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Welcome to the eighth installment of my new series of Bionicle flash fics, The Biological Chronicle. If you want to read the other stories in this series, you can find links to them in my signature at the end of this post. If you don't know what this is, allow me to quote from the first fic's introduction: With that out of the way, enjoy: 2008 Though Gavla sat in the stands of the Metru Nui Coliseum alongside hundreds of other Matoran, she never felt more alone in her entire life. Turaga Dume, the head elder of the city, was giving some speech about how great it was that Mata Nui was awakened, how the darkness had finally been defeated, and other cliches that Gavla found extremely tiring. So tiring, in fact, that Gavla slipped out of the stands without anyone noticing, without anyone even stopping her to inquire where she was going on this momentous day. That was not surprising in the least. She had no friends, whether among the Av-Matoran or the others, so why would anyone care where she was? Gavla soon found herself just outside the Coliseum exit, trying to decide where she should go next. The cries of joy from the other Matoran were muffled out here, but she could still hear them plainly. She looked over her shoulder at the massive Coliseum, wishing the entire structure would just collapse on top of everyone inside there. Especially on Takanuva. “You're sick of it, too?” said a voice nearby, one she didn't recognize. Gavla looked around before spotting a Po-Matoran leaning against a streetlamp not far from the Coliseum's entrance. She had not seen him when she exited; in fact, unless she was mistaken, it seemed like he had just appeared out of thin air. She dismissed that as her imagination, though, because this Po-Matoran didn't look much different from the other Po-Matoran she had seen. “Who are you?” said Gavla, folding her arms and glaring at him. “And why aren't you in the Coliseum celebrating Mata Nui's awakening with everyone else?” The Po-Matoran shrugged. “I guess you must be one of those Av-Matoran. My name is Ahkmou. Let's just say that I'm not particularly popular among my fellow Metru Nuians. Hence why I'm out here alone.” Gavla eyed him carefully. “Why do they hate you? I thought all you Metru Nuians were best friends. The Three Virtues and all that.” Ahkmou chuckled. “They hate me because I used to serve Makuta Teridax himself.” Gavla shook her head in astonishment. “Wait, you, too, served the Makuta? I thought you Metru Nuians hated them.” “Not all of us,” said Ahkmou. “And besides, it was a while ago. I'm clean, but the other Matoran and even the Turaga still don't trust me much.” Gavla's shoulders sagged. “I know what you mean. Life was so much better when I was a servant of the Makuta.” She expected Ahkmou to react with horror at the statement, but to her relief, he nodded. “I agree. The power . . . oh, how powerful I felt when I was Teridax's servant. When you get a taste of that power, nothing ever seems to quite match up afterward, does it?” Gavla wasn't sure that she agreed. The only reason she had liked the Makuta, after all, was because they had accepted her. She never felt particularly powerful among them, but she nodded nonetheless, as she didn't want to cause any rifts between the two of them so soon. “Were you a—?” “Not a Shadow Matoran, no,” said Ahkmou, shaking his head. “Still, I know what it feels like. Darkness is a seductive force and I love it for that.” Gavla nodded, feeling happy that she had found someone who understood her. She was even starting to think that maybe she had finally found a friend, even though she had just met Ahkmou and did not know him very well. Then Ahkmou looked up at the sky and started. “What the—?” Frowning, Gavla followed his gaze. She was shocked to see that the stars had rearranged themselves into the shape of Makuta Icarax's Mask of Shadows. That made no sense, though. What was going on? She looked back at Ahkmou, who was now smiling in a way that reminded Gavla of the way Makuta Vamprah had sometimes smiled right when he was about to get his prey. “What's going on?” said Gavla. “Ahkmou, why are you smiling?” “Because if that mask is what I think it is,” said Ahkmou, his voice triumphant, “then I think life is about to get better for the both of us very enough. Very soon, indeed.” - Comments, criticism, questions, etc. are all welcome . -TNTOS-
