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(AIASP) Metamorphosis

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posted on Mar, 18 2008 @ 10:33 PM
SISOH PRO-MATEM (Metamorphosis)

For as long as he could remember, Chris wanted to know why the race of man had become what it had. All that was left were myths and legends from the "dark time" in his species history. Even the tomes he had been able to find in his years of searching only alluded to the awakening as the
beginning of man, not what had caused the awakening.

That was all about to change.

The book that had mysteriously ended up in his hands seemed to hold some answers as to where to look for the real story. It was written in the year 2673; the year that has always been spoken of as the beginning of the awakening. The year that the 'New Dawn' had been discovered by Anson Holmes, or so the myths had stated.

However, this book told of a very different reality.

It spoke of a cataclysmic event that had changed the race of man forever. A major solar event had shifted the earth's position enough to change the way man would exist on this planet. It speculated on the effects of the exposure of sunlight that would have on humans over a prolonged period of time. The effects of this exposure could now clearly be seen after 30,000 years, although the peoples of Earth didn't know this.

They had long ago accepted the story of Holmes, and his amazing discoveries of the New Dawn. Prior to this, mankind lived in harmony with light and darkness.

Yet now, the gods had decreed that the human race live in the light of the sun. What gods were they?

It was the only way to survive. Without the sunlight, the body would shrivel and die within hours.

Man had evolved into creatures of light; ones that abhorred the darkness.

All except Chris. He knew he was different from his brethren.

Plagued by more than endless curiosity, he yearned for the days of long ago - the legendary era of 'night'.

For fear of reprisal, he secretly created an apparatus that would afford him some time in the dark reaches. He had spent the last 70 years traveling to long forgotten places.

He had found his first hidden place as a boy, and his first relic of the mythical era of 'night', when he had become lost in a cave for a few hours, which had almost killed him, before he was found.

This painting portrayed of days long ago. There appeared to be a large city, brightly illuminated by some sort of false sunlight; emanating from within. The surrounding landscape echoed of mountains, valleys, and a dark sky. It had also shown some human-like creatures going through
the actions of their everyday lives.

posted on Mar, 18 2008 @ 10:41 PM
Part 2

It was 81 years ago when he had found this treasure.

Since then, he visited many similar places. Yet, nothing had come even remotely close to the wealth of knowledge that this book had contained. Its pages, pale and brittle, were preserved under sheets of clear hard coating. This saving grace had prevented them from crumbling to dust
long ago.

Sitting atop his favorite mount, he poignantly flipped through the book to find further clues as to the whereabouts of these strange, and yet, familiar entities.

His mind wondered; going through the motions of a 'faux' dream-like state that was common to all present light beings. R.E.M. sleep would elude him. He had surmised from the many passed-down myths, that the human body could achieve a total surrender to an 'almost nothingness', with many 'mind pictures'. The ancients called this 'dreaming'. He had also recalled that these people would spend their nights in cycles.

'One third' was an important number to them.

What was this 'almost nothingness'?
Why was dreaming so important?
Were the gods aware of this as well?

The painting, that he had propped against a rock, seemed to move clandestinely across his vision.
What had caught his attention, forced his eyes to focus. In all his years of admiration and
observing, why hadn't he noticed it?

Yet, there it was plain view.

On the outskirts of the mountains was a tiny 'trail'. He pulled the painting closer, and gently brushed an area with the back of his nails. The trail did not want to come off. Was it a buildup of residue? The over-all layer of paint was fluidic and evenly-coated. Yet, these thickly-plied markings were definitely brush strokes. His mind reconciled that was added 'after' the painting was completed. This oversight must be a clue!

Who ever did this, wanted the tiny path to be found.

Chris stared out across the distance and re-played the many journeys over and over in his mind.
His eyes wondered up and down the glens and peaks.

He was certain that he saw this trail somewhere.

Tucking the painting into his carrypack, he smiled and jumped down from his mount. The
journey shouldn't take long; his mind fixated on the exact place. How did he know...where to go?

It didn't take long for him to realise that the very mount he was perching on, was the start of the same path that his finger had 'brushed aside' in his favorite painting. This was the best start. Why did he feel drawn to this part of the world? He pushed forward.

Could the very answers to his questions be 'beneathe his nose?'

Slowly, he descended below....passing the shadows of the dark valley below, and into parts unknown. Only he knew the terrain, from the shadow of his mount; as far as he knew, NO other beings had traversed this far. Something inside of him propelled him onwards.

