Status: Updates
Immortal Chronicles
Pilot
1- Pilot
I was locked up for 498 days. With me there are only a copybook, a battered pen and the numbers that run in my mind.
1 window.
4 walls.
15 square meters of space.
26 letters of which I have never served during the 498 days of isolation.
11952 hours from when I spoke or touched another human being.
To lock me up here were those who I considered my family. The same people who ripped me from the cradle and blamed me for something that I did not choose to be.
For something that I did not choose to become.
Some doctors came to visit me and talk to me. They took me in the recreation room and allowed me to read or listen to music, but only briefly. A couple of hours a day and then back to my cell, alone.
I knew that the sky was collapsing every day. The sun fell into the ocean and sprinkled brown, orange and red. A million leaves from different trees were piled on the ground or under the delusion that they could fly, carried by the wind.
Memories of things seen from behind glass.
The only life I knew was that I had been imposed. An echo of what could really be.
Perched on the small window sill, I pressed my palm against the small glass, and cold pressed me into a hug family. We were both lonely, both existed by the will of others.
The only thing that kept me gloss was listening to the sound of the drops of rain, crashing on the property where I was locked up.
The room was filled with the smell of wet stone, soil turned over; the air was moist and earthy. The only smells stronger than my stench.
It had been days since I had made a shower.
I took a deep breath and I pressed my nose against the cold glass. The glass fogged. With a thin flickering finger there I wrote my name.
Kristen
A name that no one has bothered to give me, but I gave me it by myself, taking it from a children's book that I read when I was 4 years old. Until that moment I had been called with a series of meaningless numbers, which I had tattooed on my wrist.
757
Only two people called me by name: Dr. Jenner and his wife. I never understood why they cared so much, but they came every day to see me.
I did not see them, but I could hear their breathing and smell through the thick door of my cell. They even brought me a change of clothes, such as shorts and sleevless I was wearing at the time.
It was little, but for me it was so. It made me feel appreciated, as if someone really cares about them.
But one day they didn’t came. And even the next day. I waited a very long time crouched near the door in order to perceive the scent of lavender of Mrs. Jenner or the smell of after shave of Dr. Jenner. But they were probably tired of me, as a child gets tired of playing with a toy and moves to the next, more new and shiny.
Tic tic tic
The noise of the rain was soothing, like a lullaby. I had helped her to sleep, when the walls of the building echoed with shouts and noises of broken bones and the air was full of the smell of blood, sharp and metallic. But one day those screams ceased, and there was nothing but silence.
I cried, I cried with all the breath in my throat because someone came and help me to get me out, but no one came. And in the end I got tired of yelling, resigned to die there, forgotten and alone.
I had read that people buried their dead and built gravestones to relieve the pain, to deceived themselves that there was something beyond . I would have liked a grave, also unnamed, but at least it would have witnessed my life; someone would have known that I was there, for a while.
My stomach growled, overlooking the sound of rain.
It had been so long since the last meal, even if it was only a little slice of bread and water. I could hold out for a few months without food or water, but not for almost two years.
I was tired; I was dying. I knew it and I was fine, at least I would have stopped suffering. Maybe on the other side, I would have been better, I would have known happiness or that thing called "love."
I closed my eyes and waited. The black angel would soon come to take me away.
I would have died with the rain that rocked me and the smell of the earth that comforted me. In a sense, I would not be alone.
I did not know how long I remained motionless with his forehead against the cold window glass, too thick to be destroyed, but suddenly a sound echoed in the hallway. A deaf and hard sound as if something had fallen on the ground.
Put on my listening ears, focusing on a specific point of the structure, which is where I thought the noise was coming from.
Steps, breathing, hearts beating fast ...
Someone had entered. And, judging by the heaviness of the steps, it was someone very big and strong.
I got up and crouched in a corner of the cell, as far as possible from the door, clutching trembling knees to his chest. My eyes were fixed on the input of the cell; not slammed the eyelids; My breath was three times faster.
They were here for me. I was more than sure to be the last living being in this building.
The footsteps were getting closer and closer, the heavy ones were followed by others a little lighter. There were two; two people strong enough to break down the security gate of my cell block.
