literature

Rewrite Finals 3

Deviation Actions

Netbug009's avatar
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Literature Text

“Well, this is new.”

Alistair had just drawn something using Percy, curiosity overtaking the artist upon seeing a giant pencil. A quick and simple stick figure.

And it was moving.

“Wow, it dances!” Percy exclaimed, highly amused by the creature.

“Yeah, without Wednesday. This 'DeviantART' dimension is really messed up.”

Percy was simply laughing at the stick figure. Alistair sighed.

----

At last, he awakened with a groan on the gray floor. Delta looked around at a world of pixels and text. “Zelpha? Hello?! Where am I?” He stood, getting a better view. He read a large word high up in the room. “...DeviantART. Okay...” He read more. “Upgrade now.... Deviations... Rewrite Finals 2...” He paused in the middle of the story on the page, blinking.

She couldn't see, and she wasn't even sure anything was there to see.

“...This is... a record?” He read faster.

It was too much. She couldn't do this alone any more than Delta could.

The more Delta read, the more broken his expression and pose became. His eyes grew wider, as if he'd be able to take in more text more quickly by doing that.

“...Zelpha!” Delta finished the story and fell to his knees, staring at the floor, fists clenched. For the most part, Delta's mechanical body was free of the ability to feel any sort of physical sensation, so how was it that he now could feel so numb?

So numb. As if this body wasn't really where his soul had been harbored, and its true holding place was now dead. He couldn't cry, but the clear sound of sobbing came from him all the same.

Finally regaining control of his body, he clenched his fists tightly and stood, rereading the last line over and over again. He activated his flame thrower, setting his fists ablaze, glaring at the words as if they were truly the Writer. He threw a punch at the last line, then another, then a barrage. Nothing was happening to it. It was simply words. Words on the wall. But he kept attacking it.

Then he heard a crack.

Not the wall; his left hand.

He didn't remove it from the wall, simply staring at it. His former angry expression had melted into shock.

Suddenly, he got what Zelpha had meant before. This was how he was controlled before. This was how to lose his soul. He backed off and looked away, returning to sobbing quickly.

There was the sound of typing behind him.

He blinked and turned around. The formerly last line was now followed by another.

Bill wanted to throw another snarky remark at the Writer's threat if they refused to fight, but remained silent at the moment, not sure what he'd do if the threat was played through. Wednesday felt the same, but continued to glare at a random spot in the sky where he imagined the Writer being.

“Wait.”

Looking back over the story (less the parts with Zelpha,) he noticed the point of view. This wasn't like a record. It knew too much about the character's thoughts. The things that didn't show in public. If somebody was outside recording these things, that wouldn't be possible. Unless the recorder could get into the character's very mind. “This...This is the Writer's creation, right? Then...this isn't a record. This is a creation. This is affecting what happens.”

Delta smiled.
So that's where the others are.
© 2009 - 2024 Netbug009
Comments1
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SuperferretIX's avatar
Ha ha, oh dear, Percy really ought to take this more seriously ;P
Glad to see you got the rest of it down ^_^ now I just have to read the rest =)