FABLE+
(Two chapters so far, I'm working on it... it's kinda an 'in my mind' story.)
Chapter I
It was a cold day in The City. The metallic stop signs and gray roads lightened in color, the blue streaking the sides of buildings floated into a lower shade, giving the all of The City a duller look, tasteless- a more indistinctive display then before. People walked upon the cold, drafty, wet, streets- which looked like an aftermath of a rainstorm. They passed one another, quietly chatting about work, or news inside the B-Zone, another part of The City. Few contemplated at buildings, only to walk in or pass it by in a matter of minutes. It moved slowly. But they all looked the same. White clothing, black slacks. Black clothing, white shoes. White bow, black skirt. There were shades of blue among the crowd, but only faint. The lakes moved just a little, directed by the small idling of cars in the damp streets, reflecting some of The City's skyline among it.
Eyes tensed. Squinted a bit, then blinked. She stepped to the large window, looking at the skyline, The City. This was just the way Fable liked it.
As the monotone chime of the clock tower hit 8:00 AM, people shifted. They began their stride to the D-Zone, a place of work, occupations for many to be assigned and given. It was all in an orderly fashion- six to the left, six to the right, and so on. Fable, she surveyed the area, her dark eyes scanning and searching for innormality. Her short, shoulder length snow-white hair, drifting down upon her, lowering into the large scarf wrapped around her neck, concealing her mouth. There was a small sparkle in the side of her eye-- the reflection of the sun against a glass door. Quickly, she focused, zoomed in on the disturbance. It was a man, about in his 20's, sprinting out the door, forcing something in his jacket pocket with one hand, while wielding a black suitcase in another. This one was dressed differently, not planned at all, not even trying to be coordinated with the others. Side slicked white hair, dressed in a black tux, with black dress shoes, although he looked quite serious and tensed, he was aware of what he was doing. But it was clear he was not following protocal. What followed was his own mistake. The man had collided with a citizen, a young woman, and his suitcase had spilled, revealing what was inside. Money. Stolen money. Fable's eyes tensed. Her brows angered a bit- tightened and distrayed from what was normal. This man had broken the chain. Corrupted The City. Corrupted the streets. Corrupted her world. This was unacceptable. Unforgivable and downright abhorrent. As she watched the man clean up his clutter, she turned, the white coat she wore cascading behind her, heading to the blue entryway on the wall. The tail she bore followed, as the door opened, untouched by her hand. It closed when her presence was gone, as the door itself faded to a black. She was off, to obtain the disturbtance. The noncomformist.
There was a small crack heard when she pushed him in. The well-dressed man fell to his knees, clenching his fists, beyond the cuffs that held them. In this room, everything was white but the door. In the horizon, he could the skyline. There was silence outside, deathly quiet, as the Main Street was left empty. The gray eyes he had gazed upon the streetlight hovering upon the road, inanimate. A shiver was sent down his body as he remembered the chilly weather, the cool wind once again nipping against his face. This entrancement was broken by Fable, forcing him to walk to the chair, and once he did, he was confined to it. Not yet, had he seen the face of the one that had captured him. They seemed to have disliked what he had done, the excitement he thought was right, was acceptable. His teeth clenched, much from the pain in his knees, and his brow furrowed out of incomprehension.
Fable, once restricting the disturbance to his chair, walked to the large window. From the small opening she had from her coat, she peeked her hand out, letting it sit there for a few moments. Here, she thought. Her eyes closed, the neon blue eyeliner she had contrasting with her black square tattoos resting among them. He needs to disappear. Get off of the land she had worked so hard for up to this moment. To reach the proper authority. To make everyone the same. A perfect life. But he ruined it all. She had created so much, only to have it fall. She drifted off to what type of punishment; execution, poision, or confinement.
But he spoke. "You know," his voice sounded clear and stern, planned. "what you're doing is wrong." Fable's eyes opened, she moved behind her, to that rat in the chair. It was then he looked to her. She had ears, a tail, three black squares under both eyes, neon blue eyeliner, and large, curious-wide darkened eyes. Not only this, her skin was clammy, white, quite snowy. It was then, he had discovered not only that she was the overlord of The City, but she was younger than him.
