This next short story is one I did based on an idea by a friend of mine. He had an idea and I thought it had potential so I made a short story based on it. This friend is SPrice, down below in the list of blogs I follow.
“The Gears are turning”
These words haunted his dreams
every night, yet his life was relatively normal. He got up, went to school,
spent time with his friends, spent time with his family. The years went by,
until he got up, went to work, spent time with his work friends, and came home
to his empty house. Not much had changed. But the words still haunted his
sleep.
“The Gears”
He knew about Gears; everyone did.
They were one of the most important standing stones of society. Without a good
gear no device would work. You had to have a quality gear to keep the rest of
the cogs turning. He had a standard gear in his television, in his heater, his
oven, in pretty much any and every piece of technology he owned. Nothing too
fancy; just a standard, slightly overpriced long-lasting gear.
His job paid well. He worked for
a blacksmithing and mining firm, and they always paid well. Metal was needed for
gears, for most anything, so those who owned the metal could make a lot of
money. The only job that could rival the pay of a miner or a blacksmith was
someone who worked for an oil company. Oil was needed as fuel for technology.
It was needed to keep the gears turning.
That night, after a few drinks
down the local pub with his friends, Jack had a dream about a long ago time
that he’d almost forgotten about. The time where he’d heard those words… “The Gears are turning” shouted so
enthusiastically.
A man had wondered into their
village, shouting and sputtering nonsense. He’d had some sort of weapon that
had scared everyone. Jack had seen him from his window, and heard him shouting
about “The Gears!”. Finally it had been Jack’s own dad who had confronted the
man, disarmed him, and removed the gear from the man’s weapon. The local
authorities had taken the crazy man in for questioning but found no answers.
They finally got an official from the capital city Tartiprocia to come and
collect the man to take him to their prison.
Jack
unconsciously grabbed the gear that hung around his neck; the same gear that
his father had once disarmed from that crazy man. Perhaps it was that fitful
sleep that stopped him being woken by the rumbling and shaking that assaulted his
house during the night; as if an earthquake had struck. Also the amount he’d
drank the night before at the local pub likely helped.
He
awoke to the headache he was accustomed to. He got dressed in his long coat and
heavy boots, thinking to take a walk around before his work shift started at
midday. He couldn’t shake a certain sense of foreboding, however... and when he
opened his front door, he realised why.
The
village had vanished. Or he had vanished. Whichever was the case, what greeted
his eyes wasn’t the usual sight of his familiar road, but a roaringly busy
cityscape. Rubble littered the ground, and as he looked up and down the street
he saw that several buildings had collapsed. He closed the door.
Alright... calm down...calm down...
“Where the hell am I?” he said out loud, shaking his head in
confusion. He took a few minutes pacing around, trying to make sense of things,
but it didn’t lead him anywhere. Then came a knock at the door. He stopped,
looking at the door in accusation as if it had purposefully interrupted his
thoughts. He slowly and cautiously opened the door. Standing there were three
officers.
“Good
evening sir” the one said politely; a big one, Jack noted. He was very tall, as
well as very wide. He posed an intimidating sight, yet he looked to be rather
friendly, while the other two looked significantly less patient. “As you’ve no
doubt noticed, your house appears to have landed in our city. Do you mind if we
come in and ask a few questions?”
Thank the gods. Perhaps they can help
explain things. “Certainly, come right in” Jack responded in a friendly
tone, leading them into his living room, unable to shake a feeling of unease.
“So, as
you are no doubt aware, your house has… moved. Do you know anything about
this?” the lead officer asked.
“Unfortunately
not. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on things. When I woke
up this morning here I was”
The officers,
unsurprisingly, exchanged a glance with each other before proceeding with their
questions. “Tell me, Mister......?” came the cliché asking of Jack’s name. He
wasn’t quite sure what was going through his head at the time, but Jack didn’t
trust these men.
“You
can just call me John” he answered. Sorry
John he silently apologised to his friend.
“Tell
me John, do you know anything about... gears?”
“Of
course. They’re how we’ve advanced so far technologically. Everything is made
with gears. But what would that have to do with this?” as he said this he hand
instinctively went up to touch the necklace he wore.
“Do you
have something under your coat there?” asked the female official, who had
remained silent so far.
Jack’s
eyes went wide as he realised they may have thought he had a gun. He slowly
unzipped his coat. “No no, it’s nothing dangerous. Just a lucky necklace” he
said, pulling the gear out from under his shirt to show them.
They
all exchanged a look that worried Jack.
“Do you
mind if we take a closer look at that?” she asked, moving forwards. When Jack
looked around he realised that the big man no longer looked friendly. Jack took
a step back.
