Michelle Knight. Writer, photographer, programmer, truck driver and general, all round nut case. Life is a journey and that's what this blog will probably end up being. Let's see where we go, eh? ;-)
I just signed up for Wattpad. Looking through the list of competitions, as you do, the Sci-Fi comp was open, so I tried it. Part 1 had a closing date of October, so I thought I'd give it a bash.
Well, that was October 2014, as it turned out. *sigh* - just my luck.
Part 1 of the competition was to write a one-page short, between 600 to 800 words, Sci-Fi. So here it is for you guys... handily titled, "Escape."
The rising pain in my chest and legs was making breathing more difficult. Perspiration dripping from my brow and falling, abandoned, behind me as I ran. Damn. Another junction. Was it left or right from here? I was never good under pressure. Scientist, not soldier.
The searing red lights distorted everything and the siren, rather than propel me urgently to my escape, was threatening to make my mind shut down in protest at the ongoing assault on my ears. While part of my brain attempted to recall which direction I should take, another piece made me look over my shoulder.
The corridor was empty. Nothing to be heard except the pounding of my heart and the urgent panting that clamoured for freedom from my lungs. It was coming. It had to be. What else would it do? Just sit there in the lab and carry on with the puzzles that had been set before it? No. If it carried anything of the human genes that were used in its creation, then revenge and blood lust would surely be on its mind.
Left. Was I sure? No, but some dim recall from somewhere I couldn't recognise, told me that was the way to turn. I had no time to question its wisdom, so off I ran; onward through the air that was thick with sensory pollution. My body locked in an epic battle on which my very life depended. Pain holding me back and fear driving me forward. Which of the two would win?
It was an accident. A simple test to see how it reacted to mild pain. The misplaced decimal point delivered too much current and it went wild with rage. That was when we discovered how badly we had underestimated its strength. I looked on while it destroyed the lab. By the time I came to my senses, I discovered that I was alone. Everyone else had scattered to the four winds and presumably, someone had hit the alarm button on the way out.
When the beast smashed its head against the glass, the only thing that it could see on the other side, was me. It stared straight in to my soul and chilled my blood, shortly before it bellowed so loudly that the thick, hardened shield vibrated. I could see ripples of sound on the surface of the glass, almost as if someone had placed a finger in a bowl of water. When fear finally gripped me by the throat and sent me running for my life, I could hear the sound of its massive fists on the steel door. I knew that time was not on my side.
As I ran, I noticed that the corridor was bending slightly to the left. That wasn't right. It should be straight and sloping gently upwards. I had taken the wrong turn. I didn't stop to think, but attempted to reassess my plan as I ran. Where was I heading? Back to the labs? Possibly, but if I kept running I should hit the exit corridor from the other side. All I had to do was keep running. It was an extra two miles before I would finally come full circle, but the only other choice was back and that way lay certain death.
It should be behind me. It was intelligent, certainly. The tests it had completed were quite complex. It hadn't learned language, but it could manipulate shapes and had a visual acuity that rivalled many animals. Well, that's why we created it, after all. The disposable soldier, to send in to the night, to hunt and kill our enemies. No family but a test tube. No emotional ties to anything other than its handler, to whom it was supposed to be utterly obedient. Well, that was the plan at least.
The cross roads. Good. All I had to do now was turn right, and I was off the circle and heading out. Just slow up enough to make the corner. I only saw it at the last second, the flash of pinkish-brown from my left hand side. As my head turned towards it, I glimpsed the shape of its knuckles as the toughened bone of the fist made contact with my fragile, human skull.
At least I escaped the pain.