Welcome to Gaia! ::

So, I'm going to be entering a writing contest on campus, and I'm not sure which story I should submit, so I'd like you guys to vote. Please note that I've worked very hard on these and so you better not steal them. Ever.

Feel free to provide feedback. o3o

A snow white group surrounded a complex system of computer monitors, their faces twisted by disbelief. The utopia that they had helped to create was crumbling right before their eyes. They simply watched as line after line of complex code was cracked, each crack damaging the delicate balance that they had struggled to achieve. One of the youngest programmers, and one of the newest dared to raise his voice. “What do we do Warren?”

An older man, in the same snow white lab coat stood from where he sat staring at the screens, and deliberately walked over to the young man, his shiny black shoes clicking as he walked across the linoleum floor. “We fight it you moron. What else?” Warren said as he spit into the young man’s face, somehow missing his glasses and getting him right in his pale, grey eyes. “Now leave the questions to your superiors James and get back to work!” the older man shouted as he pushed James’ head back to where it should be focused.

As Warren walked away he wondered how this could happen. He was one of the original programmers, one of the few beings that knew what was going on with the world. He had been trusted to see that nobody would be able to break the code that had brainwashed all but a select few, and for nearly forty years, there had never been an incident where a hacker appeared. Everyone was safely in their homes, stuck in front of computer screens, believing that the reality presented in front of them was the reality that was true. They could live out their wildest fantasies in the dreamscape they went to in the computers; their brains were wired to fit perfectly within the system. Why would anyone want to leave it?

Warren struggled to figure out the answer to that. He sat back down at his desk and placed his head in his hands, almost in defeat. If this hacker got though, it would cost quite a bit more than his job. The older man shuddered at the thought, but the screen in front of him just seemed so daunting. Row after row, code was disappearing, and his small team remained incapable of doing much of anything against the hacker. The lead programmer knew that he had to do something to save himself. But what? There was no magic button on his transparent keyboard and the wiring in his underlings prevented him from throwing them into the false reality everyone else was in. He was on this on his own.

A blue flash caught Warren’s attention and brought him back to the reality that was in front of him. “Finally,” he said in a low voice as his fingers quickly fumbled from his head to his keyboard. A program that he had installed in case a hacker ever did show up had finally done its job. It would let him know exactly where the damage was being done. He opened it up to find that the hacker was working on deleting a person. A sixteen year old girl named Michelle Wood. Either she was the hacker, or she knew the hacker. However, Warren knew that this particular bit of information could not be ignored. It was a vital clue. As vital as the fluorescent lights overhead were when it came to walking around without tripping over careless co-workers or foolishly placed wires.

The head programmer left his cubicle and stormed past the main cluster of screens. This was nothing that needed the attention of inexperienced programmers such as James. They would only question him, and Warren had no time for questions. He needed to alert security, and the thin sticks he worked with would only be able to detain someone who actually felt as though they had to answer all of their questions or think about everything that they had to offer. Deep down in his gut, Warren had a feeling that force would be needed for the teenage girl and whoever her accomplices were, if she had any. He pushed open a thick, metal door and continued through to a blank hallway. There was nothing in the hallway. No windows, no decorations, and no people. It seemed sterile, to a point. Dust particles could still be seen dancing in the dim light.

Turning into a hallway where a windowed door stood, Warren took a breath. He hated coming down here. The people were always so rude, so pushy. And they smelt terrible. But he needed to do his job, and that meant finding Michelle Wood, and using whatever means necessary to do so. Sadly, that meant that he had to face the red haired, pointy-nosed woman sitting at the desk behind the door. The programmer collected himself as he pushed open the door.

“What do you want?” she said in a nasally voice, emphasizing the word you as she glared at Warren. She sounded as though she had about a billion other things she could be doing instead of speaking with him. “Did you lose some piece of equipment that you want us to find?”

The man sighed. “If you must know Megan, we have ourselves a hacker, and she needs to be apprehended before this goes too far,” Warren said, his voice barely wavering from a flat, uninterested tone. If he used emotion, he knew that she would win.

“You want me to send in the metadroids?” the woman asked as she gained a new sense of sincerity. Even if the people who worked in the security department were a bit cruder than everyone else, they still knew what was a serious risk and what wasn’t.

