Blurred Reality final copy
21 Jun 2004Final Copy – an Undisclosed Number of Words (target: 1000)
Assessment Task 1: Imaginative Composition
“Blurred Reality”
The fall into darkness was inevitable. For a cause lost in the depths of time past, a dark being came to hate the world and all within it. Seeking iconly death, he embarked on his mission of desolation. It was perhaps better for those on whom he was dependent for his un-life, that they were stripped of all consciousness and will as they fell under the curse of his ineluctable hunger.
Those subject to this desolate ruler came to enact like-minded (if such minds could exist) retribution upon others — and so the cycle continued, hundreds drawn under this curse. Fear of this decimation of any sense of self identity or existence, substituted with a perpetual, mindless repetition of the motions instigated by the first to fall was rational, although, it must be said, an immortality of nothing is worse than frail existence within which life may exist. This fear is not a conventional fear of suffering — but of nothing. Not of the unknown, simply emptiness.
The haunting sound of inevitability surpasses fruitless fears. For most, the world was slowly falling to the grasp of this lifeless dictator, however there was one, it was said, possessing the qualities to overpower this being, releasing the world from an age of bondage under an empty master.
—-
Karl Riley drifted in alternating states of consciousness. An alarm sounded loudly next to him, and he jerked upright, slamming a fist onto his mobile. Begrudgingly, he rolled, bringing himself upright. It was two A.M., and apparently he was needed immediately at work. Muttering something about overtime, he dressed and started driving to the support-centre, stopping only for a coffee from an all-night convenience store.
Returning to his car, the lights of the convenience store flickered before dying. Hearing the sales assistant swearing, Karl returned to his car in darkness. A cloaked figure moved along the street, towards him, making no attempt at concealment. He reached Karl’s car first, and stood, waiting at the door.
“Hello?” said Karl, somewhat hesitantly.
The figure stood motionless, his face in shadow.
“That’s my car. I need to go. It’s two-twenty on a Thursday morning, and I have ten minutes to get to work. What are you doing?”
Without speech, he moved aside, and continued walking along the road. Glancing cautiously, Karl unlocked his car, sat, and again locked the doors from the inside. Fumbling with his seatbelt, he looked up; his gaze locked upon two perspicacious, penetrating eyes of the figure he had seen moments before, fixated to the window of his car.
Tearing his gaze from this apparition, Karl turned the keys, gunned the engine, and tore off down an otherwise-deserted street. Shakily, he reached for the coffee.
“Wake up Karl, wake up,” he repeated over to himself. “Wake up, WAKE UP!”, he found himself shouting. Except it wasn’t his voice he heard shouting. It had come from behind him.
He leant his weight on the cars brake, and it shuddered to a halt in the middle of the street. His seatbelt caught him, and he turned to the back seat of the car, where the man sat. Indifferent to Karl’s driving, speaking in mocking tones – “Wake up, Karl. Wake up.” He ceased speaking, reaching a hand forwards to firmly grasp Karl’s shoulder.
His rancid breath permeated the car; Karl shuddered at his touch.
“Am I awake?” asked Karl, now uncertain of anything. The grip tightened, and Karl winced from the pain of it.
“Yes.”
“What is happening?”
“You are to be freed from awareness.”
He loosened his grip on Karl’s shoulder, reaching for his neck. His face moved closer, the breath becoming stronger, more repulsive. His mouth almost upon Karl’s throat, he saw the cross strung around his neck. Violently, he pulled away, breaking through the rear of the car and vanishing into darkness.
Skeptically, Karl glanced out the back window, wondering if he were awake.
“He broke my window.”
—-
Arriving thirty minutes late, covered in spilt coffee and broken glass, his supervisor, Lara, looked dubiously at Karl, but didn’t ask questions. “There’s a package on your desk” was all she said to him. A package? Delivered between 5:30 the previous night and now?
Somewhat intrigued, he opened it. A potent aroma filled the room as three pieces of garlic rolled from the package and onto his desk. A dagger followed. Staring as though offended by the presence of these things, they stoically remained through his blinks of disbelief.
Karl peered into the FedEx bag, finding a letter enclosed.
