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Chapter 8: Private Television
Terakhir Diperbarui:
2021-08-21 16:34:14Harper
In shock at the mass growing in front of her, It is beginning to grow bigger. Her name must be Amelia Harper Edison, and that is comforting to know. Seeing this coagulated mass formation grow from a small one centimeter to one inch to one foot in seconds, the more she focuses on it is fantastic and the little worry some at the same time. But she has no fear. It is as if she is familiar with the mass. As if she has seen it before but does not remember... she reaches her hand out and places on arm into it, and it goes inside. But not out the other end. She removes her arm. It is still just an average arm. She then decides to make the mass bigger and grabs it at its' side,s and focuses, and begins to stretch it, imagining it as being putty-like. Now the group is about five feet wide and four feet tall. She stares through it. Staring through it, images start to surface. Are they memories playing on a private television reel just for me? I see myself with a beautiful woman. We are lip locked, my fingers through her hair, and we are staring intensely into the eyes of each other. I see myself mouth the words "I Love You." The memory vanishes into smoke, and another one appears of a group of men in black suits surrounding me outside a building. I have my hands extended downward, palms showing in surrender. They quickly march up to me and use electrical sticks to knock me out. Is this how I ended up here?
I wonder if I can control this mass, this wormhole, or whatever it is called. I close my eyes hold my hands out at sides facing upwards but inwards towards my chest. Not sure why I chose this position; I suppose It just felt natural. I focus on this girl I saw in the memory. The girl with the red hair. The beautiful girl with long beautiful red hair, cherry lips, who was tall and perfectly slender and just the perfect height. Whose lips fit my lips, who held me so delicately. I focus on the need to be near her at all costs, and in doing so, something bursts out of me, some force vectoring me towards the mass, into it, sending my whole essence into it. But I fight it. I place a foot forward to hold myself back. What if this thing sends me into a black hole in outer space, and I die, or I get stuck in it and end up nowhere. I have too many questions and not enough answers. Should I even be using this here and now? They could be watching. They could be watching! Harper takes a deep, collected breath and relaxes every muscle in her body and makes her mind blank, and the mass and everything with it disappears. It is as though her body has this muscle memory she has no idea even existed. Harper knows she has used this gift thousands of times before. But she has no memory of it.
It is then I hear a knock on the door.
Bab terkait
Harper's Vector Chapter 9: The Big Catch
Agent Coulter I've read 2541 portfolios backward and forwards. I know every detail about her and have been tracking her for over forty years, and now I have her. I have her right here in one of my black rooms. So far, everything is going well; she is taking to the treatments to plan, and amnesia is taking over faster than I expected, which is even better. I need her to forget it all. Forget me, forget that red-headed devil, forget her group of jumpers, forget who she is, and especially what she can do at full potential. I need her to trust me. Need her to be on our side. Think of the possibilities if we had her as a weapon. She could jump over into people and gain top-secret information. Play the part for a time, even make deals on our behalf. The possibilities are endless. The red-head was too weak. I am sure Harper knew she wouldn't have lasted long here. But my Amelia, you are the one. The big catch, and you're all mine. I wonder if you'll
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-08-25Harper's Vector Chapter 10: 1890
Amelia Harper Edison - 1890, Playing piano in the home courtyard was my escape from the mundane, the tedious things required of a woman during this century. I've always had a yearning for something more, something beyond my physical senses; felt but not seen. At the age of just twenty, I was past marrying age, but no suitors ever to my likening, and I came from a wealthy enough family to reject offers. So I run my fingers through these keys and call out for something, someone to hear my desires and dreams. Rêverie by Claude Debussy is one of my favorites. I can be in any mood, and this song speaks to me. His music is dreamlike and makes me feel like I am back in my dreams when I play. From a young age, I have been told I am in my head so much that I will become trapped there. I always remember thinking, would that be such a bad thing? My dreams have, in a sense, become my reality. My most recent dream I flew. Can you imagine flying—what a wonder. In