Warren grinned. “Whatever it takes.”




One more button and she would be free. One more line of code to break the chains that had confined her within blue walls. One more move to leave the confines of the institution and sneak out into fresh air. That was what Aidan said the last time they had seen each other in the barely moderated chat room that she frequented. It was there that Aidan had given her the instructions to hack herself out of the network and into freedom, something that he had achieved and managed to stay hidden doing. She wanted to be able to leave to go see him. The blond hit the last button with a satisfied grin on her face and an empty screen sat in front of her. Michelle Wood was no more.

It was odd for the glow of the computer not to be illuminating her room. To not hear the soft hum of the terminal. When it was on, Michelle hardly noticed it, but now that it was gone, everything seemed to be empty. Panic gripped her as she realized that she didn’t even know the way to the outside. What if someone caught her? She couldn’t afford to think like that. She needed to be free like Aidan was.

Michelle stood, and nearly toppled over. She wasn’t used to moving that quickly. The teenager was eager to taste fresh air. She gathered her balance and pushed open her door. She could see the glow of computers from her hallmates and hear each computer humming. Her feet barely made a sound on the soft carpet as she moved. Michelle didn’t want to think about what would happen if she were caught. She had already deleted herself from the system. It would be easy to remove her from the memory of anyone that she had ever come into contact with. It would be easy for the programmers to torture the people that Michelle was unable to hack out of the network. She couldn’t deal with that.

She turned corner after corner, following nothing but her own hopes and dreams. Her own hopes and dreams! That was quite the concept. Just a few days ago, Michelle only had the hopes and dreams that were placed in her by someone else. Now, she was beginning to be her own person. It amazed her. The labyrinth of walls also amazed her. There never seemed to be an end. No door, no window, no way to tell if she was even heading in the right direction. Only soft carpet after soft carpet and low hum after low hum.

A shadow stretched upon the wall, and Michelle became aware that it wasn’t her own. It seemed too large, too masculine. The girl stopped in her tracks, and tried to breathe as little as possible. Perhaps the shadow would go away. It did not go away, instead it only got larger and larger until finally, Michelle could make out the form of a man. “Shell?”

Michelle wasn’t sure what to think of the man knowing her nickname. His voice sounded familiar, and not that much older than her. She would have to take a chance, especially now that the man knew that she was there. “Aidan?” she replied, trying to remain as still as possible, while trying to come up with a plan of escape. She hadn’t been thinking of where she came from, and doubted that she could return if needed.

“Who else would it be?” Aidan laughed. Michelle cautiously moved closer to him. “Figured that ya might like some help outta here.”

Michelle smiled. This was the first time she actually got to meet Aidan. It was the first time that she was actually meeting anyone for that matter. In the dimly lit hallway, she could tell little about him besides that he was much taller than her, but she was fine with that. “Thanks,” she said as Aidan started to walk off. Michelle followed him.

Reaching what seemed to be a door. “Here it is Shell. The door to the rest of your life. Gotta warn you though. It’s pretty bright,” Aidan explained as he opened up a door. Michelle squinted as pure, natural light flooded her. She was almost blinded. It felt so warm. It felt much better than the simulations she had been through. It felt real.

“This is what I’ve been missing? It’s so awesome!” Michelle exclaimed as she ran out the door and fell into a bed of soft grass.

Aidan smiled. “Yup. This is what they keep from us,” he replied as he sat down in the grass next to Michelle. Now, she could tell that he had dark brown hair and tame blue eyes. They weren’t about to jump out of his head and stab her, but they were blue enough to tell that they were definitely blue.

She gave him a puzzled look. “But why?”

He sighed as he stretched out. “Control mostly. Mind control’s pretty useful if you want to run the world.”

Michelle sat and thought about it for a moment. She supposed it was true. If you could control other people, then they would do as you pleased. Nobody would question it. She thought that took a bit of fun out of controlling the world. “It must be pretty boring.”

Aidan laughed. “I suppose so,” he said, smiling. It was such a nice day, and he was glad that he got to share it with Michelle. It wasn’t too hot or too cold, and it wasn’t raining. Therefore, it was just perfect.