He still looked to her, as she stayed quiet. "You're conforming people." The well-dressed man sneered, he focused his eyes on hers. "All you want is a perfect place." Struggling in his seat, he clanged his handcuffs to the dull metal in the chair. "Why live in such a flat and lifeless world??!" Suddenly, his mood changed, as he looked to the building in the beyond, coveted in the gray, white mess Fable had them brought upon. Fable stared, and admittingly, inside, she was laughing at him. There was a pause, and soon, she spoke. "Your name is Chev, yes?" It was quiet, due to the shielding of her mouth. She spoke softly, not quite monotone, but with some voice to it. The well-dressed man, Chev, held his mouth shut, as he could tell she was out to continue. Slowly she blinked, turning her back to Chev, advancing her conversation. "You're going to be executed."
From behind, she herself could tell that Chev had a quick intake of breath, a shocked moment that led deep to his heart. It shouldn't be surprising for a criminal to die, but nonetheless, it was taken harshly for him. Loudly, Chev bursted out sentences and arguements, his thoughts finally coming together. "You're only conforming people, you fraud!" "There isn't a world out there that is even close to a perfect world!" "People who look the same have no virtues!!" "FRAUD! You're assigning people lives, and not even letting them live out their own!!" Here, Fable spoke back with answers and reasons, she had one for everything Chev threw at her, except one. There was something he had put out there, one truly concerning her. "Nobody believes in you, you pretender." Eyes fierce, he looked to her. Even she angered, her open hand and hair standing on end, as the buildings at the horizon began to blacken. "Fine then," Fable's voice tightened, the squares under her eyes commencing to flow down her face, slowly creating lines, in result of her boiled rage. "if confinement is what you want Chev, you'll get it."
Eyes tensed. Squinted a bit, then blinked. She stepped to the large window, looking at the skyline, The City. This was just the way Fable liked it.
As the monotone chime of the clock tower hit 8:00 AM, people shifted. They began their stride to the D-Zone, a place of work, occupations for many to be assigned and given. It was all in an orderly fashion- six to the left, six to the right, and so on. Fable, she surveyed the area, her dark eyes scanning and searching for innormality. Her short, shoulder length snow-white hair, drifting down upon her, lowering into the large scarf wrapped around her neck, concealing her mouth. There was a small sparkle in the side of her eye-- the reflection of the sun against a glass door. Quickly, she focused, zoomed in on the disturbance. It was a man, about in his 20's, sprinting out the door, forcing something in his jacket pocket with one hand, while wielding a black suitcase in another. This one was dressed differently, not planned at all, not even trying to be coordinated with the others. Side slicked white hair, dressed in a black tux, with black dress shoes, although he looked quite serious and tensed, he was aware of what he was doing. But it was clear he was not following protocal. What followed was his own mistake. The man had collided with a citizen, a young woman, and his suitcase had spilled, revealing what was inside. Money. Stolen money. Fable's eyes tensed. Her brows angered a bit- tightened and distrayed from what was normal. This man had broken the chain. Corrupted The City. Corrupted the streets. Corrupted her world. This was unacceptable. Unforgivable and downright abhorrent. As she watched the man clean up his clutter, she turned, the white coat she wore cascading behind her, heading to the blue entryway on the wall. The tail she bore followed, as the door opened, untouched by her hand. It closed when her presence was gone, as the door itself faded to a black. She was off, to obtain the disturbtance. The noncomformist.
There was a small crack heard when she pushed him in. The well-dressed man fell to his knees, clenching his fists, beyond the cuffs that held them. In this room, everything was white but the door. In the horizon, he could the skyline. There was silence outside, deathly quiet, as the Main Street was left empty. The gray eyes he had gazed upon the streetlight hovering upon the road, inanimate. A shiver was sent down his body as he remembered the chilly weather, the cool wind once again nipping against his face. This entrancement was broken by Fable, forcing him to walk to the chair, and once he did, he was confined to it. Not yet, had he seen the face of the one that had captured him. They seemed to have disliked what he had done, the excitement he thought was right, was acceptable. His teeth clenched, much from the pain in his knees, and his brow furrowed out of incomprehension.
Fable, once restricting the disturbance to his chair, walked to the large window. From the small opening she had from her coat, she peeked her hand out, letting it sit there for a few moments. Here, she thought. Her eyes closed, the neon blue eyeliner she had contrasting with her black square tattoos resting among them. He needs to disappear. Get off of the land she had worked so hard for up to this moment. To reach the proper authority. To make everyone the same. A perfect life. But he ruined it all. She had created so much, only to have it fall. She drifted off to what type of punishment; execution, poision, or confinement.
But he spoke. "You know," his voice sounded clear and stern, planned. "what you're doing is wrong." Fable's eyes opened, she moved behind her, to that rat in the chair. It was then he looked to her. She had ears, a tail, three black squares under both eyes, neon blue eyeliner, and large, curious-wide darkened eyes. Not only this, her skin was clammy, white, quite snowy. It was then, he had discovered not only that she was the overlord of The City, but she was younger than him.
