Prompt: A giant black monolith came out of a portal in the sky and stayed there as the portal closed, hovering in midair. Scientists tried analyzing it to no avail, and nothing could damage it. It became a tourist attraction, but when you visited it, it started reacting.
Families walked around it, children were crying and laughing, other people were sitting on the stone benches surrounding the monolith. I read online that touching it was like touching ice. So when my friends decided to take a trip here, I accepted and broke off from the group soon after. My fingers tingled at my sides, and I slowly raised my opened palm to the black, sleek surface. As if I was going to touch something red hot, I gradually moved my palm forward, inch by inch, until I was touching it and noticed it wasn’t like ice, but it was chilly.
When I tried to pull my hand away, it wouldn’t move, wouldn’t budge, it was as though it was super-glued to it or somehow had become an extension of it. Out of instinct, I put my other palm to it to give myself more leverage, but quickly my other hand became latched, too. I didn’t want to cause a scene, didn’t want to alarm anyone or mess up their time, so I cursed under my breath and continued to pull my hands free.
I stopped when soft blue lines rose from the blackness like they were pushed up from underwater. They outlined my hands and filled underneath my palms with a blue light. Before I realized what was happening, my hands sunk into the blueness and something inside was pulling me deeper. I, now, started to scream for anyone to help, for someone to call the police, but no one had enough time to even pick up their phone, not enough time to even run over and grab me, before I was pulled into monolith.
I drifted in a dark place as blue lines jutted and shot from one edge of the abyss to the other. Tiny blue dots appeared where they ended. The darkness began to lighten, revealing a spider-webbing pattern stretching over the seemingly endless place. I reached and touched one and overlapping images bombarded my mind: Black monolith in the park— blue line shooting through space— black monolith rising from red sands— blue line shooting through space— black monolith breaking through ice— blue line shooting through space— the lines crisscrossing in space, overlapping, forming— a hexagonal opening in the center of the solar system— a guttural, deep groan shakes the lines— the opening fills with blue— a silhouette appears within, moving, coming—
Blood spurted from my nose and I became lightheaded, my vision blurry. I shake my head, clearing my sight, and wiped the blood on my sleeve. Waves of terror crash over me as I realize what I had done, what was to come…
I had awoken our monolith, which in turn woke the others.
They were creating a network, an opening, to summon something, something that would bring an end to all we know and ever would know.
Read my previous prompt, “Paperwork of the Afterlife.”
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Micah Castle 