“What’s that over there? More friends?” Michelle asked, interrupting Aidan’s utopian thoughts. She was pointing to three figures coming toward them.

Aidan’s face went as pale as the clouds above them. “No, those aren’t friends,” he said, his voice becoming harsh. “Run!”

Michelle was unsure how to run. She had done it plenty of times in simulation, but her legs didn’t actually know how to complete the action. She watched as Aidan ran off. So much for him helping her. What was he so afraid of? They both escaped the network. Then again, maybe they had been discovered. Had she hit a wrong button while trying to crack the code? Michelle started to move. At first, she was at a leisurely pace, but she quickly figured out that running required her to be much faster. She willed her legs to go faster. They hit the ground hard, sending shockwaves up her spine, but Michelle knew that she had to catch up to Aidan. If she didn’t, but still managed to outsmart her pursuers, she knew that she wouldn’t last long.


There they were. Running. The metadroids had just spotted the two criminals when they were spotted as well. Their reflective armor gave them away like stars in the night sky. The metadroids had one purpose, to apprehend the hackers as quickly as possible. They would do that the only way they knew how, and that was by impersonating whichever one they came upon first.

One of the metadroids went on ahead to attempt to cut the hackers off. It waited right by a giant oak tree that stretched its branches out over the road creating a perfect shadow. Something that an artist might be inspired to sketch, but art had no meaning to the metadroid. While it waited, data on the girl was transmitted to it. Everything from her blond hair to her eyes matching the color of the leaves above the robot, even the location of her acne.
However, the metadroid had no information on the other human. It would be problematic for the robot to encounter Michelle Wood first.

The metadroid could hear someone coming. Their footsteps were heavy, almost as heavy as their breathing. It had to be a human, but which human was it? The robot hid itself behind the tree while it waited for the proper moment. “Come on Shell,” the human said to himself as he struggled to catch his breath. The metadroid knew what it had to do. Going off the data that it had received from the security department, the metadroid started to transform itself into a sixteen year old girl.

“What took you so long?” the metadroid asked, mimicking Michelle.

The boy laughed. “I’m still a bit rusty at this whole running thing. But it looks like we lost them,” he replied, smiling as though he had just cheated death.

The metadroid laughed with Michelle’s voice. “Are you sure about that?” it asked as Michelle’s form started to disappear, only to be replaced by the featureless metal skin native to the robot. A look of horror overcame Aidan’s face. He couldn’t move, all he could do was stare at the metadroid as its arm started to change from something resembling a human hand to a needle. All the robot said was “This is for the greater good,” before it inserted the needle into Aidan’s neck. The boy crashed to the pebble-strewn ground, lifeless. His chest was still and his eyes did nothing but stare straight into the oak tree that the robot had been hiding behind.

Fearing that Michelle would be close behind, the metadroid dragged Aidan behind the tree so nobody would be able to see him from the path. Then, going on nothing other than what it could observe, the robot changed shape again, this time into Aidan. It was obvious that he was a connection to Michelle and taking his shape would be an asset to taking the girl into custody. Besides, taking control of a dead man would do no good. Electricity no longer shot through his nerves. There was nothing but his looks to work with.

Hearing more footsteps coming toward the oak tree, the metadroid leaned against the rough trunk. As the runner got closer, it could tell that the figure was none other than Michelle Wood. “That was hell,” she said, fighting back laughter.

“Have a lot of experience in that?” the metadroid asked, doing its best to mimic the person that it hardly knew anything about.

Michelle got a puzzled expression on her face. “Aidan, are you feeling okay? You don’t sound like yourself,” she asked, wincing as she realized that her muscles were rather sore from running for the first time.

“Why wouldn’t I be fine? We got away didn’t we? the fake Aidan said, watching out for any of its accomplices. “Now why don’t we take a break under this tree? You look dead.”

The robot sat down under the tree, beckoning the girl to sit with it. She hesitated for a moment before joining the thing that she thought was her friend. The metadroid took its arm and placed it around Michelle’s neck, not as though it were trying to strangle her, but as though it were trying to be her lover. Michelle was busy admiring the fact that her back was against an actual oak tree. It was the first time that had ever happened to her, and so she hardly noticed the robot’s arm transforming, This time, revealing a taser. The metadroid brought its arm up to the girl’s neck and touched her gently. Her body went limp, but she still was breathing, just like the programmers wanted.