My long brown hair fell in front of me in the eye, like a curtain between me and intruders. The illusion that I could protect myself from evil.
I listened carefully to the noise in gait of two people; were getting closer and closer, louder and heavier. It seemed to me that they were so loud it shook the heavy stone walls.
Maybe they will go away. Maybe they will not notice that I'm here and leave me to die alone in the rain.
Thoughts like those filled my head so hard that I thought could be heard from the outside.
My prayers were not heard, because I heard the steps of two strangers stop in front of my cell. I felt that they spoke to each other, so softly that not even my fine ear could hear them.
To speak so softly they absolutely had to know that I could hear them even meters away.
They stood over the door, stop, continuing to talk faster.
I shifted his gaze to the wall near the entrance and began to count the cracks on the wall. That was another method I devised to keep the mind active.
1 crack
2 cracks
3 cracks
4 cracks
...
10 cracks
11 cracks
The murmuring stopped. My breath stopped for a moment.
The door to my cell began to shake, gently at first, then louder and louder. The dust rose and fell small screws on the cold floor. My little body is even more pressed against the wall, wanting to disappear into it.
With a flick I saw the door of metal flying off into the darkness of the hallway. A cloud of dust rose so thick as to make me cough.
Two figures emerged remaining in the dark.
They were two men, one of medium height and the other so high that he had to crouch to enter the cell. The dust would not let me see them well, despite my incredible sight.
One of them, the bigger one, approached me slowly, trying not to scare me too.
I crouched down even more. I was scared. It had been a long time since I'd had un'umano so close.
I risked losing control.
The small beam of light coming from the window illuminated his face, revealing the angular features and a bit of dark beard. Her long blond hair fell over her shoulders and her eyes were covered by a pair of dark glasses. The other man stood back and said "I told you I that she was still here."
The blonde did not move, he remained kneeling in front of me.
I took courage and said, trying to hide the trembling of my voice, "Who are you?"
He smiled, took off his glasses and said, "I am like you. I heard you and I have come for you." He held out his hand.
I did not answer, but I was amazed and enchanted by her eyes.
They were gold.
Just like mine.
He was like me. It was like me ... I was not alone.
I smiled.
I was locked up for 498 days. With me there are only a copybook, a battered pen and the numbers that run in my mind.
1 window.
4 walls.
15 square meters of space.
26 letters of which I have never served during the 498 days of isolation.
11952 hours from when I spoke or touched another human being.
To lock me up here were those who I considered my family. The same people who ripped me from the cradle and blamed me for something that I did not choose to be.
For something that I did not choose to become.
Some doctors came to visit me and talk to me. They took me in the recreation room and allowed me to read or listen to music, but only briefly. A couple of hours a day and then back to my cell, alone.
I knew that the sky was collapsing every day. The sun fell into the ocean and sprinkled brown, orange and red. A million leaves from different trees were piled on the ground or under the delusion that they could fly, carried by the wind.
Memories of things seen from behind glass.
The only life I knew was that I had been imposed. An echo of what could really be.
Perched on the small window sill, I pressed my palm against the small glass, and cold pressed me into a hug family. We were both lonely, both existed by the will of others.
The only thing that kept me gloss was listening to the sound of the drops of rain, crashing on the property where I was locked up.
The room was filled with the smell of wet stone, soil turned over; the air was moist and earthy. The only smells stronger than my stench.
It had been days since I had made a shower.
I took a deep breath and I pressed my nose against the cold glass. The glass fogged. With a thin flickering finger there I wrote my name.
Kristen
A name that no one has bothered to give me, but I gave me it by myself, taking it from a children's book that I read when I was 4 years old. Until that moment I had been called with a series of meaningless numbers, which I had tattooed on my wrist.
757
Only two people called me by name: Dr. Jenner and his wife. I never understood why they cared so much, but they came every day to see me.
I did not see them, but I could hear their breathing and smell through the thick door of my cell. They even brought me a change of clothes, such as shorts and sleevless I was wearing at the time.
It was little, but for me it was so. It made me feel appreciated, as if someone really cares about them.
But one day they didn’t came. And even the next day. I waited a very long time crouched near the door in order to perceive the scent of lavender of Mrs. Jenner or the smell of after shave of Dr. Jenner. But they were probably tired of me, as a child gets tired of playing with a toy and moves to the next, more new and shiny.
