I have a challenge for you. I didn't know where else to put it, so I'm just posting it here. It's not a normal challenge. I wrote this some time ago, but never finished it. I don't even remember the original idea. So here's the challenge- finish it. Write a story that begins with this passage. I think it was intended to be a crossover, but I don't suppose it has to be. Do what you like with it, but please either email me with your response to the challenge, or email me and tell me where it is posted. I want to see what you people can make of this beginning, so start writing! … well, actually you'll have to read it first… ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel
2050- Seattle.
Transgenics are now barely even recognised as reality. The thing about people is that they overreact to things they are scared of, or don't understand, but in the aftermath of their reaction, they realise that their actions are worse than those that caused them. And then they can't deal. So they pretend it never happened, and it fades into mere memory, or myth.
Nearly thirty years ago, most of this city sided against transgenics, and allowed themselves to be lead along a path that would ultimately lead to their own destruction. They didn't know that at the time, of course, and they didn't figure it out until they had already murdered hundreds. They followed a man who claimed to be their deliverance, but instead turned them all into the monsters they feared. It was a long time before they realised that their only salvation was the people they'd been killing. Eventually, White's true colours were shown, and he was defeated. Not one of the people involved will ever be able to truly forget those times, but by god every one of them will try.
Now all you hear are the stories, passed down by the few who dare to tell them. No one knows exactly where the transgenics are, or how many are left; Most prefer not to. But I know they are around, probably just in society, passing by like everyone else, not acknowledged even when people do realise who they really are- no one wants to know. I know how it feels, to walk with the masses; talk like everyone else, live like everyone else, but to be different. I'm different even from transgenics- but at least they know why they are what they are. I don't. I wasn't cooked up in a government lab. I just am. Huh, and they think they're weird. They don't have a clue.
The girl stepped back from the edge, still starring out across the city from the highest point around. Then she turned, and descended the space needle like Max Guevara had done so many times, so many years ago. But the girl didn't know that. And she probably wouldn't have cared.
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OK? So get writing, and don't forget to email me, or just tell me where to find it through a review. I'll be waiting…