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-08-29Harper's Vector Chapter 11: A Bad Thing
Rick I did a bad thing. Breaking training is just not me. If you knew me and everything it has taken me to get to this point, you would know I do not break protocol. I was raised in a strict household—eldest of five brothers. Always the one in trouble. I always had the toughest of rules, and I grew used to it all, which was why military life and later the black build of the government field worked for me. Rules. Do as you're told. Hurry up, and then wait. Face forward and do not look around, up or down. Never ask questions. The senior leadership is always right. So why did I do this evil thing? Moreover, why did I continue?! I couldn't tell you. Intuition. Something beyond me guiding me to do so if you believe in that sort of crap. Inmate 2541, I just had to keep looking at her profile sheets for daily information. I don't even know how she looks, not that it matters; I mean, pictures are not provided in our schedule information sheets. My page is brief. It's a
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-08-29Harper's Vector Chapter 12: Mr. Slender
Harper There is a knock at the door, and a slender man in a black suit enters. My body tenses, and I grip the sink hard rectangular top. Why does my body's memory do this? Do I know this man? I stare at him through the mirror. I do not turn around; I cannot. My grip is firm upon the sink. My eyes focus hard upon him, trying to figure out how I know him. Somewhere deep down, in the pits of my soul, I know him! My brain's electrical circuits are firing at rapid rates. He looks at something and then speaks, and I space out for what feels like hours. All of a sudden, the room goes black, and all I see around me is darkness. I try to focus on something, anything. But there is nothing. I know I am still in the black room because I feel my grip on the sink counter. Focus Harper, I tell myself. I internalize that I have my eyes closed, that there is no noise, that I am weightless, that I am for a moment, safe. Then I see it. Soft gray matter begins to materialize
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-08-30Harper's Vector Chapter 13: Recipe of Life
Cecilia Harper and I met when I was just twelve years old. I had lost my parents to the disease, and I had run away from an orphanage and lived on the streets. Not to drag out a sad story, but she became a mother to me, and later, as I grew older and wiser, I became a teacher to others, so I became her friend, her most trusted. She taught me many things in life, and one of the most important lessons she ever taught me was the "Recipe of Life," and it is this: - 1/2 cup of warmth and kind words - 1/2 cup of joy and good memories - 1 spoon of empathy - 1 pinch of humor Then you stir everything together softly, enjoy, and you'll feel how positive energies are renewed. There has always been something special about Harper that has brought us all together and kept us together as a family. With her gone, more fights have begun about the proper use of the Vortex and the ethics behind it.
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-05Harper's Vector Chapter 14: A Freckled Universe of You
Rowan As I lay in a cot in the safe house, all I can do is think of Harper. Headphones on my head, music playing on loud. I have a small journal in my backpack; I never go anywhere without it. It's none of Harper's journals. I re-read one of my favorite poems she wrote. It will always be my favorite one. It is titled: "A Freckled Universe of You": I use to feel purposeless without direction. I found myself days and days of just being in bed, not eating, not showering, just laying - just avoiding the world. I mean, what's the point of being in a world and living in it when the way others live it doesn't make sense to you. So you feel wrong, broken, and lost. What's the p
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-05Harper's Vector Chapter 15: A Dead Man Named Nicolas Sarkozy
Agent Coulter I am a simple man. I used to want nothing more to life than a wife, family, and a lovely cottage near a lake. But once you find out there is more to life than trivial things, it is hard to go back to wanting peasantry. In another life, my name was Nicolas Sarkozy, and I was born in the heart of New York City, but that is the past, and that man is long dead. She killed him long ago, Amelia Harper Edison. I will admit I loved her once when I was a young man filled with life, eagerness, hope, and more. But that man is dead; she made sure he would cease to exist that day she said "no" to him. When I think back on it all now, a much older and prayer man, a wiser man, I believe how cruel of a woman deep down she truly is to have given out the universe and then taken it away so quickly. When I met Amelia, who now calls herself Harper, she was elegant, beautiful, pristine, everything you imagine a woman should be, the pict
