I asked for some random words on Twitter to write a story on, I was given Mellifluous, Hobbledehoy and fallopian. Also "the light that burns twice as bright burns only half as long AND less talk more rock",which was damn near impossible to put in there, so thanks Twitter dudes.
This isn't so much a story as a collection of sentences I wrote and didn't stop writing until I finished.
No one saw it happen. The San Pantena Genetics Centre had been abandoned for decades and the equipment inside just churned and bubbled away, forgotten by everyone except the guards, one of whom would stop by once every blue moon to see that the site was still as deserted as was expected from it.
Except it wasn’t. Not this night.
Gary Henderson, the well-to-do guard, often discarded by many people simply for his normality and everydayness, heard it happen, but he never saw what exactly. He was patrolling the car park in front of the Reception Annex - the only entrance into the lab – when he heard the siren. No one had gone past him, he was sure of it. The only sight his dim eyes could afford him as he squinted into the distance at the place where, instead of the billowing heaps of smoke currently occupying the area, the Fertilisation Labs had once been, was a glaring orange light, spinning around. An alarm.
He weighed his options. He did not have any real weaponry outside of a short range taser that frequently missed its target, but being well-to-do and blandly nondescript, the only talking point about his life was the inherent danger of walking around at night in a deserted area with a flashlight. If he bailed, then what was he?
A part of his brain sparked. Gary Henderson, night-shift guard of the San Pantena Genetics Centre on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays, ran towards the alarm.
The smoke was clearing by the time he arrived. The laboratories, which had been designed into two tubes running parallel to one another, were all but gone. Only discoloured rubble and (probably toxic) smoke remained. And a figure.
He was young, appeared to be only a few years out of adolescence, and he hobbled and staggered, as if both stunned by the destruction around him, and like he was learning to walk for the first time.
He was naked. Gary Henderson blushed and tried to keep a serious disposition.
“The lab. It shouldn’t be here,” the man said. His voice was sweet, high-pitched and almost melodious. It sounded heavenly, and Gary Henderson found it surprisingly soothing, considering everything. He walked awkward and clumsily, hitting pieces of rubble as his pale, ghostlike form slowly approached the guard.
“It had to go…”
Gary Henderson saw his eyes. They were a pale blue, with pupils that were almost grey. They sparkled in the mess of half-broken lights from the compound; the scene, for some bizarre reason, reminded the guard of an ice show he had once seen.
He wanted to say something, but he kept failing in his choice of words. He noticed the holes in the man’s arms. Small, perfect, and all in a row, they looked like cable sockets or something. Gary Henderson did not know what they were, who that man was or what was happening. He probably had to call someone, but at this point, he was too entranced by it all to do anything.
“I am One. And only One,” the man continued, in his perfect, beautiful voice. “Had to go. The light that shines”
The guard reached for his walkie-talkie, but as he put it to his mouth, he stopped. The wind had caught the smoke and it swirled around him. Through it he could see the figure, who had walked past Gary Henderson, staring at nothing in particular in front of him.
And soon, somewhere in the darkness, out of the sirens and the white spotlights of the abandoned complex, the man disappeared. There was nothing but silence, and rubble. A light nearby lit up, incredibly bright, before exploding into blackness.
Gary Henderson held on to his walkie-talkie in silence, his eyes adjusting to the light, and after several minutes of stillness, called in people to assess the wreckage.