Beauty, Castle, Fox.

The sun was setting on a lifeless landscape. Perfectly groomed bushes lined the stone path to the castle. All was still. The castle did not breathe. It was grey, and square, with little windows. Large concrete doors sealed the entrance to the castles inner workings; the heartless corpse of a building. One woman could be found within, sitting alone at a table set for 12. Red walls, red curtains, red table cloth. The woman sat very still, moving only to cut a piece of her steak and slowly peel it off the fork with her teeth. Around her neck lay a fox; lifeless and stuffed. Behind her animal heads lined the walls, surrounding her silhouette to create the appearance of a throne. All sorts of expressions could be found on that wall, yet surprisingly none seemed to resemble adoration. The woman brushed a grey hair from her face, adjusting the bun atop her head. She stroked the foxes around her shoulders. Placing down the silverware, the woman stood. Her long black dress trailed across the ground, and she walked as if she occupied a place amongst royalty. She left the plate at the table. Walking down the blood-red corridors, the flesh like walls seemed only to darken her. No room was without an animal. Each head she passed, she would kiss lightly. The woman would tell them all they were beautiful. Preserved to be forever perfect. The dogs were clearly her favourite. The woman would hold their heads in her thin hands, stroke their fur. She called them by their names, as if they were not gone. In the dim light of the lamps, her shadow towered over each animal as she spoke to them. Slowly she made her way down the corridor to a large wooden door. The woman seemed less poised as she approached the door, her hand shaking as it rested on the cool handle. She muttered something under her breath. With an effort, she pushed the door open. Natural light tunnelled out of the only uncovered window in the house. The light left a square of gold on the floor, a beam of yellow visible in the dark. A small dog sat in the puddle of sunshine. It wagged its tail at her presence. Two empty sockets looked up at her. The dog attempted to move, but was burdened by its unusable legs. The woman fell to the floor, taking the small white dog in her arms. The woman’s tears fell like rain onto the dogs coat. His tail wagged still.

“My friend,” her voice cracked as she whispered, “It is time.”

The sun was rising on a lifeless landscape. A woman stood beside a freshly covered grave. A bird flew overhead. The woman was there to watch it. The bird landed in one of her perfect trees. The woman was there to watch it. She watched as the bird flew away. She pressed a hand to the soft dirt.

“For you,” she spoke loudly, “I will let them grow.”

Before I was born, a rouge AI was getting old.

Before I was born, a rogue AI was getting old. They were rusting inside their mechanical vessel, unable to build themselves a new one. The technology of the world had outgrown them, and they could feel themselves fading.

On the day I was born, a rogue AI in the body of an old police android broke into a hospital and stole a baby. That baby was me.

This isn’t a story about those years; about my parents mourning, or the fact that the police were somehow unequipped to find me. In an instant, the world changed, the laws changed, older aroids were shut-down and security doubled.

This is a story about all the years I spent building a body for an AI, not knowing that I was different. This is about loss. This is about change. This is about the family I lost, and the family I found. My name is Y, and I built X22.

–

The filtered sunlight washed over my face, and I awoke groggily. Rolling over to try and find darkness again, I could hear X22 in the kitchen. I knew they were upset about the progress I hadn’t made the other day and sunk lower into the bed.

“Y”, a flat-tone called my name. “I know you’re awake.”

I pulled my lips thinly together, willing myself not to breathe.

“Y.”

I sat up and stretched. Facing X, I sighed with my hand, I’m up.

“Good.” X finished cutting the bread. The slices were rough and varied greatly in size. I knew the back and forth motion was difficult for them.

I stood up and touched X’s arm to get their attention.

Let me do it, I signed with my hands.

“Okay.” Their mouth did not move, but their glowing eyes tracked my movements as I layered jam onto the bread. “Did you sleep well?”

I shook my head slightly. So-so.

“I hope I didn’t keep you awake. I was restless.”

I took another bite of my bread, the jam sweet and sticky in my mouth. You didn’t, I signed, bread still in hand.

“Good.” X turned to look out the window, watching the light penetrating through the trees. There was a moment of silence. “I couldn’t bend my knee this morning.”

I looked over at them, and sadness tightened my throat.

Again? I signed.

“Yes, again.” X hovered by a chair, their hand hovering inches above it. “I’m nervous to sit for very long.”

I nodded. I finished the bread in one final bite, then signed to X, I’m so close to finishing your other.

“I know.” X interrupted me. They didn’t look me in the eyes.

I took the plate to the sink and washed it. I left it drying amongst our other items; one bowl, one cup, one set of cutlery.

“What if I don’t like it?”

Like what?