Someone’s Waiting For YouWith Sam faithfully by her side as always, Camille placed her hand as carefully as possible on the cool wooden banister that ran up the stairwell, away from her. For an instant that seemed like an eon, her wild seven year old imagination ran away from her. It told her that this was a steep, winding path lined with thorns and thistles. It wound its way through a shadow-laden wood that was devoid of any sound. To reach safety, she had to make it through.She knew it wasn’t true, but the chilling thought remained, regardless. With her free arm, Camille hugged Sam close to her. He was scared too. He might not know that the frightening exaggerations of one's imagination in the dead of night were not real.“Don’t be afraid, Sam,” she whispered to him. He didn’t respond, and she wasn’t sure that he’d heard her. Giving him one quick squeeze with her elbow, Camille began tiptoeing up the lightless staircase.Be brave, little oneMake a wish for each sad little tearHold your head up when no one is nearSomeone’s waiting for you“Shhh, Sam! We can’t wake anyone,” She reminded him in the same ghost-of-a-voice whisper. Sam said nothing.They reached the silent landing at the top of the stairwell. The long hallway was only inhabited by blue shadows chasing blue shadows by the slivers of moonlight peeking beneath doors. The shadows had never harmed her before, but still, she couldn’t help but be wary.Glued together as best friends should be, they crept past the boys’ rooms, and then the first girl’s room in turn. The last door was their room that they shared with three other girls. These were the nice girls who had given Camille the bed in the corner, the warmest spot in the room.Don’t cry, little oneThere’ll be a smile where a frown used to beYou’ll be part of the love that you seeSomeone’s waiting for youGuiding the painted wooden door shut behind her, Camille had to take extra care that it shut, clicking into place as silently as she could manage.“It’s okay, Sam. Nobody heard us,” she assured him. He was worried, but he said nothing. His reflective, sad eyes spoke all the words he did not.Sam did not like living in the children’s home, she knew. Sure, there were friends here, friends to laugh with and make believe with. Those were happy days, they were numerous, and he loved them. But still, some of the children, they liked to tease and make fun of him. She knew this, and it made her angry. It was only some of the other children who said these things. But they were enough to turn a happy day horrible. They liked to give nasty little reminders, like how they were not found in a dumpster. How they had been dropped off at the home in swaddling clothes with flowers and a lovingly sealed envelope. How they had not been abandoned, naked and still slimy from birth in the middle of the night. “Abandoned for dead,” they liked to say. “It’s not true, Sam,” she promised him. Don’t listen to them. I’m here to be your friend. I won’t let them get to you. Her thoughts reached out to him.It was impossible to say what brought those atrocities to mind. Camille had stolen out of bed and down the stairs to quench the scratching thirst that had woken her. It was against the rules to leave bed at night without a grown up to watch you. Perhaps these nightmares that flew in her thoughts while she was awake, the jeering faces and cutting words, was some ethereal punishment?Always keep a little prayer in your pocketAnd you’re sure to see the lightSoon there’ll be joy and happinessAnd your little world will be brightCamille climbed into bed, and tucked Sam in next to her. His floppy ears tickled her nose, and so she tucked him into the crook of her arm. Settling in, she began stroking his ear that used to be soft, but had worn think and ratty over the years. Her fingers found the tear in the seam where his cotton insides were poking out. The anxiety from the short sojourn down to the kitchen had taken its toll. Camille had begun to drift off to sleep before she even knew it.Someday, she wouldn’t have to carry Sam with her. The loyal dog full of cotton and heart was a true friend to her. He took all the trouble she couldn’t comprehend and made it his own. And then he let her take care of him and his foreign troubles. It was what she needed to survive and grow, and he was happy to take it as his burden.One day, maybe not so far in the future, Camille could look back and see the lesson of love that silent Sam had taught her without speaking a word. It is the same lesson that all childhood friends, the ones with cotton and heart on the inside, teach. A lesson of friendship and sacrifice and family, taught in a way that should not be teachable. And yet, it is. Just one of the quietly amazing things in life.Have faith, little one‘Til your hopes and your wishes come trueYou must try to be brave, little oneSomeone’s waiting to love you---If any of you have seen Disney's The Rescuers, that's where inspiration for this story and the lyrics came from. This is the first piece I've written in months, apologies if it seems a bit rusty. Nonetheless, written for you. And the flash fiction contest =P I hope you enjoyed.
