I scrapped working my state stories for NaNo because I thought I would be editing my story from last year to maybe place it somewhere (I have a possible home for it but need to really edit it). That happened for two days - 21 pages in to the editing and I gave up. So on 11/12, I had nothing - no words, no pages edited, not a thing. I put myself back at 0 on 11/10.
On 11/16-17 (the 17th my time and 16th a friend's time) we warred and I wrote for 45 minutes - getting 1725 words in. I wrote another 10 minutes (was supposed to write for 30 but mine just ended) and gained abotu 400 more words. I'm going to post what she thinks is so brillant and let you all decide if there is a novel here? What direction do I go in? Where do I pick this up and continue from? She says this is a prologue to something - so come on ya'll give me some feedback. Do you think I can do more? Is there more to tell? I'm entering uncharted terroritory for me - I'm used to stories being under 5000 words and moving on.
This is what was written - let me know what you think - again, she says this is totally brillant and she is jealous of my writing (does need a little editing but it's great so far and she also thinks this is the prologue to something longer). I honestly don't even know how I wrote about zombies but that is what thsi turned out to be - Zombies and it wasn't intentional - there was no thought on this - except it steamed from a dream I had the other day - not a long one and then I told my friend the dream and she sort of wrote a direction for this part to go - she says she didn't write this but she did in a way -
Observing Zombies
First rule is never let yourself get emotionally involved. Most times I watch. I observe. I see how Angelique twists the emotions right out of her followers. But not me. No, I have to stay emotionally uninvolved. The tears are there. The feelings. The pain. It's all there. Yet, I have to sit in the corner and be neutral, an observer.
Second rule, if you are emotionally involved, time to get out. How does one get out of a situation that is one sided? If Angelique knew the emotions she pulls from me, she would stop doing her readings. She would win. I can't let her win. She is a device and nothing more.
Third rule, if you get this far, you are dead. I can't die. I can't let her do to me what she does to them. The people are so ready to hear what she has to say. Everyone walks out of her small, cold, concrete rooms somebody else. They are never the same. These believers will listen to and see what she wants them to hear and what she portrays, but not me. I am an observer. My job is to watch the shifter and make sure she does not wreak havoc on society.
Society in the here and now is not like it was twenty or thirty years ago or even five hundred years ago. The beings of this society live in a dream world. They have nothing left but a glimmer of hope to live on. But once that hope is revealed or smashed, they have nothing. They die but not physically. They die internally. Deeper than any emotion or feeling or physical being can die.
At one such reading, Angelique managed to kill two such persons. That's two less than there were yesterday. I sat in the corner and watched as Angelique revealed the past events to these women, staying as neutral as possible.
Angelique is good at what she does. She kills silently and covers it up well. She would never let you know if you are being read that you will die that day. But trust me, if you are ever read by Angelique, you will die and wish for the physical death many times over. Because once your soul has been claimed and has been extinguished, you have nothing left. Nothing. Nada. Zero. Zip.
Angelique looks like a goddess to me. Her Godiva-like hair, embracing her body. Her dark eyes that are so unrevealing yet all revealing, to the right person that is. I would never let her know I know who she is or what she does, although I'm afraid she already knows. No matter how many readings I attend, in hopes of being read by her, she always seems to skirt around me. The rooms could be packed with a hundred people or could be skimpy in the numbers and she doesn't read me. I must have done something that would allow her to give me a reading and whether she chooses not to read me or can't read me, I may never know.
I can remember the reading that got me, deep in my soul. Although the young lady died, I went back to my abode and my makeshift bed and cried for her. I thought of all the hell my family had put my great-guardian being through to get to her livelihood. How I must have had a part in that and why it was so important to repress those memories.
Angelique could have been reading me that day if she wanted to. She starts every reading the same. She stands against the metal railing and sizes up her audience. She then gives her usual speech, hiding the fact that she is in actuality going to kill you that day. She even keeps a team of medics handy for those who have been read and won't let you leave the room until you have been cleared by them. I know better. All they are doing is extracting the dead soul and leaving a no longer alive, physical being. A person to go through the rest of their existence as just that - an existing body.
When you have no soul, you are dead. Why couldn't she just let the mother who lost her two children have her hope. No. That wasn't Angelique's way. I was sitting next to her and her husband was on the other side of her. Angelique looked her over very carefully and then said, "You have lost two dear little ones. You want answers as to what happened that day."
The lady nodded numbly.
Angelique turned to the husband and continued, "You were away. You have already distanced yourself from the events. You are no good here."
He just acknowledged that what she had said was true. He wasn't any good to the wife nor to anyone else. He left before Angelique continued. I think I witnessed a slight motion made by Angelique to cause his abrupt leaving. I would have questioned it but I had to keep my distance.
"Now that the no-gooder is gone, let me just say. What I reveal to you today will answer your questions and your burden will be lifted. But it will not be a relief if the fault is shown to be on your shoulders. Remember folks, I don't read those that have crossed over. I show you what has happened in the past in order for you to see for yourselves that all the events that led you here have to be revealed."