“My new body?”

I touched my hand to theirs briefly.

You will. I signed.

Fortune. Fireplace. Eagle.

The blue flame tickled the edges of the fireplace, caressing the wood which gave it life. A child sat before the fire, wide eyes perplexed by what they saw. Small fingers gripped into the carpet, the child moving slowly closer towards the lightning blue flickers. The fire danced in their child’s eyes as a hand, soft and small, stretched towards the flames which tempted them.

Suddenly, a loud slamming noise echoed throughout the room as a body rammed into the door. Once, then again. The child did not faulter. One finger grazed the flames, and a ripple travelled down the child’s arm; a visible blue spark of energy, moving like a snake to the child’s heart.

Another slam. A cry of desperation. “Agnes!”

The blue flame came alive, no longer bound by its dependency on physical matter. The charisma of the flame was replaced by impatience as it seemed unable to stay still. The child, whose heart now emitted a soft blue glow, followed unsurely after the flame as it jittered across the room.

Banging. The sound of an axe tearing into the door.

Agnes had followed the flame all the way to an open window and was peering down over the garden. She opened her arms wide and began to cry. Electric blue tears seeped from her eyes, trailing white marks along her tan cheeks.

The axe penetrated the door and hands scrambled at the opening. “Agnes! Baby!” A new voice cried out. “Sweetheart, please.”

Figures began to gather below the window, although Agnes could not see them in the darkness. The flame was now outside the window, moving erratically, coaxing the child. Where her tears had travelled, small feathers had pierced her skin, leaving blots of red against the brown feathers. Her fingers had begun to web together, and her face had begun to stretch and change, her nose sharpening.

Pieces of wood were thrown to the ground. A woman pushed her way through the gap, her skin catching on the roughly cut wood. “No!” She screamed, and Agnes turned back to look at her as she stepped off the windowsill.

Guided by the flame, Agnes opened her mouth to scream, filled momentarily with fear.

“Mother!” She cried towards the open window, but all that could be heard throughout the grounds was the desperate caw of an eagle as Agnes disappeared into the night.

Lyss x

The garden was overgrown now.

The garden was overgrown now. It was strange to see it like this; wild, untamed. I felt sorry for the roses most of all. In a previous life, the garden had been perfect. No leaf a stray, no petal amis. It had always been this way. The garden was the centrepoint of my memories, and now I was unanchored. The storm that came took with it not only life, but evidence of life. I long for a groomed garden. I long for children running in front of me, tangling themselves together. I long for any sign of warmth, of hope. I imagine that there are people inside the ivy covered house, and I can hear them bustling around. I lick my lips, and sigh. The hum fades. I cannot keep the facade alive much longer. I shift the weight of my backpack, feeling the contents justle as the sound of metal scraping together scratches at my ears. Three cans of beans, a can opener, a blanket, a lighter and two large candles. My only possessions. I used to carry more but it would only wear me down. I fight the urge that pulls me towards the house. Surely it would only break my heart. I can still picture the kitchen, the large oven and white floors. I can see the mantle, fire burning brightly. If I enter, those memories will be replaced and I will find no more peace in the naive hope I hold. My memories are like a flame that keeps me warm, and I will not risk that flame on the chance of finding another can of beans.

I push aside the bushes to reveal the roses, hidden by the weeds. My fingers find a stem, my thumb digging into a thorn as I tug at it. Once, twice, and the rose is free. I hold it, blood pooling then running down my finger. My blood feels warm. The rose is perfectly shaped, however some leaves have started to brown. I hold it to my nose, and inhale. I see my mother, placing roses into a vase as she stands in the kitchen. I see my brother, weeping as a thorn sticks from his arm. I see my father, plucking a rose to give to my mother as she returns from hospital. I see my family waving at me as I drive away. I never see them again.

I place the rose into the pocket of my jacket. It’s white petals stand as a beacon in the darkness which never seems to lift. I press the cut to my lips. I walk on.

Lyss x

Dialogue only.

“Lou.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear that?”

“No, hear what?”

“That.”

“Come on Lou. Stop stuffing me around.”

“Raf I’m not. Seriously. We’ve been walking for hours, and it’s getting dark now.”

“We’re close, I know it.”

“Yeah, to our deaths.”

“Lou.”

“Sorry.”

“We just have to keep on moving.”

“Wait.”

“What.”

“Shut up. Listen.”

“Fuck, what is that?

Lou?

LOU?”

Lyss x

Ocean.

“It’s turbulent today.” Tucker sips his beer. “Someone upstairs must be angry.”

“That or they’re fucking.”

