EPT________________________________________________________________________________
It hadn’t occurred to her until then that there existed something else beyond the here-and-now. Her mind reached out looked for some fix, some simple answer to this new problem that was evading her. And yet she simply could not grasp such an idea. Not then, anyway.
“But… but what do you mean!!”
Ellen's mother hated when Ellen whined, and she knew it, but she simply couldn’t stop herself when it came to these things. When she didn’t know something Ellen would search for the answer endlessly, every challenge only making her work harder to reach a conclusion. Her mother realized she had led Ellen into such a trap, and immediately retracted what she had said.
“Never mind sweetheart, I didn’t mean anything by it. Now go on up, or you’ll never be able to wake up tomorrow.”
“Come on mom, no one cares about the first day of school.”
“Maybe not in last year, or the year before, but I’ve heard that the first day of third grade is the most important day of all.”
Ellen rolled her eyes. For the umpteenth time, her mom thought of how grown up Ellen was and for the umpteenth time, she felt her own age, weighing her down. She reached up and smoothed the wrinkles around her eyes and on her forehead.
My little baby is going to be a third grader!
She knew she was being overly sentimental, but she reassured herself that that is what mothers are good for. Taking a deep breath, and closing her eyes for a moment, the emotion inside her died down as quickly as it welled up. Ellen seemed not to have noticed the momentary lapse in her mother’s demeanor.
“I don’t know what I want to be” said Ellen, quite loudly.
Though she had regained her composure, her mother was startled at the outburst and confused at the change of subject. Then she remembered the conversation that had started this, and, exasperated, sighed.
“Honey. It’s nothing, really. Now go to bed or I won’t drive you tomorrow.”
“You wouldn’t do that. Or, well, you wouldn’t not do that.”
Her mother laughed to herself. Ellen was always good at that, making her mother laugh, and, of course, she knew Ellen was right. She spoiled Ellen rotten, and, knowing how much Ellen hated the bus, she would practically never make Ellen take it to school. Regardless, she stood there and gave Ellen a stern look, and, after a pause, Ellen understood. It was Ellen’s turn to sigh.
“Fine. ‘Night mom.”
“Goodnight sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning. Love you.”
Ellen gave a half-hearted mmhmm before leaving the hallway to go to her room. Her mother heard the door click open, and then click shut.
Then, slowly, her head opened, revealing her true form. A massive, grey-green iguana head sat atop the spiny neck of some beast unknown. Her torso opened at the middle, claws tearing their way out ripping apart everything in their way.
The beast heard a noise. Or rather, lacking sensory apparatus with which to hear, it felt the noise. Its thoughts reached out in tendrils around itself in every direction. It identified the noise as the opening of the door.
Ellen.
If the beast had nerves, it may have lost them then. If Ellen were to discover its existence, all would be lost. The beast felt the footsteps of Ellen, each vibration more dreadful than the last. As it felt Ellen draw near, it searched chaotically for a way out. Acting quickly, the beast melted.
“Mom?” Ellen called, “I forgot to put my backpack by the door. That’s all I’m doing, I’m going straight to bed aft—gross!!!”
The beast was freed from worry then, knowing that Ellen had mistaken it for some “gross” puddle in which she had just stepped rather than the beast it truly was. Ellen moved swiftly, wiping her foot on the ground and putting her bag by the door. She carefully stepped around the beast, and went to her mother’s bedroom door. The beast waited in nervous anticipation, hoping—if the beast was capable of such feelings—that Ellen did not decide to look for or try to talk to her mother. Ellen placed her hand on the door’s handle, and the beast almost lashed out. But Ellen made some decision, perhaps to just let her mother sleep, and moved away from her door. She quickly returned to her room and soon, the beast could feel, she was asleep.
If an onlooker were to watch then, they would have seen a most peculiar sight. The onlooker would witness a normal puddle, in a normal kitchen, in a normal house that normally housed normal people, do something quite extraordinary. The onlooker would see the puddle shuddering, forming ripples along the surface of the liquid. The onlooker would watch the puddle flickering gold and then green, and then bursting outwards. In this explosion, the onlooker would witness a solid mass take form, a creature terrifying beyond imagination. The onlooker would see its body, curved and slender with a waxy texture to it, and on the whole quite large. The onlooker would certainly observe that—from various angles—protruded several gleaming, silver wickedly hooked claws, nearly nine inches in length and sharp enough to slice through whatever may be unfortunate to interrupt its path. This onlooker would very likely notice that the beast did not have eyes, nor ears, nor in fact any facial features at all. In fact, the onlooker would most probably be disturbed and confused, if not by the birth of a beast, then by the endless motion to the thing. The onlooker could not help but realize that it did not ever stop moving.
