The Minder

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A very short story in the Omega Genesis Universe.

Submitted: December 11, 2016

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Submitted: December 11, 2016




“It’s blue.”

The words were said with wonder as they always were. Minder 724 nodded blandly, unsurprised at the child’s statement.

All of the children said something similar when they finally laid eyes on the world below. All of them amazed that the world they had heard so much about was actually as strange as the stories themselves.

“Yes, Miss.” Agreed Minder 724. “It is blue.”

The minder was a weary looking creature, its sallow skin and unhealthy pallor the result of a lifetime spent in unnatural light or no light at all, compounded by a lack of nutrition. Food was precious here in the Cell.

The child on the other hand was hearty and hale, its kind needed no normal sustenance although many of them enjoyed eating anyway; that was the way with the devils; Minder 724 had raised dozens of them and was so used to their ways it was impossible to surprise him anymore.

Minder’s eyes followed the child as it shoved the mottled flesh of its face against the thick observation deck glass, wondering if perhaps the sprouting horns on the child’s brow might crack the surface and open a hole into the void, sending him into the icy embrace of space and to his death.

That would be a thankful release.

It didn’t happen though and eventually the young master grew bored of looking at the planet below and stepped away with a slight huff, looking at Minder through slitted eyes.

“I’m hungry.” The child said, smiling through pointed teeth. “Feed me.”

Again, Minder 724 simply nodded submissively and gestured for the devil child to lead the way to the degustation chamber.

Few creatures moved about at this hour, not because they were resting; devils rarely rested, but most of them were ensconced in their own little lairs, breeding pits; torture chambers, the grease kitchens and the killing circles, the habits of devils were nothing if not excessive.

Minder 724 had often wondered if a child could be trained to be different, if perhaps with a gentler upbringing it might not become one of the twisted monsters that claimed rulership over the Cell and its wretched inhabitants, the Slave Kind.

That was what the devils called him and those like him, Slave Kind, once the undisputed rulers of the planet revolving below and now nothing more than the broken vestiges of an almost dead species. That was what he knew, he had never set foot on Earth, neither had his parents or their parents; but he knew one day they would return, the devils often spoke of how they would have their vengeance on the Usurpers. The Slave Kind listened to such stories with downcast eyes and embers of vengeance in their hearts, flames unquenched by long years of torturous servitude.

Revenge would be theirs.

“Feed me slave.”

It was the child, its thin mottled skin shifted across its face grotesquely as it bared its needle teeth in a grimace. It was still small this cancerous runt; Minder 724 might be able to kill it if he was quick, but even as the thought came into his mind the child’s paper thin skin seemed to fill and its black hole eyes grew darker yet more luminous; Minder couldn’t tell but it even seemed to grow taller and its bare flesh solidified, muscles bulking ever so slightly across its bony frame.

It was feeding.

Minder tried to calm himself but it was too late. He wanted to kill this child, to rend its body into pieces; how long must he suffer? How long must they all suffer as thralls to these inhuman obsessions made flesh? He would kill them all.

Kill them all

Kill them all

He gasped and blinked his eyes, the red haze of fury fading quickly as he tried to compose himself. Yet again he had failed to prevent the child feeding and once again it drew closer to the point of no return, apotheosis into a Named One.

Minder 724’s head dropped in shame as the child held out a hand to him; its skin now pink and flush with good health, its golden hair curled around its brow and the twin nubs of horn on its forehead just a little bigger, beginning to curl back across its crown.

“Thankyou.” The devil child said, for a moment, now that it was full there was no malice in its voice; no hidden deception or anger, it was for all its unnatural vigour, just a child.

But tomorrow it would need to feed again, dragging out the endless shame and anger the Slave Kind still felt after three hundred years of service as they waited for the devils to return to the Earth and destroy, then reclaim the lands they had lost to hope and joy and love.

© Copyright 2019 Baart Groot. All rights reserved.

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