(November 25, 2020 at 10:06 am)Eleven Wrote: AKA, Of The Numinous
(For those who judged the word, there's more than one meaning)
Anywho.
I am working on a new novel. I will post the first chapter to get your opinion. Would you read past the first chapter?
At the beginning of third shift I exited my living quarters and took the usual route toward the common work area. There were two routes I could have taken, yet I took the same route each day. A single hallway led me to and from work each day. A total of two thousand six-hundred and forty steps led me to the work room. Another hundred and sixty steps led me to my work cubicle.
That particular shift, however, I only made it approximately halfway down the hallway before an anomaly caught my attention. A door to the side that had always been closed was at that moment ajar.
The part of me that had been following the same routine for over a year wanted to continue, yet my feet would not take the necessary actions to move me forward down the hallway in order for me to fulfill my duty. Another part of me, something that seemed familiar, kept my focus on the open door.
I was confused and beginning to feel agitated. I could not recall having felt that way before, yet I knew that was how I felt as the emotion began to overwhelm me.
My upper body began to topple forward as my feet refused to obey the commands of what part of my mind wanted, but my attention remained on the open door as I understood that I was about to hit the floor.
And hit the floor I did. My entire body crashed down onto the floor, knocking the breath out of me, and my lungs struggled to recuperate as the right side of my face came to rest upon the carpet.
Third shift was the less populated shift, and as such no one was likely to stumble upon me until the beginning of first shift. That would mean an entire eight hours on the floor.
Unless I could regain control of my body. As I stared at the open door, I wondered why such a loss of mobility had occurred. Nothing came to mind.
I continued to stare at the open door, wanting nothing except to be at work, while I assumed the hours were waning. Then a strange thought blossomed in my mind regarding what lie beyond the open door. As I attempted to imagine, something yet again familiar, sensation slowly returned to my limbs.
The more I thought about seeking something different, diverting from routine, the more control I regained over my body. When I was finally on my feet again, there was only one logical course of action. I had to go through the open door.
The door was absent of any identifying markers to indicate there was any proper access from the hallway. There was no doorknob, no push bar, not even a keypad or card scanner. The door was not all the way open, which made me think perhaps there had been some sort of electronic malfunction when recently used. Except that I could not recall the door having ever been used.
I stepped toward the door and took notice that I would not easily fit through the narrow opening unless I pushed the door open further. It was almost as though my hand had a mind of its own as it reached out and pressed itself against the cold surface. I applied little exertion, which did nothing. I applied more exertion, realizing the door was only going to be opened further with force, until I was pressing the weight of my entire body against the door to no effect.
I studied the narrow opening and surmised that perhaps I could squeeze myself through. A sideways route seemed probable, even though I also anticipated it to be accompanied with some pain. I was not as small or as skinny as some of my coworkers, but neither was I too big for there to be a zero chance of passage.
First I placed the palm of my left hand against the cool surface of the door, angled my left foot sideways, and slowly inched my way through the narrow space. Halfway through, my stomach pressed tightly against the door while the sharp angle of the door jamb pressed into my back, I wondered at what kind of harm in which I would be if the door suddenly regained its function and forcibly closed on me.
I easily imagined my dead corpse being discovered trapped where it was not meant to be. Would anyone even take notice of me, or would every one obediently continue along their regular paths until all that remained of me was a skeleton?
What an interesting thought. Where had that come from? I wondered.
There was plenty of time to contemplate my new awareness later as I returned my attention to the task of clearing myself of the most immediate obstacle. Once my left foot was in the clear, I straightened it and applied my right foot sideways. I continued to inch along through the narrow opening until I was in the clear.
I released a sigh of relief. Then I took notice of my new surroundings. It was a stairwell. Stairs to my right led upwards, but my feet would not move in that direction.
Very well, I thought as I looked at the stairs which led downward.
My feet did move in that direction, and I took one step at a time. I counted twelve steps before I reached what appeared to be the mid-level landing where I turned to the right and encountered twelve more steps.
At what I figured to be the level landing, I searched for an indication of a door in the wall. I saw nothing. There was not even a number upon the wall to indicate where I was located within the building. I reached out with my left hand and touched the wall. Eventually, I felt what I considered to be a minuscule groove that outlined the hidden doorway.
The sudden sound of voices above sent me into flight mode. I did not stick around to determine what was being conveyed, as I was more concerned about not being caught. Quietly, but with haste, I made my way downward one level at a time.
Also, any criticisms are welcome.
The novel can be found here:
https://www.wattpad.com/984748329-of-the...hapter-one
I've already written a few chapters and I am rather proud of what I have written. To be honest, I have felt I have not written anything this good in a long time. Feel free to follow along as I slowly progress and publish new chapters.
I’ve read worse.
Boru
‘I can’t be having with this.’ - Esmeralda Weatherwax
