The Strings of Necropolis Gully
The Strings of Necropolis Gully
A cold spike of dread bypassed the suit’s emotional regulators. I was the exhibit. My internal narrator fought back: Psychological stress response. Observe. "No," I whispered, my boots skidding as I turned from the dark doorway.
I stood in the open gully, trapped between impossible walls. Far above, an arched stone bridge spanned the chasm. It wasn't a bridge. It was a proscenium arch. This gully was the stage, and the masters were watching. The Paraknowing was no longer a signal; it was the atmosphere. It tugged, insistent. They are waiting for the show.
I felt the tug at my wrist. My gloved hand wanted to lift. "A cognitive hazard," I said.
The gully laughed through a cold ripple of jest from the stone. Puppet. The word was a description. I planted my feet, defiant, but a violent force snapped my head to the right. Look here, the gully commanded. My heart hammered. Now walk.
The tug was now an irresistible force, hauling me toward the bridge. My leg lifted, the boot grating on stone. It wasn't my choice. My internal narrator screamed a final, useless warning: Motor control compromised! I was moving. The puppet was beginning its dance.
odcast:
www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXaHuXMcUMrhIzfjKlj9clJCOf...
Meta TV
www.facebook.com/watch/100063480315046/1020837046583872/
Blogger
www.jjfbbennett.com/2025/10/necropolis-gully.html
FB Subscriber Hub
www.facebook.com/share/g/1AycZvNRzH/
eBook
www.amazon.com/author/jjfbbennett
Tags
#art #Spacestation #scifi #fictionalworld #story #arthouse #futuristic #spaceadventure #Sanctuary #Revitalisation #Retro #art #metaart #videoart #videoartist
The Strings of Necropolis Gully
The Strings of Necropolis Gully
A cold spike of dread bypassed the suit’s emotional regulators. I was the exhibit. My internal narrator fought back: Psychological stress response. Observe. "No," I whispered, my boots skidding as I turned from the dark doorway.
I stood in the open gully, trapped between impossible walls. Far above, an arched stone bridge spanned the chasm. It wasn't a bridge. It was a proscenium arch. This gully was the stage, and the masters were watching. The Paraknowing was no longer a signal; it was the atmosphere. It tugged, insistent. They are waiting for the show.
I felt the tug at my wrist. My gloved hand wanted to lift. "A cognitive hazard," I said.
The gully laughed through a cold ripple of jest from the stone. Puppet. The word was a description. I planted my feet, defiant, but a violent force snapped my head to the right. Look here, the gully commanded. My heart hammered. Now walk.
The tug was now an irresistible force, hauling me toward the bridge. My leg lifted, the boot grating on stone. It wasn't my choice. My internal narrator screamed a final, useless warning: Motor control compromised! I was moving. The puppet was beginning its dance.
odcast:
www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLXaHuXMcUMrhIzfjKlj9clJCOf...
Meta TV
www.facebook.com/watch/100063480315046/1020837046583872/
Blogger
www.jjfbbennett.com/2025/10/necropolis-gully.html
FB Subscriber Hub
www.facebook.com/share/g/1AycZvNRzH/
eBook
www.amazon.com/author/jjfbbennett
Tags
#art #Spacestation #scifi #fictionalworld #story #arthouse #futuristic #spaceadventure #Sanctuary #Revitalisation #Retro #art #metaart #videoart #videoartist