Battle of the Minds

By Pessimistic Poet
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Disclaimers: I do own this story and its plot. Please do not take either.

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Slowly, eyes so blue they were almost silver cracked open, then squinted against the morning light. Pain seared through her vision for a moment, bringing tears to her glistening ice blue eyes, and she cried out for a moment.

After her eyes grew used to the light again, she shifted slightly, and tried to get up, only to find that her muscles weren't responding. Staring at the ceiling a moment more, she managed to twist to see behind her, and she promptly fell out of the bed.

A river of blue black streaked with white blonde locks of hair pooled around her form, and she winced as pain shot through her body at the sudden impact against the steel floor. Setting her teeth in protest of her body's refusal to work, she started to move again, and froze as pain wormed its way through her once more.

Panic started to settle in part of her mind, and she tried to push it back as she worked on moving her hand, one finger at a time. Once she had that down, she worked on the other hand, then her elbows. Turning her head a little, she looked to one side, and blinked at the gray expanse of steel wall before her as she worked on wriggling her bare toes.

Suddenly, she realized she was barefoot, and she blinked. Just where had her shoes gone? Bending her knee experimentally, she held off on trying to stand a moment more as she worked the stiffness out of the rest of her joints. Then, on shaky legs, she forced herself to stand.

Looking about herself, she blinked at the plain steel room. The only window let in a sliver of golden warmth that fell over the bed, exactly where her head had been. Her hand reached up to rub the back of her head, and she made a soft noise. Somehow, all of this seemed strangely familiar.

She stumbled over to the door of the room, and stared blankly at the small gray keypad. Hesitantly, she punched in the only number that came to mind, and instantly a hidden door on another wall slid open. She blinked, looked at the keypad, then at the door before hobbling over to it.

A sleeveless silver dress with a black rose winding along one side hung limply on a hanger, and on the floor beside it, a pair of knee high black boots with silver toes were resting serenely, as though waiting for something. Or someone. Her eyes flickered to a box set just beside the boots, and, unsteadily, she sat down on the floor and pulled it out.

Within it resided a small black book with a silver rose on the cover. A tiny lock kept it closed. She studied it for a moment, then set it to one side and pulled a pair of sleek lace black gloves. Absently, she pulled those on, surprised to find that the inside was lined with a silver silk that shimmered under the black lace.

Digging for a moment more, she found a set of silver and black underwear, and immediately cast a look over her shoulders before stripping and sliding them over her milk-white skin. She pulled a pair of black tights from the box, and shimmied them over her hips.

She held out her hands, then moved and put the book back in the box and closed it. Warily, she fingered the material on the dress, and, although she couldn't feel it, she could tell from the way it shone that it was silk. She took it off the hanger, and slid it over her own form. Then she picked up one boot, and slipped it on, followed by the other.

After zipping her footwear up, she turned around, brushing her hair back with her hands absently. It reached to her ankles, and she didn't feel like messing with it at the moment. A thought crossed her mind, and she picked up the box and set it carefully on her hip as she walked back over to the keypad, and clicked a button. The door to the 'closet' closed, and the one in front of her opened.

Her eyes looked over the next room a bit apprehensively. She couldn't remember why she was in this maze of steel, and suddenly, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. However, as she walked into the next room, a gray ring that suddenly surrounded her stopped her. A flash of white light blinded her, and she cried out from shock.

But suddenly, she knew what she was doing. She'd been put to sleep for a while, to ensure that someone of the old would survive. A wave of revolution had been sweeping the nearby town, and as the eldest and the first, it had been her chosen to represent the race of old. And now, since she had awakened, apparently, the race of old was gone.

Biting her lip a bit, she glanced at the clock for a brief moment, then at the door. After just a moment, she frowned, and looked back. Just two years. She'd only slept for two years. That couldn't have been right. The race of old should have lasted longer against the revolution.

Steeling herself for whatever she might find though, she erected a mental barrier to protect herself from her own disturbing thoughts. Keying in the last number, she watched as the final two doors slid open, and the golden sunlight lit her face, warming it for the first real time in two years.

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