Milgram will be on a temporary hiatus while I start a new writing project. I intend to finish Milgram in the future, but my focus has briefly been shifted. I’ll keep you guys updated.
Busy. Again
Sorry, no post this week.
Interlude: The Tenth: The Tale of Dale
Two nights. That’s how long it took for Dale to discover his powers. It wasn’t a shock, the police station not believing his story. Dale had barely made it out of there before they started to ask too many questions. In fact, before they had even asked any questions. The laughter from the thought of time traveling preteens who magically grew up and aged as they moved forward 70 years still rung in Dale’s ears.
On the morning of the third day, Dale decided he needed to steal some more food, fast. The dumpster diving had made him throw up, and he was weak from hunger. But, as Dale stood in front of the convenience store, he realized he couldn’t go through with it.
That stupid cave, he thought bitterly. Dale kicked the side of his dumpster. His eyes teared up as he thought about everything he lost. Home.
“Stupid cave!” He yelled. The next kick was far more violent, knocking a hole into the dumpster with a rusty plume of metal. Dale paused, his mental train of self pity halted momentarily. He stretched out a finger and touched the dumpster again. It rusted and corroded away in the blink of an eye, leaving a hole where his fingertip rested.
Dale had arrived three days ago. In all that confusing time, he had been able to discover one of the most drastic changes in the world. Superhumans. They were everywhere, in newspapers and televisions and the radio.
Dale looked down at his hand and smiled. I’m a superhero!
—
The next hour was spent in a happy daze of experimentation and delicious treats. Dale discovered he could touch things and make them older or younger. The wrinkled chocolate wrapper from the bin became whole once more, and the apple core rotted away to dust instantly. Dale stuck his finger into the brick wall next to him and swirled it about. Patterns arose from the deep carving, clouds, a sun. His name.
“Why are you different? You are not the same as the other superhumans.” A flat voice, tinged with curiosity called out. Dale jumped up from his crouch and spun around towards the end of the alley where the voice came from.
He was a plain man. Slightly above average height, a dark coat, blue jeans. He had a backpack on, and was pointing a small rectangle at Dale. The portable telephones, right.
The man put the phone away and pulled out a gun from his backpack.
“Why are you different?”
Void 1
After our heart to heart, I went to the bathroom. I splashed some water on my face and sighed, looking at the mirror. My neck and face was stubbly, I needed to shave soon. My hair was slightly greasy as well, a shower would be nice.
I left the bathroom, and checked my watch. It was just after eleven, time for an early lunch. I made myself a peanut butter and raspberry jelly sandwich, and a handful of chips. The food felt good, I needed some energy and fuel. I rinsed my plate and left it in the sink. No point in doing the dishes and I honestly didn’t feel like it, even if the loop didn’t exist.
I faced the door and sighed. Time to get back to Ricky. Time to meet some more villains. I opened it and walked outside. I strolled across the street and knocked on the door. It swung itself open, and Ricky hovered out.
“You okay man? You seemed a little messed up earlier. I thought I heard some crashing too.” He seemed genuinely concerned.
I looked at the ground and shook my head. “It’s ok, I was just working through some stuff. I’m fine now, really.” I met his gaze at the end, and Ricky seemed half-convinced.
“If you say so,” Ricky sighed and we gently rose into the air. “I’m taking you to Darkdom now, to the north. A little bit of advice here, Darkfall isn’t…stable.” I glanced over questioningly.
“He’s charismatic and a good leader, but,” Ricky told me, “He can be a bit loose. Wild. Sometimes, he lets his number two run things so he can have fun. Darkfall came from Texas, Houston, Texas. He’s a real powerhouse, a gravity and darkness manipulator.” An odd combination. “Both are like, really strong. The kind of gravity that moves planets and creates black holes kind of strong.”
I nodded gravely. Not the kind of person we should piss off, we really don’t need any more enemies than Queen. “How does he manage his territory? How does he treat his men?” I asked, both would be good indicators for Darkfall’s personality.
