Story #86 - You Can See Them

You Can See Them

You’ve seen them, right?

The glowing orbs, the shining discs as they fly down, mocking us with their majesty?

You’ve seen them, right? As they’ve swung overhead in the lazy halting of the afternoon, daring us to touch, daring us to reach out and be destroyed?

Others tell me you cannot, that seeing them is an “affectation”, a problem that only I possess and one that will go away if I am good enough or smart enough or do what they say.

The Others are kind to me, most of the time. They feed me and bathe me, ensure that I live as well as I can, and sometimes, sometimes, they let me speak to you.

You’ve seen them, right?

Shhh! Do not be so loud – the Others will hear us, hear you speaking of what I should not be thinking. The Others know that if I speak of such things it means I believe, means I consider them to be real. They cannot be real, of course – I know this. They cannot be true – they are a figment.

Still…

Consider it; you seem rational enough. The feeling of dread you have when outdoors, the sense of oppressive stillness when the wind cuts away and the heat of the sun rains down. Tell me you don’t hear them, beating their wings like drumbeats, measuring out the counted seconds to our death. Tell me you don’t see them, their wings darkening the sky like the grim specter of terminal diagnosis. They are our cancer, each of us. They will multiply, divide and they will conquer.

You’ve seen them, right?

Wait! Wait! Don’t go yet, don’t go yet – I will prove it to you, prove they are here and they come each day. Act naturally, though, sit back, relax and I will tell you their story. You will learn, and you will believe.

They chose me, of course, to be their messenger. I refused, saying I could not be party to such things, but they have their ways, most subtle and most persuasive. I began to think that if I knew them, knew what they would do and what they were capable of I could stop them, interrupt their plans before they came to fruition, before they destroyed us all. The thoughts were mine, I believed – I knew, until I agreed.

They had been so light, so deft with their touch I had not noticed – could not know! You must believe me, I had no intentions. I wished only to serve, to save!

But they had tricked me, and the spoke to me, incessantly, but I would not leave my home. I knew they would be out there, hovering above the noontime, basking the glow of our once-safe sun and waiting, waiting until the moment to strike. They are biding their time, you see. Copulating. Creating. Breeding. They are many; soon they will be legion, and we will be unable to stop them.

Consider what you know to be true, what you see to be reality. How much can we say for certain? How much can we honestly believe? Our short-minded beliefs do not make appearances true, no matter how much we may wish them to be so. The Others hide in sand, buried and unconcerned, inspecting shifting crystals and calling them the world. You believe as you should, influenced and affected by what they have told you, and what else could you be expected to do, to know?

Nothing.

But listen, listen, and wonder. Wonder. Look up, the next time you’re out there. Avoid what you know, ignore what you’ve been told. Your feelings tell the tale; your mind has the key locked away past the gates and divides that have blocked your senses.

The Others.

The Others work for them.

You knew this, of course, or you would not have asked to speak to me. Their way is kindness, placation, a soothing touch and quick word. They were ready to take me, to assist in any way they could as I spoke out, tried to warn those around me of what was coming, what would be our fate.

They are clever, you see, anticipating what I may do and providing an easy answer. I was to be their prophet, their hope of an easy transition to this world, but I refused, fought back and threw their system down. My reward? A life, here, a medicated existence that has no purpose except to speak my words, to try and convince those of you that find me an oddity, a curiosity to be studied.

You are different – I see it. My words strike a chord, they ping off of your senses to tremble in your mind. Close your eyes. Imagine it. Imagine them. Black, swirling, and descending. A sky, full of them. A life, manifest with their presence. This can occur. This will occur. We can stop it.

You and I.

I see your interest – do not deny it. You have questions, and I will answer, but we must leave. You must remove me. There are forms, paperwork that must be filled out, completed, signed off so that you may take “care” of me, take “custody”.

It satisfies me, so long as I can be of use.

There is more, of course, but to whisper it would be dangerous. Still. You are not convinced?

Come closer, lean in. Closer, closer. They will be coming soon, and you must know the truth, you must hear what must be known.

Quiet, quiet. Just…there.

You look better there, on the floor. Your neck pulses so quickly, with such force. They desire it. Lifeblood. So strong. Giving. Do not fight.

Relax, and the cut will not hurt. Do you like it? They give me little, but a weapon can still be wielded by those with a will. It will come down, but do not scream. It will be over soon, and it will begin.

There. You bleed, but remain still. Remain quiet.

You can see them, right?

- D