Thank god you've found the note pad. My name is Frank Kamac and I'm a building inspector. Please listen to me and don't finish reading this note pad, just turn around and walk out the door, there are things here and you just need to leave and forget this place. If you're reading this I hope to god you took my note pad out with you because if you didn't the doors to the funhouse should be closing right about now. My name is Frank Kamac and I'm a building inspector, I was sent here by the state of Vermont to condemn the old fair grounds. If I remember correctly (I'm almost sure I don't, I am very hungry and thirsty), the grounds were normal as long forgotten fair grounds could be. I mean, the kind of places where thousands of people used to gather are always scary and surreal when they're abandoned. It's especially scary to me; I remember when this place was alive and beautiful. The lights of the rides and games mixed with the sound of music. The droning of aimless light hearted conversation filled the air. My nostrils were invaded by the smell of batter frying. It was an all around warm feeling, troubles were left outside the gates and only life and happiness could be found here. But that was many years ago, the light bulbs are missing or broken. The bandstand has rotted way leaving nothing but the concert foundation. I believe that the fryers were sold to that burger shack on south street right after the grounds closed. There’s noting left here but a few buildings and the iron skeletons of rides. I started off my inspection with midway. As I said before all the rides are rusted skeleton looking shells of their former glory. No amount of nostalgia could make anyone think they're safe. I moved father down the midway crossing off buildings as I went, most had completely collapsed but then I saw something out of place. It was the house of mirrors; it looked like it was still in half decent shape. I never liked the house of mirrors even as a child. The carny that owned it scared me a great deal. In my teenaged years I found out my fears were justified. The carny had been caught attempting to slash to death a child for breaking one of his mirrors. The carny was arrested and the fair grounds sued to bankruptcy. Since the building looked like it was in good shape I was required to have a look inside. I figured just a little peek inside the door and I could leave it forever. I slid the bolt holding the heavy aluminum door closed and walked inside. Every single mirror was shattered, like someone had come through with a hammer and bashed them all in a fit of rage. I walked closer to the mirrors when I heard the door slam behind me with a resounding crash. I tried to open it but it was too heavy, I tried smashing at the hinges with my suitcase but it was no use. My only option was to look for another door (They have to have another door right? Who builds something with one door?) I wandered the darkened hallways using the small amounts of light coming through the holes in the roof to navigate. After wandering for quite sometime I finally found a straight hallway with no mirrors. I squinted my eyes and I saw another door. I was so happy that I had finally found a way out I was beginning to think that I was trapped forever. I grabbed the door handle and let out a yelp. It was hot! Like someone had lit a large fire on the other side. My hand was badly burned I had to rip a bit of my suit to bandage it. At that point I broke down, I just sat down and cried. I had no idea how long I had been trapped in here, I had no idea if I was going to get out, I had no idea about anything at all. So I just cried. I eventually stopped crying and fell asleep on the dusty floor. When I woke up again the sun had gone down. I decided it would be best if I look for walls near the outside and try to break through to freedom. As I left the mirror-less hallway to start my search something seemed off but I continued to search, gently hitting the mirrors to see if had found the edge of the maze. Then it hit me; I was taping on mirrors, not the wood backing. I stumbled back in shock. All the mirrors had been fixed; every last mirror was perfect and clean. Not just mirror clean but they were like liquid metal they were so clean and clear. I thought stress might be getting to me so I had to touch the mirrors to be sure. The edges were smooth and warm. I moved my hands from the corners inward, probing every inch. The center of every mirror was hot enough to light a cigarette but the heat did not radiate off the mirrors. I don’t know how many hours I spent moving my hands around the mirrors it was just so bizarre that I couldn’t get my mind off the mirrors. I had to touch them I had to feel them. Eventually I was able to stop groping but at least one hand had to be on a mirror always. I don’t know why I didn’t question this behavior at the time, it just seemed natural too me. It’s strange now that I think about it but without the suns light I made many realizations. The first was this place was too big, the second was my clothes had fallen apart as if they had aged decades in the time I had been trapped but I kept wandering until I collapsed. When I woke up once more I realized I was in some kind off basement. I found the stairs and realized a made a right turn out of the mirror-less hallway instead of a left. I rationalized not noticing the stairs by saying