1. Welcome to the Fantasy Writing Forums. Register Now to join us.

XOR Dreams: A Lovecraftian Cyberpunk Final Part

By LWFlouisa · Dec 1, 2017 ·
Categories:
  1. It was the following morning me and my friend woke up in the hospital.
    He spent the entire morning watching television mindlessly, while trying
    to think of what happened in those tunnels in the darkness. I was left
    craving going back down to find out what the meaning of the symbols were,
    and the meaning of that statue. Since I wasn't injured, I left my friend
    to the care of Ravina as I made my way toward the tunnels, leaving my futon
    at the hospital. She said she would roll it up, and I could sleep at her
    place tonight.
    As much as you get used to wandering the darkness, there isn't anything
    like wandering it alone. I walked through the tunnels, slashing and
    thrusting giant rodents, and eventually came upon the room in which we
    had left. Already, the room had been cleaned up the mess, despite having
    no natural reason for the corpses absence, and stared at the portal in
    which the monstrocities had exited. I touched my hands along the wall,
    and found the room began to swirl around.
    I arrived in what seemed like a laboratory in hell, with various
    abominations, craving to eat my flesh. And thus, I made sure to only
    stay inside of the lab. I heard a voice in the darkness. It was a young
    woman in her early twenties, who said that I should not have arrived
    here, that it was a top secret government facility. She asked how I
    had found the place, and I noted that me and my friends had been living
    in the tunnels for some time, and that it was only recently that a
    friend of mine had been kind enough to let us stay with her. But the
    lady other than this question, remained largely elusive about what
    was beyond the tunnels.

    I was knocked out, and woke up at Ravina's place.
    -- And just where have you been? She asks.
    -- Where am I?
    -- At my place, you always sleep here. -- She adhusted the blankets
    for me, while I situated on the futon. -- I found you outside in
    the cold at midnight. Don't leave me like that again, and your friend,
    he needs you.
    I had nothing else to say then.
    I was left thinking of the tunnels.

    It was one of those years in high school, when kids felt like proving their
    worth by picking fights with me. You know those kinds of hot shots, who feel
    like fighting is the only answer to an infinite possibility of questions one
    may ask. At times I dream of the day I can put such hot shots in their place,
    and slit their juggular veins, and yet at the end of the day I realize I
    prefer the freedom to eat Broccolli beef at the local Chinese restaurant
    downtown. And the thrill of the exploit on the net made whatever issue
    I had in my past largely worth it. Although at times I think, what if I came
    back to high school at my current age. Certain television shows made jokes
    about adults beating up minors, but seniors in high school were not minors
    in any no legal real life sense. And for my own size, I'm effectively no
    bigger than I was in high school.
    These days I carry a can of pepper spray with me, in the off chance that
    something would attack me in these tunnels, but so far I haven't had to
    use it. And to be honest, running, when you're not having to proof your
    machisimo to blustery men, was a perfectly valid strategy to survive the
    next day. In these tunnels I could find place I could hide from the giant
    rodents, an opprotunity to take a break and browse the net. The internet
    had become almost ubiquitous sense last you, with pirate boxes on almost
    every street corner. Even downhere, you'll find USB dead drops every so
    often.
    In such dead drops, it acted as an offline social network, so I would
    ocassionally find people posting images on there, from who knows where.
    But do to the time delays between interactions, I could have time to
    finish my thoughts. An aspect of my life in previous years that had
    always been scarce, even among family, who had the urge to find some
    reason to snark before I've finished my thought. Even when writing
    at the dinner table, my family would find some reason to interrypt my
    flow. So I spent most times downstairs writing various stories non
    interrupted. But my own life never even approached some of my science
    fiction stories.
    At least until recently.

    Once I had gotten back from the tunnels, I took a break and rested
    at Ravina's place, parking my tiny house in a public parking lot
    for the following night, having dropped a week's worth of organic
    farming salary for the privaledge. I had the tendency to keep that
    kind of money on hand, as I had long sense lost any amount of trust
    in the bank. The banks, not only were they demanding money for account
    upkeep, but also double the price to get the job done, so I have
    heard. Therefore I resolved that the best course of action was to
    keep all my assets in person. I kept several wallets to store my
    cash, and thankfully that enabled to the lifestyle to not have to find
    a trailer park, that was becoming increasingly rare as urbanization
    increased. I slept on my futon, wondering how my other homeless friend
    that survived the onslaught of the underground tunnels. When I was
    down there, the lady scientist suggested that I leave that dimension
    for that time being. That I would be contacted soon.
    On the following evening, when I was getting ready for the beach,
    the lady had called me on the phone. She said that she didn't
    want me immediatly in that alternate universe lab at that moment,
    as she didn't want to reveal to her superiors that was there doing
    unofficial work. She had known about my tendency toward puzzle
    solving, although this wasn't necessarily revolving around programming,
    so much as html and remote viewing. I had more experience with remote
    viewing rather than html, but had acquired the language skill in
    order to communicate my concepts about IPvRV, or Internet Protocol
    Over Remote Viewing. You used all of your five senses, plus the
    extra sense of magnetism in order to look for hidden things with the
    urban matrix.
    And now, she wanted me to use these skills to find hidden alien bases
    in the portal that led to the lab.

    In my younger years, I dreamed of a woman guillotined for murder. I woke up with
    mother saying "wake up little Hitler." By the next night I hallucinated of beheaded
    hippies, bleeding in a field of flowers growing in my bedroom, and outside was my
    grandmother's room ready for me to play in. But I used that time to be alone from
    the world, hiding away from the light. And now here I lay, waiting for some chance
    at life.
    I took random coordinate numbers, gathered my pseudonym and date, then reclined
    resisting the temptation to masturbate. I could a hidden landscape that my vision
    could not see, a world only my third eye could sense, and sensed only of extreme
    wetness. The smellyness of iron oxide wafted under my nose, as I resisted the
    draw of the morning sunlight. I was called by the lady of the lab, who asked
    me what I had sensed.
    I couldn't describe how I felt.
    It was only sadness.
    I dreamed of gipsy girls and petite tap dancers, some hung by nooses in the
    seventeenth century.
    I suppose one can never change.

Comments

To make a comment simply sign up and become a member!