Wind rushes,
tickling, forward.
Sky crying.
Dawn, warm.
Afraid,
sitting edge.
Breathe in,
Dawn slipping.
Afraid,
legs over.
Breathe out,
Dawn falling.
Watching
little ants
watching Dawn
changing Twilight.
Slipping,
rushing wind.
Quiet, louder,
I—
[Awake?]
I blinked. Belatedly, life rushed into it. I stared fixedly at the ceiling, and the short, circular pillar in the middle of the room quickly noticed. With a whir, a panel in the pillar slid back to reveal a visor that briefly scanned I's languid figure.
I blinked, its simple bed rising. With a clunk and several whirs it tilted forward, sending I tumbling, before the bed was slowly retracted into a set of opened panels in the floor. The pillar's panel retreated too, near seamlessly fitting in with the rest of the pillar's components.
I blinked, slower than before. It wanted to remember the warmth of the dream before anything else.
I blinked. What warmth?
(Go~od mor~ning~!)
I, unmoving, lay sprawled across the fluffy floor.
(Wuhuhu. Awful way to start, isn't it?)
I couldn't remember whether it'd had a dream.
[It's noisy~]
I figured there was no longer a reason to lie around. Its breakfast would soon arrive.
A set of panels in the leftmost wall slid back. Squeakily wheeled in from them by a metallic figure were the day's specialties. Red bread, red water, red not-quite-meat, red not-quite-fruit…
[Is it… supposed to look like that?]
(…Anything's fine as long as it's filling!)
I ate and its near-polished plates were squeakily taken away by the untalkative figure who brought them.
(Hehe… burp~)
[Ugh!! Is My an old man???]
(Me?! Looking for a fight!)
What should I do? Counting off on its bandaged fingers, I remembered that today was its book delivery. Okay, it decided with a clap, Let's make space for them.
The bookshelf, which refered to a number of horizontal shelves that were spaced evenly from the carpeted floor to halfway between the floor and ceiling, extended forward from the backmost wall and was only a few steps away from the panels that withheld I's bed. A rarely retreating structure, the bookshelf was only a little taller than I while being many Is wide. It was also full, though I didn't recognize any of the titles.
[Huh? Hey hey hey, don't touch those!! They definitely say 'Property of Me'??]
[Don't just toss them like that!!]
The burn pile behind I began to grow as it casually pulled book after book from the highest shelf. Since when were these here? I wondered as they fell to the plush ground.
(ACK!! My's super snack-time stash!!!)
These too… 'Food for thought', 'Eleven tastes you'd never survive', 'Chum for rotten scum', such strange titles… I became confused.
[(S-Stop it!!)]
Shrugging, I tossed the last pieces of clutter from its beautifully bare topmost shelf. The others were still full, but I felt a little tired, so it would deal with them later. In any case, I was happy, and looked at its handiwork satisfied. This looks okay! I nodded with a flickering smile. There was now enough space for the new arrivals.
(Sob. Brute!! It emptied the bookcase on purpose!!!)
I tilted its head. The bookshelf was pristine, yes, but it almost seemed like something was missing…
[Don't pretend!! Dictator!! Damn overlord!!]
(Sob… My's limited edition prints… yes, this must be what burning Alexandria was like…)
[This!! Hic! This isn't over!!]
A headache budded between I's spiraling eyebrows. It glanced at the short, round pillar. There was little response, no part of its smooth, grey surfaces betraying the idea that I was being watched, though it knew otherwise. Although I had been in this room long enough that it should be used to the feeling, it still disliked being observed one-sidedly. It clenched and unclenched its hands, wishing it could meet the ones behind that screen. Then they could be friends, and no one would watch one-sidedly anymore. However, there was little I could do about that, and little less to occupy itself, until it's books arrived.
I sat down, embracing the ankle-high white carpet that touched every corner of the room, and pretended to play a song it knew on a piano made of air.
(Oh, it's starting! Shh!!)
As I's headache eased, its expression settled. Notes soon began to ring softly throughout the room, in sets of twos and threes, as a trickle of flailing spirits blossomed on previously dull grey walls. With every blink, a lick more, turning the trickle into a flood of appearances, each sloppy and sudden as though they were splashed on by a being both careless and rigorous in their frantic pursuit of life within chaos. Soon, though, the figures became twisted. Flesh forms bubbled grotesquely, expressions of avid affection turning into vivid sorrows and palpable terror, all in time with its make-believe melody. As it played, I idly thought of its new books, wondering what might be felt if it held, read and abandoned each one.
The figures started to pull themselves out from their flat prisons. One by one, in a deliberate and imperfect harmony, a sluggish movement took place as they struggled free. Those who succeded quickly found those who hadn't like wolves to a flock of sheep. With roars and gasps from mangled throats they screamed of injustice, their boisterous hatred bouncing off of the rectangular room's unyielding walls, their forms maintained by the ichor of those whose freedoms they'd cruelly robbed. Stumbling over each other, with the awareness of drunkards and the viciousness of rabid dogs, they spun with multitudes of eyes dulled by years of fettered ambition. The score crawled on to a crescendo, notes whistling like a kettle as the creatures were briefly given new life.
Finding faults in their untimely neighbours, the creatures settled into a deadly waltz, a two step rhythm where every note called for a pair's ruthless dissolution. Things that looked human clashed with those that did and didn't, all of them riddled with holes that oozed and sizzled with ferocity. Tendrils and jaws gnashed against each other, pulling apart what was barely bound together and dying the floor with what was not. The melody was sharp now, a quailing blade that resolutely dug into the backs of those who had lost their way and wailed the victory of those who had lost their reason. The creatures themselves shrieked and throttled each other, dancing with reckless abandon in a desperate bid to devour one another before the last note rang true. One bit down on another in unhinged glee only to flourish with anger as it was bitten in turn. Another screeched with a force that could easily shatter glass as yet others wrestled its fickle bones loose and tore into its trickling flesh.
Before long, the last figure stood, a towering mass of dripping and mangled veins. Surrounded by corpses of its kind, its tattered form brutalized in the struggle to survive, it looked at I. The creature did not have eyes, but I felt caught in them nonetheless. As the melody reached a rest, they both paused. There was a tension in the air, a stalemate formed between actor and conductor, a respite that continued until I's finger fell.
Ting.
I blinked and the lonesome winner was gone, the remains of its brethren fading away with the last resounding note.
[Aiya… I got goosebumps!! Who was that?]
(Kekeke, really, the great Me doesn't know?)
[Shut up!! My doesn't know either!!]
I blinked. The room was empty again, a boring, silent space with dull grey walls, a pure white carpet, a short, round pillar, and a bookshelf. I tilted its head, facing the opened panel as the squeak of rolling joints signaled its books' arrival.