MCD – Abandoned Factory 1

Just finished editing what I wrote last night; very glad I waited as it was a mess.  Just as I did with my Pine Bluff short, I’m going to extend this story a little.  I won’t insult anyone this time by claiming that it’ll likely be “only 1200-1500 words!”  I’ve learned my lesson.  It will be what it will be.

Although I’m calling this Part One, the real start is here; I’ll edit that post and call it ‘Part 0.’

I’m honestly curious as to where this one will go!


Her eyes flew open to see her right arm out with her hand open, palm up.


She allowed her arm to fall slowly to near her side.

Where am I?

A pale off white in all direxions and she was apparently floating, as her feet rested on nothing.

Wait… who am I?

Her hands came up again. She spared them only a glance before pressing them to her face. Smooth skin, tiny nose, epicanthic folds… am I Oriental? Reaching back, her hair was just past her shoulders. With her left hand she pulled some around where she could see it.

Dark brown. Almost black. Letting go, it didn’t fall but drifted back into place. Floating.

A look down confirmed that she’d been correct in thinking of herself as a girl: no clothes. She tried a paddling motion to turn herself about. Nothing.

Well… something. She turned again, slower, stopping at the area that seemed just a little lighter than the rest of… wherever she was.

She was neither cold nor hot. Right now, at least, she was not hungry nor thirsty.

“And I’m more bored than scared,” she spoke, startling herself.

Her words sounded odd to her ears, muffled. Was she really floating? How was she breathing?

How do I know I breathe air? That I’m supposed to live on the land?

“Hello?” She tried. Nothing.

With a small sigh, she let her eyes close.

Time seemed to pass slowly…

“Ugh! Gaah!”

She convulsed awake, doubled over with her arms around her gut. She’d dreamed… dreamed…

“Whatever it was, that was awful!” She mumbled, looking about for the lighter patch.

She looked more, turning about, and, she was pretty sure, turning herself over a few times.

“W- where…?” She didn’t think she was afraid, be she was concerned.

I want my light back!

She forced herself to stillness, taking several deep breaths of whatever it was. She moved.

Not recalling ever swimming she did what an observer would have called a dog-paddle. Time passed. She seemed to be getting nowhere.

Concern was degenerating into fear. She began to paddle more forcefully with her hands, clawing forward at nothing.




My light!

“Help me…!”

The fingers of her right hand scraped into some fibrous, leathery material. A moment later the rest of her body landed on it.

An animal-like growl escaped her mouth as she tore at the surface with her hands and feet. After tearing maybe four inches, her right arm pushed its way out into the air, the fluid pouring out of the hole. She set about widening the hole.

The tear was now nearly eighteen inches long. Lips pulled back in a grin of triumph, she put her hands on each side of the tear and pushed outward…!

The side of the cocoon gave way completely. She bodysurfed out with the last of the fluid, coming to rest no more than ten feet away…

Feet. There were two feet in worn leather shoes inches before her eyes. She lifted her head from the cold tile. Slacks. A young man sitting on a reversed chair, looking down at her with a tiny smile. Greek, by his looks, she thought. She pushed herself up, caring nothing about her nakedness. Two things suddenly arrested her movement.

The first was that he was smoking a cigarette. That’s not healthy!

There was a mumble from her left. The guy in front her mumbled, too.

She shook her head violently to get the fluid out of her ears. Her eyes looked left. Another young man, closer to her age. But just like the first…

They both had small, grey wings and a gold halo.

She opened her mouth to speak, but first coughed for half a minute to clear her lungs. No one moved to help her. She drew her legs under her, still crouching on the tiles, and spared a glance at her back.

No wings.

“Where I am?” She managed. “Am I… dead?”

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