-Chapter 6-
It was ten minutes later and still the strings would not release me. They gripped me tightly, bound me to sit on the edge of my bed and face myself in the illusion of a mirror. They made my fingers twitch. I closed my eyes, so that I might not see myself in the mirror and hopefully not be forced to find an answer.
What difference does it make why I called him Shinji-kun? I asked the puppet master. Does it really matter? Does it change something for you? Do you need to rewrite the script?
I stood up against the will of the strings. I searched for something to do. The clear plastic bag laid slumped against the wall. I gently picked it up and gingerly peered inside at all the garbage of my life, remnants of forgotten life. I took the bag and began to fill it with my past.
As I picked through my history, I found a foreign box lying in shadows. It laid quietly in the dark corner, covered by a thick layer of dust and cowering behind cloudy spider webs. I bent down and stretched out my pale fingers and gently picked up the fragile box as though it were some beautifully sculpted insect of ice that might melt at my touch and warm breath. I rotated it slowly in my hands and my fingers nudged a small "z" shaped handle.
As I carefully wound the handle around, a tinny music escaped from the box. Suddenly the top lid flapped open and a dark figure arose from the twilight filled box, bursting forth and stretching its floppy hands towards the light.
I was startled by this sudden intrusion that I nearly dropped the strange figurine as I leapt back. I regained my composure quickly and stared inquisitively at the odd form that laid folded over the edge of the box.
It was like a human, but distorted, almost grotesque. Its painted face was a comic mask of terror. Blue eyes, limp cone hat, bright red lips, and a matching button nose. The figure swayed with every movement of my hand.
"And how long have you waited, alone in darkness, to be free?" I asked it. The gritty dust coated my hand. "Much too long, I see."
I set the figure on the dresser, between a pair of cracked glasses and an empty drinking glass. I didn't push the figure back into the box, but let it dance in the moonlight. It watched me, still smiling, as I crawled beneath the rumpled covers of my bed and laid my head upon the pillow. It watched me as I slept.
I stood amid a field of flowers. A lone tree guarded a small hill. It had the shape of a young boy, and the wind whispered through its dark green leaves, beckoning me. As I approached, it held out its branches as if to hold me. I reached out to touch one of its branches, but it shrunk back. The wind began to scream, tearing leaves and bark from the tree. I heard the tree howl in pain and its limbs became dark, gnarled, and twisted. The trunk began to warp and stretch. In the contours of the trunk, I saw a face a moment before another blast of wind shot through the tree, causing it to explode in a shower of ashes.
Around me a long mournful cry filled my ears. I saw the flowers raise up their leaves as if in prayer. Their petals were blue and they framed the pistils like shortly cut hair. In the center of each plant were two red stamens. They were like Angel cores, like eyes. They shook and swayed uncontrollably in the wind and then ignited into flames. I felt their tortured cries lash against my soul as they melted into the earth.
The ground beneath me quivered and I saw two great mountains erupt from the earth. They were red and shaped like interface modules. From somewhere within their confines, a bright red liquid spewed out. The magma spread over the land like a shock of red hair. Suddenly the ground I stood on opened as the earth laughed.
As I slipped away into the darkness, I looked up at the sky and saw twin suns. They were yellow and shone like the surface of glasses, hiding behind them the eyes of a dark, vengeful, and calculating god.
Commander.
I opened my eyes and felt them tear up as the murky, yellow liquid that surrounded me invaded them. No light from the outside could be seen. It was four thirty in the morning and a terror hung above my head. I was in the cold, underground vault of Central Dogma, locked within a sealed glass tomb. Through my blurred vision, I could make out the shape of Doctor Ritsuko and Commander. A heard the humming of computers connected to the testing chamber through the glass, making my very bones vibrate. I blinked my eyes fiercely and my vision began to clear.
Commander stood with a prideful stance, legs apart, hands clasped behind his back. The smallest hint of a smile could be detected at the corners of his mouth. He had a smug look upon his face as though at any moment he might stroke his scratchy looking beard in mock intellectualism. Commander didn't sport a mustache, but dark colored hair framed his face.
I did not like the look Commander wore upon his face. It was as though he was not looking at me but at some distant future that was almost upon us. He looked at me as though he was plotting something. Something that perhaps didn't directly involved me, but maybe a future product of myself.
Behind him stood the Doctor. Beneath the light curls of her blond hair were darkened spheres that held within them the icy glazed surface of a tundra and the harsh look of an arid desert sun. She blinked her eyes and a dry wind swept across the barren world of her face.
A thin sheet of glass was all that separated me from their dark world. Within the glass tube I was imprisoned in were six lights that were set beneath the foggy liquid in a circle. They were all focused on me. On the other side, Commander and Doctor Ritsuko stared intently at me as though they were reassuring themselves that the strings they had fastened to me were still strong and in place.
Commander glanced at the small monitor with wires and plugs attached to my prison and smiled. With a satisfied nod of his head, Commander turned his attention back to me.
"How are you feeling, Rei?"
"Fine, Sir."
"Good. We are finished here. Wash up and return to school."
"Yes, Sir."
Commander turned and strolled out of the room, hands in his pocket. He was whistling something, a tune I had heard no more than two days ago. I didn't hear him whistle the whole song for the automated doors closed behind him and locked out his voice, but I knew what song it was and why he whistled it. He meant it as a warning. He wanted me to know that he knew, and to not go any further for it will jeopardize his plans and the consequences will be dire.
