A Fragment of Absurdity

[Praxiteles]

A fragment of absurdity

A cavern of a room sagged around the boy, hung with legions of dank shadows. It was paneled with exquisite rosewood, shelved with delicate trinkets of glass and silver, filled with a positive starscape of gems to amuse him, but a blackness smothered the great hall and wiped out the glitter of light, a complete lack of reason or illumination or joy no number of shimmering chandeliers could cure.

The door opened, and a wan rectangle of deadened light splayed out across the dark floor. From the grey light beyond stepped the figure of a woman. She was of great nobility, still retaining the subtle air of those who live amidst clouds, but the health indicating a life of plenty lacked in her worn features. Vague arcs of black framed the bottoms of her weary eyes; the extravagant scarlet-gold gown which wrapped her whole could not disguise a profound slenderness about her form.

“Arad,” she sighed, bracing herself. The child did not reply.

“Arad,” the woman repeated, slightly louder. It tried her greatly to be ignored in such a lowly fashion by her own son, but there remained no alternative for infinite patience when conversing with the boy.

“Arad, talk to me.” She infused a hint of sternness in this statement.

Arad looked up, and then paused a great length of time, returning attention to the ring of toys assembled around him. Finally, he spoke.

“I didn’t do it.” The noblewoman stepped back slightly, attempting to divine the meaning of his words.

“He wanted it,” the child continued.

Arad’s mother finally succeeded in her task. “What happened today,” she started…

“He wanted me to take it, didn’t you hear him asking?” he interrupted.

“He did nothing to you, Arad, he wasn’t even - ” Her voice teetered on the edge of dismay, and was instantly cut of by what she had been dreading.

“He asked for it, he was begging me, begging me!” Arad shouted, refusing to take in a word of his mother’s mediation.

“Arad, listen to me – “

“You’re lying!”

“ – listen to me, what you did was wrong – “

“Lying! Lying!”

“ – and it’s not okay if you said sorry, it’s not okay if you stopped before he started to bleed – “

“You’re not even there! You’re not talking to me!”

“ARAD!” she shouted, before the boy could lose reality completely.

“YOU’RE NOT THERE, YOU’RE NOT THERE, YOU DON’T EXIST, YOU DON’T EXIST! YOU’RE LYING!”

“No, I’m not, Arad…”

“You’re not there, you’re not – alive! You’re dead!”

A moment of echoing quiet, as the woman looked at him in stunned silence. The boy swept on nonetheless.

“You’re dead, dead, DEAD, DEAD, dead!”

The silence continued, a moment longer than he had estimated. Arad looked up in faint curiosity.

A circle of rosewood remained untouched, encompassing him and some choice possessions, but carnage lay all around it, the burnt wreckage of an oft-inflamed wrath.





My first non-Pokèmon fiction. It has absolutely no meaning that a conscious mortal can construe. Completely impromptu, it was concieved less than a month before its finishing, and has absolutely no planning or thought put into it. See if you can make anything of it.

 

[katiekitten]

Nice! I loved the ending, 'twas very effective. I really liked how the boy reacted to his mother's scolds, it was entirely realistic and very believable. (I could see my brothers saying such things. xD) Like I said, the ending image was very powerful, I can see in my mind's eye the boy just sitting there. The way his mother's death happened in absolute silence was appropriate, for a distinct lack of caffeine-doped brain cells to think of a more fitting term. Very nice.

 

[Praxiteles]

Hrm?

O.O

A review? A positive review?

As I said, the component parts of this ficion were built spontaneously in a kind of subconscious daze. Indeed, the idea had come from a half-awake dream I had once. If I had actually given some thought to it, I thought it might have been more effective. You can imagine my surprise at your review, therefore. I guess my subconscious is more competent at such matters than I give it credit for.

Wheel, thanks for the review. I thought I was going to get far greater criticism than this.

 

[Sike Saner]

All right, that was seriously cool. o.o I don't know whether perhaps a demon possessed or tricked the boy into doing something terrible, or if it was something more mundane that created the horror surrounding him, or if perhaps none of what the boy experienced even actually happened and was merely a nightmare or some other cruel trick of his mind... there are a number of ways that piece could be interpreted, but whatever its meaning may be, I enjoyed it.

Favorite excerpt:

The silence continued, a moment longer than he had estimated. Arad looked up in faint curiosity.

A circle of rosewood remained untouched, encompassing him and some choice possessions, but carnage lay all around it, the burnt wreckage of an oft-inflamed wrath.

Nice imagery, and a nice note on which to end the piece. ^^


That was a nice, enjoyable piece with a great sense of horror and intensity to it. Boss work, there. ^^

 

[Praxiteles]

Sike Saner:

Ah, thank you. As I said, it seems I should give more credit to my subconscious than I uausall do. No, the interpretation for the fiction that struck me most was that the boy had an unnatural amount of power from his birth, and developed an inflated head because of it. He is, I assure you, completely and intentionally responsible for the carnage.