Message-ID: <5683eli$9711181126@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: munster@remus.rutgers.edu (Fredd Ortiz) Subject: More Human than Human {Pt. 1 Draft 2} I hate messing up verb tenses Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <64s0ce$8h6@remus.rutgers.edu> Problem #1) I'm too fucking wordy. Problem #2) I like the active present verb tenses too much, so they slip in if I don't pay careful attention. Problem #3) Still no archives. Problem #4) Has anyone ever written a story about someone and had that person unknowingly talk about the story with you? That's going to be Fantasy #1. More Human than Human by El Sol Part 1 (Life) I sat listening to the low chant of mass. I'd stumbled onto the church during its Latin mass months ago, and had made of point of returning for it. I could sit by one of the pillars listening to the centuries old intonation; words that had been spoken year after year for so long that most could not understand it as a passage of time. Time stopped. Like clockwork, people stood up and walked to the center aisle subdued by meaning. There weren't many of us; mostly old women to whom the language brought the comfort of age to. I stood up and joined them. I can't say that I believed the words, but the ritual is to be observed if only in homage to the comfort it had brought millions upon millions. Maybe I hoped that somewhere among the memories of those people I could find comfort. I walked slowly; my hands folded in front of me, my head hanging down in respect. The line got closer and closer to the beginning and end of the ritual. Faster than I wanted, I was standing in front of the old man. His eyes looked at me with recognition. I was the only person in the church still touched by the first breath of youth. He stared at me with more than just recognition though. Something in his faith told him I was different, more than a young man honoring the only comfort left to the old. "The body of Christ" he said in Latin. He placed the waif on my tongue. I turned and walked to the younger priest standing to the side. "The blood of Christ" he said carelessly placing the cup to my lips. I took a taste of wine into myself. As I turned, I heard her crying. I crossed a small space to be out of people's way and turned myself in the direction of the tears I could hear thunder against a pillow. She continued to cry. I did not know how I could hear her crying, the distance wasn't vast bit more than I'd ever been capable of. My mind or maybe soul had destroyed another block. I tilted my head as the desperation in her crying increased. I could feel her grief, frustration, rage, confusion. I stood there for minutes listening, trying to figure out why she would be so important that my mind would stretch miles to hear her cry. I reached out again and saw the cause of pain in the betrayal of her body. I know I do things subconsciously, and if I pushed the issue I could know why I arranged some things. But I had placed the blocks in my mind for my own protection before I even knew what I was capable of. They only came off as I grew able to handle things emotionally. I recognized her though, in the same way the old priest recognized that I was different. The safest thing to do was play my role. I walked to the doors. The mass wasn't over but I didn't hear it anymore. I wouldn't return. It was cloudy outside. I turned right; there was a small alley created by the church and the small building where the clergy lived. It would serve for my purposes. It would have to be flashy to repress questioning. I reached and placed a physical point of light between atoms in her room. The light grew, pushing air out of the way creating a vacuum large enough for me. I bounced. Her eyes were wide as fear of me overpowered the fear of what lived in her own body, waiting to kill it. She had scrambled to the back of the bed trying to push herself through the wall and outside. I collapsed the light towards me enclosing me. The light played on me for seconds before I released my hold on it. She stared at me for a moment longer before attempting an awkward scramble for the door. I picked her up and placed her gently back on the bed. Without touching her. She fainted. I smiled and arranged her comfortably on the bed, and looked around the room. The room was the generic dormroom architecture that my college prefered. That would make life easier, I wouldn't have to deal with parents just friends. The style on one side of the room was different than this girl's side. A picture on that side of the room gave me my best starting point for finding the roommate. A latina. I thought I had seen her somewhere; probably a class. I reached for the girl in the picture. The latina carried the girl on the bed on the outside of her awareness even at that distance. Definitely the roommate, and her distance meant I would have time. I looked down at the girl. She was blonde, with sunlightened ends. She was too big, on the edge of muscular, to be classicly attractive, but there were touches of uniqueness. The slight asian tilt to the eyes, green eyes instead of the blue so natural to blondes, a softness to her face even tears could drown, even her athleticism only added to an original. I went to stand by the window. Her faint turned into exhausted sleep. I waited. Hours later, I heard her stirring. I turned from the window and waited for her to notice me. She sat up on the bed with her back to me. She rubbed at her eyes and stretched. Her spine locked. She started to look around the room. She must have remembered me. She moving up on her knees she spun around. Our eyes locked. Her body signaled a renewed flight attempt. I smiled at her. "This will take less time, if you don't try to run again." I said. She looked at me from the edge of real fear, but answered "The way you appeared in my room, can you give me a reason I shouldn't run?" She was edging off the bed as if I wouldn't notice movement if she managed to do it slow enough. I turned to look out the window. "The way I appeared in your room." I replied. Her eyes widened. She