Immortal No More

Mine Imagination

Immortal No More

 

I was born too late to explore the world.

Born too early to explore the stars.

Lived long enough to see the human race become disenchanted with peace and strive for destruction.

Then there was peace again.

Although short lived it lasted long enough to sentence me to a thousand years for love.

Ah, love.

A four letter word forbidden by my kind.

“Thou shall not love mortals.”

A rule written by the ancients. Enforced by the elites. Devoured by time.

Yet, here I am.

Here I have been.

For what?

Who knows? I stopped counting after two thousand.

Years.

Good thing I don’t need food or water.

I’ve got quite cozy over the years. Immortal prisons are built for comfort and a long stay. Needless to say the library is immaculate. Books upon books line the walls, we believe our kind should always have access to education. Row after row create a labyrinth of words, I know more languages that have gone extinct than that existed in the 21st century. Fiction. Science. Romance. Art. Business. Religion. Alchemy. All sorts of literature stockpiled by my kind for generations.

I’ve read them all.

A sigh.

The books smell like freshly printed paper and newly dried ink. The books still crack when opened as if my eyes never skimmed each sentence.

My kind has mastered the skill of preservation. Everything in pristine condition as if brand new.

The escape of fiction is more my cup of tea.

Especially in my current position.

I can imagine the growth of technology, the boom in economy.

Before I was locked away perpetual energy was discovered by the mortals. With their fascination of the unknown and imaginations I’m positive they’ve all but forgotten me.

My kind lack imagination, unless stimulated by an outside source. We are products of our time and grow as the world does. Forever forward.

Flow.

A concept derived from Mine Imagination. A book written for entertainment. A book that stirred the hearts of the mortals to pursue their individual dreams.

Comical.

Yet, profound.

The garden has thrived.

More a forest now. The trees have grown taller than I care to climb these days but stupendous they are indeed. The animals, my companions, have bred and proliferated throughout my prison. I’ve become friends with most. The bears and the birds tend to be more interactive than the others. I don’t bother, nature is as nature intended. Wild.

Just... confined.

A deep guttural growl reverberates through the garden.

I stop in my tracks.

I don’t like cats. Majestic? Yes. Pests? Like you could never imagine.

They don’t like me.

Big.

Small.

Doesn’t matter.

They treat me the same.

A twig snaps behind me. My jaw clenches.

I’ll be mauled.

As usual.

Limbs torn from my body.

Throat clamped down on with six inch canines.

Urgh, I hate being mutilated.

It’ll grow back, just hurts like a...

The air is knocked out of me.

Red. Is all I can see.

It went for the head. That’s new.

However, the warmth that covers me is not my blood.

It is not wet.

It’s dry.

And soft.

And loving.

I sniff.

The smell of pine trees and river moss is like pungent cologne. One that I know.

I know well.

I reach around and embrace the beast.

It is my friend.

The oldest of them all.

I am freed from their grip and crumble at it’s feet.

My broken bones mend as I stand.

“Hello, Crim.”

A full grown Crimson Tuft Bear waves back at me and vocalizes.

It’s hello is more a roar that scatters the birds and sends the prey creatures to find shelter.

I met this bear maybe two to three hundred years ago. She was the size of a two liter bottle of soda at the time. She had fallen from her nest and I returned her. To my dismay her mother showed up as I started to leave. I was mangled and fed to the darling I saved.

Needless to say I survived.

After consuming my flesh the bear became like me.

Preserved.

Although not indefinitely but long enough for her thick crimson fur to be streaked with white. I smile up at her and she bars her teeth to do the same.

I place my hand against her nose and she presses her head into my palm. She groans. Then a small yelp comes from behind her.

A cub. A brilliant crimson bear cub with bright blue eyes and a wonderful expression. It chirps and hesitantly joins Crim.

“Crim you had a baby!”

The giant bear seems to play coy. She nudges the small bear forward. It sniffs me then sticks out it’s tongue as if I stink.

I might.

When did I last bathe?

I play with Crim’s daughter. I take pictures. Her measurements. A sample of her fur. And a swab of her teeth.

I’ve been keeping records of all the animals that reside in the prison. Some as I’ve said are more fond of me than others, but sacrifices must be made in the name of science.

I’m usually the sacrifice.

Crim and her cub leave me. The cub clings to her mothers back as she ascends a tree.

Must be near nightfall.

The smell of rain is in the air.

The short walk back to my confinement quarters are uneventful. Much like the day. The months. The years. The decades. It’s always the same.

I often wonder if they’ve forgotten me.

Then I realize I don’t care.

I could go on forever without so much as meeting another person.

Who needs people.

People suck.

They’ve got opinions and judgements. Liars. Band wagon riders. Mystery instigators.

I spit, the thought of Twitter disgusts me.