I never watch the news, but today it caught my attention for some reason. Two people had been killed. A man and a woman not much older than myself. They both looked so familiar for some reason. The man had thick hair, but he kept it short. He had dark brown eyes, but that couldn’t be what made me recognize him. A lot of people I knew had that color eyes and that sort of hair. The woman was a ginger. Green eyes, red hair, freckles. She definitely looked Irish. I’d think that I’d remember someone like that, but then again, perhaps the pair had only been those sorts of people who catch your attention in a crowd. The kind that you would feel awkward going up to and introducing yourself to. Or maybe, the pair were just people that I had gone to school with. I hardly remember much of anything from those years.

I slumped back into my kitchen chair. It was really too early to be hearing about murder, especially a murder that bothered me so much. They had no leads, and the murder wasn’t that far away from what I thought was a nice, safe apartment in the middle of nowhere. Now, danger seems to be lurking around every corner. Perhaps it’s even right outside of my door, waiting for me to finish my tea and get ready for the day. Once outside, it would pounce upon me like a lion would an antelope. Maybe danger had even snuck into my home while I was fast asleep. They could have poisoned my tea, but that would require danger knowing that even though I keep coffee around, I loathe the taste. I don’t understand how anyone could like it, but I also don’t understand what could possibly motivate someone to kill someone else. Looking down in my cup, I realized that if my tea had indeed been poisoned, there would be no point in stopping now. Most of it had already been consumed, and so the poison would already be in me.

Finishing the last drops of my tea, I clicked off the television. I only had it on for noise, and now I needed to go get ready for work, and that meant no distractions. I managed to get a job babysitting, and I knew that my employers were very strict about my being on time. Time was money after all, and money was the lifeblood of society now. Social interactions meant nothing if you had dust in your wallet. Everyone had to be worth something. Even my clothes were worth something. I mean, I avoided expensive brand names like I did public speaking, but my clothes were still worth something. “Crap,” I said under my breath as a hole appeared in my shirt. All I was trying to do was pull it over my head and down to cover my torso and it just decided to rip. I guess my clothes weren’t worth that much, but luckily my babysitting services are. I’ll just have to stop at the store on my way home tonight.

After what must have been a record time, I was ready. Long hair pulled back into a ponytail, sunglasses on my head and sneakers tied. I was ready to go face the cute little monsters and whatever their schemes for the day would be. After all, five year old twins could be quite the troublemakers, but I loved them, and I did have to admit that they made my life interesting, even though something in me always seemed to be yearning for something more. I always thought that part of me as something leftover from my past life. I always wondered what I was in each life of mine. It would be interesting to find out, but I didn’t have time to think about that now. I needed to get going.

Opening the door to the large white house, I was immediately greeted by the bright smiling faces of Sam and Alex. “Sara!” they said as they ran toward me to attack me with a giant hug. Mornings just wouldn’t be good without getting attacked by them.

“Good morning!” I smiled as I squeezed them tightly. So what? They weren’t my own kids, but I spent enough time with them that it felt like it. I knew pretty much everything about them. When their birthday was, their favorite colors, what food I had to lie about when I gave it to them, and who their favorite superheroes were. Spider-Man for Alex and Batman for Sam. When dealing with five year old boys, it was very important to remember those things. “Hey, where’s your parents?” I asked as I let them go.

“I dun know,” Alex, or at least the twin that I was fairly certain was Alex replied. It could be difficult to tell them apart. They both had the same big, brown eyes, pale skin and red hair. Sometimes they would even wear the same clothes. Luckily, this seemed to be one of those days were they decided to dress differently.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Are they still here?” I asked as I started moving further into the house, moving past happy portraits of the family. Sometimes, I wish that my family had done that. Maybe then I would remember them more. I only catch a glimpse and my mind then and again.

“Well, I don’t think they ever came home last night! We were stuck with the mean babysitter!” Sam yelled as he chased after me. I had never met this other babysitter, but from what I heard from the twins, she had to be the distant cousin of the Wicked Witch of the West. They got stuck with her whenever their parents went away on a business trip or went out on a date. But if they were planning on not coming home, they would have told me. Something just didn't sit well with me.