made the next move off the bed more obvious. She cringed when I looked down at her legs so close to the edge of the bed. I decided to cut the attempt short. I picked her up and placed her a little roughly in the center of the bed. She gave a frightened squeal. "Do you mind if I sit down?" I asked pointing toward her roommate's bed. She nodded warily, and watched me as if I were a rabid dog. I walked over to the bed and sat down. I didn't know how to start but figured getting to the point as fast as possible would be good enough. "My name is Uriel." I said. She blinked recognizing the name. I shrugged, "My mother was an armchair student of classic literature. And I came late in her life." I waited. "Oh! Rachel." she said unwillingly. I smiled at her again. She waited, a rabid dog likes to shows it teeth I guess. "Someone slayed you." I said. She looked at me obviously not understanding. "Your body starts dying sometime. Sooner than you expected and not by accident." I said simply. She looked away as the fear of death won over her fear of my presence. "I can heal you." She turned back at me; anger flashed deepening the green in her eyes. I studied the change and was disappointed to see it had so much to do with facial expressions and the shadows even a minute change in muscle tension caused. "Fuck you!" I sighed and stared back answering anger with emptiness. The instant she remembered was obvious as the anger drained from her eyes replaced by wonder and hope. I stared back answering them with emptiness still. "How?" I shrugged. She looked at me; some of the fear scratched its way back. "Why would you do?" "I don't know yet." I replied honestly. "You don't know?" she asked. "No. I don't know yet. But I have some ideas." She waited for me to continue, but I wouldn't. Suspicion clouded her eyes. I studied it again, but it was still facial muscles that created the illusion. Her face worked to make her eyes incredibly expressive. "What do I have to do?" she asked. I thought about that. I didn't really know, she was attractive but that had never been issue before. Why was I here when I'd made sure from the cradle my parents told me to stay uninvolved? "One year of service" I heard myself say and rode whatever part of me was driving. "Service?" she asked suspicion dripping in her tone. "From the day you accept I was what removed the virus from your body. One year of service, no rules except mine." I struggled to keep surprise from my face. She shook her head violently. I stood up and raised a hand toward her. She backed up, "What are you doing?" "I'm sorry. You'll remember that the choice was given and you refused it. But you won't remember me." "Wait!" she cried. I waited. "That's it?" she asked. "You're just going to let me die, when you could have cured me." I nodded. "You fucking asshole!" The amount of venom that she used to enunciate each syllable almost floored me. I put my hand down and looked at her. "The choice wasn't mine, Rachel. I gave it to you, life for one year's service to me." "But you're going to let me die!", I could see green glistening with moisture. I looked at her, and raised my hand again. I didn't actually need to do that, but it helped keep my body out of the way. "Wait!" I sighed, "Rachel, yes or no." "What do you mean... service?" "Everything I say, even if I have to force you." "Force." she said scared. "If it becomes necessary, or interesting. If I could make you remember the choice but forget me, I could just make you want to do what I want you to. I guess that would still be forcing you though. At least in a way it would be." Her eyes remembered to fear me. I sighed. Death didn't cast that long a shadow. I raised my hand again. "Okay!" she said. I sat down. I looked back at the last few minutes. The hand had been pure theatrics to force her choice, some part of me instinctively how to manipulate her. I wouldn't say that I enjoyed it, it was different. New. "What are you?" she asked me. I didn't bother to answer her. "Are you an angel?" she asked more pointedly. I stared at her. "No, you're not or else you would've just done it." I kept staring at her. I changed the field of view. I didn't know if I could actually heal her. I looked into her body and studied the spreading of the plague among her cells. I took it apart protein by protein, then went lower than that, and then lower again. There were several solutions but the most expedient would be a purge and replace. It wouldn't be the easiest, but it would be the most convincing to her personally. Doing it that way would make it her feel it the most? "Are you the devil?" she asked seriously. I thought about that. "I don't think so." I replied honestly. "What?" she gasped. "I said that I don't think so." She looked at me scared again. "What happens after the year is over?" she asked me. I looked at her. "For all I know, Rachel. I'll kill you anyway." She looked at me. I decided she really couldn't handle much else. "I can put it back, Rachel." She looked at me not understanding. "There's no walking away from me. You have to understand that. If you try, you'll know that you were given the choice, but this time you'll know it was for real." She nodded slowly. I stood up and walked over to her bed. I motioned her toward me. She knee-walked to me slowly. I reached out and put a finger between her breasts. I didn't know why I was doing. I needed time to think about taking her into service. Letting someone close to me even if it was only in service. I purged her. She screamed in pain. I let her enjoy that for a second, driving into her that I could and would do what I said. I replaced everything. She fell backwards gasping as her body accepted renewed health. I stood watching her try to recover. She looked up at me. "No telling people about me." I told her body. "That the doctors made a very stupid mistake is as good a story as any. Use it." She tried to nod. "I'll be waiting. Don't make me chase you." I paused. "Because I won't." I bounced out of her room and into mine. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /