Reality Paradox [narration/audio/action]
It was nine days away from the third anniversary. Nine days and two years ago the world almost died. Prayers weren't answered, and the aparoids swallowed the school whole. An alien race with an insatiable appetite for assimilation tore into the building, pulled helpless victims out from the infirmary and turned it into a slaughter house. Those that survived crawled like roaches into the underground bunkers. Gunshots, bestial roars and inhuman yowls of pain never ceased coming from a symphony of madness up above.
Friday the 13th was the darkest day. The dome they erected over Final Destination City to trap it and it's inhabitants cracked and crumbled just in time for more alien reinforcements to arrive and crush any dreams of escape. They were relentless and overwhelming, and eventually a new dome took it's place.
They withdrew after that, but only for a little while. It was enough time for those still alive to peak their heads above ground, survey the damage and bury the dead. It was overwhelming. The aparoids came back to prey on weakened spirits, going as far as to use the dead to their advantage. They liked to assume the forms of those lost to try and break the survivors even further. It often worked.
Raiden was usually graced with women that looked like Rosemary or Blacky. Maybe Nabooru or Lash. Sometimes a strange combination of them. These women that he knew had all died or tried to convince him that they had died. She would stand in the middle of the battlefield, pristine and untouched, as if in a safe bubble away from all the carnage and death. Like a breath of fresh air that didn't fill the lungs with burning, putrid decay. Sometimes she was surrounded by a circle of white flowers.
"Jack, stop this fighting." She would come up to him and gently cup his chin, smiling.
"..."
"You're safe now." She would lean in close, lips hovering just away from his, seeking a kiss. "Come with me, Jack."
"I can't." He'd say, hoarse and tired.
She would stay right there, still smiling, her voice taking on a slightly condescending tone, as if trying to comfort a child. "Why do you still fight?"
So many times, Raiden wanted to give up at that question. He had nothing left anymore. Just fall into her arms and let her take him away from all this agony and pain. Make it all stop. Why did he still fight? Because he was good at it? He had nothing left anymore.
"Because... you're not real." He'd whisper back.
For everything else Raiden doubted about himself, he knew he didn't want them to take his will. He would stab her in the chest, right through the heart. She'd cry in agony and fall to his feet, bleeding and clawing.
Crying. And smiling.
It usually went something like that for him.
It usually went something like that for the rest of ragtag group of survivors, and this went on for several long, agonizing months as the aparoids continued in their assault. There was another group that slipped in the dome. As to how was unknown but why was later made clear; they were to provide assistance to The Resistance, but their methods were only questionably better than the Aparoids'. What resulted from that was abduction and transformation. Raiden was one they took away. Quietly and unassumingly, all it took was one tranq dart to the back of his neck and everything went black. Raiden was of course, assumed dead when he didn't report in that hour. He thought he was dead too.
"Aaaugh!" When he came to, bright lights obscured his vision. Was he dead? No, not dead. He could feel. ...He feel that he couldn't feel. He couldn't feel his arms and legs. He could tell he was otherwise cold and naked and strapped to some kind of metal table. He could hear voices whispering, but couldn't understand anything. Everything was too clean and neat to be an aparoid. Was it?
"Jack." His name. It echoed in his head, disorientating and confusing, but recognizable. He could barely grunt back in reply. Something was wrong.
"Jack you have to fight. It's what you're good at."
"...Who are you?" The voice that came from his throat was half his and half digital. That sound alone was more frightening than being somewhere unknown and naked on a table.
No answer. He strained to sit up but was met with resistance. His own body felt heavy and unfamiliar, weighing him down. At best he hear something that sounded like cables snapping out of his back and popping out of his arms, formally tethering him down.
His arm was metal, clawed, and the very sight of it had him vomiting. He could only roll over halfway, unable to see the bottom of the floor but able to see what was coming out of his mouth was pure white and foaming. Hands came and pushed him back down. Hands with flesh.
"What are you doing to me?! My arm!" He managed to choke out, clawing in the air desperately.
More whispers, excited ones. He could make out a repeated phrase, "Destroy the aparoids, and you will get your body back." And, "Our beautiful monster."