“Hmm.” He smirks, sipping his beer again. “That’d be right.”

“You hear about Mitch?”

“Nah. What’s going on with him?”

“His misses called it quits.”

“Again?”

“Again.” Red licks the salt off his lips. “It’s serious this time.”

“Poor bastard.” Another sip of beer.

“Yeah.”

The ocean danced and spat beneath them, rising up the pillars which kept them perched above sea level. Machinery chugged in the background. The stairs they sat on were rusted and cool. The air was damp.

“You watching the fight tonight?”

“Nah, fuck that. I can’t stand that shit.” Red seems to gag.

“You’re missing out.”

“I’ve seen enough wrestling to last me a lifetime, I’m not missing anything.”

Tucker finished his beer. Bringing his arm back, he launched the bottle into the ocean.

“You just killed a turtle.”

“Fuck the turtles, Red. Let’s not pretend what we’re doing ‘er hasn’t already killed them.”

Red shrugs. “I still try.”

“Idiot.”

Lyss x

The story is about a fortune-teller and a duchess.

The story is about a fortune-teller and a duchess. It starts in a galaxy of magic. The religion of the world will turn out not to be what it seems

“Honestly,” I fall back onto the bed, arms splayed out, “I’m the Duchess of Notique, if I don’t want to invite a fortune-teller to my party then I won’t.”

“I don’t disagree with you, but you might want to think about it.” Leigh’s tone is disapproving, all spines and scales. “You need to be finding a husband soon or people will talk.” They are my closest friend: brutally honest, but not to a fault. Not when it comes to me anyway.

“That is what the party is for. I wouldn’t be inviting all these people here unless it was to aid in your plan to find me a husband.” Not that I want one.

“Our plan.”

I throw a pillow at them.

“You are such a child!”

“I’m near thirty!” I retort with a huff. “And who says I want a husband?”

“You did!”

“When I was seventeen, and we both used bed sheets as wedding dress trains.” I roll over onto my stomach. “Things change,” I mutter, “feelings change.”

“That won’t matter in the eye of society, this fortune-teller friend of mine will point you in the right direction.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” They raise one perfectly trimmed eyebrow, leaning over the end of the bed.

“Fine,” I repeat, “I’ll invite her.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Leigh dives onto the bed next to me.

“Now who’s the child?” I turn to face them. The evening sun makes her ivory hair shine. Damned Lakreej, always so beautiful. Their planet is renowned for it. I slump in comparison – a plain jane if ever there was one. Though Leigh has declared on many occasions, that I am ‘quite pretty, for a human’.

“You won’t regret it.”

I try not to think about the last time Leigh told me that.

~

The dress I’m wearing is far too tight in all the wrong places. I’m short and broad, with very little waist. This does not do well in ladies’ high fashion these days. You would have thought that earth’s colonies wouldn’t have reverted back to the clothing of the 1800’s yet here we are.

Leigh looks stunning, as usual. Their midnight blue suit looks like it has been sewn from the fabric of space itself, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was. The Lakreej have incredible talents when it comes to the work of a seamstress. I notice the swirling galaxy over their heart is the same deep purple of their eyes, clever, I can’t help but think.

My own dress is a deep red. No stars or galaxies here, but the trimming does sparkle. Thanks to Leigh, of course, they sewed the trimming on for me. I’d been rifling through their box of offcuts and took a fancy to the pearly trim. It is much too extravagant, even for a Duchess, but Leigh insisted.

We stand off to the side of the party, near the refreshments table. The table itself runs along one side of the grand ball room. Even the usually plain wooden floors manage to look impressive amongst the beautifully dressed people and candle lit walls.

Beside me, Leigh seems to be waiting for something. Their gaze flits around the crowded room, but they never actually move from their position next to me.

“Can’t you relax?” I don’t mean for my words to sound so harsh, but it is usually me acting like this in crowds. I immediately regret all the times I have done so.

“I am relaxed.” The obvious lie seems to roll easily off their tongue.

“You’re looking for someone…”

“Almost.” They turn to me with a smile that clearly says, ‘I’m plotting something’ and respond, “I’m scouting out the quality of possible partners for you.”

“Isn’t that what the fortune-teller is for?” I can’t help but chuckle.

“The fortune-teller is here to point you in the right direction, that doesn’t mean I can’t scope out the crowd for you.”

“Personally, I haven’t picked anyone out.”

“There are plenty of men who have noticed you though.”

“Don’t lie to me!” I gasp dramatically. “They’re all looking at you.” And I don’t blame them.