“In Darkdom, pretty much everything is allowed. This is the place where most of the junkies end up, drug use is pretty heavy. Fights break out often, but you can’t kill anyone without Darkfall’s say-so. If you do what Darkfall says, he lets you sleep with his pet duplicator. She’s hooked on drugs, like a mega-junkie.” Ricky explained.
Smart. Seems like he rules with an iron fist, rewards and punishes with impunity. A gang full of scummy, doped up guys like that? I’m sure the sex is a good motivator, and the death a good deterrent. We landed on the street outside of Darkdom. I hadn’t really been paying attention on the flight over.
Darkdom was a swirling mass of what looked like airborne ink. It stayed inside a sprayed painted black border, though. It swirled and tangled, showing flashes of the inside territory. As I watched, the darkness gathered together to form a figure separate from the roiling mass.
It stood in a clear circle, with the rest of the blackness staying nearly a meter away from the figure. It beckoned to me with an arm of midnight.
I looked over at Ricky and asked, “Is this Darkfall?”
Ricky nodded. “Yeah, like I said, he’s got some serious power. Darkness and gravity, don’t forget it. Just follow the projection over there and stay close.”
I stepped over the black line and into Darkdom. Immediately, I felt lighter on my feet. I definitely weighed less than before. Right, gravity control.
The walking shadow turned around and ghosted away. I followed him, the bubble of calm staying close to it. I tried to peer through the roiling blackness on the outside of the bubble, but the inky swirls stopped me from seeing any details. If there’s darkness all around me, then how can I see anything? Powers are weird.
It was silent, the figure ghosted over the ground making no more noise than a shadow. I tried to keep my footsteps silent, they sounded eerie in the small bubble. I couldn’t tell how long I had been in the shadowy area, so I checked my watch. Damn, five minutes already?
We continued through the territory, never stopping or slowing down. As we navigated, I felt small changes to the gravity. A couple steps, and I weighed more. A couple steps, my feet bounced off the pavement. Hmm, the gravity fluctuations, the darkness everywhere. My guess is this territory is one giant booby trap. If Darkfall can sense and manipulate the shadow enough to make this projection, than he can probably monitor all of Darkdom.
After another ten minutes, I started to think we were going in circles. It would make sense that Darkfall would try to confuse and disorient me. It’s still a dick move though. A real man wouldn’t have to hide behind all this shadowy shit. A smart man would know that there’s no security in a prison full of lunatics and killers. He’s just trying to protect him and his people. I had a tiny bit of respect for that.
Finally, the wraith stopped walking. Floating. Gliding. Whatever verb darkness did to move, it stopped. The globe of calm began to grow as the darkness around us shrunk and boiled away. The figure I had been following started to dissipate too.
I was standing in a cul de sac. The tree lined street stretched behind me, into more shadow. The darkness in question had withdrawn to a few meters behind each of the three houses. To my left was a red one, in front of me was a white one, to my right was a blue house.
A small black path of the now familiar darkness extended from the center house to me. Well, I guess I know where I’m going now. I walked down the new path.
Interlude: The Tenth (Part Two)
Another transfer, huh? The man thought. He had gone by many different names throughout his life. Truman. BrightBoy. Ricardo. Swordslight. He got a new one every time he got moved. Army. CIA. FBI. And now, a new task force. A new Operation.
His luminescent fingers lightly brushed the top of the manila folder. In a small, clipped, font it declared Operation: Shift Search. He opened it up. Stapled to the inside cover was a single piece of paper with the bare bones of his new alias.
No real name this time, I guess. Above his picture sat his assigned code-name. Crocea Mors. Yellow Death. That’s appropriate.
The rest of the file composed of a series of blurry photographs taken from different cities. And a single, clear picture of a teenager’s face. He had seen enough death to know that nobody survives a gaping head wound like that.
Underneath the teen’s face was a long segment of blacked out text. Several words were not crossed off, however. Dale. Temporal Manipulation. Claimed to be from the past. One of ten.
