Post by Ceeje on Nov 13, 2006 11:15:16 GMT -5
Last night I started working on this and thought I would share what I have so far. I think I watched too many girl power movies this weekend! lol It is a work in progress. I may edit and alter as I feel it's needed. All the characters are fictional, even though they are inspired by real people. The story is set in an unknown future. This is the first installment. Enjoy! And, feedback is appreciated.
The mirrored surface of the Asylum allowed those inside to see out, without allowing those on the outside to seen in. Some thought the building blotted out the sunlight, while others thought it reflected the sun’s light into the shadows of New City. And New City had plenty of shadows.
The Regime had ruled New City for 300 years, ever since the end of the Last War. After the war, the survivors had flocked to New City in search of safe haven and hope. The city grew under the Regime’s tight control. The Regime controlled every aspect of life in New City, everything except the Asylum.
There were some who said the Regime should shut down the Asylum, and, the Regime did try…once. The stories told by the few surviving Regime soldiers have been embellished upon and passed on until no one, on the outside, is sure what goes on inside the Asylum and what powers the Asylum Girls have. Since that failed attempt to control the Asylum and its inhabitants, the myth and lore of the Asylum has grown.
Most people on the outside avoided even looking at the Asylum. But, some downtrodden souls looked at the Asylum with longing. To be an Asylum Girl was to be feared, desired, and loathed – all at the same time. When the Asylum Girls walked about in New City, everyone watched. I watched.
Back when I was meek and dutiful to the Regime, I used to watch when the Asylum girls ventured out in to the streets. They exuded power and strength, and I envied them for it. I used to wonder what it would be like to have that power. If I did I wouldn’t have to record the stories of others. I could write—and live—my own. But, my life was calmly ordered, and I could not stray from the path that had been chosen for me…or so I thought.
I worked for the Record. That’s all that it’s called, but everyone knows what it is. The Record is where the “official” history is recorded. The Regime decides what will be remembered, what will be taught to our children, and what will be left for future generations. Anything that is not pleasing to the Regime is discarded from history. I can guarantee there is no mention of the Asylum in the Regime’s Official History.
One evening, I finished my work just as dusk was about to fall. I hurried to leave, because night was dangerous for anyone. I didn’t even think the Asylum Girls would dare the dark. My supervisor informed me that I must take hard copies of the day’s documents across town to the main office. He left the office confident that I would comply. I did. A lifetime under the control of the Regime had taught me well.
I caught a transport across town and left the documents at the main office with minutes to spare. I just needed to catch a transport back to my housing unit. But, none would stop. I began running frantically, trying to escape the shadows, hoping it wasn’t too late. But, when the sun disappeared for the night, it was already too late.
I didn’t see them. I just felt them, watching me. Then, I felt the blow to my back that knocked me to my knees and knocked the breath from my lungs. The next strike caused my head to erupt in pain. But, for once, luck (or something more) was on my side. I was on Asylum Street. Just before everything went black, I saw them—the Asylum Girls.
* * *
The Asylum
The mirrored surface of the Asylum allowed those inside to see out, without allowing those on the outside to seen in. Some thought the building blotted out the sunlight, while others thought it reflected the sun’s light into the shadows of New City. And New City had plenty of shadows.
The Regime had ruled New City for 300 years, ever since the end of the Last War. After the war, the survivors had flocked to New City in search of safe haven and hope. The city grew under the Regime’s tight control. The Regime controlled every aspect of life in New City, everything except the Asylum.
There were some who said the Regime should shut down the Asylum, and, the Regime did try…once. The stories told by the few surviving Regime soldiers have been embellished upon and passed on until no one, on the outside, is sure what goes on inside the Asylum and what powers the Asylum Girls have. Since that failed attempt to control the Asylum and its inhabitants, the myth and lore of the Asylum has grown.
Most people on the outside avoided even looking at the Asylum. But, some downtrodden souls looked at the Asylum with longing. To be an Asylum Girl was to be feared, desired, and loathed – all at the same time. When the Asylum Girls walked about in New City, everyone watched. I watched.
Back when I was meek and dutiful to the Regime, I used to watch when the Asylum girls ventured out in to the streets. They exuded power and strength, and I envied them for it. I used to wonder what it would be like to have that power. If I did I wouldn’t have to record the stories of others. I could write—and live—my own. But, my life was calmly ordered, and I could not stray from the path that had been chosen for me…or so I thought.
I worked for the Record. That’s all that it’s called, but everyone knows what it is. The Record is where the “official” history is recorded. The Regime decides what will be remembered, what will be taught to our children, and what will be left for future generations. Anything that is not pleasing to the Regime is discarded from history. I can guarantee there is no mention of the Asylum in the Regime’s Official History.
One evening, I finished my work just as dusk was about to fall. I hurried to leave, because night was dangerous for anyone. I didn’t even think the Asylum Girls would dare the dark. My supervisor informed me that I must take hard copies of the day’s documents across town to the main office. He left the office confident that I would comply. I did. A lifetime under the control of the Regime had taught me well.
I caught a transport across town and left the documents at the main office with minutes to spare. I just needed to catch a transport back to my housing unit. But, none would stop. I began running frantically, trying to escape the shadows, hoping it wasn’t too late. But, when the sun disappeared for the night, it was already too late.
I didn’t see them. I just felt them, watching me. Then, I felt the blow to my back that knocked me to my knees and knocked the breath from my lungs. The next strike caused my head to erupt in pain. But, for once, luck (or something more) was on my side. I was on Asylum Street. Just before everything went black, I saw them—the Asylum Girls.
* * *