"Well, why don't we get you some breakfast?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen only to discover the Cereal Apocalypse. Fruit Loops scattered amongst crumbled remains of Cheerios. Shredded Wheat shredded beyond what is considered normal. It was as if the nations of the cereal cabinet had gone to war and none had won.

The boys followed me into the kitchen. One look at them and I knew that they wanted me to believe the Cereal Apocalypse story. "We were hungry," Alex explained as he shuffled some mangled Cocoa Puffs under his foot.

"We're still hungry!" Sam added, whining. It figured that they would still be hungry. They were growing boys.

Deciding that someone, and that someone would likely be me, needed to clean up this mess, I went to go get the broom only to return to Alex crawling around up on the counter. “Get down from there,” I said, dropping the broom and approaching him ready to pull him off the counter if necessary.

“But I saw this envelope and it had your name on it,” he said as he slid off the counter, his feet landing with a loud thud on the tile floor. I really have to wonder where these boys got their energy from, but more importantly, I wondered what an envelope with my name on it on the counter could possibly mean. It could mean so many different things, especially since I know that I did not leave an envelope here. Why would I? Could it be from the other babysitter?

Upon picking it up, I noticed that it seemed to be packed pretty tightly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just one little piece of paper, like most people would assume when given such an envelope. “Alright, why don’t you guys go watch some cartoons?” I suggested to get them out of the kitchen so I could not only clean, but also open the envelope. I mean, what else was I going to do with an envelope with my name on it? By rule, it was mine.

As soon as the boys were in the family room and I heard the stupid little theme song from whatever cartoon they had decided upon I slid my thumb under the envelope, breaking it open. On first glance, the papers seemed to be never ending. To be honest, I would have had no idea where to start if all of the papers weren’t wrapped in yet another one. I unfolded it to find neat print likely written by Mrs. Wilson, the boys’ mother.

Sara,
If you’re reading this, then that means that it’s time for you to know the truth. But be warned, once you know the truth, you can’t let anyone else know. Not unless it’s a matter of life or death. This is about the twins. Joe and I aren’t really their parents.We’ve only recently discovered who they are, you’ll find their pictures enclosed in this envelope. Alexander and Samuel were given to us at the age of three. They were given to us as part of our involvement in an organization whose name is not important now. Especially if you’re reading this.

This organization is the social services of superheroes. Yes, you read that right. Superheroes. All they told Joe and I was that they were found abandoned and, well, I never knew this, but they can test for superpowers, and the boys tested positive for having them. They won’t develop until they’re teenagers, but it is still dangerous for them. It’s even dangerous for you now, but don’t worry, you’ll have help. Just keep going through the contents of this envelope. They’ll lead you in the right direction.
Best of Luck,
Amanda

I nearly dropped the letter and the envelope because my hands were shaking so bad. Sam and Alex, the boys who had caused the complete destruction of cereal-kind, were dormant superheroes? No. This couldn’t be. This just couldn’t. Superheroes aren't real. They were role models for us, but they were fictional. Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, they were just cartoons and movies.

Even if they were real, Sam and Alex certainly were not them. They were five for God’s sake! Five year old boys were not superheroes! I placed Mrs. Wilson’s letter down on the counter and dumped the remaining contents of the letter on top of it. When it had all finished falling, a silver key plopped on top of the papers. I pushed that aside figuring that the papers would all explain that. Shuffling through them, I discovered that Sam apparently had an aptitude for psychic powers and Alex had one for being able to transform himself and that if I didn’t protect the boys that they could quite possibly end up in the hands of what would be much easier to call evil. I don’t want to see them used to hurt people. Not if they could help people. I found out that the silver key led to a safe room, a lair really. A little secret hero hideaway.

Then there was something else that struck me, the pictures of the twins’ real parents. They were the same people I had seen on the news earlier. The same people who had been murdered. But I would have had to see them before in order to recognize them. Now that I knew that they were related to the boys, I was even more bothered by their deaths. A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts and so I shoved the key into my pocket and dropped the papers on the counter.

