Ellen sat on the wall and looked out at the empty buildings. She wondered what was out there. How many other settlements were there and how many humans had managed to carve a place out in this new world? Camp Hope new about several other settlements, but they were all so far away that it would be risky to travel to them.
Is there anything left?
She took a long pull on her pipe as she let her thoughts wander aimlessly in her mind.
How different am I from the Zombies? Is it true that they are completely hollowed out by the virus or is this just propaganda to justify their whole sale slaughter? Is it true that using the Dark puts me at risk of becoming one?
The buildings outside the wall looked much the same as the buildings that were within it. The only difference being that those outside the wall didn't have people maintaining them and living in them any more. There was a large building next to the wall where she was sitting. It was made of brick and concrete which allowed it to stand the test of time better than other buildings, she figured. Milton Garden Inn was still written in red letters at the top near the green roof.
What would it have been like to travel the world? I would love to go see places other then this one.
Ellen always came up here on the wall when her powers were out of her control. There was rarely anyone up here, making it the safest place for her magic to seep out. She'd come up here about an hour ago and it had taken about half that time for her arm to return to being visible. It wasn't as common any more, but there were still times that her magic manifested on its own.
The only way to protect myself is to learn more about controlling it.
Ellen looked into that place inside herself where the Darkness resided. This wasn't a real place, yet it was a tangible to her as the wall she was sitting on. She could feel the edges of it sitting inside her mind. It was more a doorway rather then a place.
Reaching out her hand, she imagined touching the edge of that Darkness. Humming inside her skull, it woke. Thrumming in the rhythm of her heart beat, it pulsed itself open like a hungry maw revealing more as it bloomed. The tendrils of it reached themselves out into her mind sliding over her thoughts and memories like warm oil.
Looking into the opening that this created inside herself, she yearned to understand how she could be so vast and empty.
Colossus.
The word echoed inside her, vibrating through her head and down into her spine. She could feel the power of that single word washing over her, making her stronger. It was like she was donning armor.
"Hiding from your problems isn't going to make them go away," Christine said as she sat down next to Ellen.
Slamming the lid shut, she snapped her head up to see Christine was joining her. She hadn't heard her coming. She had completely lost herself in the Darkness.
"What?" Ellen asked.
Christine repeated herself.
There was nothing to say. Christine was right. She often was, but her ego didn't need Ellen telling her that.
"How long you going to hide up here?" Christine pushed her glasses up her nose and looked in the direction that Ellen was staring. "Anything good to see up here?"
Ellen snorted.
There isn't anything good to see anywhere in this camp. It might have started out as a Camp Hope, but that name doesn't suit it anymore. They should rename it Camp Oppression.
Ellen gestured towards the Milton Garden Inn.
"What you see is what you get," she stated.
Christine nodded once, slowly.
"Why do you like it up here?" she asked, now looking at Ellen.
Wisps of hair had fallen from her bun and the long strands wafted around her face in the breeze. Christine was beautiful. She had large brown eyes and full, pouty lips. Her hair was a rich, dark brown that was smooth and silky when she let it down to fall around her body.
What is it like being Christine? She has everything. I wonder if she is as happy as I imagine she is or does she also have secrets to hide? Maybe everyone is like me and we are all just hiding it from each other because we have been taught to be afraid of our magic.
"I'd give a credit for you thoughts," Christine said, running her fingertips gently along Ellen's cheek.
Yeah, right. Just open up and tell her how I am thinking about my secret magical powers and that I am foolishly imagining a world where everyone has powers. Right. That would go well.
Ellen shrugged. There was never anything that she could. At least, not safely. Better to just stay silent and stay safe. Words are dangerous things. It is all too easy to say to much and to let things slide out into the world. Things that can never be taken back or rehidden once they are let out.
Silence is my shield.
Christine nodded and folded her hands in her lap.
She always wants more from me, but her payments aren't for me. That money just pays for my body and she knows that. Did she really think that she could buy my heart? Hell, maybe she can. She's a Doctor. She can probably have any cadaver she wants for her research. When I am dead, she can cut my heart out and put it up on one of her shelves.
Ellen sighed.
"Have you ever felt that you were meant for something more, but you just couldn't find the shape of it?" she whispered, hoping that Christine wouldn't hear her but also hoping that she would somehow understand what she was talking about.
There was a long silence.
She thinks I'm stupid.
"No, I don't think that I was meant for anything," she answered while looking out at the sky bridge crossing over the wall from the parking garage.
"This world gives us no purpose. There are no predetermined meanings," her voice was flat.
Nothing? What about the Maker?
A small black and red tentacle was pinned to the lapel of her lab coat. It was the Maker's.
Didn't she believe in the Maker?
"I think that I came into this world as a completely blank slate and that I am the only one that can write meaning on myself. I was meant for nothing except what I choose for myself."
Silence settled down between them again.
What would it be like to have no meaning or purpose?
This idea frightened her in unexpected ways. It was like there were a hundred doors opening up inside her. Each one presented her with a different possibility of herself. She could choose the door she traveled and become the person she saw behind it.
There is more for you in this world then is offered in this camp.
She could feel the truth of this in her marrow. The Dark gave her purpose.
Christine chuckled.
"But you probably think that's stupid," Christine said as she adjusted her glasses without seeming to move them anywhere.
"No. It's not stupid," Ellen said.
Does she have the same insecurities that I do?
"Doesn't it frighten you? To be responsible for your own purpose?" Ellen asked.
"No," Christine answered.
Ellen didn't think that she was going to say anything else.
"This world is brutal, raw and unfair. What meaning and purpose can there possibly be in a universe that has given us a virus that can twist our shape and rob us of our minds? Even if it were to offer me a purpose, how could I accept anything from this place?" she asked with a flick of her hand towards the camp behind them.
Ellen blinked.
What is she saying?
"I suspect that us Humans are as hollow as the Zombies," Christine whispered.
Christine put a hand over the tentacle that she wore.
"That's enough of my bullshit," Christine said as she stood up.
She extended a hand down to Ellen, offering to help her up. Ellen slid her hand into Christine's and marveled at the strength of this woman. Standing next to her, Ellen felt small.
"Let's go have dinner," Christine said.