Half way down the mountainside, he had encounterd a 'real past image'. This is what he called it. He had discovered a 'done deed' amongst his kind and 'something else'. 'Done' meant final. No one came back to talk about things when it was 'done'. The bones didn't lie.

He recalled this strange battle in his mind, and regardless, chose to go further. It was a steep fall.


Working between 'not tumbling forward in a rushing heap' and feeling like a 'putz', Chris elected to pull what ever 'pride' could be mustered up from a 1000 ft. fall, into some sanity.

There was none. He fell pretty hard.

The bottom gave out, and he was there to receive it. He was wishing there was no God to receive his blillegerent responses on the way down. He was 'hateful' and 'obstinate' unto his very falling....when he hit the ground. He thought his heart would pump its last when he made the thud.

But it didn't.

He thought he heard the words:

"We welcome you back."

This is a dream....this is a Goddam dream....

What do you mean BACK? He knew that he was never here in the first place. His being was crying out.

"Speak child." Who the hell is this?

He stood proud, in front of the council, in all his majesty. Naked and stripped of any demeaner that would ever suppose of any misgivings of human geno-development. He never knew of these words. He raised his head to speak. I must be dreaming...

"My name issss Chrisssss." His tongue darted about, and was trying to grasp the wordings that he heard this race speak. He knew of this language and tried to speak in it.

He felt his body quiver, with each sylabol spoken, and wondered why there was a sense of 'familiarity'. It was as if he was changing from the inside, and he wasn't sure if it was going in the direction that his mind would permit.

"We are pleased that our imbedded records have permitted you to return to our fold." The whole council resonated as if they 'were one'.

What the hell are they talking about? I came here of my own accord... "What the hell is happening to me....??!?

"We sense that you thirst in many ways...please drink..."

One of the 'lesser, offensively, quiet consillors' walked forward and handed him a vial of white liquid.

"Please drink? I promise you...ALL will become clear. We mean you NO harm, only that circumstances will prevail, and you will come back, with an understanding of what 'once was, and what WILL be."

Chris thought, "I came all thisssss way, to find the truthsss of many thingssssss, after all thisssss time... what do I have to losssse."

With his lizard-like tail apendage, propelling his weight forward he drank deep this sacred water.

The scales started to slowly fall off; revealing the soft warm mamalian skin underneathe. The verticle slits in his eyes reverted to round black holes, and he noticed that he had only 2 eyelids instead of three. The inner eyelid had ceased to be no more. He blinked many times and had lifted his fingers to carress the tiny hairs around his eyes, and above them. His hands drew to other parts of his body, feeling the other diferences, and the pupils in his eyes grew much larger. His breath quickened, and he struggled to regain composure, as all this was happening to him.

"What am I?"

He shook incredibaly, not out of astonishment and awe, but of the 'final metamorphasis' into a body of warmth and 'belonging'. The air was starting to feel chilly around him, and he soon discovered that he was now creating 'heat', by the mere act of shivering. No longer would he have to 'splay himself' on his favorite rock mount, in order to grasp the sun's rays.

One council member came forward to offer a warm blanket and clean clothes, to which he graciously accepted.

When the transformation was finally complete, his knees buckled, and he fell to the floor from sheer exhaustion. He lifted his head and pleaded once again to his fellow humans.

"What am I?"

The council stood up, and in unison decried the words:

"YOU...are finally home...Welcome Brethren."

END....or is it?

posted on Mar, 18 2008 @ 11:18 PM
Please read? PLEASE?

It is a very good story!


posted on Mar, 20 2008 @ 10:16 AM
That was cool! The metamorphosis from lizard to human was very well done - I loved the hisssssssing accent: nice touch!

[Also had a bit of deja vu reading the part where Chris fell from the mountain: my story's character did the same thing!]

Anyway - as you ask the reader: Is this the END???

posted on Mar, 20 2008 @ 09:05 PM
reply to post by Outrageo

Thankyou for your comments...very much appreciate!

Anyway - as you ask the reader: Is this the END???

Not in the least!

I left the reader hanging, as you found out.


posted on Mar, 22 2008 @ 02:54 PM
reply to post by TheDuckster

I apologise that my story wasn't up to 'kempt' with the others.

I've worked on this one...long and hard, and promise to give you a Sequel that is just as inviting as my prelude.


posted on Mar, 22 2008 @ 04:44 PM
reply to post by TheDuckster

Nice story Ducky!
I too loved the transformation from lizard to warm blooded something. Is he human or something else? Anyway, nice job and will be waiting to read part two when you post it.

Star for you.

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