Tic tic tic
The noise of the rain was soothing, like a lullaby. I had helped her to sleep, when the walls of the building echoed with shouts and noises of broken bones and the air was full of the smell of blood, sharp and metallic. But one day those screams ceased, and there was nothing but silence.
I cried, I cried with all the breath in my throat because someone came and help me to get me out, but no one came. And in the end I got tired of yelling, resigned to die there, forgotten and alone.
I had read that people buried their dead and built gravestones to relieve the pain, to deceived themselves that there was something beyond . I would have liked a grave, also unnamed, but at least it would have witnessed my life; someone would have known that I was there, for a while.
My stomach growled, overlooking the sound of rain.
It had been so long since the last meal, even if it was only a little slice of bread and water. I could hold out for a few months without food or water, but not for almost two years.
I was tired; I was dying. I knew it and I was fine, at least I would have stopped suffering. Maybe on the other side, I would have been better, I would have known happiness or that thing called "love."
I closed my eyes and waited. The black angel would soon come to take me away.
I would have died with the rain that rocked me and the smell of the earth that comforted me. In a sense, I would not be alone.
I did not know how long I remained motionless with his forehead against the cold window glass, too thick to be destroyed, but suddenly a sound echoed in the hallway. A deaf and hard sound as if something had fallen on the ground.
Put on my listening ears, focusing on a specific point of the structure, which is where I thought the noise was coming from.
Steps, breathing, hearts beating fast ...
Someone had entered. And, judging by the heaviness of the steps, it was someone very big and strong.
I got up and crouched in a corner of the cell, as far as possible from the door, clutching trembling knees to his chest. My eyes were fixed on the input of the cell; not slammed the eyelids; My breath was three times faster.
They were here for me. I was more than sure to be the last living being in this building.
The footsteps were getting closer and closer, the heavy ones were followed by others a little lighter. There were two; two people strong enough to break down the security gate of my cell block.
My long brown hair fell in front of me in the eye, like a curtain between me and intruders. The illusion that I could protect myself from evil.
I listened carefully to the noise in gait of two people; were getting closer and closer, louder and heavier. It seemed to me that they were so loud it shook the heavy stone walls.
Maybe they will go away. Maybe they will not notice that I'm here and leave me to die alone in the rain.
Thoughts like those filled my head so hard that I thought could be heard from the outside.
My prayers were not heard, because I heard the steps of two strangers stop in front of my cell. I felt that they spoke to each other, so softly that not even my fine ear could hear them.
To speak so softly they absolutely had to know that I could hear them even meters away.
They stood over the door, stop, continuing to talk faster.
I shifted his gaze to the wall near the entrance and began to count the cracks on the wall. That was another method I devised to keep the mind active.
1 crack
2 cracks
3 cracks
4 cracks
...
10 cracks
11 cracks
The murmuring stopped. My breath stopped for a moment.
The door to my cell began to shake, gently at first, then louder and louder. The dust rose and fell small screws on the cold floor. My little body is even more pressed against the wall, wanting to disappear into it.
With a flick I saw the door of metal flying off into the darkness of the hallway. A cloud of dust rose so thick as to make me cough.
Two figures emerged remaining in the dark.
They were two men, one of medium height and the other so high that he had to crouch to enter the cell. The dust would not let me see them well, despite my incredible sight.
One of them, the bigger one, approached me slowly, trying not to scare me too.
I crouched down even more. I was scared. It had been a long time since I'd had un'umano so close.
I risked losing control.
The small beam of light coming from the window illuminated his face, revealing the angular features and a bit of dark beard. Her long blond hair fell over her shoulders and her eyes were covered by a pair of dark glasses. The other man stood back and said "I told you I that she was still here."
The blonde did not move, he remained kneeling in front of me.
I took courage and said, trying to hide the trembling of my voice, "Who are you?"
He smiled, took off his glasses and said, "I am like you. I heard you and I have come for you." He held out his hand.
I did not answer, but I was amazed and enchanted by her eyes.
They were gold.
Just like mine.
He was like me. It was like me ... I was not alone.
I smiled.