He still looked to her, as she stayed quiet. "You're conforming people." The well-dressed man sneered, he focused his eyes on hers. "All you want is a perfect place." Struggling in his seat, he clanged his handcuffs to the dull metal in the chair. "Why live in such a flat and lifeless world??!" Suddenly, his mood changed, as he looked to the building in the beyond, coveted in the gray, white mess Fable had them brought upon. Fable stared, and admittingly, inside, she was laughing at him. There was a pause, and soon, she spoke. "Your name is Chev, yes?" It was quiet, due to the shielding of her mouth. She spoke softly, not quite monotone, but with some voice to it. The well-dressed man, Chev, held his mouth shut, as he could tell she was out to continue. Slowly she blinked, turning her back to Chev, advancing her conversation. "You're going to be executed."
From behind, she herself could tell that Chev had a quick intake of breath, a shocked moment that led deep to his heart. It shouldn't be surprising for a criminal to die, but nonetheless, it was taken harshly for him. Loudly, Chev bursted out sentences and arguements, his thoughts finally coming together. "You're only conforming people, you fraud!" "There isn't a world out there that is even close to a perfect world!" "People who look the same have no virtues!!" "FRAUD! You're assigning people lives, and not even letting them live out their own!!" Here, Fable spoke back with answers and reasons, she had one for everything Chev threw at her, except one. There was something he had put out there, one truly concerning her. "Nobody believes in you, you pretender." Eyes fierce, he looked to her. Even she angered, her open hand and hair standing on end, as the buildings at the horizon began to blacken. "Fine then," Fable's voice tightened, the squares under her eyes commencing to flow down her face, slowly creating lines, in result of her boiled rage. "if confinement is what you want Chev, you'll get it."
Chapter II
There was an echo in the small room, as he was pushed in. A grunt, as its vibration bounced off all the walls, about the only thing interesting that had happened inside it. He landed to the white floor, the clanging, the chime of his cuffs echoed as well. He laid, rolling to his side, his back on the floor as he looked to the figure in front of him, blurry. "Don't do this." He laughed, out of breath, and small, tired sneer crossed his face as he stared. Fable squinted. Her eyebrows fierce, eyes small now, the white in her eyes turning faintly gray. Out of her fingertips, flowed a dark liquid of orange, and what followed, out of her index finger, was the warm color of red. They swirled, curling around each other as the floated around the air, towards the floor. Vibrant, as they collided with the white flooring, was a puddle of orange-red. It spread, bursting and curling, making designs as it traveled from wall to wall. Chev, the one on the floor, his head turned gently, following the sources, watching as the whole room had changed color. Chev's eyes heavied as he observed- calm and mellow, as his mouth went agape unknowingly. As the journey ended, the colors met up once more, closing the drop of white on the ceiling. Chev's head cascaded down, his eyes linking onto her face in the doorway, Fable's.
He did not blink. There was mere silence, as Fable stared back. There was a sense of confusion in his eyes, she concurred. He was unable to understand what had happened. Deep confusion. But he was not angry, yet, Fable studied more. There was no sparkle in his gray eyes. Chev looked to her as if she was an anomaly. Still, she had not forgotten all that he had declared to her earlier. The white in her eyes only turned darker, and Chev seemed to notice this change. The entrancement he had to her only shortly had broken, as her hand flicked out, making something happen that Chev was unaware of. He felt this warmness rise in his body-- his back began to burn- as if he had been put in scalding water. With this, Chev yelled, and he struggled to get up, his hands cuffed. It was not the usual feeling- him being the one in the cuffs. Usually he had used them to his own advantage, but in this situation, it plainly wasn't. He was on his feet, his black shoes scorching in the heat of the floor. Although there were no signs of flames, it felt as if there should've been some. In the action of walking backwards, Chev lost his footing. Not only did he hate falling, but when he collided with the orange color, some of his face had touched it. It felt as if it was baking his skin. Terrifying pain- undeniably excruciating. His body burned as if he himself were a flame- his very own skin melting away in the floor's vibrancy. Chev scurried against the wall, out of breath, cringing at the immense amount of misery. He tried, with all of his strength to rise from the floor and walk across the room, over to the chilled white floor. Yet it was just so far.