“I’d
rather not. It’s very personal to me”. It was the last memento of his father,
after all. The large man stepped forward.
“I’d
rather do this the easy way” the man said.
Jack
bolted for the kitchen, slamming his way through the door, hurting his shoulder
in the process. He heard them scramble after him. He rushed for the window, but
a vague sense of caution stopped him from jumping through the glass; not
wanting to break it. Then a gunshot made his heart skip a beat. They have guns!? Another shot sounded
through the air, going through the door to hit the window. The glass cracked
completely. Oh no. He knew he only
had one option left as the door was pushed open with so much force the sound
echoed throughout the entire house as loud as the gunshot had. As the big man
stepped through Jack shook his head, and with a swallow intended to push down
his nerves that only ended up getting stuck in his dry throat, he put a foot up
on the windowsill and jumped through the window, shielding his face as he
crashed through to land on the hard ground outside.
As he
looked around to find somewhere to run he realised he was surrounded by further
debris; wherever his house had landed had seemed to have a previous occupant.
Some walls still stood; barely. Using this opportunity he ran as fast as he
could, zigzagging through the maze of broken homes until he emerged in the
street behind. There were people going up and down the streets but they
appeared to be investigating similar sights of interest. Jack heard the sounds
of the officials following him and ran on, finding some alleys to run down.
Dread
rose within him as he heard shouts and loud slamming sounds coming from above
him. As he looked up he saw the silhouette of a man jumping from roof to roof. The
silhouette then jumped down, grabbing onto one wall and bouncing off onto the
opposite one to slow his downfall. He continued this until he landed gracefully
onto the ground. It was the large man from earlier.
“How?”
was all Jack could ask, amazed at the man’s athleticism.
The man
looked at him quizzically. “You fool” he said amusedly. “You can’t outrun a Spinner.
Surely everyone knows that?” As he said this a strange buzzing sound filled the
air, and his shirt seemed to contort weirdly. Before Jack’s eyes the man’s
shirt was suddenly shredded to pieces. Beneath it, covering the man’s chest,
were spinning gears, gleaming menacingly in the morning light.
What the hell is he? Jack wondered,
shaking his head in hopelessness, slowly backing away. The man walked towards
him. Then, suddenly, he was right in front of him. Jack jumped back in fear,
tripping and falling to the ground. He grabbed the gear from around his neck,
ripping it from the string it hung on, and thrust it forward. “Is this what you
want? Why? What’s so special about this!?” he shouted in panic, angry that fate
had chosen him to go through this. He’d been happy in his normal life, why was
this gear that his father gave him so important? It was very likely that he
would now die.
The man
looked down at him and reached for the gear. He stopped short, however, and
looked at Jack with confusion. Actually, ‘towards’ would be a more accurate
word. Jack realised that the man wasn’t looking at him, just at the general area where he was, as if he couldn’t
see him. Jack slowly stood up. The man looked around in confusion.
A warm
sensation brought his attention to his hand; to the gear within it. It was
emitting heat. Jack looked closely at it. He was taken aback completely when he
realised there were movements across the surface of the gear. As he looked
closer he realised what he was seeing were incredibly small gears that covered
the surface of the larger gear he held in his hand. They had started turning;
otherwise Jack probably would never have noticed them. Whatever had happened,
it seemed the big man could no longer see him. Has this gear... caused me to become invisible? Impossible.... Yet
the evidence was there before him. He decided to flee while he could and ran
from the back alley, glancing back to see the so-called ‘Spinner’ looking
around blindly, unable to find his victim.
He ran
as far as he could, but eventually he had to stop and rest; his lungs burning
in agony from the exertion, and his throat dry with thirst. He was even
starting to feel hungry.
“What
the hell is going on?” He asked out loud amidst gasps of breath. There were
people walking the streets, going about their normal lives, but it seemed they
could neither see nor hear Jack. Probably
for the best he figured, considering people were after him. All for this... He looked once again at
the Gear, looking at it in wonder. He needed answers. But who would have them?
And how would he find them?
He
walked around the streets to gather information; picking up some food and drink
from a local shop while he was at it. He couldn’t seem to turn the Gear off, so
he left some money on the counter and took what he needed, feeling slightly bad
about it, but at least he’d paid for it. From the signs about and from picking
up little bits of conversation from the civilians walking the streets he found
out that he was in the city of Tartiprocia, the capital city near his home
village. The topic of houses having suddenly appeared in the city was hot
gossip, it seemed. Jack felt the urge to go investigate the others, to see if
anyone else from his village had also become stranded in this city, but he
decided against it. He needed answers, and he had an inkling of where to get
them.
