Ashlyn Chronicles 2: 2288 A.D.: A Time Travel Sci-Fi Fantasy (18 page)

Ash awakened hours later to a claw cutting into her leg. Though it stung heavily, the memory of it faded when she looked up and saw the face of a mutant staring back at her.

Ash bolted upwards, but was jerked back. Lifting her head, she saw that the mutants had laid her out, spread-eagle. Her wrists and feet were bound by ropes to four eyelets inset into a stone slab. She was lying on a sacrificial alter, atop a pyramid.

An ornamented male mutant gave her a fanged, snarling growl and then walked around her, the nails of his clawed hand scraping across her skin.

During the night, her exhaustion profound, she had lost consciousness and they had found her. Her mind was reeling trying to comprehend all that had happened. She chastised herself for being captured.

Seeing that she had finally awakened, the mutant turned away and raised a clawed fist into the air. In response, tens of thousands of mutants, who had gathered around the base of the pyramid, howled in excitement. They were looking forward to taking their revenge.

Grabbing Ashlyn’s breast, the mutant squeezed it harshly, shaking it for the crowd to see. The sharp points of his claws cut into her, drawing blood. Clicks and howls resounded throughout the city.

Ash fought back a scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. The mutant circled around her, going to the other side. His fingers ran down the length of her arm, down her shoulder, and over top of her breast. He continued moving lower, down the center of her belly until the point of his nail was moving through the light patch of hair below her bellybutton.

With a wide grin, he took a single finger and ran it down her inner thigh and down her leg as he moved to the end of the alter.

Walking up the steps of the alter, he stood tall between her spread legs. Staring down at her, he thrust a ceremonial knife high into the air for all to see. The response from the mutants below was thunderous, boisterously encouraging him to violate her.

A ray of bright sunlight reflecting off the serpentine blade, caught Ashlyn in the eye, making her wince. Ash struggled, wriggling to escape her bonds. The mutant snarled in warning.

Kneeling, he looked down at the thousands of mutants gathered around the base of the pyramid. They’d gone silent with anticipation. He raised the knife high, letting it hover above Ashlyn’s belly.

A horn blew. The moment of their revenge had arrived. Seeing his intent to violate her, and that it was only to happen after she was dead—Ashlyn screamed, calling upon the anger she felt to give her access to the full powers within. The call came too late.

The mutant brought the knife down, plunging it deep into her belly. Ash screamed at the top of her lungs, the pain forcing tears from her eyes. The mutant put his hands inside her belly and tore out her child—holding up the fetus of her unborn son for all to see.

Ashlyn’s rage consumed her. She wanted to kill them all, burning them torturously. Letting out a guttural scream of anger, she called upon the fire within.

The anger, fear and scream awakened her from the depths of the nightmare.

Her hands were on fire, the vines in front of her in flames. The tears in the dream were real, her heart aching desperately. Though it had only been a nightmare—her subconscious mind had reacted to her thoughts as though they were real.

Howls sounded. The mutants were coming for her. Though she knew not which, whether it be the scream, the fire, or both—she had given away her location. Ashlyn had no idea how long she’d slept, but she took comfort in seeing that it was still dark.

Letting the fire burn as a distraction, Ash used the vines at her back to scale the wall. As she climbed the ancient battlement and onto one of the wall’s crenels, she saw that the wide walkway at the top was unused and heavily overgrown. Ash started running hard to the east, distancing herself from her hiding place.

As the minutes passed, she occasionally stopped to peer over the wall and gather information. She saw roving patrols searching every corner; groups of sentries at the entrance to every structure. Every mutant in the city was looking for her.

Twenty minutes later, starting to feel secure in the distance she had covered, Ash slowed.

When she stopped to take a quick glance over the wall, she was stabbed in the shin by a metal rod protruding out of an overturned stone block. Kneeling, she discovered that the block was buried beneath a covering of ivy leaves and vines. The surprise came when she ran her fingers over the steel rod and found it had fluted edges,
Rebar? Cement? The stone is made from cement?
Ash shook her head in disbelief.
It doesn’t make sense.

When her fingers found the squared corner of a thick metal plate, she ripped the foliage away, uncovering it. Though too dark to read, she could feel raised lettering. Lighting a small flame in her hand, no bigger than that of a single match, Ash held it next to the bronze plate. It read, “The Pyramid of Khafre. Stop #4 on your Greatest Wonders of the World Tour as seen from the Great Wall. Proudly brought to you by Disney Theme Parks.”

It’s a damned amusement park. It’s all fake.
She now had her reason for the diversity of structures. Disney had brought all of the world’s greatest wonders together in one place, replicating them as a tourist spot for the masses to enjoy.

Ashlyn laughed at herself as she thought back to the mountain. She’d known it looked familiar. It was the Matterhorn, the flagship centerpiece to the Disney name. Had it been a different time, a different world, Ashlyn too would have enjoyed visiting the park.

“Disney? Dis?” Ashlyn remembered the holo that Siri had shown her about the mutant war. She’d explained that the war had come to a sudden and unexpected end, as the mutants disappeared without a known reason from the city of Dis.

Ashlyn now had her reason for why she was still in this time period. The nexus had one more job for her.

Closing her palm, Ash killed the fire that burned. Rising, she took a peek over the wall. A security patrol was standing below her, looking up. They’d found her.

The next thing she knew, she was tumbling over the wall. One of the tracking pets had spotted her and pounced on her from behind. As she lay on the ground, lapsing into unconsciousness, she saw the evil, grimacing faces of the mutants standing over her.

Groggily, Ash awakened to the sound of mutants howling. Her eyes fluttered open to see the sun beating down on her. Unable to endure the stark brightness, she turned aside. The world around her spun, her head pounding in pain from having hit the ground. In her semiconscious state the visuals around her held little meaning. It was like pieces of an abstract puzzle that her mind couldn’t put together.

