JavaScript is required to use Bungie.net

OffTopic

Surf a Flood of random discussion.
6/16/2008 3:40:11 AM
10

Story; The Paraelix Configuration

Callum was not extraordinary in appearance or physique. Nor was he particularly gifted intellectually, musically or imaginatively. In fact, nothing about Callum stood out at all, except his purpose. As he waded through the crowds of shoppers, laden down with plastic bags and children, he caught sight of the suits that had begun pursuit. He did not know if he'd been identified by a camera or security guard, but it didn't matter now. All that was on his mind was escape. The suits would be armed, and probably would show no quarter, especially if they'd been briefed on his file. He had to escape. He rounded the corner and the escalators came into sight. A mechanical glory that would soon deliver him to the exit, assuming he got there first. Callum quickened his pace, darting around a family of 6, and narrowly avoided an old couple who seemed to have no idea of where they were going. Then he heard the cries of suprise, and realised the suits were not far behind. A few more quick steps and he was onto the escalator, trying to push his way through the bustle of shoppers. "Freeze!" For a brief instant all Callum could do was smile as he heard them shout. Surely they could come up with something more original, he thought. Callum reached into his pocket, not an unordinary action for anyone at a shopping centre, only he was reaching for his keys. In fact, it was no common item that emerged in his hand. There was no phone, no wallet, not even loose change in his hand when it emerged from his jacket pocket. The item in question looked more akin to a remote one might use to change channel on a television, or to turn up the volume on a stereo. Callum raised the device to eye level, and spun 180 degrees to face his attackers. Suddenly his intentions became clear to the suits that pursued him. Their speed increased as they desperately tried to intercept him and the device he carried. Despite the speed at which the suits moved, there was no time to prevent Callum activating the item he held. A flash of green light engulfed him, and he was gone. The light disappeared instantly, but the intensity of the light left afterimages in the eyes of all nearby. All that was left was a faint odour of sulphur. Afterall, Callum was not extraordinary in any way, shape or form... Except his purpose. Tristan ;-)
English
#Offtopic #Flood

Posting in language:

 

Play nice. Take a minute to review our Code of Conduct before submitting your post. Cancel Edit Create Fireteam Post

View Entire Topic
  • "Tell us what you know…" Mikka looked up again in abject horror at the thing that sat before her, fighting the rising bile in her throat as she examined the piecemeal cables and tubes piercing his body. Her eyes were growing more accustomed to the unnatural darkness of the interview room. Utter disbelief at what she was now seeing had stripped words from her mind, and bar her screams she had not voiced anything since the veil, so to speak, had been lifted from her eyes. The interviewer was growing irritated by her non-complacence. Again he began the line of questioning from the top, in his grating, computerised tones. "Tell us of Callum… of the Configuration… of your part in this terrorism…" The last word struck a chord in Mikka's mind. Everything these days was terrorism. Bombs blowing up schools overseas. Troops leaving for foreign policing duties. Economic crises due to global fear. All of these things were common to her, having been broadcast all over the media for the past few years. In recent months they'd even started conducting drills at her school, preparing them for bomb threats, shooters in the school, and even some martial arts classes to help with personal defence. "Tell us!" The discordant tones of the computerised voice seemed to strip her of any defences she had, laying bare her soul to this mechanical tormentor. Mikka trembled as she realised her mouth was moving, and words issuing forth, against her conscious will. The voice had control of her. "I don't know who Callum is. I only saw him a few hours ago during the incident. I'm not a terrorist! I don't even know what this thing is," her voice choked off as she desperately tried to regain control of her own body. The interviewers gaze intensified, and Mikka heard the scratching of some kind of radio frequency in her head. Then all resistance failed as she formed words she didn't know, replying in compliance to questions he hadn't even voiced. "Unit designation Mikka reports no prior dealings with terrorist suspect. Device does not register with any know Configuration equipment. Unit still unaware of Configuration operations past questions raised during interview." Air ceased entering her lungs as she tried to comprehend what she'd just done. Mikka had heard her own voice, but had no control over her own speech or over what was said. Dumbly, she gazed up into the interviewer's eye looking for answers. His features moved into what could only be assumed to be a look of satisfaction, and he relaxed back into the chair. "Unit designation Mikka," he spoke aloud this time, "wipe all memory pertaining to current events. Insert file 240b memory replacement, and reinitialise at home." The overwhelming fear and confusion of the present situation started to drain away from Mikka. She felt as though she were sliding into a warm bath, falling asleep as though her surroundings were familiar. She had to fight, something was wrong. The power this man seemed to have had to be fought, and defeated, if she were to remain as she was. Mikka had no idea why she knew this, but something inside her made her believe this was her last chance. Seconds passed and the man's look of pleasure slowly drained from his face. "Designation Mikka, comply with command." He leaned forward as though expecting her to answer again, but somehow she'd broken his hold. Something had clicked deep inside that prevented him from using her as he had before. With every ounce of her strength she focused her gaze directly into his eye, channelling her terror into blind hatred. "I will not -blam!- comply!" Just as the mechanical man started swelling his chest in fury the dark room erupted into sound and light. Orange lights, previously hidden in the dark recesses of the room, now cast shadows of their own as they spun. From somewhere in the room an alert frequency was issuing, so loud that Mikka moved her hands to her ears trying to shut out the noise. However the lights and sound faded into irrelevance as her fingers contacted her head and she realised why this dark new environment was so cold to her. Her fingers knocked her skull and she heard… The chi-nking sound of metal on metal… Tristan ;-) [Edited on 06.15.2008 7:53 PM PDT]

    Posting in language:

     

    Play nice. Take a minute to review our Code of Conduct before submitting your post. Cancel Edit Create Fireteam Post

You are not allowed to view this content.
;
preload icon
preload icon
preload icon