Dome Chapter 10
The Answer
A muffled knock clangs outside N-85’s apartment.
She wipes her eyes to find a strange, hard crust forming around her eyelids.
The room is filled with a soft gray light. The productivity cycle must be at an end, and in all the heavy emotions, she must have forgotten to enter her sleep pod.
Another knock from behind her door.
She slides away from her desk and opens it to find Winsor.
Something bundled in his arms. His eyes large, excited, his breath heavy.
At this hour, the monorails would be out of service. Did he run all the way here?
“I finished it,” he pants.
The grayness of sleep lifts from Nadia as she realizes his meaning.
“It?” she confirms.
He nods as he enters the apartment.
“I did it, N, I finally made something that looks like what’s in my head.” his eyes bright, the orb pressing into his chest, his crossed arms hiding N-85’s gift, “Close your eyes.”
She looks up at the orb, meeting his gaze. His excited energy, his happiness, all of it fills the room, squeezing out the anxiety and pain she was feeling moments ago.
The idea of indulging him makes the last aura of depression escape the room.
A faint smile crosses her lips as she closes her eyes and holds out her hands.
Her hands are the first to experience the cool, smooth sensation, but the sudden weight dragging her arms for a second fills her brain with a reminder that she, N-85, is still alive.
She opens her eyes.
Even in the pale gray light, the green shines and glitters. Something beyond her knowledge. Something beyond the Dome.
A hint.
A tease.
A reminder, but of what she cannot remember.
She lifts it up to face it at her eye-level.
This—is—me.
Her eyes feel warm. A blink. Tears swell in her eyes.
It’s not fair.
It was all about to be gone.
Why?
Why are they here? Why would Winsor make this? Why now? Why, when both their lives are about to be—
She clutches the sculpture to her chest as she falls to her knees.
The tears flowing free now. A wail escapes her lungs.
Why?
Winsor takes a knee next to her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m real... aren’t I?” she sniffs.
A mix of a grimace and a smile form in Winsor’s lips. He puts his hand on her face. The truest thing she ever felt.
“You are to me.”
The desire, the urge, the feeling she had when he pulled her away from the pit, returns. A yearning to be closer to him. To feel him. To press something as soft and delicate as her own lips against his.
This time, she will not fight it.
Her eyes close as her face lifts towards his, and as she fades into the feeling, she sees his face move down towards her. She opens her mouth as though to taste something she had never tasted but desired all her life. Her hands lifting toward his face, she can feel his cheek, rough and yet soft, unlike the smooth metal and plastic around her, unlike her. She can feel his jaw open just slightly as his lips part for hers.
A scream echoes through the Dome.
Through her window.
Through their bodies.
A scream of pain, of agony, of hate.
Not machine.
Not human.
Jarring them from their spell and awakening them to a most ancient and primal emotion. Fear.
Winsor rises and walks towards the window.
Everything in N-85 desiring to stop him, not that it would stop what would come, but a desire to hold him as it does.
She turns her head to see what he sees.
Her eyes widen. A gasp escapes her lungs, and her fingers press against her lips.
A noise first, like static. A shadow emerging from the distance, growing and moving closer to the apartment fast.
As the shadow grows, the sound becomes louder, clearer, yet undiscernible.
Gibbering, cackling, screeching, laughter.
The shadow gains form as it reaches the apartment.
Metal.
Dark, sharp, dirty, metal.
Arms, limbs, beaks, tongues, jaws, teeth.
Metal creatures, unlike the Sanitation Sprites or Dump Golems. Something more akin to the Trash Goblins, but their eyes. Empty, black holes in shiny gray skulls with little beads of red light, all staring at Winsor and N-85.
Their sharp claws dig into the building as they climb up towards the apartment.
N-85 feels Winsor’s hand grab her by the wrist.
“Come on!”
As they race towards the door, she can see their shadows projected all around her apartment. Claws, heads, arms, bodies leaping up, snuffing out the light, and enveloping the whole room in darkness.
Never had she been in darkness like it. Her eyes open, and yet they may as well be closed.
She can feel Winsor stop at the wall. His hand presses against it as he guides her toward the door.