The man remembered Agent Montgomery’s last words to him before the man got the slim file. “This is only a teaser of the mission. They’ll fill you in later, once you meet with the rest of the team.” Montgomery’s face had gotten deadly serious, and his voice had grown flat. “Believe me when I say that this group of children could change everything we think we know about superhumans. Useful information for your predicament.”
The man shut the file and looked down at his glowing hands.
Finally.
Update:
Hello again, my (hopefully) faithful readers! This is just a brief heads up. Milgram will be continuing in a week from today. To hold you over until then, I’ll post a short interlude.
Brief Hiatus
I’d like to start off by saying that when I write hiatus, I don’t mean an indefinite one. I’ve enjoyed writing Milgram, and I like to think I’ve gotten better. I’m going to take a month off to do some rewrites, to rebuild my buffer, and to generally get over some writer’s block I’ve been experiencing. My next post will be on Monday March 2nd, 2015.
Honestly, this has been a great experience. I never thought so many people would read my writing. But still, my busy ass schedule has caught up to me. So I promise you, my faithful readers, that I will be back.
Thanks, and see you in a month!
Redo 3
Veritas stopped walking. “No, go on. Keep talking about the villains and monsters the heroes stop. Not like you’ll ever meet them.” The sarcasm dripped from her voice. “The heroes are out of control, you get that right? I’m not saying we’re all saints in here, but they kill dozens of innocent bystanders, a week. In this country alone! That’s not even considering all the shit that goes down with the Pareidoliac and Cold Snap, and Typhoid Marcy in Australia. Not to mention the conflicts and battles going on all over the world. The ‘heroes’,” she made more exaggerated air quotes, “Are a show put on to distract the American people from the coming shitstorm that’s gonna engulf the planet. Mark my words, the day’s coming when the good citizens realize that they’re living in a world that’s falling apart at the seams. Besides, most of the villains in here have never killed any innocents. I haven’t, but I know you can’t say the same. So if you think you’re so high and mighty, then think again!” Veritas ended her rant, breathing hard.
Our walk was finished in an odd silence. I felt satisfied and confused and guilty at the same time. I had assumed everyone in here was evil on some level, killers and psychos. But there was more. I had gotten Veritas’ facade to crack; seen who she really was underneath. At the same time, what she had said rung true. The bystander casualties from the heroes clashes were always something whispered about. Groups had tried to form to talk about this, or push for reform. Nothing ever came from them. The citizens never cared, never did anything to stop the violence. The heroes stopped the villains, that’s what was important.
Something inside me burned to tell her more about Milgram and explain, but I kept my mouth shut. Not really the time and place.
I felt sick to my stomach. I was killed in another battle, and nobody cared. I’m just another ignored number, pushed to the side and forgotten. Or I would have been, if I hadn’t resurrected. None of this makes any sense. “Why does no one care? There has to be a reason.” I softly asked Veritas.
“We’ve got some theories. One of the most popular is that the whole thing is a conspiracy, Lady Aegis works with the media and the government to spin a web of apathy over the people. Maybe they really just don’t care, they only want to watch the shiny men and women fight the good fight. The people don’t care if bystanders die because of the heroes, they just blame the villains. Nobody pushes for reform or change, not even any tightening of standards. Some heroes even kill villains, and still nobody says a word. Most of the people in here are truly dangerous, I’m pretty sure half are killers. That doesn’t mean we deserve to die. The only reason I’m in here was because they put a gun in my mouth and told me to blink once to go to jail.” Veritas glanced over at me. “Drugging us indefinitely would be expensive, and someone could rescue us. In here though? Nobody gets out and nobody comes to save the day. They can’t contain some people here through normal means, and killing doesn’t always work either. Frankly, it’s a miracle they got Fubar in here. No, they stick most people in here without a trial, without any representation.”
We turned a corner and I saw the border down the road. Veritas stopped me though. “Before you walk away, remember this. You seem like a nice guy, despite the killer thing. Probably just made a few mistakes. But did anyone give you a fair trial? Did anyone care what happened to you? Do you deserve to be here?”
