 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Ashes of Harvest
Posted By: Tin Can Man<david@tbex.com>
Date: 24 February 2006, 5:55 pm
Read/Post Comments
|
August 4th 2525
Alexei Freud Institute
Harvest
"Doctor?" The young woman sat, cross legged, in front of the huge desk, shifting uncomfortably in the plastic chair, her face one of a person intimidated and unsure of their surroundings. A small dribble of red blood ran slowly, lazily even, down her thick red lips from a small cut where her perfect white teeth had bit into the soft, fleshy skin.
The elderly man peered at her from over the rim of his glasses, slowly placing the red pen he had been writing with in his spotless white pocket, arranging it so it was exactly parallel with the others. He placed the papers from his clipboard neatly onto the large, exact pile of documentation, neatly aligning them into a near perfect pile. Finally, he spoke.
"Yes?"
She stared intently at the floor for a couple of seconds, as if unsure what to say. Finally, she inhaled deeply, then slowly looked upwards, her large blue eyes wide with anxiety.
"How" her words caught in her throat taking a deep breath, she pressed onwards, "How is he?"
"Mr Stradamus?" He let out a deep sigh. "His condition seems to have only gotten worse. He is slowly losing his grip on reality, instead becoming more and more trapped in this," he mad a gesture as if to try and catch the words that eluded him, "This dream-worldof his."
A solitary tear trickled down her eye, curving towards her mouth. She took a deep breath, her chest shaking with suppressed tears. The doctor shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
She looked up, sniffing and wiping the tears away with a long finger "May I see him?"
He looked up in surprise.
"Why of course, my dear. But, I do warn you, it can be rather distressing." He smiled kindly at her, but his face was lined with sadness, "Are you sure?"
She took a deep breath, as though afraid of what she would see. "I wish to see him. Please."
He stood up slowly. "Very well. Follow me please."
She stood up, shoes squeaking. He pushed open the large door, holding it open for her.
The corridor was of the type you can only get in a hospital; A drab grey colour, with a cheap plastic floor which was scuffed and dirty with the detritus dragged in by the shoes of a thousand patients.
He pulled out a key from amongst a large key-ring, inserting it into the keyhole of a door marked Solitary Ward. She walked through the door, red shoes clicking on the white floor, echoing in the empty space of the cold, white corridor.
They came to a stop to yet another door. The doctor placed his right hand on the black tile that jutted awkwardly out of the mass of white plastic. The plate scanned his fingerprints, taking a second to ponder if it should let the pair in, before a faint beep.
They stood in front of a huge window, facing into a small room. The walls were of a crisp, clinical white, bulging out of the walls in small rectangles of padded fabric. A figure lay, slumped against the wall, muttering incoherently. He wore a strait-jacket, and his hair was messy and unkempt.
The doctor pressed a button in the console in front of him.
"Mr Stradamus? Mr Stradamus, you have a visitor to see you."
The man looked up, directly at the large pane of one-way glass. His face was wary, and his eyes were alight with an animal cunning.
"Who is it?" His voice was low and tired, as if he had lived the lives of a thousand men, and had seen every sin and glory of the human race.
The woman pushed herself in front of the microphone, shoving the doctor ungraciously out of the way.
"Ross? Ross, can you hear me? It's Fiona, your sister."
"Fiona?" The man sounded troubled. He pushed himself up laboriously, feet scrambling at the floor.
He walked slowly, deliberately across the floor, towards the window.
"Fiona? No, no, no!" he shook his head like an aggravated animal, trying to rid itself of fleas. He slammed against the glass, pushing his face against it.
"You must get out of here! The blue fire will come, kill us all! You must get out of here!"
She began to sob, large, salty drops streaming down her face.
"Ross, it's just a bad dream, nothing more! Please, come back to us!"
He stepped back from her, suspicion on his face.
"You don't believe me, do you?" He whispered, his voice harsh and angry.
"What? No, no-"
"You're just like them, aren't you!" He screamed, spittle flying madly. "You believe me a madman, crazed by his delusions!"
"I suggest we leave. He is past reasoning." The doctor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Come."
"Ross…" She placed a hand on the glass, as though wishing to touch her brother one last time, to try and pull the madness from him, to wrench it out of his heart and scatter it to the winds.
"The Blue Fire will destroy all! You must leave!"
She walked out of the door a broken woman, shoulders low, head hung, the terrible knowledge that her brother was forever lost weighing heavily on her heart.
All around him. The stood, faces concealed, whispering in their alien language. He strained at the invisible bonds surrounding his body, pinning him to the ground, refusing to let him move.
He could see into their minds.
And he knew what they wanted.
"Noble Hierarchs, all ships are in the positions specified by your Lordships. Shall we commence the bombardment of these beings?"
"Of course, Commander. You have your orders, as divined from the Gods. Do you dare defy them?"
"Of course not, Noble Hierarchs'."
"Hmm. We sense confusion in your heart, Commander. Tell us why."
"It is nothing Excellency, a mere flicker. I merely wonder why we do not simply receive them into the Covenant, rather than destroy them."
"The Gods are a mystery to us, beings of weak flesh and bone that we are. We can but simply follow their whims, and hope they will be pleased with us, and shall receive us with open arms once we have completed the Great Journey."
"Very well, Noble Hierarchs; may the Gods smile kindly on you."
"And you Commander. Commence the bombardment."
They had not believed him.
They had not trusted his words.
And yet he was right.
A slow, sad smile crept across his face. The ground shook under his feet. He looked up.
Another huge explosion destroyed the wall, and another blasted the roof clean off.
He looked up into the sky. Something was there, something…
Something blue.
He smiled, then opened his mouth wide, inhaling fresh air for the first time in weeks.
It was close now.
They would see.
He took one last breath of the wonderfully sweet air, then screamed to the sky, long and hard, his voice hoarse with the strain.
"Here I am!"
|