It was ten minutes later and still the strings would not release me. They gripped me tightly, bound me to sit on the edge of my bed and face myself in the illusion of a mirror. They made my fingers twitch. I closed my eyes, so that I might not see myself in the mirror and hopefully not be forced to find an answer.
What difference does it make why I called him Shinji-kun? I asked the puppet master. Does it really matter? Does it change something for you? Do you need to rewrite the script?
I stood up against the will of the strings. I searched for something to do. The clear plastic bag laid slumped against the wall. I gently picked it up and gingerly peered inside at all the garbage of my life, remnants of forgotten life. I took the bag and began to fill it with my past.
As I picked through my history, I found a foreign box lying in shadows. It laid quietly in the dark corner, covered by a thick layer of dust and cowering behind cloudy spider webs. I bent down and stretched out my pale fingers and gently picked up the fragile box as though it were some beautifully sculpted insect of ice that might melt at my touch and warm breath. I rotated it slowly in my hands and my fingers nudged a small "z" shaped handle.
As I carefully wound the handle around, a tinny music escaped from the box. Suddenly the top lid flapped open and a dark figure arose from the twilight filled box, bursting forth and stretching its floppy hands towards the light.
I was startled by this sudden intrusion that I nearly dropped the strange figurine as I leapt back. I regained my composure quickly and stared inquisitively at the odd form that laid folded over the edge of the box.
It was like a human, but distorted, almost grotesque. Its painted face was a comic mask of terror. Blue eyes, limp cone hat, bright red lips, and a matching button nose. The figure swayed with every movement of my hand.
"And how long have you waited, alone in darkness, to be free?" I asked it. The gritty dust coated my hand. "Much too long, I see."
I set the figure on the dresser, between a pair of cracked glasses and an empty drinking glass. I didn't push the figure back into the box, but let it dance in the moonlight. It watched me, still smiling, as I crawled beneath the rumpled covers of my bed and laid my head upon the pillow. It watched me as I slept.
I stood amid a field of flowers. A lone tree guarded a small hill. It had the shape of a young boy, and the wind whispered through its dark green leaves, beckoning me. As I approached, it held out its branches as if to hold me. I reached out to touch one of its branches, but it shrunk back. The wind began to scream, tearing leaves and bark from the tree. I heard the tree howl in pain and its limbs became dark, gnarled, and twisted. The trunk began to warp and stretch. In the contours of the trunk, I saw a face a moment before another blast of wind shot through the tree, causing it to explode in a shower of ashes.
Around me a long mournful cry filled my ears. I saw the flowers raise up their leaves as if in prayer. Their petals were blue and they framed the pistils like shortly cut hair. In the center of each plant were two red stamens. They were like Angel cores, like eyes. They shook and swayed uncontrollably in the wind and then ignited into flames. I felt their tortured cries lash against my soul as they melted into the earth.
The ground beneath me quivered and I saw two great mountains erupt from the earth. They were red and shaped like interface modules. From somewhere within their confines, a bright red liquid spewed out. The magma spread over the land like a shock of red hair. Suddenly the ground I stood on opened as the earth laughed.
As I slipped away into the darkness, I looked up at the sky and saw twin suns. They were yellow and shone like the surface of glasses, hiding behind them the eyes of a dark, vengeful, and calculating god.
Commander.
I opened my eyes and felt them tear up as the murky, yellow liquid that surrounded me invaded them. No light from the outside could be seen. It was four thirty in the morning and a terror hung above my head. I was in the cold, underground vault of Central Dogma, locked within a sealed glass tomb. Through my blurred vision, I could make out the shape of Doctor Ritsuko and Commander. A heard the humming of computers connected to the testing chamber through the glass, making my very bones vibrate. I blinked my eyes fiercely and my vision began to clear.
Commander stood with a prideful stance, legs apart, hands clasped behind his back. The smallest hint of a smile could be detected at the corners of his mouth. He had a smug look upon his face as though at any moment he might stroke his scratchy looking beard in mock intellectualism. Commander didn't sport a mustache, but dark colored hair framed his face.
I did not like the look Commander wore upon his face. It was as though he was not looking at me but at some distant future that was almost upon us. He looked at me as though he was plotting something. Something that perhaps didn't directly involved me, but maybe a future product of myself.
Behind him stood the Doctor. Beneath the light curls of her blond hair were darkened spheres that held within them the icy glazed surface of a tundra and the harsh look of an arid desert sun. She blinked her eyes and a dry wind swept across the barren world of her face.
A thin sheet of glass was all that separated me from their dark world. Within the glass tube I was imprisoned in were six lights that were set beneath the foggy liquid in a circle. They were all focused on me. On the other side, Commander and Doctor Ritsuko stared intently at me as though they were reassuring themselves that the strings they had fastened to me were still strong and in place.
Commander glanced at the small monitor with wires and plugs attached to my prison and smiled. With a satisfied nod of his head, Commander turned his attention back to me.
"How are you feeling, Rei?"
"Fine, Sir."
"Good. We are finished here. Wash up and return to school."
"Yes, Sir."
Commander turned and strolled out of the room, hands in his pocket. He was whistling something, a tune I had heard no more than two days ago. I didn't hear him whistle the whole song for the automated doors closed behind him and locked out his voice, but I knew what song it was and why he whistled it. He meant it as a warning. He wanted me to know that he knew, and to not go any further for it will jeopardize his plans and the consequences will be dire.