Now, she looked and retreated. Small slight of the hand. A tiny splatter of blue. The floor began to swerve, and distort. The ceiling's colors, looking like paint, melted down to the flooring, erasing itself. The orange color conjoined back together at its original point, disappearing, as if nothing had happened. But Chev still laid there. His chin angled up, his teeth baring in the way of containing his screams. Sweat rolled down his face, each drop off in different pathways, but all initiated by the same reason. Lowering his head, he breathed deeply, harshly, his shoulders rising and falling in such an action that didn't seem entirely human. Once more, his eyes locked onto Fable's, his opinon of her different now. It was difficult to comprehend, that she had seemed just a mere child. She did not want abnormality. She did not want corruption. She only wanted him to disappear. To conform. Just like all the others.
Chev broke away from the lock. He breathed, his mind clear of the thoughts he didn't dare to say aloud. Fable stood in the entryway, her dainty hand snaking back into her coat. She blinked, as if she was proud of what she had done. She was. There was a quick swish in her tail, and a twitch in her ears, blank lips behind the covering of a scarf. The small clanging of metal. Fable focused- she saw movement. Chev was trying to pull apart his handcuffs, toying with them as they were elastic. Although he did this in a weary manner, it was a sign that he still fought- he wasn't broken. She needed to try harder. She advanced forward, finally stepping foot in the small confinement room. Every step she took the floor underneath changed to a vibrant color: blue, green, red, orange, yellow. Fable approached Chev against the far wall- hunched over, looking nauseated. She bent down over, trying to find Chev's face. He did not look at her. He did not want to. She waited, and he could feel her cold stare- just waiting for him to say something. Waiting for him to do something. "Why," Fable spoke, soft and quiet, the vibration in the air rousing Chev. The sound of heavy breathing. He turned his face away from her more, to forget that she was there.
"Why did you take from me?" Fable sounded stern, although her voice was hushed. Chev breathed loudly, now though, when he breathed out, they were broken up airstreams, and out of order, as if he was nervous. She stepped over to the side his head had been turned, but to her disadvantage, his head turned the other way. Complete silence. Here, Fable began to feel irked.
Tenderly, she had brought out her hand, slipping it out of her coat as she turned from Chev. Just as she commenced to bring out the color violet, he decided to speak. "It's just because.... I," Chev brought up his hands, wiping sweat away from his forehead. "Your rules.... they are foolish and dense," monotonely, he murmured. "There is no such thing as the perfect world...." he whispered, ever so quietly. Fable turned, her white face coveted with agitation. With her small voice- she wanted to speak- for she had a reason for Chev's statement, which he had put out there earlier. But he went on. "You make everyone have a similar life. But what ever happens to the fun in life...." "You took it all out.... You even... You even set up marriages..." Chev's fists curled. "You.. you can't even dress to the way you... there isn't any freedom in THIS FUCKING CITY!" He screamed, his cuffs clenched tightly around his wet hands, imprinted rings on his palms. Fable's ears twitched, her eyebrows down and firm. "You know," she uttered. "you've broken my City." Fable started toward the door, the border around it glowing neon blue. From behind, she could hear a small chuckle. "Maybe that's because people are just tired of the same old thing." Without bothering to reply back, Fable walked through the door, a blue glow, as the shade turned to white and then closed.
The skyline. Its soft gray sunset, and blue-ish gray clouds calmed her. The sweet chiming of the clock tower in the distance. It's 9:30. Fable walked to the large window in the front of the room. Cars idled on Main Street, in the left lane, all towards the A-Zone, back to their homes. The sunset reflected off the white buildings to the left. It was right on time. Yet- there was something different about the sunset- despite the non-conformist in the room behind her. It was something Fable had to focus on- the rim of the sunset-- a very delicate green. Although it was impossible for the people to see it, she could. A ring of a small, very tiny form of green. There was no mistaking it. It was corrupting her. It discovered the sunset and would somehow reach The City. It would not happen. They would not dare.
He did not blink. There was mere silence, as Fable stared back. There was a sense of confusion in his eyes, she concurred. He was unable to understand what had happened. Deep confusion. But he was not angry, yet, Fable studied more. There was no sparkle in his gray eyes. Chev looked to her as if she was an anomaly. Still, she had not forgotten all that he had declared to her earlier. The white in her eyes only turned darker, and Chev seemed to notice this change. The entrancement he had to her only shortly had broken, as her hand flicked out, making something happen that Chev was unaware of. He felt this warmness rise in his body-- his back began to burn- as if he had been put in scalding water. With this, Chev yelled, and he struggled to get up, his hands cuffed. It was not the usual feeling- him being the one in the cuffs. Usually he had used them to his own advantage, but in this situation, it plainly wasn't. He was on his feet, his black shoes scorching in the heat of the floor. Although there were no signs of flames, it felt as if there should've been some. In the action of walking backwards, Chev lost his footing. Not only did he hate falling, but when he collided with the orange color, some of his face had touched it. It felt as if it was baking his skin. Terrifying pain- undeniably excruciating. His body burned as if he himself were a flame- his very own skin melting away in the floor's vibrancy. Chev scurried against the wall, out of breath, cringing at the immense amount of misery. He tried, with all of his strength to rise from the floor and walk across the room, over to the chilled white floor. Yet it was just so far.