I stepped away, and moved back to the border. No. No. And god help me, but no. I don’t deserve to be here. Mom didn’t deserve what happened to her either. At that moment, my hatred for Milgram, and whoever attacked her, was acidic. You’re right, you don’t. But we do.
I ignored Milgram for now, and crossed back into the Zone. Before Ricky could say anything, I spoke. “Fly me home, man. I need some time to think.”
He nodded understandingly, and we flew up into the air. I closed my eyes and felt my anger at the world. The sheer lack of justice all boggled my mind. I was even guilty, I had forgotten my purpose in here. To escape. To find the Black Mass that framed me. Revenge.
Ricky placed me on my lawn, and I walked inside. “Why are you here? Why couldn’t you just not exist?” I moaned, needing to express my emotions out loud. Excuse me? I’ve been doing what you couldn’t. Yeah, I might have lost control once in a while, but I’ve killed every threat to us! I was strong when you were weak, and when I found the Rush of death and combat, I wanted more. Maybe I pursued it at the wrong time and place, but I am not going to apologize for being myself. I was a fucking baby who wanted to play around, and enjoy what I discovered was fun. You would’ve done the same in my position.
I grabbed a vase off a small end table and hurled it at the window with all my strength. “YOU’RE WRONG!” I shouted. The destruction felt good, so I threw the end table too. Oh really, I’m wrong. If you’re so perfect, then why the fuck haven’t you shown any wish that what happened at the convenience store hadn’t? I froze, mid swing with a chair at the television.
“What-what do you mean?” I stuttered, dropping the chair. My rage and bile had evaporated. Don’t play ignorant, Alden. You never said, thought, nor in any way wished that the bullet that brought me into the world hadn’t. You have never ONCE expressed any form of regret for getting another chance at life. Not one single fucking time. Deep down, you’re happy I came and you survived.
I dropped down onto my knees and grabbed the threadbare carpet. Oh God no, he can’t be right. I thought to myself. Deep inside me, I knew I was lying. I was happy I wasn’t dead, so very happy to live. I masked this by blaming myself for Milgram, but that wasn’t my fault. I should’ve done… I thought hard. Something different! Tried to explain myself, rather than escaping. Done anything else, fought for forgiveness or anything! I was crying now, and didn’t bother to wipe the tears away. But no, behind all that hatred for Milgram, I was still happy I wasn’t dead. I rolled over on my back and sniffed hard. And even now, I’m still not regretful I’m alive. God help me, but I don’t wanna die. I layed there and cried for a while, wallowing in my guilt and shame.
Milgram, I’m sorry. You’re right. I still didn’t trust him, but ordering and hating Milgram hadn’t helped me. It had only made things worse. If I ever wanted to make some kind of amends for all of this, I needed to try a new tactic with Milgram. If I ever wanted to kill the fucker, the Black Mass, I needed his help. If I ever wanted to do something more to atone, I needed some sort of control. I had to control the monster inside of me, and it wouldn’t be done with yelling and empty threats.
Yeah, man. It’s ok…and stuff. And look, I’m sorry for yelling at you. For the first time, Milgram didn’t sound like a murderously psychotic child. He sounded like a real person.
Next Post
Next post should be up tonight. Thanks for your patience.
Redo 2
I was not a fighter. Every fight that I had gotten into was when Milgram was controlling my body. My reflexes were poor, and I froze when I heard Harsh, like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car.
That was a mistake.
A thin cord wrapped around my neck, encircling it fully. As I stood up and lunged towards the door, it started to constrict. I clawed at it desperately as my skin bled and my chest heaved. I suffocated, and looked around the room. The other man in the room was facing me calmly. He had other loops floating in the air between us.
My head boiled in pain and rage. Black spots filled my vision, and I tried even harder to get my fingers underneath the circle. I failed. I trembled with rage, and lack of oxygen as I thought, Milgram…take them down. With pleasure.