She could feel the radiant heat of the sun-heated stone beneath her back. She felt the sting of a claw cutting her leg. Though she was unfocussed, Ashlyn recalled the nightmare she’d had, where she’d been taken captive and held prisoner atop a pyramid. When she realized that she was lying spread-eagle, her wrists and feet bound by ropes to the corners of the stone slab, the memories came into focus. This was the dream she’d had, only it hadn’t been a dream. It had been one of her visions, a warning of that which was to come.

Like before, one of the male mutants was walking around her, his clawed hand scraping along her skin, a seductive smirk dancing on his lips.

When she remembered the knife plunging into her belly, Ash struggled to free herself, a scream accompanying her effort. The mutant gave his bloodthirsty smile, following it with a long howl to those watching below. In a display of his dominance over her, he grabbed Ashlyn’s breast harshly and shook it, making it wobble for the other mutants below to see. The sharp points of his claws cut into her, drawing blood. Tens of thousands of mutants howled and clicked in response, encouraging him.

Every detail was exactly the same as the vision had shown her.

The mutant continued his walk around her, until he was standing between her spread feet. Climbing the steps of the alter, he knelt and positioned himself between her legs. On his knees, he looked down at the throng of mutants that had crowded around the pyramid, filling the city proper. No one dared miss the event. They all wanted to see her die a torturous, degrading death. A death befitting an enemy who had taken so many lives.

As was customary treatment for those being sacrificed, the mutants would watch their priest violate her. The only question seemed to be, would he do so while she was alive or after she was dead? The decision was theirs to make. A horn blew, calling them to attention.

Seeing the readiness of their priest to take Ashlyn, they howled.

Raising the knife high into the air, letting it hover over Ashlyn’s belly—he waited for their answer.

The mutants put their fists high in the air, an emulation of their priest holding the knife. The horn blew again, calling for their vote. As one, they brought their hands down, emulating his thrust of the knife into her. It was unanimous; she would die before he violated her.

Their decision brought an evil grin to the priest’s face. It was the answer he had wanted.

Ashlyn’s mind was hazy, unfocussed. The concussion she’d sustained was blocking access to her powers.

Speaking in his native tongue, the priest gave a series of clicks and growls. The words were ceremonial, a required preface to his actions. The mutant’s muscles tensed as he arched his back and lifted the knife higher, preparing to plunge it into her belly.

Picturing the horrifying, unforgettable memory of what the mutant had done to her unborn child in the vision—Ashlyn surrendered herself to the malevolent minds of her enemy. Only the darkness had the power to save her child.

Seizing control, Ashlyn’s eyes turned black as the darkness consumed her. With crushing forcefulness, it threw her into an abyss, a place without color, shape or substance. A place where cognitive thought had no cohesion or grasp upon reality. She was alone, powerless, voiceless—floating in a void of nothingness. A place where insanity was ones only ally.

Her body now belonged to the darkness. She was theirs to use, her godlike powers theirs to command.

Ashlyn’s black eyes locked upon the hovering knife. She gave a smirking, wicked grin—following it with an eerie, haunting laugh that was like none the priest had ever heard before.

The priest was taken aback by her lack of fear and unrestrained composure. It was not the humiliating, degrading death that he’d wanted her to have, and it enraged him. Determined to make her death be a painful one—with all his strength, he brought the knife down, thrusting it into her.

Ashlyn laughed again, for the point of the blade had come to a stop a half-inch from her belly. The darkness had channeled the gravitational waves, forming them into an impenetrable protective barrier around her.

Ashlyn watched, amused—as with a strained growl, the mutant put his weight atop the knife, trying to force it down. Distracted, the priest didn’t notice that an icy wind had begun swirling around the alter.

“By your own hand, you will die,” said a thousand haunting, echoing voices speaking through Ashlyn. Though her words held no meaning to him, the sounds of so many voices talking at once, scared him. He pulled back, wanting to flee, but his legs wouldn’t move. His hands shook as he fought against an invisible force that was turning the knife in his hands, pointing the blade inward.

He called out, shouting guttural, clicking noises to those watching below—asking for help. His plea went unanswered. The mutants, watching the ceremony, were unsure of what to do. By law they were forbidden to step foot on the structure, only their priest was allowed to do so. Not one of them wanted to offend the god to whom the sacrificial offering was being made.

His call for help was his last cognitive thought as the darkness captured his mind. Like Ashlyn, his eyes turned black.

Calmly rising, the priest stepped down from the alter, his unblinking eyes frozen in a dead stare. Walking to the edge of the stairs for all the gathered crowds to see, he came to a stop, holding the blade of the knife pointing toward himself. Motionless, he waited for the next command.

The ropes around Ashlyn’s hand and feet erupted into flames, instantly burning away. Ash sat up and swung her legs around, letting them dangle off the side of the alter. Tipping her head down, her black eyes turned upon the priest, and with nothing more than a thought, she commanded the mutant to plunge the blade of the knife into himself, just above the pubic bone.

The crowd of mutants below howled. Growling, resonant shrieks filled the mutant city.

With his hands wrapped around the handle of the knife, the darkness commanded the mutant to pull the knife upwards, slicing his abdomen open. The blade didn’t stop until it reached his sternum. The priest never called out, never made a sound.

The darkness then released his mind so that he could behold his own handiwork. His shock at seeing how he’d gutted himself was short-lived, as his heart slowed to a stop and he fell forward, dead. His body tumbled down the steep stairs, his followers grunting in horror.

Ashlyn stood and walked to the edge of the stairs. Spreading her arms wide, the sky instantly darkened as ominous, churning clouds formed. Deep rumbles within the clouds shook the ground as lightning flashed within.