The Asylum.
The Gear had come from the madman who had come to Jack’s village
a long time ago. The men who were after Jack were after the Gear, so it seemed
like a good idea to find the man who had held it before him. That man had been
taken to the Tartiprocia Mental Asylum.
It took
him more than a few hours to find the place without being able to ask around
for help. He had to stop for a while to rest his legs on a local bench, then
swiftly jump out the way as someone tried to sit on him. Finally, however, he
found his way there.
The
building before him looked like any average hospital; except for the barred
fencing surrounding the place, giving the impression of a prison.
He
walked past the guards at the entrance; so afraid that the Gear would suddenly
stop working that when the one guard turned he jolted forwards, sure that the
man had heard his heartbeat hammering against his chest. He hadn’t though, he
had just moved to exchange words with the other guard; some witty remark about
how dull their job was. Jack calmed down and moved on.
Once he
was inside the building he easily followed some staff around until he found
their main office. He even bumped into one lady, and almost had a heart attack
thinking he’d been found out. Instead, however, she looked around and, seeing
no one, walked off at a fast pace in fear, probably thinking she’d bumped into
a ghost of some sort. Jack almost laughed, until he remembered where he was. He
read various documents littered around the tables until he found the set of
drawers that he knew must contain the patient documents. He had to wait until
the office was empty, however, because he could pull open the drawers and look
through them.
He had
to stop and start several times as people came in and out of the room. Eventually,
however, he found what he was looking for. He was glad that these pages had
pictures on them; he could never forget that crazy, wild-eyed face.
No name... That was strange.
There was no information about him other than recorded observations and
interviews since he’d arrived. They hadn’t found out anything about him. But
Jack now had a room number; that was all he wanted.
As he
made his way around the facility to the right room he was pleased to see that
the locks were on the outside of the doors. There also weren’t too many people
wondering the halls. Finally he found himself at room number 47. He looked
through the window first, to see what sight would greet him, but he found that
he couldn’t see anyone in there. He could see a bed and a table with empty
plates and cups upon them; but nothing else. He carefully and quietly opened
the door and stepped in, closing it behind him. He looked around but there was
no one in the room except him.
Perhaps they’ve taken him somewhere for an
interview, or something medical he reasoned. He sat down on the bed and
waited.
Some
time later he heard noises from under the bed, and panicked as a man came
crawling out from under it. Jack quickly jumped off the bed and retreated to
the corner of the room. As the man stood up Jack knew it was him. He looked the
same crazy man; except his hair had become more grey, longer, and his facial
hair had grown out. If anything he looked more
crazy.
Jack
was about to approach him when he heard a sound at the door and stopped in his
tracks. The door opened and a man wearing a doctor’s clothes walked in with
food and drink; which he placed upon the table. He gave the crazy old man a
look, but otherwise said nothing. He took the empty plates and left.
Jack
breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the old man.
“Do you remember me?” he asked.
The man made no reply. Of course. No one can hear me. He looked
down at the Gear in his hand. How do I
turn this off? Then the man suddenly moved back to his bed, crawling under
it again. Jack frowned in confusion, then followed. As he lifted up the sheets covering
the underside of the bed he could find nothing. The man was no longer there. What the hell is going on? He crawled
under the bed to find out. Then, suddenly, as he put his hand down on the floor
to pull himself forwards, the floor wasn’t there, and he was falling down some
hole. He exclaimed rudely out loud as he fell roughly on his face into this
tunnel that must’ve been dug by the crazy old man. He recollected himself and
felt about. The tunnel turned downwards steeply, and the man wasn’t about. He
decided to go down the tunnel to find him.
As he went further down the
tunnel his eyes became used to the dark and he could see about himself. That
was when he realised the Gear was emitting a glow. Was it always glowing? He wondered.
Finally
he heard a scratching sound coming from ahead of him, and as he neared he saw
the old man scratching at the ground beneath him with a spoon, trying to dig
his way... down? How long has he been
doing this? He wondered, amazed. The man looked up.
“Who’s
there?” he shouted, turning around in panic and looking at Jack. “You’re not a
guard are you?” he asked, scratching at the walls around him in terror.
“You
can see me?” Jack asked. The man didn’t get a chance to respond, however, as
Jack’s Gear suddenly glowed brighter, and started vibrating faster, so much
that it hurt Jack’s hand. He dropped it, and it rolled down until it hit the
spot where the old man had been scratching away at the ground.
Both
Jack and the old man shouted out in surprise then as the ground seemed to.... come apart around them. It just seemed
to retract into the walls as the Gear touched it. Before they knew it they were
both falling down.