I note Crim’s cub and her information in a book. My book. Histories greatest lost treasure it never knew it had. I don’t need to sleep, but I like it. It’s time consuming.

Tomorrow I’ll bathe.

The bathhouse is the only station that must be controlled manually. I punch in the instructions for my shower on a screen. The sound of shifting tiles and water fills my ears. I remember why I detest showering. The awful screeching. After a few moments the doors open.

I step in a drop my towel.

A frosted mirror stands before me. I dare not look. For my unkempt appearance may scare me. I cross to the bubbling mud awaiting me.

A nourishing muck that sucks me down into it’s depths.

I can feel the enzymes deftly scrubbing the dirt from my skin. My fingernails and toenails are filed down to a more presentable length. The mud is then massaged into my hair by invisible hands and I moan. The mud begins to recede and the pool I’m left in fills with a warm silver liquid. It strips the dried mud from my skin leaving it flawless.

The silver liquid rises above my head and removes the mud, tangles, knots and imperfections in my hair. The silver liquid is flushed and replaced with water. It freezes and I enjoy the chill that reaches my bones and soothes the aches I didn’t realize I had.

I need to do this more often.

When I’m thawed my body feels brand new.

I am reborn. I walk back to the frosted mirror, now that I’m clean I’m not afraid of what I might see anymore.

I blush.

Whoa.

My stomach is taut, abs abundant, muscles defined, but most importantly my curves are intact. A perk of my kind.

My olive skin is firm, my tattoos are like perfectly etched stains against my skin. My curly black hair is shiny, buoyant even.

I hate it.

I approach the mirror and a display appears with grooming options. I choose to cut my hair into a bob. A stiff wind rises from beneath me and continues until my hair falls perfectly to my chin.

I look simply divine.

I take my time and paint my nails like a mortal. Some menial tasks I enjoy doing, such as this.

Black is my choice of color.

Always has been.

For my hands and feet.

After observing my nudity. I take a deep breath. My perky breast rise with the breath and upon my exhale they bounce.

A giggle escapes and I leave.

I feel like getting dressed today.

I skip through the prison back to my confinement and into my closet. The light flickers to life.

That’s odd,

Oh well.

I find a black and white polka dot dress that flares at the waist. I pull it over my head and the fabric feels divine against my skin. I twirl and feel a breeze between my legs, my cheeks warm, and I remember.

Panties are a necessity.

I pull on a pair of frilled silk panties that were my loves favorite. For a mortal he had exceptional taste for my comfort.

The lights flicker snatching me from my thoughts.

Wanting to flee the pain of the past. I choose to investigate the flicker. I’ve mastered this prison. I’ve learned the inner workings of every cog in this facility, it’s a timeless capsule of perpetual energy.

No light should flicker. I move through the library, down a secret corridor behind the last stack. Up a spiraling staircase and into what was supposed to be the control center. I’ve got no idea why the guards fled, but at this point I don’t care. I begin checking all the systems and everything comes back normal.

I sit back in a high backed chair and spin. That’s when it happens. Alarms throughout the entire prison scream to life. A holographic keyboard rises in front of me and a holographic display of the prison presents itself to me.

I watch three red dots moving through the facility.

Gunshots ring out.

I grab a glass orb that acts as a mobile command center and race through the familiar halls. The three dimensional display shows the red dots moving through the simulated farm I’ve allowed the cats to claim. Then more gunshots ring out.

My heart aches.

I never hated the cats.

I’ve always hated guns.

The three red dots move towards the garden. I double back and use a shortcut I found years ago.

I don’t need air.

I don’t need to breathe.

Old habits die hard as I pant and brace myself on my knees.

Crim’s roar is threatening and loud. I cry out.

“Crim!”

The bear whines when it hears my voice. Then I hear a shot.

Fury burns through me like a wild fire and I scale the nearest tree to have a better view of the area.

Three men in tactical gear move through my prison as if in a game. Their weapons drawn. Trigger fingers ready to kill anything that moves. I see them surrounding Crim’s limp body.

One of them raises a pistol to her head and I roar, “Don’t you dare!”

My voice must have shocked them because they all turn with their weapons raised.

“Who’s there?”

They spread out giving each other hand signals.

I don’t bother answering, instead I leap from the tree and swoop down amongst them like a sparrow. I land next to Crim’s head and she whines. l cradle her head in my lap. Her tongue hangs from her mouth and her breaths become shallow.

Tears well up in my eyes, “It’s going to be okay Crim.”

I lie to the dying beast. My tears overflow and pour for my eyes and slide from my cheek. They splash against her brows. She bars her teeth as if to smile. It’s reassuring and heartbreaking at the same time.

Then I remember her cub, “Where’s Little Crim?”