Now, she looked and retreated. Small slight of the hand. A tiny splatter of blue. The floor began to swerve, and distort. The ceiling's colors, looking like paint, melted down to the flooring, erasing itself. The orange color conjoined back together at its original point, disappearing, as if nothing had happened. But Chev still laid there. His chin angled up, his teeth baring in the way of containing his screams. Sweat rolled down his face, each drop off in different pathways, but all initiated by the same reason. Lowering his head, he breathed deeply, harshly, his shoulders rising and falling in such an action that didn't seem entirely human. Once more, his eyes locked onto Fable's, his opinon of her different now. It was difficult to comprehend, that she had seemed just a mere child. She did not want abnormality. She did not want corruption. She only wanted him to disappear. To conform. Just like all the others.
Chev broke away from the lock. He breathed, his mind clear of the thoughts he didn't dare to say aloud. Fable stood in the entryway, her dainty hand snaking back into her coat. She blinked, as if she was proud of what she had done. She was. There was a quick swish in her tail, and a twitch in her ears, blank lips behind the covering of a scarf. The small clanging of metal. Fable focused- she saw movement. Chev was trying to pull apart his handcuffs, toying with them as they were elastic. Although he did this in a weary manner, it was a sign that he still fought- he wasn't broken. She needed to try harder. She advanced forward, finally stepping foot in the small confinement room. Every step she took the floor underneath changed to a vibrant color: blue, green, red, orange, yellow. Fable approached Chev against the far wall- hunched over, looking nauseated. She bent down over, trying to find Chev's face. He did not look at her. He did not want to. She waited, and he could feel her cold stare- just waiting for him to say something. Waiting for him to do something. "Why," Fable spoke, soft and quiet, the vibration in the air rousing Chev. The sound of heavy breathing. He turned his face away from her more, to forget that she was there.
"Why did you take from me?" Fable sounded stern, although her voice was hushed. Chev breathed loudly, now though, when he breathed out, they were broken up airstreams, and out of order, as if he was nervous. She stepped over to the side his head had been turned, but to her disadvantage, his head turned the other way. Complete silence. Here, Fable began to feel irked.
Tenderly, she had brought out her hand, slipping it out of her coat as she turned from Chev. Just as she commenced to bring out the color violet, he decided to speak. "It's just because.... I," Chev brought up his hands, wiping sweat away from his forehead. "Your rules.... they are foolish and dense," monotonely, he murmured. "There is no such thing as the perfect world...." he whispered, ever so quietly. Fable turned, her white face coveted with agitation. With her small voice- she wanted to speak- for she had a reason for Chev's statement, which he had put out there earlier. But he went on. "You make everyone have a similar life. But what ever happens to the fun in life...." "You took it all out.... You even... You even set up marriages..." Chev's fists curled. "You.. you can't even dress to the way you... there isn't any freedom in THIS FUCKING CITY!" He screamed, his cuffs clenched tightly around his wet hands, imprinted rings on his palms. Fable's ears twitched, her eyebrows down and firm. "You know," she uttered. "you've broken my City." Fable started toward the door, the border around it glowing neon blue. From behind, she could hear a small chuckle. "Maybe that's because people are just tired of the same old thing." Without bothering to reply back, Fable walked through the door, a blue glow, as the shade turned to white and then closed.
The skyline. Its soft gray sunset, and blue-ish gray clouds calmed her. The sweet chiming of the clock tower in the distance. It's 9:30. Fable walked to the large window in the front of the room. Cars idled on Main Street, in the left lane, all towards the A-Zone, back to their homes. The sunset reflected off the white buildings to the left. It was right on time. Yet- there was something different about the sunset- despite the non-conformist in the room behind her. It was something Fable had to focus on- the rim of the sunset-- a very delicate green. Although it was impossible for the people to see it, she could. A ring of a small, very tiny form of green. There was no mistaking it. It was corrupting her. It discovered the sunset and would somehow reach The City. It would not happen. They would not dare.