I was dehydrated and not thinking properly. The mirrors on had been shattered where as the mirrors in the basement were not. I decided to spend most my time in the mirror-less hallway since I felt it was the safest. I debated in my head if I should wrap my suit around my good hand and try to open the back door. One part of me said it would protect me from the heat but another said my jacket would burst into flames as soon as a touched it. I kept this debate in my head going as long as possible I felt it was a good way to distract myself from the whole situation. The sun went down again and the reflections form the shattered mirror in the dark really started too disturbed me so I headed downstairs again. As soon as my foot touched the last step I was compelled to place a hand on the mirrors again. It felt like a natural reaction I couldn’t help it. I didn’t wander much that night; I was too tiered form hunger. I found a relatively clean spot and sat down. I didn’t move, I didn’t think, I just sat and stared at my reflection. I started to doze but every time I was about to sleep I felt something small and soft brush up against me. My eyes popped wide open every time this happened but I was too tired to react any further and far too tired to move away. The dozing and brushing kept up for what felt like hours but eventually I was allowed to sleep I was woken up with a jolt, there was an impossibly loud screech coming from what seemed like all directions. I woke up in such a state of shock that I didn’t even think, I just started running for the stairs. I ran faster then I ever had up those stairs and not even thinking, as soon as I reached the top I turned into the mirror-less hallway. My mind snapped at the thought of being burned by the door but I couldn’t stop running. I crashed into it with a thump. To my amazement I was not burned! I stood up and quickly grabbed the handle with my good hand and I wasn’t burned! I quickly ripped the door open to see nothing but a brick wall. My mind started to race “Why would someone put a door in front of a brick wall! How was the door hot there’s nothing behind it! “ I felt the rage build inside me. I grabbed my suitcase and started smashing at the wall. I was so filled with anger that I got and adrenalin rush. I just started hammering away at it like a machine and that’s when it happened; the wall cracked and a few bricks fell. All my anger and rage quickly turned to hope. I started removing bricks from the hole I had made with my suitcase and slowly took apart the wall. When I ripped a hole big enough to step through I realized it was another stair well. It led down to a hall way lit with florescent lights. I decided to take the left turn. It led me to the basement mirror maze. It turns out they were one-way mirrors which opened when pressed properly from the viewable side. I went back to the stairs and went straight this time. I followed a long hallway and came to another aluminum door. Something sent a chill through me as a touched the door handle. Worried I opened it slowly. What I saw made me vomit. I saw a big room with a medical table with straps, a tray of knives next to it, and several large shelves. On the shelves was the most disgusting horrifying thing I have ever seen and I hope I never see anything like it again. There were at least thirty jars with the preserved partially dissected bodies of children. As I looked across the room in shock and horror I noticed a hatch with sunlight coming through it. As I slowly walked towards it I heard a strange wet sound. I looked slowly over my shoulder to the shelves. All of the bodies were staring at me. They looked deep into me with their dead eyes and I looked at them in greater fear then I have ever know. I became a blubbering mass but they would not stop looking at me. They all suddenly spoke in unison: “Tell the others what you have seen.” After hearing that I fainted. When I woke all the bodies were in their original positions. I walked slowly to the hatch, trying to not make the slightest sound out of fear that I would “wake” them. As soon as I reached the surface I ran back into town as fast as my hungry body could carry me and I followed my instructions. I started screaming what I had seen at any person who came in my path. I was soon arrested and taken to the hospital. The doctors said I was severely dehydrated and delirious and that what I saw was all hallucination. To this day no one believes me. I came back and left this note pad for anyone who’s stupid enough to enter. If you’re trapped like I was, when you enter the large room in the basement, please don’t turn your head no matter what sounds they make. I can still see them in my head. They won’t leave you after you leave the house of mirrors. They made me write this, they won’t leave me until the others know! They won’t leave they won’t leave they won’t… ---------------------------------------------------------- I didn't edit for grammar because I'm a horrible editor.