The bear is too weak to move but uses her remaining energy to call her cub. Little Crim pokes her head from a bush and rushes towards us. I lift her and turn but find I’ve been cornered by the men. Their weapons trained on me.

“What the hell?” One asks.

They are mortals looking for an explanation. Most mortals do.

Good thing I got dressed today they may have killed me on sight.

I smile.

“I thought you said this place was human free.”

“That’s what the scanners read back at the base.”

“What do we do?”

Then men speak to one another as if I’m not standing in front of them. I lift my eyebrow and place my hand on my hip with Little Crim clinging to my waist as if I were her mother.

“We should call the Captain.”

“He’ll tell us to secure the premises. This might be our last chance at finding shelter on this planet.”

“What about her?”

They all look to me. I roll my eyes and ask, “What about me?”

The men have no clue what to do. Their faces reflect confused thoughts. I don’t like these mortals. Just like every other mortal before me. They shoot first and ask questions later.

I sigh as I gracefully weave between the bullets that move towards me. Once they’ve emptied their clips they recognize the danger.

“I’m so sorry,” the first says.

I put my fist through his skull.

The others scream in terror and try to escape. I give them a head start.

Time to hunt.

I dash after the one who raise his pistol to Crim’s head. He doesn’t get very far. I lunge and slam into his back. I hear a crack that echoes. I roll forward and back onto my feet. Little Crim’s head spins as she almost falls but I catch her. The man groans.

His back is broken and he’s lost the ability to move his legs. I squat down as his brown eyes meet my molten red gaze.

He sobs. I lift my foot to deliver the final blow, but stop. In the corner of my eye I can see a pride of cats lurking.

“Did you kill any cats?”

“Big or small?” The man utters.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say.

I nod at the largest cat with sleek black fur and sapphire mane. It lowers its head acknowledging my respect. I turn and leave. As I do I hear the cats growl. Then the man’s sobs. Followed by a roar. Then a scream stifled by a cats canine no doubt. Finally the all too familiar squelching of flesh and the growl of cats tearing their meal to shreds.

The final assailant is mine.

I produce the orb from my pocket. I pull up the display of the prison and find a lonely red dot in the library.

I laugh.

Of all the places to hide.

My favorite place.

I take my time.

He’s not going anywhere.

I go to my confinement and place Little Crim in my bed. She’s exhausted and I can tell heart is heavy.

“Lot’s of new experiences today little miss. I promise tomorrow will be better.”

She falls asleep almost instantly.

It’s not very lady like to fight in a dress.

I take off my dress and drop it down a chute in my closet. I pull on a pair of black sweats, a tank top, and black canvas sneakers.

I watch the man on a screen projected by the orb. He’s hiding beneath a desk sniveling. Trying to call his captain, I supposed.

Too bad, I’ve already jammed any outgoing or incoming transmissions.

I enter the library whistling, letting him know I’ve arrived.

“I already called for backup,” he announces.

“Oh no,” I say feigning fear. I continue to advance towards him. Watching him through the orbs screen.

I can hear him bite back a sob and watch his lip tremble.

“Please lady,” he begs, “I’m sorry. We didn’t know anyone was here.”

“You didn’t even knock.”

“I’m sorry,” he cries as I approach.

“You killed my friend, my cats.”

He sobs hard and throws himself at my feet.

“You don’t understand,” he says, crying uncontrollably, “Please don’t kill me.”

“Give me one good reason,” I say lifting his chin with my index finger.

His eyes are blood shot from crying, his cheeks gaunt.

“They’re coming,” He says.

“Who?”

“The mortals.”

I can’t believe my ears.

“What?”

“We revealed ourselves to them. They found a way to kill us.”

I pull away from him and break his arm. He howls in pain.

“You’re saying you’re like me?”

“I was. The mortals have taken our time. We will die if we don’t have shelter.”

I back away from the man. My kind locked me away. Abandoned me. Forgot about me. I broke the second rule imposed by the ancients. They broke the first, “Keep hidden from those whose days are numbered.”

The man sobs at my feet. How far my kind has fallen. I look down on him. I don’t feel a thing.

I’ve had to pay for my crime.

So should they.

I lift my foot and crush his head beneath my heel. I spit on his body.

“I hate mortals. Old and new.”

I open the holographic layout of my prison. I pinch the hologram to zoom out in order to see the surrounding area. What was once a luscious forest was now covered in sand. A thousand red dots moved across the desert towards my home.

I scroll through a menu and find what I’m looking for.

A voice emanates from a speaker, “Proceeding with lockdown procedures.”

On the surface the announcement is made. The red dots race towards the opening the soldiers found. A heavy door falls in front of them, blocking them from the one place they would have been safe.

“Oh well.”

I proceed to my favorite chair near a simulation window. A book is waiting for me. What wonders shall I escape too this evening?

 

(End)