The sound is now deafening as the apartment echoes the muffled screeches and laughter of the machines outside. Nothing she can say would reach Winsor’s ear, no matter how close.
She can feel Winsor’s arm hitting against the door.
Locked? Doors don’t lock from the inside.
This is Mother’s answer. Her verdict. Her sentence.
She grabs Winsor’s hand with her other hand. He stops pounding.
Whatever happens from here it cannot take away from what she has here and now. It can be over; she gives it her permission if she can just end it with him. This person who changed everything.
She pulls him away from the door.
The room is silent, at least the noise, the mockery, the hate, at least they have been granted this small mercy.
She feels for Winsor’s torso as she wraps her arms around him, placing her head on his chest, dropping to her knees. He follows her. Wrapping his arm around her small body, holding her close.
Let them tear us to pieces.
Winsor lifts his head.
A faint sound approaches the door.
Ka-Klop!
Ka-Klop!
It grows louder.
She can feel every muscle in Winsor’s arm tighten around her.
He won’t give up. No matter how hopeless.
If only she can see his face. To see Winsor’s determination one last time. To believe, there is hope.
Ka-Klop!
Ka-Klop!
It grows louder until it reaches the door, where it stops.
Silence.
The door slides open, the dull gray light from outside, the only light, peeks around a large black figure.
A four-legged beast with thick legs, round metal feet. Metal ribs sticking out of its sides with a long spine, with hoses hissing and flailing about all around its head.
Its head, a hideous, strange metal thing, a long snout with two big, flat teeth at the end pressing down on two more teeth attached to a long jaw reaching back to its eyes. Empty, black, hollow sockets that would consume N-85’s soul if it were not first burned by the red, hot, balls of light in the center of its oculars.
Crowning its head is a massive black spike.
Steam hisses from its mouth as sludge drips from every orifice.
It lowers its head. Its spike staring at N-85. It’s swirling rivets mesmerizing her, dizzying her, keeping her from hearing its feet scratching at the cold metal floor. The steam blowing from its nostrils. Its feet hit the ground as it charges towards.
A hand reaches out from the darkness, breaking N-85 from its spell.
His hand crashes into the beast's spike, giving her time to roll away.
She looks up to see Winsor’s body tossing back and forth as his hand holds onto the spike.
How is he able to do it?
Her eyes squint at his hand. She gasps.
He’s not holding it. The tip of the horn juts out the other side of his hand, red blood and black ooze glistening on the tip.
She can hear him scream, and the beast rears back on its hind legs, trying to throw him off.
“Winsor!”
The window shatters. The shrieking, screaming creatures flood the apartment.
Black claws, red eyes, shining metal teeth rush towards N-85.
“N!” Winsor calls out as arms and claws drag her into the mass of metal bodies.
She struggles as they grab her legs, her waist, her head. She shakes their claws, but more come. Lifting her neck, she sees Winsor. His legs now wrapped around the beast’s neck.
He’s trying to pull his hand out, but the beast shakes its head, making it impossible.
A claw grabs her face, but she pulls free to see Winsor jam his chisel into the beast’s spike, and with a swing of his hammer, sparks shoot out.
Winsor screams as electricity courses through his body.
“Winsor!” she tries to pull herself toward him, but the claws drag her to the edge of the window.
She feels herself being lifted up. Looking down, she sees the very long drop to her death.
A scream echoes from above, the same scream she heard before.
The creatures shrink back, leaving N-85 standing, alone on the ledge.
Her eyes dart about searching the air to find the source of the scream, but as it screams
From a distance, a black shadow grows as it moves closer. Before she can understand what she is looking at, two sharp claws grab at her.
She tries to bat them away, but her sleeve catches a thick metal talon. That pulls her away from the ledge.
Instinct projects her forward, grabbing onto the claw as her feet dangle above the city. She looks up. She’s hanging onto the legs of a human-shaped skeleton, but where arms should be are long black wings, and where feet should be are the claws that snatched her.
Bending over the skeleton’s shiny metal skull, looks down at N-85. Empty, black holes like the beast’s with piercing red lights.
N-85 rips her sleeve free from the creature’s claw.
It screams and tries to grab at her with its other claw.