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-13Harper's Vector Chapter 16: Flashbacks
Harper I am doing much better now. I think I am starting to remember more, to retain more. I am having flashbacks as I sit here on the edge of this bed. My situation no longer feels somber, bleak. There is hope in knowing I at least know who I am. I play with my hair and twist it in circles around my fingers. I've got to look busy for the big screen. I know they are watching. The problem: I have no idea how to control this "thing" inside me—this feeling of force. Something is there, something deep down, a muscle that has been used so many times that yearns to be used again. Yet, I do not remember how. I keep having these flashes where my head rings. I close my eyes for a moment, and I have to put my hands to my head, and I yell out in pain for a moment, and I see all-white for a few moments, but in those minutes, a memory will come through. I've learned a lot already, but none are a completed trail—just bread crumbs. If I can get out of here, I can use those crumbs to find t
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-18
Bab terbaru
Harper's Vector Chapter 18: Vibrations
Harper If I can't figure out how to use this "thing" inside of me, and figure it out quickly. I will be stuck here forever. I know I don't have long. That much is a sure thing. That creepy man who calls himself Mr. Coulter, actually Nicolas, is just a tall, slender creep. I'm not too fond of the way he looks at me. He has the look of a desperate man, and that makes me think he is growing impatient. He wants something from me, and I can't provide it. Because I honestly cannot, but even if I could, I am sure I wouldn't give him a god damn thing. So what now? Even if I try and practice, if I try to meditate, to focus my mind, they will just stop me. I have this fear of closing my eyes of trying to focus. It is instinct now, muscle memory. My body is restraining itself from concentrating, so I know they have been stopping me. I just don't know-how. There is nothing in this room to help me. Although I feel hopeful to remember more, that hope is quickly falling away as I sea
Harper's Vector Chapter 17: Two Sides Collide
Rick I met someone. It is still early, but she is beautiful, and her name is Leah. I met her at a grocery store, and we met talking about meat of all things. Funny how the world delivers precisely what you need at the moment you most need it. I've only known Leah two days, but in those couple of days, I feel like she has come to know me better than anyone else, even my family. I feel connected to her like I can tell her anything. She doesn't make me feel any pressure, just comfort. I have never been the kind of man to open up to people, but with her, it is as if the words fall off my tongue. I could tell her anything. So far, we have held hands and a few kisses here and there, but I am a patient man, and this is all enough for now. She says she likes to take things slow. She doesn't want to talk about her past, says it is too hard to talk about and that someday when she is ready, she will reach that point. Last night we went out for dinner; I took her to a roma
Harper's Vector Chapter 16: Flashbacks
Harper I am doing much better now. I think I am starting to remember more, to retain more. I am having flashbacks as I sit here on the edge of this bed. My situation no longer feels somber, bleak. There is hope in knowing I at least know who I am. I play with my hair and twist it in circles around my fingers. I've got to look busy for the big screen. I know they are watching. The problem: I have no idea how to control this "thing" inside me—this feeling of force. Something is there, something deep down, a muscle that has been used so many times that yearns to be used again. Yet, I do not remember how. I keep having these flashes where my head rings. I close my eyes for a moment, and I have to put my hands to my head, and I yell out in pain for a moment, and I see all-white for a few moments, but in those minutes, a memory will come through. I've learned a lot already, but none are a completed trail—just bread crumbs. If I can get out of here, I can use those crumbs to find t
Harper's Vector Chapter 15: A Dead Man Named Nicolas Sarkozy
Agent Coulter I am a simple man. I used to want nothing more to life than a wife, family, and a lovely cottage near a lake. But once you find out there is more to life than trivial things, it is hard to go back to wanting peasantry. In another life, my name was Nicolas Sarkozy, and I was born in the heart of New York City, but that is the past, and that man is long dead. She killed him long ago, Amelia Harper Edison. I will admit I loved her once when I was a young man filled with life, eagerness, hope, and more. But that man is dead; she made sure he would cease to exist that day she said "no" to him. When I think back on it all now, a much older and prayer man, a wiser man, I believe how cruel of a woman deep down she truly is to have given out the universe and then taken it away so quickly. When I met Amelia, who now calls herself Harper, she was elegant, beautiful, pristine, everything you imagine a woman should be, the pict