Milgram took control of my body after I collapsed. The loop continued to tighten around our neck, but he didn’t seem to be concerned. I felt the pervasive rush of happiness and pleasure again. The sharp senses assaulted us, along with a new one. We could feel the air around us, every particle. The cord tightened even more, but our neck was like iron now.
We looked up at the man with the cords and shot him a feral grin. With a twist of our shimmering hand, Milgram commanded the air to flow away from his lungs, just as he exhaled. The man’s eyes bugged out. The circle tried to constrict fully, but it was futile. Eventually, he stopped twitching, and we turned our attention to Harsh.
We ripped the loop off and threw it away. “You shouldn’t have done that!” Milgram crowed viciously. He gestured again, intending to suck the air out of Harsh’s lungs when-
Harsh cleared his throat and leaned back. “Now, a brief test,” he raised a single eyebrow. “You passed!”
I was in control of my body again. What the shit Alden! What just happened? I looked around the room. The loop man was standing passively, his cords gone. Milgram was locked away again, without the usual timeout or death. I stared at Harsh.
“You just killed me,” I stated, my mind working furiously.
Harsh was very surprised. “You remember? That’s…unusual. My power allows me to change the future, to put it simply. You don’t remember the first time?” He looked at me quizzically.
“What first time?” At this point, we were both confused. Do you know what he’s talking about? Not a gosh darn clue, buddy.
Harsh’s brow wrinkled. “The first time you came here, I told you to take a cookie. The second time, I told you to take a brownie. You remember the brownie, right?” I nodded frantically.
“So you remember the brownie, and the attack?” I nodded again.
“Yeah that’s right.” I paused. Wait, the attack. “Hey, change the past again.” I asked him.
Harsh’s mouth tightened. “I already did. I assume you didn’t notice anything?”
I shook my head, “Nope. But, I’ve got an idea.” My mind was racing at this point, the attack almost forgotten. “My power only kicks in when I’m dead, so maybe I only remember the futures I die in?” Or when the future changes when Milgram is in control.
Harsh contemplated this, and slowly agreed. “Very well. I must apologize. I test everyone’s powers, but there’re very few people who notice the changes. I assumed you would be no different than the rest. I will not make that mistake again.”
I accepted his apology with a tilt from my head. There was a slightly awkward pause. Veritas stepped out of nowhere, and leaned in to whisper to Harsh. I pretended not to notice, and twiddled my thumbs. She stepped away, and Harsh spoke.
“Something’s come up. You will leave now, Veritas will escort you out,” he said with an air of finality. Veritas opened the door, and I walked out. I followed her down the street and looked back at the house. It was gone.
I shook my head and picked up the pace. Illusionists, man.
“So, why’d you join up with Harsh?” I called out. Veritas glanced over at me with an odd look. “What? I’m just trying to make some conversation here.”
The sound of Veritas’ heels echoed of the trees for a moment, as we strolled in silence. “I rolled with him on the outside. He took over my old gang, and I worked my way up the ladder. They took me a month after Harsh.” She chuckled softly. “I left Boston, ran back to NYC. It took nearly all of the Tactiles, all of the Aegis League ‘heroes’,” she made finger quotations and looked slightly proud and smug, “To bring me down. They had to fly in that FUCKING CUNT,” Veritas yelled that last part, “Lady Aegis, to see through my pictures. Even then, it hurt her, gave her a nosebleed. That’s part of the reason Queen leaves me alone, I’m hell on telepaths.” She grinned at me. “So now, I’m number two in the Harshes.”
“Why’d you do the quotation thing with heroes?” I said.
“That’s what you got out of my Cinderella story? That’s all you have to say?” She seemed surprised.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much it. Why don’t you think the Tactiles and the Aegis League are heroes?” I raised my voice. “Fuck, they threw me in here. They’re the reason I got powers in the first place, but I still think they’re heroes. They put away the-” I stopped talking when I realized what I was about to say. Awkward.
Milgram 