In fact, there was an onlooker then, and though the onlooker saw and realized and noticed these things, they felt none of the aforementioned fear, for in fact they could not feel at all. The onlookers name was Nicholas Brindlefourth Theodore Johnson, and he had lost his ability to feel emotion of any sort at only seventeen years of age.
In the first ten years or so of life, Nicholas developed faster, mentally, than anyone before him, throughout all time. By the time he was fifteen he had essentially solved the world’s problems, and was simply looking for a method of implementation, and, by seventeen, he found that method. Unfortunately, an accident during this implementation regarding a misplaced stapler and several toothpicks robbed Nicholas of any ability to feel emotion along with any ability to communicate his ideas. At first, Nicholas tried desperately to exchange his plans with others, before quickly realized his attempts were futile. He became depressed, except he couldn’t actually feel depressed, which confused him, except he couldn’t feel confusion either. He then realized the extent to which he had set himself back, and, despite dwelling on it for a long time, felt nothing. Nicholas soon became quiet, isolated within in his own mind, contemplating and theorizing despite knowing that any and all of his works would never see the light of day, light of day here acting as a metaphor for society, as in none of Nicholas’ ideas would never be communicated to society. Along with his newfound silence, Nicholas became much more observant, watching more closely more often, and perceiving what he had never before even noticed. Ironically enough, this made him ever more brilliant, and had it not been for his inability to feel, Nicholas would become even more frustrated over his loss of communicatory abilities.
Regardless of his history, Nicholas looked on at the beast, and, had he been capable, would have felt bewilderment and fear. Instead, Nicholas simply watched, and as he watched the beast seemed to turn towards him, though it was impossible to tell due to the lack of a face. Slowly, the beast drew near, and Nicholas decided it would be best to leave then. He fled.
The beast sensed Nicholas’ communicatory inabilities, and so thought Nicholas unimportant. It stood still for a moment longer, and then suddenly jumped to attention. It had felt a presence other than its own, and that of the now-gone Nicholas. It struck the beast odd that it had not felt her, but it assumed that it had been too caught up in its fascination with Nicholas. It turned, slowly.
Ellen.
She stood there, her face contorted into a mixed look of confusion, fright, and disgust, a look the beast often received. For a moment she was speechless, and then for another she looked as if she might scream. A dreadful calm come over Ellen, and then, an even more dreadful understanding.
It was then that the beast was shut from Ellen’s mind; it could no longer feel her thoughts, nor her emotions. It felt the transformation happen just as it realized what was going on.
Ellen’s body slowly burst, like a balloon filled with needles that someone shook, making the needles hit the balloon’s innards, causing it to burst, but slower. The beast felt the muscles of the monster it now faced ripple in anticipation. The monster had a white-red sheen to it and the beast felt the monster’s claws glisten in the light of the kitchen.
The two began to encircle each other. The beast could feel that the monster was slightly smaller and more compact than the beast. As the beast prepared to attack and defend, it tried again to penetrate the monster’s mental defenses. Again its attempts were futile, and now it had to concentrate on protecting its own thoughts; it could feel the monster’s thoughts trying to enter its own mind.
Without warning, the monster lunged, thrusting its claw-ridden body at the beast at full force. Though the monster was faster, the beast was stronger, and it leaned into the attack full force. It felt the monster try to pull back, to switch directions, but the beast knew it was too late. The monster writhed uncontrollably as it was impaled upon the beast’s claws. The beast knew the battle could easily be won, but was not over yet. It put the entirety of its body weight onto its claws; a viscous yellow liquid began to ooze from the wounds. The beast felt the monster’s mental hold weaken, and took this chance to penetrate the monster’s thoughts, feeling the pain and panic of the monster. For a moment the beast remained untouched. Then its concentration on the monster’s thoughts was broken by a burst of pain followed quickly by the realization as to what had happened. The monster had continued to thrash wildly, and the beast, caught up in the monster’s mind, had taken no measures of precaution. Now a gleaming orange liquid leaked from its body, joining the yellow from the monsters. The beast squirmed in an attempt to break away from the monster, and the monster wriggled underneath it, with the same idea in mind.
Shortly thereafter, the two gave up on their fruitless attempts at escape, and, quite simply, waited to die. Die they did, the monster first and then the beast. They laid there, beast and monster, entangled in death.
And Nicholas watched. And Nicholas waited.
TO BE CONTINUED?????
________________________________________________________________________________
Edit: Couldn't figure out how to format it so it tabbed right, which annoys me but hopefully wont annoy anybody else. Just a little OCD on my part.
Also: I know the transition or lack thereof is ridiculous, but thats kind of the point. Hoped tl would get that without explanation.
