by ColdCorvid

Tags: #drones #horror #psychological_horror #scifi #solo

Mildly traumatic continuation of the CTRL series. Written by an unconscious mind about another unconscious mind

Alone. Spiraling. Isolated. Sinking. Abandoned.


All alone. Left with only yourself, your foreign body and absent memories. Left alone to contemplate, to question, quander, quest for that which you’d forgotten. Or had they taken? Had you had any at all. You didn’t even know if it could form them. If you could. When you could or if it was allowed to. All it knew was that memories existed and it remembered being alone.

Alone. Spiraling.

Spiraling down into the madness, into the dreams, flashes of vision, missing chunks of time days, hours, weeks, months, minutes, years it was unknown. Unknowable, impossible, improbable and yet the signs were there. Streaks along the padded walls. Streaks becoming pools, pools into puddles, puddles into lakes, lakes into an ocean of the viscous black fluid you waded through along the floors. It felt impossible to stand in despite the nearly nonexistent waves, the tiniest motion containing an impossible amount of force. Or perhaps it had forgotten how to stand. Either way it waded about, in and out of consciousness as the waters rose. Along your arms, up to your elbows, your sensitive chest, rising above it, pushing the air out of your lungs. Gasping as it pulled you down into the shallow darkness. Holding your breath as you were swallowed by the dense darkness that sprung forth from your innards. This ‘blood’ pulling you down, holding you, seemingly intent on drowning you in the viscous liquid. But, that wasn’t the case. You don’t remember drowning. It doesn’t remember panicking. It doesn’t remember the pools. Only the beautiful inky waves that had held it close for a while. It doesn’t know where they went. It misses the waves.

Alone. Spiraling. Isolated.

Isolated, suffocating loneliness, sinking dread. Fear. Fear of being left here in this strange place, this foreign world. Fear of being forgotten, to be left to rot for one reason or another or worst of all, left after becoming obsolete. Useless, not worth the effort nor the time. Ingrained in its head, your body aching, your soul seemingly alight along with your heart as its entire body seemed to spasm. Skin seeming to constrict around it as it slowly curled up along the cool, comfortable ground, crouching close to the callously stained floor. You had never felt more alone, more wanting, more suffocated by the absence of anything. It was terrified it had done wrong, that it had been silently shut off from the rest of everything in existence.

Alone. Spiraling. Isolated. Sinking.

Sinking, drowning, spurning forth from the seas while sucking in thick black liquid smoke that seemed to shift and shape in front of its eyes. Squeezing, squashing, sending spasms through its spine as it struggled for survival. Sucking in what seemed an endless expanse of strangely soft liquid that shaped itself however it pleased. You couldn’t fight back, could hardly see. Barely able to stay above the surface for moments within the seemingly endless suffering till your eyes fluttered. Suddenly shocked to feel the smooth, silken clad floor beneath it once again. Seemingly struggling to comprehend how such a surreal experience could be simulated by its simplistic mind. Wondering if anything so far had been more or less real.

Alone. Spiraling. Isolated. Sinking. Abandoned.

Abandoned, left for dead, alone. Once again, no matter how real it was. It was well and truly left to rot, left to its own devices in a cell where it had once found purpose, where it had once had a faint memory of joy, where it had been tended to. And yet here it lay. Trembling to the touch. Fluid leaking from its eyes. Body denying any order to move as it tried anything to justify continuing. To try and find a new purpose. But it couldn’t, couldn’t fathom anything but following orders. That comfortable guiding hand in the back of its head, creating and curating carefully crafted thoughts for it to claim as its own. And thats all you could ask for. All you wanted. All it needed now.


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