20-11-2003, 07:48
The world was dark where this one male had been living all his life. It was dark enough so that when he passed through the tunnels he often slammed into the walls or others without notice, earning him harsh cuffs and a flick from the whip of the ever present foreman. They had not yet gotten around to installing lights in this sector; everything was done in the deepest black you could imagine, the type that would be present in a nightmare. But to these people it was natural, it was life. The only light they had ever known was the flickering of fires, brought from Above. The mystical lands that all the children knew about and no one really believed in.
They said there was a ball of everlasting fire at the top of that world, inlaid in a blue half globe. Sometimes white or grey forms would cover the blue, but as the globe turned they disappeared, often with waterfalls and falling fire. They said that the ball of fire would disappear behind the world only to return as bright as ever the next day. Day, another thing they talked about up there. Times determined by the flaming globe. They were much shorter then the days here.
Those were the legends, only half believed by the grown male. He shuffles along the dark tunnel, falling to all fours as needed. But there, atlast was a light. In its flickering light the form of the male is seen and the others recoil in disgust. They were not human, but most resembled them. Or what the stories of them told. The main difference in the normals was that their skin was pure white, as were their eyes and their hair. They had no need for colors as most of their life was spent in darkness.
But the man stumbling to the light was not one of those. He was an accident, a mutie as they called them. Unsuccessful expirements had created him and his type and they generally were not released to socialize with the general populace. This male was white, as the others, but it had dark grey spots, almost like scars all over it. His hair was black and his eyes a stunning blue. All in all he was strange to look at, be you human or the nonthenthe. But the most odd thing about him was the presence of two hands per every arm, of which there were three. He had been released for this very mutation, the abnormal amount of hands giving him a quicker digging time then the normals.
He moves to the light and picks up the shovel he knew lay there. Soon after he picks up the pick that lay behind it, carrying both to the section to which he had been assigned. Amazingly he is whistling as he does so, an old tune of the nonthenthe. He begins to pick and dig at the earth about them, creating the branch for two tunnels, one up and one down.
All at once the passage is flooded with bright light, causing him to scream and clasp white hands to his eyes, as he falls to the ground, whimpering in pain.
The foreman runs over at the screams, joining in as darkness accustomed eyes are stabbed by the light. He squints and looks up, whining with the pain but needing to see what was up there. Which was nothing. Nothing at all. But damn it, damn it there should have been solid earth there but there was nothing. Some one had been digging, someone either knew about them or soon would. And wouldn't life be fun then? He grabs the mutie and drags him out of the light before standing just outside the circle, eyes slitted as he looks upward slightly, watching to see what would come.
They said there was a ball of everlasting fire at the top of that world, inlaid in a blue half globe. Sometimes white or grey forms would cover the blue, but as the globe turned they disappeared, often with waterfalls and falling fire. They said that the ball of fire would disappear behind the world only to return as bright as ever the next day. Day, another thing they talked about up there. Times determined by the flaming globe. They were much shorter then the days here.
Those were the legends, only half believed by the grown male. He shuffles along the dark tunnel, falling to all fours as needed. But there, atlast was a light. In its flickering light the form of the male is seen and the others recoil in disgust. They were not human, but most resembled them. Or what the stories of them told. The main difference in the normals was that their skin was pure white, as were their eyes and their hair. They had no need for colors as most of their life was spent in darkness.
But the man stumbling to the light was not one of those. He was an accident, a mutie as they called them. Unsuccessful expirements had created him and his type and they generally were not released to socialize with the general populace. This male was white, as the others, but it had dark grey spots, almost like scars all over it. His hair was black and his eyes a stunning blue. All in all he was strange to look at, be you human or the nonthenthe. But the most odd thing about him was the presence of two hands per every arm, of which there were three. He had been released for this very mutation, the abnormal amount of hands giving him a quicker digging time then the normals.
He moves to the light and picks up the shovel he knew lay there. Soon after he picks up the pick that lay behind it, carrying both to the section to which he had been assigned. Amazingly he is whistling as he does so, an old tune of the nonthenthe. He begins to pick and dig at the earth about them, creating the branch for two tunnels, one up and one down.
All at once the passage is flooded with bright light, causing him to scream and clasp white hands to his eyes, as he falls to the ground, whimpering in pain.
The foreman runs over at the screams, joining in as darkness accustomed eyes are stabbed by the light. He squints and looks up, whining with the pain but needing to see what was up there. Which was nothing. Nothing at all. But damn it, damn it there should have been solid earth there but there was nothing. Some one had been digging, someone either knew about them or soon would. And wouldn't life be fun then? He grabs the mutie and drags him out of the light before standing just outside the circle, eyes slitted as he looks upward slightly, watching to see what would come.