From there it was a nightmarish surreality of poking, prodding, sawing and hacking. Whispers and instructions that weren't heard but understood. They never fully put him under but he wasn't quite conscious or entirely aware of what was happening other than he felt completely different. Then finally, darkness came. Blissful sleep filled with nightmares.
He awoke face down, in the dirt. Outside. He wasn't dead, but he was something else entirely.
He knew right away that he was being stalked. A small aparoid had taken interest in what it thought was a dead guy. The dead guy suddenly sprang to life and sliced it's body cleanly in two in the blink of an eye. It happened so fast and with such precision that Raiden was astounded he had even moved with such inhuman speed. He wasn't even aware he was holding a sword in his hand until after the fact.
...yes. That was it, wasn't it? After inspecting his body he wasn't quite human either. He survived on his own for roughly a week before accepting what he was and what he wasn't any longer. He was not Jack. He was Raiden. Someone had put a sword in his hand so he lived to fight and nothing more. It took a bit longer to convince the Resistance still at the school of that too but alliances were eventually reformed.
Progress at combating the aparoids from that point came in waves. Time itself seemed to flow in rippling waves.
But this particular wave...
[One second Raiden is slicing and dicing a gruesome monster of an aparoid, the next it just VANISHES OUT OF EXISTENCE. He's standing somewhere right outside the parking lot, covered in blood and guts and his sword is now poised at... someone's car. The air is pleasantly cool not that he can really feel the difference anymore, slightly breezy, and the skies are bright and blue and nothing like the darkened, gloomy skies he knows.
He spins around a few times trying to make sense of what just happened. Is this some kind of super advanced aparoid TRICKERY he is encountering? But... something also feels kind of... off. Either way, the resistance needs to know about this. He raises his fingers to his ear.]
...Raiden to alpha base.
[A very gravely, may or may not be familiar voice breaks over the network. It's intended to be a specific frequency codec call but The AU Powers That Be decree everyone can hear it. Those with codec are still free to pick it up that way though, it would probably come in loud and clear.]
Raiden to alpha base. [No one is answering? He sounds extremely on edge. This is... very jarring.] I repeat, Raiden to alpha base. Something's wrong.
[In the meantime there is a paranoid cyborg ninja running around campus with a large shiny sword. He probably thinks you're an aparoid.]
Friday the 13th was the darkest day. The dome they erected over Final Destination City to trap it and it's inhabitants cracked and crumbled just in time for more alien reinforcements to arrive and crush any dreams of escape. They were relentless and overwhelming, and eventually a new dome took it's place.
They withdrew after that, but only for a little while. It was enough time for those still alive to peak their heads above ground, survey the damage and bury the dead. It was overwhelming. The aparoids came back to prey on weakened spirits, going as far as to use the dead to their advantage. They liked to assume the forms of those lost to try and break the survivors even further. It often worked.
Raiden was usually graced with women that looked like Rosemary or Blacky. Maybe Nabooru or Lash. Sometimes a strange combination of them. These women that he knew had all died or tried to convince him that they had died. She would stand in the middle of the battlefield, pristine and untouched, as if in a safe bubble away from all the carnage and death. Like a breath of fresh air that didn't fill the lungs with burning, putrid decay. Sometimes she was surrounded by a circle of white flowers.
"Jack, stop this fighting." She would come up to him and gently cup his chin, smiling.
"..."
"You're safe now." She would lean in close, lips hovering just away from his, seeking a kiss. "Come with me, Jack."
"I can't." He'd say, hoarse and tired.
She would stay right there, still smiling, her voice taking on a slightly condescending tone, as if trying to comfort a child. "Why do you still fight?"
So many times, Raiden wanted to give up at that question. He had nothing left anymore. Just fall into her arms and let her take him away from all this agony and pain. Make it all stop. Why did he still fight? Because he was good at it? He had nothing left anymore.
"Because... you're not real." He'd whisper back.
For everything else Raiden doubted about himself, he knew he didn't want them to take his will. He would stab her in the chest, right through the heart. She'd cry in agony and fall to his feet, bleeding and clawing.
Crying. And smiling.
It usually went something like that for him.
