Yesterday, I talked about how I want to divorce my brain. Unfortunately, who knows how long this process can take. In the meantime, I succumbed to my brain’s pressure and started to write Killing Time OST. I’ll most likely post the first chapter next week because tomorrow will be Tiffany’s song and Sunday is Cassidy’s day. Still I thought I’d share a teaser with you.
Like my steampunk chapter, this story took me hostage. So I’ll write the first chapter scribble down a few notes and save it for later. I’ve got a lot of stories piling up in that section of my to-do wall. *sighs*
After a foray into steampunk, here is the teaser of a foray into cyberpunk. Here are the 345 first words:
I straightened at the edge of light, tugging my mid-thigh high boots upward. I loved these boots. I stuck removable stilettos under them when I was on another type of prowl. Tonight, my boots of butt-kicking were heel-less and the sole flexed along my feet’s movements.
In the darkness, I stood almost invisible clad in black extendable Kevlar. No reason not to be safe as houses and sexy as hell. With my hair rolled in a tight bun, I looked like a dominatrix, which was totally my point.
I stretched my arms and legs slowly, then bent over backward until my hand touched the ground. They called it the wheel pose in yoga. I called it “ready to roll”. I unfolded fluidly working my abs to pull me straight. Warm up: check.
Scooting closer to the lit street, I peered at my surroundings to find the best point of entry. I planned everything but the perfect spot to get off the ground. I could have done reconnaissance earlier but I procrastinated.
The street emptied hours ago. Rich neighbourhoods weren’t prone to late night drunks since they were liable to be shot on the spot. In this district, people too rich for their own good abounded, as attested the stony ornamented façades of the houses and the high-tech surveillance.
Only the rich and spoiled could afford the space and luxury of the old buildings. The rest of us were crammed in one room apartments deep in the entrails superscrappers. At least, old buildings were easy to climb.
I spotted a series of imperfections on a wall away from any street light, next to a gutter. Perfect. The only thing I was missing was the appropriate soundtrack. I placed my middle finger on the bone just behind my ear and taped: two long, pause, two short and one long, pause, three short. M-U-S in Morse code. The micro-chip in my brain powered up.
“Welcome to Cyber Radio.” The mechanical announcer’s voice stimulated my auditory neurones directly. Headphones were so passé. “What can we play for you today?”
I will leave you with the one liner for this story:
“While her competition gets nanotechnology muscles and reflexes enhancers, all Lorelei needs to assassinate her target is the micro-chip in her head to play the right soundtrack.”
See you this weekend!