NeoGaf Creative Writing Challenge #90 The Coming Tide Dark Black By: Senoculum She slowly came

e into consciousness. Her eyes struggled to catch a glimpse of light. Not that there was any, for she was enveloped by a profound darkness. Wherever she was, there wasnt even sound not of air, or the perpetual ringing in ones ear. After realizing her sight and hearing to be ineffective she tried to form words, and it was at that point she discovered her inability to speak. She uttered her own name with absolute certainty, but there was a pressure in her chest cavity that prevented the slightest syllable from escaping. She had no voice! She reached out, anticipating the cupping of her throat, but instead what followed was a formless strain. It dawned on her: her sense of touch had been lost as well. Abandoned by her senses yet able to think freely, it was as if she was immaterial, floating like a phantom. Apart from her sensations having left her behind, she was at ease. Panic had not yet set in, for she dimly recalled her father instructing her to be patient. Exactly for what, she wasnt sure. She imagined several hours have passed since she first begot such a promise. Had her fathers voice not flashed in her mind, she would surely be scared and desperate in equal parts. Thinking back, she was to remember her father as a very reliable man; educated, and priestly in his work. He would dictate her social life, never letting her leave his sight and to this end, she realized that this was the first time she truly felt alone. Time passed. She listened intently, hoping to find at the very least a hint of some other presence. But there was nothing discernible in the oppressive darkness. Ensconced from her world, alone with her thoughts, she began to think that all hope was lost until suddenly an obscure sensation washed over her, striking her with wild disorientation, followed by a popping in the ears. Lucy. Can you hear me? Said a voice. It was her father. Yes! She cried. Open your eyes, Lucy. They are open! She said. Or perhaps she spoke only through her thoughts. She then considered that her father couldnt hear; that her voice was long gone. Silence returned. Senseless once again, she beckoned to her father with no response. She had begun to think that her current state must be some sort of dream. It was the only rational explanation she thought. Never has she encountered such an immense

lack of senselessness. It was decided she would then focus on what exactly she could feel, perhaps to jolt her free from the dream state. First, she isolated her mind, which was warm and encompassed a perceptible space. Her chest was the second easily detectable thing; weighty, and clearly gravitating to the Earth. Suddenly, she sensed anew the rush of sound. A sharp crackle of a speaker rises in volume. Well try once more, said an unfamiliar voice. Im waiting; said her father, who was always blunt and matter-of-fact. The thought of them trying to get her back achieved some semblance of calm. If and when she could see her father, she thought, she would kindly tell him how much she loved him. Far ahead, she noticed several speckles of lights vivify deep within the darkness. She stared deeply into its vanishing point, noticing that they were coming closer. As the lights increased in number, she slowly sensed the back of her mind become numb. They then took sharply incongruous forms, elongating into veins, and transformed into jagged bolts of lightning, shooting out from all directions. Her vision became a kaleidoscope of disarmingly bright, streaking lights. She could see glorious hints of amber and violet. And as if stuck on the cores of her pupils, she could not look away; no matter where she looked the same pattern grew and grew. She summoned to mind that perhaps her eyes were not opened. The image was all in her tablets of memory a fantasy. It must have been Without warning, a high pitch frequency squealed with foul feedback, hurting her. A hot energy flowed through her, pulsating, and travelled down to her fingertips, stinging her joints. Pain, she thought. This was what true pain felt like. Lucy. You can wake up now, said her father. The distance in his voice was not far away; she could even feel his presence. Suddenly, she had a willingness to surrender as this delusion lingered far too long. The light became overwhelming and a new world opened before her. Muted colours seeped through the cracks of her eyelids; objects came into focus; and the hollow hum of an air vent became audible. She found herself upright, strapped to a metallic stretcher in a silver-walled airy chamber. Her toes dangled several inches from the floor.

A party of men in white coats had swarmed through a narrow doorway just as she woke. They hushly closed the door behind them. She looked away from their direction and found her father standing sentinel, watching her from the opposite corner. ZAP! Above her, giant cogs rotated, and she could see blue electricity licking spinning metal spires. From this machine, cables poked its way down behind her where she could not see. Obliged to dispel her wonder, her father stepped forward, and between him and her, there was an exchange of smiles. Father, she said. I dreamed of you. Her father did not immediately respond. He traced his thumb around her cheek and surveyed her features before looking glumly into her eyes. A dream? Her father asked. Come now, Lucy. Robots dont dream.