Walking through the hall I had used to get to the kitchen, I wondered if the portraits that were hanging were really of the Wilson family. Who were these people? There was one photo that took my attention, and I realized why. The boys always told me that it was their aunt and their uncle who lived far away. I suppose that’s why I never questioned why they had red hair and their parents were blonds. The man and woman in that portrait, holding hands and looking lovingly at each other were their parents. But I couldn’t stare at that for too long. There was someone at the door after all and their knocking just got louder and more obnoxious the longer I took in getting to the door.

Peering through the window, I found a man with a pizza box on the porch. That was strange. I didn’t order pizza, and even if I had, I thought that nine in the morning was way too early for a delivery. “Hello,” I said as I cautiously opened the door. I had to be extra wary know that I knew. Anyone could be evil, even pizza delivery guys.

“I have an order here for Wilson, mind if I bring it inside?” he asked as he moved closer to the door. Panic gripped me, but I needed to stay calm. What if he really was just a good natured delivery man? After all, as far as I knew the Wilsons were still alive. They could have ordered us pizza. But that was silly. Chances were they were dead, and they knew better than to give five year olds pizza for breakfast.

“Um, we didn’t order any pizza,” I replied, as I gripped the door. I was ready to slam it into this punk’s face if needed.

“I really think you did,” he said as he got ridiculously close to me causing me to squeam. I hoped I didn’t have to fight this guy. I mean, what did I have? I had pretty long nails, and I was sure my feet could do some damage, but I had no weapons. I had no formal training. Yet here I was, suddenly in charge of undeveloped superheroes. Children who needed to be protected.

“Uh, no, I didn’t,” I said as I slammed the door as hard as I could, only to find it caught on the guy’s foot. He immediately pushed his way past me and into the house. “s**t,” I cursed. At least he went upstairs.

I ran past the portraits and found the boys. They seemed unaware of what was going on. Just standing in the kitchen while the pizza guy tore apart the room right above them. “Come on guys, we need to go,” I said as calmly as I could manage. I grabbed the papers and hastily folded them so they would fit in my bra and then I took the boys by the hands. The key was still in my pocket.

“Why are we in front of this door?” Sam asked as he yanked free of my grasp.

“Yeah. Mommy and Daddy said we could never use this door unless they were here and they’re not here,” his brother added.

Of course they would say that. “Mommy and Daddy gave me permission to use it, but they said that you had to come with me,” I replied as I fumbled around with the tiny key. It eventually clicked open to reveal stairs. Turning around, I noticed that Sam had disappeared. “Alex, I want you to go downstairs and close this door and don’t open it up for anyone,” I told him with panic in my eyes. The boy lost his real parents and his fake parents. I wasn’t about to let him lose his twin brother.

“Okay,” Alex said. He was so unsure of himself. It broke my heart to close the door on him, but I just had to. He would be safe down there. I just had to keep telling myself that.

“Sam!” I shouted through the house, hoping he would answer me. Hoping that he would answer me and be alright. Hoping that the evil pizza guy wouldn’t hear me.

I crept through the house and walked into the family room to find the guy holding a gun to Sam’s head. Why he went back, I have no idea. Cartoons probably. “So that’s what this one’s name is. Sam. Nice name,” he said.

“Sara,” Sam said, pleading with me to do something. If I wasn’t so focused, I would have thought about how ironic it is that a superhero was asking me to help him. Me. Regular old Sara. What was I supposed to do.

“If you know what’s good for the boys, Sara, you’ll tell me where the other twerp is.”

“If I know what’s good for the boys? Dude, what do you know about that? You deliver pizza for a living. I doubt you can raise a family properly. I happen to raise these boys for a living. So I suggest you back the heck away from my buddy.”

“Or what?” he asked, pointing the gun at me. Real smart Sara, get the guy with the gun to point it at you. And he had a point. What would I do?

“How about this?” Sam answered for me as he elbowed the guy right in between the legs. I had to laugh as the guy collapsed in pain. But my laughter was short lived. I needed to reunite the twins.

“Come on tough guy,” I said as I took him by the hand and rushed him to the lair and shut the door behind us. There was a long road ahead, and the best thing to do for now was hide.