Swinging her arms, N-85 tries to keep the creature’s talons from her.
The wings flap as it spins, trying to get control of N-85.
Lifting her leg, N-85 kicks at the claw as she tries to pull herself up and, with a quick smack of her foot, knocks it away. With all of her might, she lifts herself up, but before she can have a moment.
Crash!
White debris and dust explode all around her.
Coughing N-85 looks down to see that they have broken through the Dome’s ceiling.
Screams cry out from above. She looks up to see the creature tangled in wires.
Reaching for a metal frame, N-85 pulls herself into the outer shell of the Dome.
Dark.
Only the light from inside the Dome illuminates the area, but N-85 crawls, trying to get away from the flying creature.
It thrusts about with the wires, screeching. She turns to see where it is, but just as her head turns, her hand slides on the Dome’s curvature.
Her body falls into the darkness.
A wiry clang as her back lands on a metal grid.
Whether light is peering from some unknown source or her eyes are adjusting, N-85 begins to make out vents, fans, tubes, and wires all around. They shift for a second before metal talons break through, reaching her.
She rolls out of the way, but as she does, a massive gust of air blows her up into the air. She sees the flying metal creature flap its wings in frustration, trying to regain control as the burst of air flips it around.
Looking down, she sees giant metal propellers spinning, and as they come to a stop, she and the creature fall to the ground.
The wind is knocked out of her as she makes impact with the metal ground.
Up ahead, a vent.
Above her head, the creature circles over her. If she’s fast enough, she might make it in time.
Jumping to her feet, she dashes for the vent.
A shriek from above. She’s seconds away.
The claws snatch her in the chest. It’s piercing metal tears through her jacket as it lifts her into the air. She gasps as her chest takes the blow of the impact, but it is not the talons that hit her chest.
Grabbing the creature by its leg, N-85 pulls herself up onto its leg, tearing away the part of her shirt caught in the talon and revealing her green sculpture in its claws.
Climbing up the large body, grabbing it at its pelvis and then its ribs, the creature dives and turns in the air, trying to shake her off, but, with every ounce of strength in her, she reaches its neck.
The fan starts up again.
Wrapping her arms around its neck, she pulls back, causing the creature to flip upside down.
The fan stops.
They drop into free fall.
N-85 holds tight to the creature’s body, forcing it to make impact with the ground before she does.
There seems to be no chance this will work, but it’s a better death than what this thing has planned.
Crash!
It hits the ground.
Its bones scatter across the metal grid.
N-85 feels the reverberation of the impact through her. Her body hit the ground, red and white flashes in her eyes. Her body flops into the air, forcing her to spin on her back. The smell of copper shocks her as the back of her head hits the ground, and the rest of her collapses.
Silence.
Darkness.
Her breath. Gasping. Heaving.
Her eyes open.
Every joint in her body screams as she tries to get up.
She closes her eyes as she focuses her breathing.
Time is not on her side. Whether or not anything has followed them is anyone’s guess. She has to keep moving.
Forcing herself to roll onto her stomach, she pushes herself up to her feet.
The world seems to be spinning. Time is running out. She reminds herself and pushes herself.
Her foot hits something cold, round, and smooth. Feeling in the dark, she finds it, her sculpture trapped in the creature’s claw.
Fumbling with it in the dark, she feels a metal switch, and with a forceful POP, the claw jolts open, freeing her treasure.
Holding it in the crux of her arms, she slides into the vent.
In the dark, all she can rely on is the sensation of her skin. Touching and feeling.
It is immediately obvious that the vent goes straight down. Where and how far she can not tell.
Lowering her body slowly, her feet search until her toes feel a slight bend in the vent. A sigh of relief, she lets go, and her body lands at the bottom of the vent.
However, what she does not know is that vents are very light and fragile, and as soon as she lands, the vent breaks wide open, dropping her into the abyss.
She screams as her body tumbles down, wires catch and snap, vents breaking as she descends down an agonizingly long and slow fall until she feels her body smack into something soft, wet, grainy, and dry.
Her nostrils filling with a new sensation, air but something new with it.
Something pleasant.
Something clean.
Something new.
Exhaustion takes her as she closes her eyes in the darkness.