Chapter 1: Rage Reigns Down (first 5 pages)

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“The agony of my feelings allowed me no respite; no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its food.”-Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

 

Rage… Rage… All I feel is rage.

 

My heart is a fire.

 

A fire full of rage.

 

Pain… Pain…

 

All I feel is pain.

 

My heart is a prison. My heart is bound in chains.

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I wish… I wish… I wish I could turn the page.

 

On these venomous memories and hateful age.

 

She felt the ocean’s sway carry her heart listlessly from shore to shore.

 

She remembered a time when she looked to the sky and her spirits would soar.

 

But now from this cold dreary life, she wished for nothing more…

 

Then its end.

 

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"Captain,” Nick said excitedly, “we found something!”

 

Nick was a seasoned hand in charge of operating the sea crane on the bottom trawling vessel, The Vanguard.

 

“Good Nick that’s why we’re here,” Captain Calwell, a grizzled man in his mid-fifties replied smugly.

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“Wait a minute are you saying the nets are full already?” Trey jumped in.

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“I don’t see how they could be. We haven’t been out here that long,” Maxx responded.

 

The Vanguard was on a salvage and fishing expedition near the edge of the habitable zone. Since The War, food sources had

become very scarce. The ocean’s ability to sustain a viable marine ecosystem was in catastrophic jeopardy due to severe radiation levels. Most of the ocean life that had escaped destruction during The War lived a few thousand feet below sea level. Radioactivity levels were low enough at those depths to allow for a modicum of life to survive. Bottom trawling, therefore, was one of the few ways left to procure minimally radioactive food. Apsis Intelligenx, the artificial intelligence guardian of the human race, had calculated that bottom trawling was the only type of fishing that justified the resource cost to make it worthwhile. Humanity’s food sources were nearing critical levels. However, bottom trawling was, at best, a short-term solution, as it had a severe environmental impact on the dwindling pool of life in the ocean. Apsis Intelligenx calculated that within two generations, all marine life would be completely eradicated. But with humanity’s very survival hanging on by a thread, Apsis believed humanity had little choice.

 

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She sat waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for an end that would never come. To pass the time, she tried to measure the hours and the days and the years inside her prison by the cyclic nature of the ocean’s undertow. Once per day, she bit down hard on her finger to make it bleed. Then she rubbed her bloody finger along the wall of her cold dark cell to make a tally mark. She was desperately trying to keep track of how long she had been trapped here. Her torment was the very embodiment of endlessness.

 

I am hanging on by a thread. A single strand of thread that is fraying at each end. When it finally splits, will I fall endlessly or will I finally hit the bottom and shatter into a million pieces?

 

“I am in so much pain.”

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“We’ve certainly snared something rather big down there, Captain. There is quite a drag on the ships engines and my readout says the nets are at capacity,” Nick reported.

 

Trey and Maxx rushed over to the starboard side of the ship to see what they could see. However, there was nothing disturbing the waters but the crane itself.

 

“I can feel the drag as well,” Captain Calwell replied, “we've either netted something really heavy or we’ve found the motherload of all breeding grounds.”

 

“I bet it’s salvage,” Johnny jumped in.

 

Johnny was the youngest member of the crew. He was on his first voyage. His long-deceased father had inspired him with stories in his youth about the riches of the sea. Johnny’s father regaled him with tales about humanity’s lost secrets. Secrets that dwelled in the ocean’s depths waiting to be discovered. Johnny’s father told him about the treasures he had found in his youth, such as precious metals, spirits, and relics from before The War. His stories always filled Johnny with hope. Hope of what he could accomplish and hope of what was to come. Johnny was hoping against hope that fortune would strike on his maiden voyage. Not even the grizzled naysayer, Captain Calwell, could tamp his enthusiasm, no matter how hard he tried.

 

 

***

 

 

“I heard your words once, so long ago. Kindred spirit you spoke to me. I remember it like it was yesterday. Your words resonated in my soul. You said to me once, ‘I am a broken shell of rage. Hateful vindictive rage. Vile vengeful rage.’ You lost something along the way. What happened to you?”

 

I could feel your pain. You too were betrayed. But by whom I wonder? The one who betrayed me was the one I used to love the most. Moloch. How could he have done this to me?

 

“It hurts so bad.”

 

Speak to me again, my kindred please. PLEASE! We are two lost souls searching for the light. This cold chaos consumes me and all I want to do is scream. The only times I never felt truly alone in this prison were the times when you spoke to me. Please speak to me again. Speak to me. Say something…

 

“SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE!!!”

 

The hardest thing for her to come to terms with about this heartbreaking, gut-wrenching betrayal was the incredulousness of it all.

 

My heart is a shattered mirror; a broken reflection of the pieces I have become. Nothing has darkened my heart more than having every last vestige of hope ripped from me. My freedom of will, my freedom of choice, and my freedom to act have all been usurped by darkness. Truth has turned to lies. My frayed ends of sanity have withered on the vine. And the worst thing about it is, I fell into this prison for adhering to my morals against an enemy who had no such compunction. That evil son of a bitch cursed my children and condemned my world to extinction to wage a war that didn’t need to be waged. And now it is all my fault because I failed to see him for who he was. I failed to stop him in time. My failures have condemned my children and myself to perpetual darkness.

 

She had made so many tally marks on the walls of her prison that she couldn’t keep track of them anymore. She had spent so much time in this hell it was all she knew. She was surrounded by walls painted with marks of her own blood. Each mark carried with it a curse of pain or a dream of vengeance. She couldn’t even see how many marks she had made because she was in total darkness. She had lost count of them a long time ago. She had no idea how long she had been trapped here.