It did nothing good for her long black hair, but this was a venture in her mind. She had no reason to care about things like that. Suddenly, everything looked different. It was more faded, turning into black and white. She removed the hat, tossed it up into the air, and brought a bolt of lightning down from the blue sky. The ash settled on the grass a few moments later.
“So you didn’t like the gift?” another man said.
“Where are you from?”
“We’re a parasite of the mind,” the man said. “It’s amazing you’ve lasted this long without breaking—no, being broken.”
“But don’t parasites want the host to live?”
“Oh, we don’t care if you live. By the time you’re lost, we’ll surely have infected at least one other, and they will be conquered much more easily.”
Full control one more time. Inhale. Pull to the point of equilibrium. Power. Intake all the power. Slide back into body. Exhale. Rain, hail, lightning falling from the sky. Over in a distant region, the taint was not affected. Inhale. Electricity, flowing from everywhere and nowhere, tearing at the parasite. Pieces, flying off, everything else traveling to another spot in the mind. Exhale. Every remaining scrap of power released into mind. Shudder.
Inhale. Earth quaking, throwing her from side to side. Chasm opening. Exhale. Fall in.

Eyes (Short Story, only one part)

So, I wrote this one a few weeks back and hadn't remembered to put it up here until now. For those of you who may have read the manga Parasyte at some point, this'll make maybe a little more sense, since I based some of it off that.


John remembered this dream, or ones like it. Today was the fifth anniversary of when he started having this dream. As always, he woke up tied to a chair, arms at his side. The chair was the one he sat at in his dining room, just a generic chair. He had been in dentist’s chairs and thrones with sharp edges. But today, he felt an empty space at the back of the chair where there was usually a slat.
Looking up from the chair, John saw the man he always saw, who looked a little like him, but better. He walked back and forth a few feet away with an iron rod in one hand, a hammer in the other. Turning his head, John saw a forge and an anvil. This didn’t look good. The light that came from nowhere and everywhere, as is usual in a dream, hurt his eyes tonight.
“What are you going to do with that piece of iron?” John asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
The man didn’t respond; instead, he placed the rod in the forge until it was white-hot, then put it on the anvil and started to hammer the end into a sharp point. John saw no bucket of water to cool the metal. No, this looked downright bad.
Open your damned eyes, body, for once, John thought. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open. Openopenopenopenopen…
Stepping close to John, the man spoke: “You have committed a crime.”
“What crime is that?”
“Child neglect, and attempted murder,” the man said.
Bringing his arm back, the man took the iron poker he created and thrust it into John’s belly, waiting a few moments before taking it out. John emitted a scream.
“I wanted—” thrust in “—to be friends.” Pull out “You—” thrust in “—left me alone.” Pull out
John moaned. “Who are you?”
“A creature—” thrust in “—of your dreams.” Pull out
“An alien? A parasite?”
The man stared John in the eyes. “The second one. I was,” thrust in “your eyes.”
“Some parasite,” John said, gasping as his body withered on the inside from the burns, “who kills their host. Let me open my eyes, or I’ll die here, and you will too.”
“You will recover from the pain,” the man said, twisting the poker around in John’s stomach.
“I’ll be a vegetable mentally. And you will be left to die, stuck inside a breathing corpse.”
“Why don’t you want to be my friend?”
“I can’t live in the world of dreams forever. You’ve damned yourself, parasite. Damned…”
Everything faded.

Taint, part 2

Still not the end (of course)


Inhale. Yes, she was still alive. She could see. Darkness, though, with occasional torchlight. Winding corridors surrounded her, an utter labyrinth inside her own mind. Exhale. She couldn’t forget to breathe. As she walked, the shadows danced around her, making wild shapes upon the cold stone walls and floor. Was this a dungeon?
Inhale. The moisture and musk of that left untouched for ages flowed freely into her nostrils. She remembered who she was. Exhale. Nothing could stop her now.
Focusing, she let her body regain control of breathing as she pulled herself out of her miserable physical form. The body tried to pull her back in until she removed herself just far enough to hang in equilibrium. She pulled all the fire, all the energy from the air, wrapping it around her, inside her. She could barely see her arms raise like lightningrods to the power through the dancing sparks that invaded her vision.
With a gentle push, she slipped back into her body fully, closing her eyes for a few moments before reopening them. Everything appeared more vibrant, more intense, more detailed. And so, she imagined fire before her. A tiny ball of it appeared, barely the size of a grape, hovering a few feet in front of her. Sierra envisioned it contracting into one point, and then expanding on through the other side. Just as when she had partially brought herself out of her body, she had to exert a force of will on this globe of fire. It wrapped itself in, shrinking into a single point. Sierra started walking back, letting the fire hang in its own state of equilibrium. To be safe, she brought up a barrier of air, spiraling larger and pointing around her so as not to let anything touch her.
The point exploded; the entire area near her ripped itself from everywhere else. In her mind’s eye Sierra saw an entire universe being made from this point, as “science” taught it. No, this was true creation, caused by a bit of willpower, as fire brought itself to be, igniting once-damp air. Sierra closed her eyes and let everything settle after the fire burned itself out in seconds, seeing ruins when the dust had settled. Everything was open to her now, every bit of unexplored region in her mind, except that which had forced her here. She must stop the taint.

Another story, Taint

I needed to get writing again...this is only the first part.


Perfect was the girl’s dream, even though she could not see. Flawless as she drifted around, as closely connected to her dream as her hand was to her. Everything was blissful, everything blossoming or growing, magnificent and majestic.
Inhale. The scent of spring, of coming rain, of pollen drifting like she was. Exhale. Perfect.
Inhale. Clouds coming closer to her, or she to them. What was that in the background, that sound? Metal, grinding on metal, faint but still a roar in the girl’s ears. Exhale. How did that taint still remain? She could feel it in her lungs, a toxic, metallic residue which was inevitably destroying her.
She had to get away. Think, think! Anywhere but here! A seaside cliff, with the sound of crashing waves, scent of salt everywhere. There the taint was, drawing closer, screaming like a banshee, metallic sounds and rust flying everywhere. Inhale. Closer yet, again ripping her apart. She must jump off the cliff! Exhale. Now, or she would be wiped out by this taint.
Somehow, she fell. Was it a rock that tripped her, or a more physical bit of the gale? Inhale. Energy pulsed in the air, threatening to rip her apart or deafen her. Crawling, she found the edge, pushed and leapt, without seeing anything. Exhale. The taint was falling behind. Yes!
Inhale. Water, so close, about to make contact…
Exhale. Alive. Reality. She opened her eyes, saw nothing. Breathing harder, she felt herself crying. No, she couldn’t be crippled! No, she couldn’t go back to that taint! No, it couldn’t be manifesting itself in this reality, too! Passing out, drifting off…nothing left…