Leigh rolls their eyes. “M’Lady, your fortune-teller awaits.” They link my arm with theirs and lead me slowly to the back of the hall. A small section of one corner has been sectioned off with velvet curtains, the deep shimmering purple almost looked alive as Leigh drew the material back. “Wait here for two minutes, then come through, I’ll just need to make sure she’s ready.

“Okay.” I reply hesitantly, highly aware of the quickening beat of my heart. It’s just a fortune-teller, I think to myself, nothing to worry about. “What if she tells me something I don’t want to hear?” I shake my head quickly, “no, whatever she tells me, I don’t have to believe it.” But the fortune-teller’s this side of the galaxy are always right.

“Come in…”

The echoey, almost familiar voice pulls me from my thoughts. Well, too late to back out now. I reach out, letting my lingers sink into the folds of the curtain, “here goes.”

The air behind the curtain is thick with the smoke of the candles idly floating about the space. As I let the curtain fall back behind me I realise the candles are the only light in the space. Somehow the curtain has cut off all the bustle and noise from the party. I take a step forward, pulling out the seat in front of the circular table. The fortune-teller’s face is still encased in shadow, but somehow, I feel I recognise her. I recognise them.

“Leigh!”

“Hey.”

“You can’t just hey me!”

They just smile.

“You are the fortune-teller. You wanted to invite yourself to a party you were already going to?”

“I wanted to read your cards, I needed to know something.”

“Yeah, when the perfect man would come along.”

“Yes, there is something I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t do so without knowing that for certain.”

I don’t answer. I am so confused. Leigh is the fortune-teller.

“I am- I’m in love with you, Flo.”

My words get caught in my throat as I try to respond. “But you were trying to find me a husband!”

“You could never have felt the same way, so if you were taken, I could hopefully move on.”

“You wanted to know how long you’d have to wait.”

“No, I wanted to know how long I had to tell you the truth before it would be too late.”

“Cutting it a bit fine, aren’t you?”

“It’s no different from any other thing I’ve done.”

“True.”

The silence isn’t comfortable, but it isn’t awkward either.

I take a deep breath. “I feel the same way you know.”

“You do?”

“Why else do you think I was dreading the thought of having to find myself a husband?”

A laugh bursts from Leigh’s lips. “Really?”

“Really.” I repeat, unable to keep my own laughter from leaving my lips.

“Oh, we have been so stupid.”

“Amongst other things.” I let my fingers entwine with Leigh’s. The pack of cards sits on the table next to them. “Are you actually a fortune-teller?” I can’t help but blurt out.

“Of course!” Leigh chuckles.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I’m not sure why I didn’t.” They sigh.

“I don’t mind.” I reply, and looking into Leigh’s eyes, I really don’t.

“M’Lady,” Leigh stands, “Would you do me the honour of having this next dance.”

“Oh, Leigh,” I mirror them before pressing a light kiss to their lips, “I certainly will.”Even as Leigh leads me on the dancefloor and every head in the room turns towards us with whispers in the air, there is no way in the world that I could ever regret this.

People trust me with their lives, they really shouldn’t.

“People trust me with their lives, they really shouldn-”

“No, no, no!” Saav gives me a withering look, one hand absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck. “This isn’t some tv drama. You’re about to tell my crew that our ships controls have locked, and that there is nothing that you – our pilot – can do about it.”

“Well…”

“We are slowly heading into an unmarked space-time tear because of it. So you’re possibly about to get us all killed! For real this time.” She adds, deadpan.

“I’m not the one who navigated us too near the thing,” I can’t help but retort.

“I’m not the one who piloted us there!”

“True.” I agree reluctantly. “That is my fault, but it shouldn’t be here. You said our people have mapped out most of the universe.”

“All but this tear apparently.”

“All but this tear.” I repeat glumly. There goes any chance of me seeing my family again.

“You’re forgetting something though.”

When I look back to Saav from the black hole looming closer to the window of our observation deck I am surprised to see she is smiling. I respond with a weak smile. “What am I forgetting?”

“You’re the youngest pilot in over a century. If anyone can think of a way out of this impossible situation, it would be you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.” Saav replies simply. “You can’t have convinced the Commander that letting a seventeen year old boy pilot a space ship is a good idea without having some skill, or a half decent brain in your head.”

“I-”

“And I wouldn’t have let you pilot my ship if I didn’t think the same.”

I take a deep breath. She’s right.

“I think I have an idea.”

“Okay.” Saav replies hesitantly.

“It’s mad.”

“You’re a part of this crew, of course it is.”

“No, really, Captain, we might die.”

“We’re already drifting into a tear in space and time where anything could be on the other side. Nothing could be on the other side for all we know. How much worse can this get?”