You are being watched. This package carries garlic that it may arrive unheeded. Tonight you have learnt of the forces of evil which remain hidden from society; these forces would not have you read this, would not have you to learn of them. You are the conclusion to a thousand years lechery at the hands of these… creatures. They are the un-dead, an accursed people, fallen to the evil one. It is said that there would be one who could crush this master, freeing thousands from his grasp, and saving humanity. This one is you. Enclosed with this letter is a dagger, forged from silver — this is the weapon with which you must destroy him, by piercing his heart. The attack on you was not imagined; your attacker must be destroyed.
“So, I’m to go around wielding a silver dagger which arrived in an anonymous bag, stabbing anyone who looks shady and wears black?”
The phone rang.
“Karl Riley” he answered.
“No.”
“Pardon?”
“No, you are not to go around stabbing anyone. The man who attacked you — you must destroy him.”
Karl looked at his phone. Caller ID showed an internal extension — 107. “How do…”
“Never mind. I can assure you, extension 107 does not exist,” the voice said, apparently getting louder, “but I do.”
The last words came not from a phone, but from Lara, behind Karl. She wasn’t holding a phone.
“Hello.”
“Umm… hi. How do you know all this?”
“There are many who are aware of this evil, but few empowered to act. Lara, whose body I occupy, knows nothing. She, like most of humanity, will never be aware of this darkness. You are elected to serve, burdened with knowledge. It is for you to act.”
With that, the figure of Lara flickered and disappeared into the air, leaving Karl sitting, at a loss.
—-
He returned to his apartment, with no word as to why he had been called into work. He imagined it were associated with other events of the night, although how, he didn’t know.
The new messages indicator flashed on his phone.
“You have… seven new messages.”
“Seven?!” he exclaimed, unbelieving.
The messages began playing.
“Hey Karl, what’s up? Phil here. You coming into work today? Gimme a buzz sometime.”
“Hi Karl, Chris calling… missed you today, everything alright?”
“Hey, it’s Steph. Where you been the past few days?”
“Karl, Lara here. Pick up the phone. Are you there? Karl? Where have you been the last week?”
There were three still to play, but Karl stopped the machine.
Cautiously, he checked the date on his watch.
“What…?” he began to speak.
The phone rang. He answered, and a voice began speaking — “I, the un-dead one whom you encountered one week ago, am coming to destroy you. Do not wonder of time, for soon immortality shall place you outside of such petty constraints.”
The line went dead. He placed down the phone and collapsed on the floor, his vision obscured by tears of confusion and desperation. A bird-like silhouette flickered past his window, casting a moonlit shadow around the figure of Karl. A voice, with no apparent origin, began to speak, chanting softly, enveloping him. No comprehensible words were spoken, but it was calming, soothing. A second voice was heard, at first quiet, but growing louder. This voice was violent, harsh. Formed words came in its speech, although Karl did not comprehend.
The first voice began to speak — he could not distinguish words, but understood. Commanded, he stood and walked. Blinded, shapes moved in his vision, as the two voices raged and fought. He felt himself being directed, moved towards the table where the envelope lay. Guided perfectly, he extracted the knife from the envelope.
The second voice shifted within his head; visions became darker, as though maddened by the presence of silver. A resonant scream engulfed his being, the knife seemingly cutting from the inside.
“RELEASE THE KNIFE”, a strangled yet forceful voice commanded, even in the midst of its agony. The desire of the soft, powerful first voice held Karl still. Remaining seemed unbearable, but releasing it? Karl grasped it feverishly, blood spilling from his hand, unable to bring himself to let it fall, trapped between pain and some other thing. The words of the letter drifted in his mind, as though through a thick fog.
…there would be one who could crush this master… you must destroy him, by piercing his heart…
His purpose clear, he drew the knife away from his body, only to bring it towards him, plunging it deep into his chest.
The voices ceased. Alone on the floor of his kitchen, fist tightly grasping cold metal, he was dying.
——-
Final submitted document was 27 pages in length, including two drafts, final copy, composition evaluation, and other working documents (including two printouts, one from email, the other from forums).
We shall see how it goes.