Aardvark Posted February 12, 2003 Report Posted February 12, 2003 (edited) I find it sad, living my life surrounded by these wretched fools. These mundane creations who know not why they walk the hallowed grounds of this world I helped shape, played a part in creating. Now, cursed to walk among them, imprisoned in this shell of flesh, until... who knows? For crimes against the creator, they said. Fools! I AM the creator. ME!!! But alas, there is nothing I can do now, but walk among the creatures created to watch over MY world But my spirit was never totally beaten down. It took the combined efforts of the other creative forces to lock me down. They couldn't render me powerless. But what power I still retained was filtered through this.... brain. This lump of gray matter that controls.... that IS a human. And a remarkable creation it is, with all five of us designing the thing, I'm surprised it turned out like it did. But a filter it is. It took millennia to get used to and even after all this time, I hadn't worked out all the nuances of the thing. But it was functional. And did give rise to surprising twists that were, more often than not, most welcome. But I craved freedom at all times. Oh, to be omnipotent again..... a goal I strive to achieve. In theory, a simple one. Simply overload the power capacity of this fleshy prison. In practice, next to impossible. Shortly after my imprisonment, the other 4 drained the excess energy from this world. But there were, hotspots. Places where power leaked into the world from places beyond reality. But they were few and far between. So I had to be forever on the lookout for them. Which meant interacting with.... Them... I could smell it. Feel it. Taste the thing. A hotspot. Finally... and this one felt like a powerful one. Maybe enough? No, never enough, but I would milk it for all it was worth. I quickly made my way to the center of the thing without arousing too much attention from the mundanes around. Perfect. The hotspot was in the middle of a queue. Queuing for freedom. Ooooh, it'd feel so good to just roast the lot of them. Minutes pass like centuries to me. I find myself looking at the clock too frequently, seeing that only seconds have past since I last turned my head. Slowly, ever slowly, I approach the center. I can feel the power spike up. Every fibre of my fleshy shell twitches in anticipation. Almost there.... so close... Ding! The person at the head of the queue leaves. The line shuffles forward. I'M THERE! The power is tremendous. I'd never felt power like this since.... so long ago, I almost can't remember. I begin the process. Focusing, concentrating, creating a vortex in my mind. Drawing power down through my being and expelling it into the corporeal world. Yes... YES!!! It burns all over, but I crave more. I need it... almost there.... just a little more- "Excuse me, Mister. You're on fire" That voice. That infernal voice broke my spell. I turned to see the source of the voice. A small human child. "Of course I'm on fire. Why wouldn't I be?" I snapped "Doesn't it hurt?" "No, it doesn't hurt. Why should it hurt?" Oooh, this was infuriating. The last outburst got the attention of the child's mother "How DARE you talk to my chi- OH MY GOD!!! THIS MAN'S BURNING!!! SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!!!" Oh, great. Not again. I'd flamebursted without realising it. In public. God, this was embarrassing. And to top it off, someone had hit the emergency alarm. Not only did I now have to put up with that wailing siren, but now I was wet. The sprinklers had finally kicked in. God, how I HATE them! Edited February 12, 2003 by Aardvark
The Portrait of Zool Posted February 12, 2003 Report Posted February 12, 2003 LOL! Now THAT I can identify with!
Gyrfalcon Posted February 13, 2003 Report Posted February 13, 2003 Heh, I like it, Aardvark- I feel sort of sorry for the fallen angel/creator thingy... it just wants to suck the power, can't people leave it alone to flame as it wants?
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