Shiver

*NANOWRIMO15* ❝Cʟᴀssɪғɪᴇᴅ_: Dᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs_❞ ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂♙||⚛∙⚗||♟▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
Get ready for a frosty dystopia. ANNO_2079_ Evanna Frior lives in a world coated in frost and ice; Tetrahmona. She was born in Prague, a city-silhouette in the north of Tetrahmona. Its skyscrapers rise tall and proud above the frost lands. The only city believed to have survived the greatest snowfall ever experienced by mankind, Prague is sheltered from the 'wildlings,' by its city walls. Nobody leaves the city; nobody enters it. Prague's inhabitants must follow a code that builds them to follow instinct to turn over any outsiders and anybody who is different. Most people do so. But not everyone.

Evanna does not live like everybody around her. She is a tetrahon, a native of the world she was born in. A daughter of frost. And that means only one thing. DANGER. ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂ ❝Wʜᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ʜ ᴀ ᴛ ᴇ s ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴛ's ʜ ᴀ ʀ ᴅ. Bᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ғ ᴇ ᴀ ʀ s ʏᴏᴜ, ɪᴛ's ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜ ᴀ ʀ ᴅ ᴇ ʀ.❞

4Likes
6Comments
2900Views
AA

2. O n e

 

Evanna

Alone. The walls whisper it around me like a taunt, like a tease, like a trigger. Alone, alone, they echo. Alone... I press one palm to the warm marble table I am lying on and push myself up. Swinging my legs around, I let myself down onto the floor- and I stagger, crashing into a metal container whereupon stands a rack of two dozen glass test tubes. I watch in momentary paralysis as the rack falls. One by one, the glass tubes shatter, and I continue to watch with blank eyes as they splinter within the proximity of their protector. The thought brings a grim smile to my face. That is the problem, with people over you, those more powerful that you, those that believe they can protect you, shelter you. They fall, and you fall as well. That is why I am better. I needn't rely on another person to survive.

Stooping, I pick up a shard of broken glass, turning it around in my fingers, watching as the sharp edges slice at the pale skin. What falls is no longer clear, but transluscent, dyed pink. Wiping my hand on the uncomfortable white gown I wear, I make my way towards the entrance- but I'm held back by something. A sharp tug against my movement causes me to back up and inspect what this thing is. It is a wire, fitted to the back of my waist. Lifting up the gown, I inspect the way it's fitted into my flesh. It is almost like a socket around a plug, a socket surrounded by flesh. Shaking my head, I pull. It budges, and I feel a sharp pull along my spine. I hesitate, then give the wire a twist, and the pull returns. It is, however, only something directly linked to my muscle, so it won't damage my spinal cord; therefore it isn't dangerous, I conclude. I give it another few twists, and with a cry, wrench it free. The skin around the socket constricts together and then closes beneath my impressed gaze, as if nothing had ever been there in the first place. Slightly befuddled, I let the gown drop again, and look back at my hand, which is now completely healed too. How does it work, I wonder. How does it work? Self-regenerative tissue; it's the only explanation. Interesting. I do most certainly not remember having that.

My retina flashes red, and my left eye becomes a screen to me. A plasma screen. Upload Successful, I hear. It's a female voice, and the words appear in red in front of my vision, before dissipating. What is it? Have I been merged with some Artificial Intelligence? Or is it just my subconscious trying to reach out to me? I pick up my pace. Red lights along the ceiling flare up. A siren sounds. 

They are coming for you, the walls tell me. Coming for you. You... you... They echo. 

I run.

I follow the red lights out of the laboratory and find myself in a maze of white corridors, pathways that meander here and there. I have reached a delta of possibilities. I take the second left. I allow instinct to take over me, and I guide myself through this unfamiliar terrain. But it can't be all that unfamiliar, can it be? I must have gotten into that lab someway or another. 

Then, I hear voices. A steel door blocks the pathway before me, but it is from the other side that I can hear the voices. Pausing, I listen.

"Shit!"

"What do we do?"

"Do you think I know what we're supposed to do, Parrish?" The first voice responds, irritated. "I know as much as you do, you idiot."

"Yeah, but, I was thinking maybe if you-" I take a step forwards. "The hell was that?"

A long silence follows, punctuated only by the clicking of guns as bullets are placed into their respective chambers, ready to be fired. The sounds come to me easily, and I pin them down easily.

"Shit!" The first voice continues to use crude language whilst the other man, Parrish, remains silent.

"Hang on- hang on-" The panicked scuffling of feet, muffled by whatever is covering the ground, resonates in the corridor around me as the sound passes through the door. "They said the left side!" The second man continues to speak. "Hit the left!"

I make my move.

I ram against the door, hammer against it, and within moments, I hear the snap of a chain on the other side breaking. One more push- and I burst into white oblivion. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...