It usually went something like that for the rest of ragtag group of survivors, and this went on for several long, agonizing months as the aparoids continued in their assault. There was another group that slipped in the dome. As to how was unknown but why was later made clear; they were to provide assistance to The Resistance, but their methods were only questionably better than the Aparoids'. What resulted from that was abduction and transformation. Raiden was one they took away. Quietly and unassumingly, all it took was one tranq dart to the back of his neck and everything went black. Raiden was of course, assumed dead when he didn't report in that hour. He thought he was dead too.
"Aaaugh!" When he came to, bright lights obscured his vision. Was he dead? No, not dead. He could feel. ...He feel that he couldn't feel. He couldn't feel his arms and legs. He could tell he was otherwise cold and naked and strapped to some kind of metal table. He could hear voices whispering, but couldn't understand anything. Everything was too clean and neat to be an aparoid. Was it?
"Jack." His name. It echoed in his head, disorientating and confusing, but recognizable. He could barely grunt back in reply. Something was wrong.
"Jack you have to fight. It's what you're good at."
"...Who are you?" The voice that came from his throat was half his and half digital. That sound alone was more frightening than being somewhere unknown and naked on a table.
No answer. He strained to sit up but was met with resistance. His own body felt heavy and unfamiliar, weighing him down. At best he hear something that sounded like cables snapping out of his back and popping out of his arms, formally tethering him down.
His arm was metal, clawed, and the very sight of it had him vomiting. He could only roll over halfway, unable to see the bottom of the floor but able to see what was coming out of his mouth was pure white and foaming. Hands came and pushed him back down. Hands with flesh.
"What are you doing to me?! My arm!" He managed to choke out, clawing in the air desperately.
More whispers, excited ones. He could make out a repeated phrase, "Destroy the aparoids, and you will get your body back." And, "Our beautiful monster."
From there it was a nightmarish surreality of poking, prodding, sawing and hacking. Whispers and instructions that weren't heard but understood. They never fully put him under but he wasn't quite conscious or entirely aware of what was happening other than he felt completely different. Then finally, darkness came. Blissful sleep filled with nightmares.
He awoke face down, in the dirt. Outside. He wasn't dead, but he was something else entirely.
He knew right away that he was being stalked. A small aparoid had taken interest in what it thought was a dead guy. The dead guy suddenly sprang to life and sliced it's body cleanly in two in the blink of an eye. It happened so fast and with such precision that Raiden was astounded he had even moved with such inhuman speed. He wasn't even aware he was holding a sword in his hand until after the fact.
...yes. That was it, wasn't it? After inspecting his body he wasn't quite human either. He survived on his own for roughly a week before accepting what he was and what he wasn't any longer. He was not Jack. He was Raiden. Someone had put a sword in his hand so he lived to fight and nothing more. It took a bit longer to convince the Resistance still at the school of that too but alliances were eventually reformed.
Progress at combating the aparoids from that point came in waves. Time itself seemed to flow in rippling waves.
But this particular wave...
[One second Raiden is slicing and dicing a gruesome monster of an aparoid, the next it just VANISHES OUT OF EXISTENCE. He's standing somewhere right outside the parking lot, covered in blood and guts and his sword is now poised at... someone's car. The air is pleasantly cool not that he can really feel the difference anymore, slightly breezy, and the skies are bright and blue and nothing like the darkened, gloomy skies he knows.
He spins around a few times trying to make sense of what just happened. Is this some kind of super advanced aparoid TRICKERY he is encountering? But... something also feels kind of... off. Either way, the resistance needs to know about this. He raises his fingers to his ear.]
...Raiden to alpha base.
[A very gravely, may or may not be familiar voice breaks over the network. It's intended to be a specific frequency codec call but The AU Powers That Be decree everyone can hear it. Those with codec are still free to pick it up that way though, it would probably come in loud and clear.]
Raiden to alpha base. [No one is answering? He sounds extremely on edge. This is... very jarring.] I repeat, Raiden to alpha base. Something's wrong.
[In the meantime there is a paranoid cyborg ninja running around campus with a large shiny sword. He probably thinks you're an aparoid.]