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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A fairly short fictional story in a rather avant garde setting that deals with the themes of free will and creation. Told through the perspective of a mysterious entity that inhabits in the center of the universe, an inexplicable event that occurs seemingly 'out of the blue' shatters the fabric of the reality that was familiar to this entity.

Submitted: June 15, 2016

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Submitted: June 15, 2016




Serghei Pavlenco

She wakes from the hearth. A pungent, earthy smell fills her nostrils as she rises from the depths of her abode. Alone, again. Every night she sleeps, hoping to wake up with a soul by her side. Alone. Again. For as long as she could remember, she existed within this confined space, a molten core that hangs in precarious balance with the middle of the universe, an empty shell encased in fire.

With a slight creak, she brings down the eyepiece of the telescope to her level and observes the space. Her gaze flits among the entities that orbit her home. Infinite, vast, unknown it sprawled around her. She is the center of the universe. A molten core, pulsating like a beating heart, droning out vibrations into the silent void. Of her design, the celestial space is occupied, be it a miniscule comet or a lumbering giant, breathing within its gaseous abode, sent into an everlasting orbit.  Her somatic presence within the universe is unparalleled by any other. Her machine paves way for creation. Necessary is her existence, present since the beginning of time to the end. When an entity dies, a new one must take its place and through that, her purpose within the dark is expressed. She sends the telescope back up to its resting position and proceeds to get to work, of which the outcome is completely random.

She ascends through a hole in the sphere and makes her way on to the surface. The flames dance around her feet as she looks for the brightest flame to pluck. She lifts her gaze into the sonorous abyss and wonders if another speck of life dwindles in its depths, staring back at her, invisible from sight. She wonders if they too lived among the stars and planets, if they too have a longing for contact. With a sigh, she lowered her gaze and spots a tiny ball, brighter than she had ever seen, ripe for the picking. She makes her way over to it and picks it up. A sphere of white flame, fizzing with energy is resting in her open palm. She takes one last gaze out into the dark and makes her way back to the machine.

It makes a melancholy sputter and a deep metallic groan when she flipped it on and placed the ball into the receptacle to be fed into the gaping mouth. It roared to life and retracted the receptacle in the blink of an eye, almost taking her hand with it. The flames inside scream and the machine begins to pump a bluish liquid into the tank. She usually leaves the machine to do its bidding at this point, but something holds her back. Something intriguing, something macabre was happening this time and her attention is glued to the metallic monster imploding in front of her with pure energy.

After the bluish liquid was added, a greenish viscous concoction is sprinkled into the blinking white process that is happening inside. She is horrified that something is going wrong, yet she cannot move. Her body is tense and rigid as if a force is pushing on her from all directions, keeping her frozen in place. Try as she might, she could not shut down the process, even after the machine began floating above her head. It vibrates with great zeal, as if a purpose is born of its place. It began shaking with an impossible determination, a will that is both alien and terrifying to her. The machine ascends through the hole in the ceiling, breaking the surface with its shape, floating out into the void. Open mouthed, she fights to stand up and climb on to the surface to witness the process. Above her head, the machine vibrates with an interminable strength and with sudden pop, it disappears from existence.

Her gaze sporadic, she struggles to find any evidence of its location. She runs downstairs and only a black outline is etched into the ground where the machine was prior. She runs upstairs and runs a complete circle along the surface of her home, searching desperately for any sign of where it could be found. Then on the edge of audible sound, she catches a certain tempo that gradually increases in speed and sound and suddenly, into existence a molten ball of pure, white hot energy appears above her head, drastically expanding in size and diameter until a sphere the size of seven of her homes is floating above. Her gaze darts to and fro, scanning this object, trying to make sense of these events. Then as mysteriously as it appeared, it jet off into a random direction with a speed she could only imagine.

It disappeared from her gaze in an instant, leaving her alone, again. The effect of the events wore off quickly and she made her way back down the hole, into her home, her prison. She knows that she cannot leave her home, as her destined place is to pave way for creation, necessary is her purpose within this void. Any semblance of hope was gone as quickly as it was born and reality set in. She knew all about this molten rock all along. Millennia in the making, she produced it of her image, a welcoming entrance into the universe for an anomaly: life. Created from fire, autonomous beings will set forth to discover their true existence and give life to this deep, dark void. A name will be given to this molten rock that sought forth to bring life, and that name will be treasured and remembered for all eternity, as the root of creation and the spawn of a new era: Earth.


© Copyright 2017 serge. All rights reserved.

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