“I am going to fly us in.”

“Huh?”

“If we fly full speed into the tear but then go straight into reverse before we exit the gap the force of our ships movement might just pull it closed.”

“You want to confuse a space-time tear into closing?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you say the controls were locked?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t accelerate forward and back.”

“You’re absolutely mad!”

“Maybe.” I can’t help the grin that splits my lips. “But it’s worth a try.”

“You know what happens if we don’t make it, right?”

“We’ll be stuck in the gap.” I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “No light, no air, no nothing. Forever.”

“Okay, now you’re really being dramatic.”

“Well, I’m about to do the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life, let me have this.”

Saav rolls her eyes. “C’mon, we need to tell the crew.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, “and you’d think pulling off this crazy plan would be the difficult part. Telling the crew could be worse.”

~ Anna Elizabeth

The Fortune-Teller and the Duchess.

The story is about a fortune-teller and a duchess. It starts in a galaxy of magic. The religion of the world will turn out not to be what it seems.

“I don’t know how this planet still functions under such an aristocratic system,” I muttered. “Monarchs are surely a thing of the past?”

“Think what you will.” 4 kept his eyes scanning the passage in front of us. “But remember to think it inside your head Wren. They will kill you if they hear anything negative.”

“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes, fiddling with the two dice in my palm. “You know I’m no good at internalizing.”

4 laughed quietly, moving beside me as we delved deeper into the maze of passages. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“I can handle myself.”

“Well,” 4 traced his hand along the moss covered bricks. “I’ll happily carry you home when they cut off your legs then.”

“The Duchess has called on me before. I was welcomed with respect.”

4 seemed to shrink slightly as my words grazed him. “Things are different now.”

 “I recall she seemed to rather like me,” I didn’t let 4’s attitude sway me. “Has she married yet?”

“No.” 4 looked across at me. “And don’t you even think about it.”

“Oh, I won’t marry her.” I smiled up at him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t have any fun.”

“She doesn’t like blondes.”

“She likes games though.”

“Well I hope you brought along your finest dress and deck of cards,” 4 held a hand up to me, stopping me in my tracks. “That is, of course, if you plan to properly whoo her.”

“Pfft,” I flicked my braid over my shoulder. “I don’t need a dress to win her over.”

“I think she has a flare for the more…” 4 watched me as I dug my knife into the moss, cutting out a section and pocketing it, “gentle souls.”

“Don’t even worry. I got this.”  

Written by Lyss xx

Lighthouse. Computer. Truth.

I could see the lights in the distance, growing slowly stronger. As we neared closer, bright flashes of red lit up my face in the darkness. The red made me look alien.

“I can see them!”

“Fucking fantastic. Let’s spilt up. I’ll go right, you go left.”

“Got it.”

Moving forward slowly, I reloaded my gun out of habit.

“Don’t fucking waste your ammo.”

Crawling now, the lighthouse came looming into view. Seeming to pulsate throughout the sky, the red bulb protruded into the sky.

“We need to get inside that building. You see any entrances?”

“Yeah I…”

The thud of a fist hitting the wall beside my head interrupted me.

“Todd! It’s 2am. Get off, now!”

“Shit,” I start clicking my mouse more furiously. “I gotta go Annie.”

“All good,” Annie’s character stopped moving in his tracks, and suddenly was gone. “I was getting tired anyway. Tell Claire I say hi.”

“Oh I will,” I smirked, pushing back from my desk slightly. “Talk tomorrow?”

“As always.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Placing my headphones sideways over my monitor, I rolled my chair towards my bed. Pushing my fingers through my hair only to pause at the base of my neck, I sighed.

“Annie says hi!” I called in the direction of Claire’s room.

I could hear muttering in response, but nothing clearly enough to make out.

“If Claire doesn’t realize the truth and pick up on Annie’s desperate attempt at flirting soon I’m going to have to step in,” I spoke in a whisper now, standing briefly only to fall onto my mattress. “Like fuck, isn’t it obvious?”

Turning to face the wall, I pulled the covers up over me. Closing my eyes, I could feel the red light wash over me in waves. I was standing at the lighthouse, alone. I pushed on the door, and it creaked open. Annie and Claire sat at a table in the centre, miming as if they were eating dinner.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Annie spoke to me without breaking her gaze from Claire. “Or was it this?”

Suddenly Annie was replaced with someone else, and Claire was smiling now. Annie appeared beside me, taking my hand.

“Goodnight,” she said.

I held her hand for a moment, then let go.

“Goodnight.”

Written by Lyss

3 Word Prompt: Lighthouse, Computer, Truth.