Jack
had no idea how far they fell. He felt as if they should have fell out the
other side of the earth by the time they came to a stop. Something seemed to
catch them and gently place them on the floor.
As he
got to his feet he immediately looked up. The ceiling was melding back
together, blocking off the way they came. As he peered up at the strange sight
he noticed that it looked like.... gears
turning and twisting back into place. That was when he looked down to survey
his surroundings; and the sight astounded him.
The
area was illuminated as far as he could see in all directions. The light seemed
to be coming from below them. They
were standing on a metallic platform, and light seemed to shine upwards around
the edges. That wasn’t the strangest part, however. As far as the eye could see
something rose up from the depths, attached to each other and the ceiling above
them: Gears.
“What
the hell is going on?” he asked, turning in circles, getting more confused by
the second. In his confusion he had dropped the Gear, and the old man was
touching it and whispering to it was if he was reunited with his lost child.
“You
wish to know what’s going on?” came a voice. Jack whirled towards the source,
but found no one there.
“Who’s
there?” he asked, looking around desperately.
Then,
suddenly, someone just appeared there,
as if she’d been standing there all along. She had an amused smile on her face,
coupled with a strange look that made Jack feel as if she was looking down on
him.
“You
must be from the surface” she said. “How did you get here?”
As Jack
looked at her he noticed she carried many different sorts of small guns around
her waist, as well as various shaped daggers. Her hair was cut short, and her
clothes looked like they were made out of a type of thick leather. She looked
like someone ready for battle; someone Jack didn’t particularly want to mess
with.
“I have
no idea” he said, sighing in hopelessness.
She
also sighed, but impatiently. “Just tell me what you know” she said, a hint of
anger creeping into her voice.
Jack
looked around warily, but couldn’t see anything other than her to be cautious
of. Then, turning back to her, he told her his story. When he was done she was
nodding in understanding, as if it all made sense. “Well, that makes sense” she
even said, with a happy shrug.
“How?
How the hell does it make sense?” Jack asked in bewilderment.
The
lady sighed.
“Well,
you’re already deep into this I guess” she said, walking closer towards them.
She crouched down next to the old man to look at the gear, tearing it from his
grasp for a closer inspection; despite his cries of protest. After she’d
inspected it she gave it back, likely just to shut the crazy fool up.
“So
I’ll start with the most important fact; one that, from the expression on your
face, you obviously didn’t know. Gears make
the world. They are what makes the world turn, change, and altogether work.”
Jack
wore an expression of horror, confusion, and disbelief all rolled into one. The
woman gave a dark chuckle and carried on with her explanation.
“That’s
where your little Gear here comes in. This Gear is one of the many Gears that
make up the world. It belongs down here; a part of the system of cogs. It’s not
a man-made Gear. It’s not intended for our human devices. And that’s why you
may have found it has unusual powers.”
“This
is way too much… I just work for a mining company…” Jack said, more to himself
than anyone, shaking his head sadly.
“Yes,
well, these things happen” she said dismissively. “Anyway, those people who
were after you? They were most likely part of the Konaeix Organisation.”
Noticing Jack’s blank look, she explained further. “Have you ever heard of
Kona?”
“Of
course. They’re a massive technological company. They create and distribute…
well… everything”
“Their
full name is Konaeix. They have ties in the government, and they can pretty
much do what they like. Their aim is to get their hands on the Gears that make
up the world, so that they can control it and do whatever they like. If they
had control of the world they could do anything;
even moving mountains and rivers. They could completely rebuild the world,
destroying cities and villages in the process”
Suddenly
Jack remembered his own village, that had somehow appeared in Tartiprocia. Was this the work of these ‘Konaeix’
people?
“What
am I meant to do now?” he asked helplessly.
“Guess
there’s only one thing for it” she replied nonchalantly. “You’re going to have
to come with me and meet the rest of our resistance. We’re here to stop them
from achieving their twisted dreams.”
Jack’s
mind was still whirling. He didn’t feel like he had a choice, however. He
couldn’t get back up to the surface, as far as he knew. He went over to the old
man and raised him to his feet (he still had the Gear in his hands, staring at
it and not paying attention to anything else).
“Lead
the way” he said sadly.
She
looked at him curiously, then gave a shrub and walked off, towards the edge of
the platform. Jack followed her, then gasped in amazement as a platform rose up
from the depths as the woman approached
it, forming a path for her. As he peered over the edge he saw that it was held
up by Gears; like everything else, it seemed.
Jack had no idea where she was
leading him to, nor what really was going on, despite her explanation. It
seemed like he had just walked into some strange new world.
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