Creative Writing 1:
The Blue
A pale Blue-White light shines on our little world. Its ghostly light illuminating the minute plane of our existence. The light shines off of our skin, a pale dusty blue, and our hair only a shade or two dark. We know not of the colors that the stories of old tell. Or the bright hues of life on the planet that our ancestors once called home. We only know blue. Our skin like the waves washing on the our dusty blue shores. The bright blue shining stars against the dark blue sky. This is all we know. We know of blue. We are the Blue. |
Voices
Beep, Beep, Beep. Tick tock, Tick tock... Do you hear it? Do you? Do you? Do you hear the voices too? The voices are not human, They are not like You or I, The voices are machines, They are things that cannot die. Do you hear them? Oh, please tell me that you do! Truly I’m not crazy, Do you hear the voices too? I can’t be the only one who hears them! They never ever stop! The minute I stop talking… Tick Tock, Tick Tock. |
Chapter 1
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound of an incoming transmission.
The thin, old man picked up his transceiver and cleared his throat. He spoke in a soft and pleasant tone, “Mission Control, How may I help you?”
On the other end a young man utters in a familiarly charming voice, “Drop the act chuck, It’s just me.”
“Humph,” Chuck grunts hearing the other man’s reply. “what do you want?”
“Oh come now, is that any way to treat an old friend?” the young man asks quizzically.
“You are neither old, nor my friend Chris.” the old man said in a tone unlike either of the ones he had previously uses. This new tone was full of emotion, knowledge, and an underlying edge of threat.
“Alright.” says Chris slowly, obviously picking up on the indications in the other man’s voice.
“Now, I asked what you wanted.”
“Right.” said Chris, clearly ready to get down to business. “I need 12 new torpedo heads.”
“What happened to the ones I gave you last week?” Chuck asked, exasperated. Chris said nothing. “Nevermind. You know what, I don’t want to know. Just hook up and I’ll give you what you need.”
Chris obayed efficiently. Hooking up his small one man submarine to the underwater transport tunnel. From the outside the vehicle looked to be standard issue, but the inside told the true story. It was clear that someone, Chris presumably, had been living inside of it for quite some time. Chris entered the tunnel nonchalantly. One hand in his pocket, the other pushing back his short, blue-black hair. He smiled at Chuck, who gave him a grimace and motioned for him to help load his supplies into the sub.
“You don't Always have to act like you hate me you know.” Chris said in mock hope.
“Who said anything about acting?” Chuck murmured.
Chris rolled his eyes, knowing that this was going nowhere, fast. They finished their task in silence. As Chris walked back down the hall to his submarine, he turned around as if to say something to Chuck, but he had already gone. Climbing back into the cockpit of his underwater abode, Chris closed the service hatch and began his descent.
Down, down he went into the dark depths of the sea. The water opened up, grasping the machine in its powerful jaws. As the pressure outside increased the cabin stayed the same. This was home. This was life.
Chapter 2
Once he reached his desired depth he engaged the autopilot and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sight. He rubbed his eyes and the the years began to show on face. His hair was not grey, and you would be hard pressed to find a wrinkle anywhere on his youthful body, but his eyes were a contradiction. They were weary with an edge of old pain and a dusty knowledge that only comes with age. Chuck had been right to say that they were not friends, at least not any more, but he would know better than anyone that Chris was far from young.
Chris sat up with a jolt, someone had touched his shoulder. He turned sharply, his old instincts suddenly rushing to the surface once more. There was a high pitched yelp, as the startled girl jump back.
“Oh, it’s just you.” Chris said with a sigh of relief.
Angie, having gotten over her initial fright leaned peacefully against the wall of the cabin, arms crossed over her chest.
“I told you I was coming.” she said in an annoyed tone.
As chris looked at her, her gaze softened until her eyes matched the warm tone of her chocolate hair. Chris looked at her and smiled, she understood. She understood that a mistake should not define you, but also understood that his did.
“How long are you staying?” Chris asked, attempting to sound neutral. Any neutrality gained in his voice was lost by the desperate, longing look in his eyes.
“Not sure.” She replied with a smile. She strolled over to his chair and kissed him lightly, “I guess we will have to see.”
Chris closed his eyes and smiled for a moment. Upon opening them he stood up so that he could see her more clearly. “It is really good to see you Angie.” he said, taking her in his arms.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound of an incoming transmission.
The thin, old man picked up his transceiver and cleared his throat. He spoke in a soft and pleasant tone, “Mission Control, How may I help you?”
On the other end a young man utters in a familiarly charming voice, “Drop the act chuck, It’s just me.”
“Humph,” Chuck grunts hearing the other man’s reply. “what do you want?”
“Oh come now, is that any way to treat an old friend?” the young man asks quizzically.
“You are neither old, nor my friend Chris.” the old man said in a tone unlike either of the ones he had previously uses. This new tone was full of emotion, knowledge, and an underlying edge of threat.
“Alright.” says Chris slowly, obviously picking up on the indications in the other man’s voice.
“Now, I asked what you wanted.”
“Right.” said Chris, clearly ready to get down to business. “I need 12 new torpedo heads.”
“What happened to the ones I gave you last week?” Chuck asked, exasperated. Chris said nothing. “Nevermind. You know what, I don’t want to know. Just hook up and I’ll give you what you need.”
Chris obayed efficiently. Hooking up his small one man submarine to the underwater transport tunnel. From the outside the vehicle looked to be standard issue, but the inside told the true story. It was clear that someone, Chris presumably, had been living inside of it for quite some time. Chris entered the tunnel nonchalantly. One hand in his pocket, the other pushing back his short, blue-black hair. He smiled at Chuck, who gave him a grimace and motioned for him to help load his supplies into the sub.
“You don't Always have to act like you hate me you know.” Chris said in mock hope.
“Who said anything about acting?” Chuck murmured.
Chris rolled his eyes, knowing that this was going nowhere, fast. They finished their task in silence. As Chris walked back down the hall to his submarine, he turned around as if to say something to Chuck, but he had already gone. Climbing back into the cockpit of his underwater abode, Chris closed the service hatch and began his descent.
Down, down he went into the dark depths of the sea. The water opened up, grasping the machine in its powerful jaws. As the pressure outside increased the cabin stayed the same. This was home. This was life.
Chapter 2
Once he reached his desired depth he engaged the autopilot and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sight. He rubbed his eyes and the the years began to show on face. His hair was not grey, and you would be hard pressed to find a wrinkle anywhere on his youthful body, but his eyes were a contradiction. They were weary with an edge of old pain and a dusty knowledge that only comes with age. Chuck had been right to say that they were not friends, at least not any more, but he would know better than anyone that Chris was far from young.
Chris sat up with a jolt, someone had touched his shoulder. He turned sharply, his old instincts suddenly rushing to the surface once more. There was a high pitched yelp, as the startled girl jump back.
“Oh, it’s just you.” Chris said with a sigh of relief.
Angie, having gotten over her initial fright leaned peacefully against the wall of the cabin, arms crossed over her chest.
“I told you I was coming.” she said in an annoyed tone.
As chris looked at her, her gaze softened until her eyes matched the warm tone of her chocolate hair. Chris looked at her and smiled, she understood. She understood that a mistake should not define you, but also understood that his did.
“How long are you staying?” Chris asked, attempting to sound neutral. Any neutrality gained in his voice was lost by the desperate, longing look in his eyes.
“Not sure.” She replied with a smile. She strolled over to his chair and kissed him lightly, “I guess we will have to see.”
Chris closed his eyes and smiled for a moment. Upon opening them he stood up so that he could see her more clearly. “It is really good to see you Angie.” he said, taking her in his arms.