Dings
Lord of Altera
@Rosary_Omen said i should post it so here's whatever this is.
It was just a regular day. People coming and going, trains passing, commuting in the big city. Nobody, not even those bigwigs on Wall Street with their fancy computers could have predicted that the sirens were going off late that day. Then everything came to a grinding halt. The whole city was painted yellow, the large TV in the center of the roundabout displaying a bright, chipper "Caution" sign instead of the afternoon broadcast and time. It was if our little corner of the world was holding its breath, disbelief engulfed us and as sheep are herded into their pens we were lead on the path that'd lead us to our TRUE destiny.
Imagine: I, a simple park ranger, tending to the fences bordering the edges of our fair city and the encroaching wilderness around, frozen in place at the distant sound of the siren filtering through those crackly campground speakers. As if bewitched by an ancient, lovecraftian chant, everyone unanimously got out of their cars, left their homes, their jobs, their responsibilities behind to shuffle mindlessly into the one place we were ordered to go only when the sirens sounded: The Facility.
It was huge; A complex able to house the entirety of the population and then some, grey building after grey building welcomed us as we strode past the electric fences, up to what appeared to be a line of ticket counters. Hundreds of people in front of me, thousands behind. They drag their feet wordlessly as the ones in front take their ticket, being ushered inside the grey buildings by men in lab coats. Me, though... I wake up. I stop, holding up the line of zombies behind right before the ticket machines. I turn to my right, my left, pleading with someone to tell me exactly what was going on, but they don't even look at me, either ignoring my presence outright or not even realizing i'm there. The men in lab coats stare daggers into me and i'm pressured forward, taking my ticket slowly and with acid building up in my throat.
Barn owl.
"..What's this supposed to mean?!" I wave my ticket angrily, sputtering my disbelief and frustration as i'm roughly tugged from the line by the men in lab coats, struggling to keep me from breaking free.
"What is this, damnit?! I demand to know if i'm to go ANYWHERE, no, ONE MORE STEP with the likes of you people!" My pleas fell on deaf ears, struggling muffled by their white as snow coats that seemed to dampen the reality of the situation. Was I ever going to see my precious family again..? My job, my forest, my camp grounds... These images flashed before my eyes as I was led into a chair, strapped down and detained against my will by these men.
They quickly left the room, going behind what i could only ascertain was a two way mirror as the speakers in the room sounded with a loud but oddly comforting woman's voice, announcing for the 'operation' to begin. I pull, i struggle, i even swear a few times before it hits me. I can barely remember even now what it was, it was only the memory of the pain that i can recall: a blinding, gut-wrenching, agonizing pain that made me scream louder and with more force than a child having a fit. All i remember is the pain before the world went dark.
I awaken some odd hours later in a wheelchair, staring at the beige walls of a completely empty auditorium, a colorful banner hanging above informing me that i was free to leave. I muster my strength once the dizziness and nausea subsides, gripping the sides of the wheelchair to pull me back into reality when.. I feel something, soft and downy. My feet, my face, every inch of me feels as though it was covered in tar and feathers, nothing feels right.
I look down at myself and see that i no longer have feet. Where there were once pads and toenails there are claws and talons, my ankles being hidden behind indigo feathers that stretch up all the way to my neck and down my arms. I open my mouth and there are no lips there anymore, there is a beak. I shake, all of me poofing up as i go to scream, only to hear myself utter an owl's screech.
Barn owl. I was an anthromorphic, human-sized owl covered in white and indigo blue plumage.
My true destiny was to become an owl.
And somehow, I've been happy with this.
It was just a regular day. People coming and going, trains passing, commuting in the big city. Nobody, not even those bigwigs on Wall Street with their fancy computers could have predicted that the sirens were going off late that day. Then everything came to a grinding halt. The whole city was painted yellow, the large TV in the center of the roundabout displaying a bright, chipper "Caution" sign instead of the afternoon broadcast and time. It was if our little corner of the world was holding its breath, disbelief engulfed us and as sheep are herded into their pens we were lead on the path that'd lead us to our TRUE destiny.
Imagine: I, a simple park ranger, tending to the fences bordering the edges of our fair city and the encroaching wilderness around, frozen in place at the distant sound of the siren filtering through those crackly campground speakers. As if bewitched by an ancient, lovecraftian chant, everyone unanimously got out of their cars, left their homes, their jobs, their responsibilities behind to shuffle mindlessly into the one place we were ordered to go only when the sirens sounded: The Facility.
It was huge; A complex able to house the entirety of the population and then some, grey building after grey building welcomed us as we strode past the electric fences, up to what appeared to be a line of ticket counters. Hundreds of people in front of me, thousands behind. They drag their feet wordlessly as the ones in front take their ticket, being ushered inside the grey buildings by men in lab coats. Me, though... I wake up. I stop, holding up the line of zombies behind right before the ticket machines. I turn to my right, my left, pleading with someone to tell me exactly what was going on, but they don't even look at me, either ignoring my presence outright or not even realizing i'm there. The men in lab coats stare daggers into me and i'm pressured forward, taking my ticket slowly and with acid building up in my throat.
Barn owl.
"..What's this supposed to mean?!" I wave my ticket angrily, sputtering my disbelief and frustration as i'm roughly tugged from the line by the men in lab coats, struggling to keep me from breaking free.
"What is this, damnit?! I demand to know if i'm to go ANYWHERE, no, ONE MORE STEP with the likes of you people!" My pleas fell on deaf ears, struggling muffled by their white as snow coats that seemed to dampen the reality of the situation. Was I ever going to see my precious family again..? My job, my forest, my camp grounds... These images flashed before my eyes as I was led into a chair, strapped down and detained against my will by these men.
They quickly left the room, going behind what i could only ascertain was a two way mirror as the speakers in the room sounded with a loud but oddly comforting woman's voice, announcing for the 'operation' to begin. I pull, i struggle, i even swear a few times before it hits me. I can barely remember even now what it was, it was only the memory of the pain that i can recall: a blinding, gut-wrenching, agonizing pain that made me scream louder and with more force than a child having a fit. All i remember is the pain before the world went dark.
I awaken some odd hours later in a wheelchair, staring at the beige walls of a completely empty auditorium, a colorful banner hanging above informing me that i was free to leave. I muster my strength once the dizziness and nausea subsides, gripping the sides of the wheelchair to pull me back into reality when.. I feel something, soft and downy. My feet, my face, every inch of me feels as though it was covered in tar and feathers, nothing feels right.
I look down at myself and see that i no longer have feet. Where there were once pads and toenails there are claws and talons, my ankles being hidden behind indigo feathers that stretch up all the way to my neck and down my arms. I open my mouth and there are no lips there anymore, there is a beak. I shake, all of me poofing up as i go to scream, only to hear myself utter an owl's screech.
Barn owl. I was an anthromorphic, human-sized owl covered in white and indigo blue plumage.
My true destiny was to become an owl.
And somehow, I've been happy with this.