Then she went into her trance and as vivid as a motion picture, there on the beach was the lady, reading her book, holding on to the dog's collar, and her two children, a boy and a girl running around. The woman must have forgotten she was holding the dog and was very engrossed in her book. The next thing we saw was the dog snaking out of her grasp, which by this time was limp and loose. The kids chased the dog down the beach trying to get him back on the leash. By the time the woman realizes that the dog is no longer near her and the sounds of laughter had quieted down, it was too late. The kids were sucked in the undertow, clutching each other and trying to scream out, with only whimpers coming from their tiny mouths. My lady neighbor runs, looking for them everywhere. She has called the police and reports them missing and the dog too. She wants the kidnappers found. She is very panicked. So much so, she can't even think to call her husband or do a search in the water. The days go by and no word. She has to assume they are no longer alive and has lived with this for years. When she sees her children actually being drug under by the force of the water, she breaks down. Angelique has won yet another soul.
The tears last a few minutes. Angelique tells the young lady to go behind her to the medics waiting. The mother resists, albeit briefly, explaining now that she has closure she is fine. Angelique persists and the mother finally goes to dropped area behind Angelique. Before the next reading, she is cleared and leaves.
I have never been with a being to procreate so I could not tell you how it would be to lose a child, no matter how protective you think you are or how observant you think you are, one small distraction could be the end of everything.
Angelique perused the room and the next woman who was her victim fell to a much graver death than the first. At least the first had closure and even though her soul was dead, she had moved on. She was with her children at last.
Grandma was a different story. When Angelique transformed to this woman, the whole handful of folks in the small room were mesmerized. I was not affected. I had seen this before, not in such dramatic style but I had definitely seen Angelique's performance before. Bringing to life what has happened to show where the beings had made their mistake was the norm for her. She knew exactly which scenes would push their buttons and which would break them.
Angelique was old and her voice was crackly and hoarse. She was crying. She was saddened by the events that had led to her being placed where she was. She was asking for help and no one would give it to her. Angelique's voice changed. She was no longer the siren; she was now this old woman, "Help me, please." She crackled. "Don't leave me here. I am not ready to go. I can do better." The next scene could have been me or my family but it wasn't. The lady who had tried to stay hidden in the opposite corner from me was it. She was afraid. I could tell she wanted to speak but when Angelique performed, no one spoke. Everyone just knows who it is.
"You all have been so cruel to me. Why? All I did was give you everything you ever needed and wanted and this is how you treat an old woman who has very little life in her as it is? What more do you want? If I could give it to you, I would. All I want now is to be treated like I've treated all of you. I do not want to be here. It is not my time."
The old lady died. Her soul first and then eventually her physical being was gone too. The young woman knew that the actions of her family would eventually catch up to her and indeed they had, in front of strangers no less.
I left the reading and went back to my bed and cried. For the families that were read. For the souls that were taken before their time. For the beings who never knew what hit them. I cried for my family's ugliness and hatefulness and unkindness towards their elders. I was emotionally involved.
I had broken rule number one many times over. I had been emotionally involved on many planes and would never admit it to anyone. Not to my superiors. Not to myself. And never revealed anything to Angelique or at least I think I haven’t. I hope not. Because if she knows, I might as well be dead. You can be emotionally involved from a distance so I think rule number one should be modified. Don't get involved with the shifter on an emotional level. Keep your distance. Maybe I wanted to be involved with Angelique, find out what made her ticked. Maybe she needed to be involved with me on a different level and that's why she never read me. I may find out the answer one day, but not today.
The ones that leave me drained make it harder to observer her at the next reading. I really find it difficult to go to the next one. But like a glutton, I show up and I sit and I watch. I try very hard to telepathically warn people not to fall into Angelique's trap, to not let their soul be taken but it is all to no avail. Angelique's will is stronger. Once she starts showing the clips of the past, you are invested and your soul is hers.
She knows this. Maybe it is why she won't read me. She can't take a non-existent soul. I'm a machine and therefore have no soul to give to her. Yet on the surface I look like the beings and I have feelings like they do but I don't have anything deep like they do. No soul means I can't die. But I do die, every time one of them loses his soul, I die for them. Yet, I'm drawn to her. I can't stop seeing her. I am emotionally involved on more levels than the physical.
Sometimes I pray that she will read me. Many times she looks at me like I'm the next to be read but it's usually the person right next to me or the right in front or behind me. Never me. I don't even think she has ever looked into my eyes. Perhaps she has looked and has seen I have no soul to be taken and that is why she avoids me. If I could get a soul, would I be like them?
Angelique knows. I must ask her. I may not get the answer I want but I can get an answer. No, I can't. That would make me emotionally involved on another level and that is not what I need or want. I need to keep my distance. I need to keep observing and watching out for the lost souls that approach Angelique. Watching from a distance. That is what an observer does.
That is what I do. I observe.
This was less than an hour's worth of writing - let me know - I don't think it is brillant and that the writing is not good at all - so I await ya'lls opinion - E :)
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Elysabeth Eldering
author of THE TULIP KISS and BUTTERFLY HALVES
BRIDE-AND-SEEK, a short story selected to appear in The Petigru Review (available now on amazon.com)
http://elysabethsstories.blogspot.com/
www.emesemporium.net