Harper's Vector Chapter 14: A Freckled Universe of You
Rowan As I lay in a cot in the safe house, all I can do is think of Harper. Headphones on my head, music playing on loud. I have a small journal in my backpack; I never go anywhere without it. It's none of Harper's journals. I re-read one of my favorite poems she wrote. It will always be my favorite one. It is titled: "A Freckled Universe of You": I use to feel purposeless without direction. I found myself days and days of just being in bed, not eating, not showering, just laying - just avoiding the world. I mean, what's the point of being in a world and living in it when the way others live it doesn't make sense to you. So you feel wrong, broken, and lost. What's the p
Harper's Vector Chapter 13: Recipe of Life
Cecilia Harper and I met when I was just twelve years old. I had lost my parents to the disease, and I had run away from an orphanage and lived on the streets. Not to drag out a sad story, but she became a mother to me, and later, as I grew older and wiser, I became a teacher to others, so I became her friend, her most trusted. She taught me many things in life, and one of the most important lessons she ever taught me was the "Recipe of Life," and it is this: - 1/2 cup of warmth and kind words - 1/2 cup of joy and good memories - 1 spoon of empathy - 1 pinch of humor Then you stir everything together softly, enjoy, and you'll feel how positive energies are renewed. There has always been something special about Harper that has brought us all together and kept us together as a family. With her gone, more fights have begun about the proper use of the Vortex and the ethics behind it.
Harper's Vector Chapter 12: Mr. Slender
Harper There is a knock at the door, and a slender man in a black suit enters. My body tenses, and I grip the sink hard rectangular top. Why does my body's memory do this? Do I know this man? I stare at him through the mirror. I do not turn around; I cannot. My grip is firm upon the sink. My eyes focus hard upon him, trying to figure out how I know him. Somewhere deep down, in the pits of my soul, I know him! My brain's electrical circuits are firing at rapid rates. He looks at something and then speaks, and I space out for what feels like hours. All of a sudden, the room goes black, and all I see around me is darkness. I try to focus on something, anything. But there is nothing. I know I am still in the black room because I feel my grip on the sink counter. Focus Harper, I tell myself. I internalize that I have my eyes closed, that there is no noise, that I am weightless, that I am for a moment, safe. Then I see it. Soft gray matter begins to materialize
Harper's Vector Chapter 11: A Bad Thing
Rick I did a bad thing. Breaking training is just not me. If you knew me and everything it has taken me to get to this point, you would know I do not break protocol. I was raised in a strict household—eldest of five brothers. Always the one in trouble. I always had the toughest of rules, and I grew used to it all, which was why military life and later the black build of the government field worked for me. Rules. Do as you're told. Hurry up, and then wait. Face forward and do not look around, up or down. Never ask questions. The senior leadership is always right. So why did I do this evil thing? Moreover, why did I continue?! I couldn't tell you. Intuition. Something beyond me guiding me to do so if you believe in that sort of crap. Inmate 2541, I just had to keep looking at her profile sheets for daily information. I don't even know how she looks, not that it matters; I mean, pictures are not provided in our schedule information sheets. My page is brief. It's a
Harper's Vector Chapter 10: 1890
Amelia Harper Edison - 1890, Playing piano in the home courtyard was my escape from the mundane, the tedious things required of a woman during this century. I've always had a yearning for something more, something beyond my physical senses; felt but not seen. At the age of just twenty, I was past marrying age, but no suitors ever to my likening, and I came from a wealthy enough family to reject offers. So I run my fingers through these keys and call out for something, someone to hear my desires and dreams. Rêverie by Claude Debussy is one of my favorites. I can be in any mood, and this song speaks to me. His music is dreamlike and makes me feel like I am back in my dreams when I play. From a young age, I have been told I am in my head so much that I will become trapped there. I always remember thinking, would that be such a bad thing? My dreams have, in a sense, become my reality. My most recent dream I flew. Can you imagine flying—what a wonder. In
