Into The World

#13 - Rickety Psyche

'Don't worry,' The old telepath's voice chimes in. 'I've monitored you for almost fourteen years now,' He pauses. 'And tonight's the perfect time to conduct the procedure.'

'Why didn't you explain this to me while I was awake?' Eliza snaps, trying to escape from the encasing purple cloud that closes her in. 'This is surprisingly strong,' she mutters as her frustrated punches only cause faint ripples on the cloudy wall. Her gaze falls on her ruddy knuckles, 'Why am I not feeling any pain?' The purple cloud nears in. 'Fred, why are you doing this?' She grouses when the dense wall begins to compress her.

'I need to stay calm,' She says, ignoring the wall that squeezes her in its enclosure. She closes her eyes and forces a deep inhalation. I want to get out. As she slowly cuts off from her external environment, a thought dawns in her mind. Why Jason?

Bang!

The purple cloud disintegrates, leaving a startled Eliza at one end of a sumptuous, elongated hall; numerous doors lining the walls on either side. 'This must be my memory hub,' she says, scanning her well-lit surroundings. She plods down the endless hall, gazing at the silvered plaques on each door.

EB. 10. 89. 00:00:00 - 23:59:59

EB. 10. 90. 00:00:00 - 23:59:59

EB. 10. 91. 00:00:00 - 23:59:59

'What are these?' She wonders, reexamining the engravings. Her gaze flits to the far end of the hall when a short silhouette emerges. The girl marches toward her, clenching a glimmering locket in her left hand. A bell rings in the distance as she approaches. 'T-that's me,' she says, recognizing the girl who stands before her. The young Eliza sways the gilded locket before her face, 'Take it.'

'Is there an exit nearby?' Eliza asks her younger self. 'Yes,' she replies. 'But you'll need the locket for that,' She coughs into her elbow. 'And what are these inscriptions?' She asks, pointing to the silver plaques. The young girl rolls her eyes, 'They're us.'

Eliza recoils when the colleen coughs out fire. 'Sorry,' she says, extinguishing the ablaze locket. 'These numbers specify the time at which we were created.' The doors swing open - as if on cue - unleashing swarms of young EBs. 'Got to go,' The fire-breathing Eliza says and joins the pack of ten-year-old EBs. 'You didn't give me the locket,' Eliza yells, trying to break out of the jam-packed throng. 'Hey!' She notices the gilded locket in her hand. But I didn't take it. She pulls the dangling locket closer to read the engraved message.

ELIZABETH BANKS. YEAR 23. DAY 260. 00:15:17.

'This must be the time at which I came here,' she says, opening the locket. She reads the inscription, 'Use me right?'

Bang!

She flinches, almost dropping the locket, when a loud bang reverberates across the hall. She lifts her head to see her deserted surroundings, 'The doors are open.' She peers into the empty rooms, 'Where did they all go?' Her gaze lands on the gleaming floor. 'What in the world?!' She rubs her eyes when she views her feet hovering in mid-air. She studies her sprawled reflection on the glossy surface below, 'I'm floating?'

Eliza tries to tug herself down by holding on to one of the door handles, 'Okay, breathe. Don't panic.' As she drifts upward, she notices a bunch of dark figures surface from the floor underneath, 'They're all me.' The million EBs concurrently lift their heads up, watching the floating figure through their sparkling green eyes. 'Just one last thing,' Fred utters.