|Red on Grey
Author: D351 PM
A very strange story that takes place in a very complicated future/dystopia that I don't begin to explain in the text and haven't fully standardized within my own mind. I've deliberately left the gender of the main character unmentioned, as an irrelevanceRated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Fantasy - Words: 1,052 - Published: 09-25-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2418789
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
-1Red on Grey
The cinderblocks and concrete walls stretch for kilometers. Sometimes I comedy to myself about how we're all in the cracks of some great sidewalk. I've heard rumors that humans are losing the ability to view certain colors. I don't know how fact that is, but I know that I can still view red. And I know I'll continue viewing it for a long time. If they could, I'm sure, they'd take that away, but I know what I view and I know what I viewed. Through the smog, I can just make out the location of the sun. Despite the heat, there is nothing more comforting than that program, especially today. Without it, there'd be no red. The adults inform that the smog was a byproduct of progress, but I have my own theory. I think they've been trying all these years to make the sky as grey as everything else. They've yet to control the sky, and they've yet to control me. They will never block out the sun, and they will never block out what I've viewed.
This morning, I aywalled my programming. I know the punishment for non-presence, but I've seen the hole in their security. I haven't been to my programming in weeks now, and I find my newfound unactivity far more productive than I had initially estimated it would be. The walks have led to a great deal of unassisted bulbs that, though non-standard, seem to be of potential importance. This morning, however, led to some unexpected programming; programming that I know I must keep to myself if I'm to retain my signal. Wandering the complex, which I discovered to be my only alt, I saw a light stretch out from an other's chamber. As anti-logic as it was, I felt compulsed to view its source.
Within the chamber, I viewed an old Phos-4, aimed at where the tile should be, and, where the tile should be, I viewed a vast hole. At the bottom, I viewed red, more red than I had ever viewed from above. And, in the midst of this disruption, I viewed an older, male other fetaled in the corner of the red. From what I could view, it was horrered by my viewing it in, as I estimated, its hole. Confused by its reaction, I climbed down the hole, a distance of approximately 1.5m. Upon better viewing me, it rose to program me with a procession of cueanays. Its cues were all of the sort I would've expected, as it was still quite horrered. Once I and it had programmed and viewed each other thoroughly, I and it stabilized. Once stabilized our interactive programming and discourse over mine and its bulbs. This programming led to two simple agreements; neither I nor it were to program anyone with what we had viewed today, and I had to find a usage for the red at the bottom of its hole, as it would soon be removed to the elder complex. It said that this would be its last program against them, but that, if I found a place to dig, I could find the red under any of the buildings in the complex. Then it programmed me to leave immediately, before they got there. I had barely moved beyond the next chamber, when I sounded the boots stamping and the horrored screams of it, coming from its hole. I reversed in to the chamber next to its, to not be viewed by them. I could sound a series of muffled noises for a little longer, but they were of short duration. It was not long before I could sound those boots stamping back from whence they came. I stayed concealed within the chamber long enough to sound a few more of them coming and going at much slower pace than the first group. After waiting long enough for my own horror to subside, I ventured back to its hole.
Everything was exactly as it was the first time I viewed except for two details. There no longer was an older, male other fetaled in the corner, and spattered about the place was what I estimated to be blood; the blood of an older other who was to be removed to the elder complex, an elder who handed me the bulb to fulfill our agreement. Once back on the bottom of its hole, I found that the places where its blood had mixed with the red had thickened in to a paste, turning what was once dry and desolate in to something wet and malleable. In what I estimate to be its end, it gave me the tool to find usage for this red. It gave me something that I will, one day, use to reprogram as many humans as I can. It gave me the tool through its own loss of signal, and its signal shall be viewed. And so shall mine. With all of these new non-standard bulbs striking me, I optioned to take it on myself to perform the first experiment of the capacity of this new substance to serve its new purpose. Casting aside my upper robes, I began to use the only screen available, creating a program I had never viewed. Using its red, I programmed curves and lines and, upon running out of screen, removed the rest of my robes to continue. There were sensations contained within the red that I had never tacted before. My physical self seemed to be reprogrammed by the red, and before I could reorient with time, my entire self was covered in red.
With the return of rational bulbs came the return of horror of them finding me in its hole. Once that bulb lit, I reclothed and fled to a more distant street, finding myself surfaced just in time for the sunrise. My signal stabilizing, I tacted all the comfort of that program with more intensity, than I estimate I ever have. And as the red began to spread across the sky, I tacted that I had a new program to run for myself. And today I view that tonight, I'll begin digging myself a hole.