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ok, so here's the concept: its a taking its inspiration from the BHAR album with each chapter relating to a song on the album. For the purposes of posting it as I get bits completed and without putting out huge lengthy posts I'm splitting the chapters up into parts. All I've got so far is "Take a Bow pt.1" which begins setting the scene and explaining some of whats going on in the story's world.
A few warnings: there's some references to terrorism, some really black humour and the main protagonist seems to look suspiciously like matt bellamy....
Anyway, its a first draft of the first thousand words, hope you like it enough to want to read the next section 
If you enjoy this then you might want to check out my blog where I'm posting other (non-muse) works. If you didn't enjoy Knights then you might want to have a look anyway since some of what's up there is very different. 
Quick Links added 15/01/07
For convenience I'm adding links to zips of each chapter as they get completed and added to pfs. Inside the zip the chapter is separated into each part as it was posted here. If you want to read the parts of new chapters you'll have to go through the thread and find it. Hopefully these files will mean people who are new to the forum can get all of the story without searching through.
I will continue to post new parts in the thread
Chapter 1: Take a Bow  17747-take a bow.zip
Chapter 2: Starlight 17747-starlight.zip
Chapter 3: Supermassive Blackhole 17747-supermassive blackhole.zip
Chapter 4: Map of the Problematique: 17747-map of the problematique.zip
Chapter 5: Soldier's Poem: 17747-soldiers poem.zip
Chapter 6: Invincible: 17747-invincible.zip
Chapter 7: In Progress...
1. Take a Bow pt 1
It was the insistent beeping from the infostation that woke me. I reached for the snooze button despite the fact that there wasn’t one, and hadn’t been one for the last two, no, three parliamentary terms. The screen of the infostation had already flickered into life and it was casting an eerie blue glow around the room, projecting shadows as if it were creating patches of darkness. I opened my eyes wider, trying not to look at the screen where I knew the handsome, rugged face of the prime minister would be gazing out across my room. I hated that picture – somehow the eyes seemed to follow you, watching your every move: “Big brother is watching you.” Orwell’s prophecy hadn’t yet come to pass but I knew it was only a matter of time before we had to have webcams linked up to the infostations that were compulsory for all households.
I sat up and turned away from the infostation and towards the window. “Blinds, Open” I commanded. The infostation registered my voice and almost instantly the blinds began to draw back revealing the dusty red-brown Martian landscape. The sky was a clear grey that became a dull white at the horizon. Phobos could be seen setting to the west but Deimos was nowhere to be seen which meant it was on the other side of the planet, out of sight. I must admit that Phobos is one of my favourite things about working here – its orbit takes a mere eleven hours so it crosses across the sky twice a day which is something you’ll never see on earth. Its also shaped a bit like a potato. Today Earth and the moon are clearly visible. Right now the light is perfect for these observations as the tiny sun rises in the east. These kinds of things makes me smile despite the current state of affairs.
I went through to the bathroom to get myself ready to work – after all that was why the infostation wake up call had gone off in the first place. My government needed me to work so my government made sure I got up in the morning. “Sink, Fill,” I said out loud as I sat on my exercise bike and started my daily routine. This routine was extremely important if I was ever going to return to Earth: Mars’s gravity was about a third of that of the Earth so I had to work out hard every day to maintain my muscular strength. The low gravity also meant the sink took forever to fill.
I looked up at the infostation screen that was in the bathroom and changed it over to the morning news – I need to keep up to date on the latest news as part of my work and it makes sense to do it while I exercise. There’s a story about the excavations at the pyramids – another artefact has been found. The news reader interviews some grey coated scientist who explains that every artefact we find brings us closer to understanding its origins, its workings and the civilisation who left it here. That’s part of the reason we’re here – digging for alien technology. Earth is low on resources, particularly energy sources and is hoped that the technology found in Cydonia will hold the key to solving our energy problems.
They show a picture of the artefact – it looks much like the others: a simple box with rounded corners, kind of glassy like a crystal with small sets of squares containing wires inside it. There’s also some runes – no one has any idea what they mean of course. The box fades away to be replaced by the face of the news reader again who explains the suspicions of scientists that the artefact may be some sort of energy device. They’ve said that about all of them but they haven’t been able to harness them yet so we keep digging, searching for more devices. I don’t see why we need to find more though – how will possessing another device, just like the others, help us understand the ones we already have? I sometimes wonder what we’re really looking for.
The screen changes to pictures of one of the most recent attacks to take place on the archaeological sites. They happen every so often – its either workers campaigning for better union rights or the terrorists trying to sabotage our efforts. That’s why I’m here: I’m a law enforcement officer for the Cydonia Excavation Co-operative – the main company working on Mars and the main target of the guerrilla efforts. As usual both the workers and the Faction take credit for the attack and it’s the usual kind of statement too – claims of corruption in the government, that the current policies are reckless followed by the usual demands that the CEC will pay for its “crimes”. The face of the Faction’s spokesperson appeared on screen: he spoke “You’ll bring death and destruction to all that you touch! You must pay! You will beg for forgiveness and even then you will burn in Hell! You’ll burn; every one of you will burn in Hell for your sins!”
I studied that face intently: short dark hair, crooked buck teeth, 5’oclock shadow, his cheeks were sunken and his chin pointed. Most disturbing were his eyes that somehow pierced you – like they could see what you most wanted to hide. He always wore the same clothes too: black shirt, white braces – a symbol of his refusal to conform. He held up his hands as he preached, bringing into view the one ring he wore: urban myth had it that it was a gift from a young girl who left it him before she went on a… a mission. Other myths were more extraordinary – some people believed he stole it from the prime minister’s hand. I didn’t believe any of the stories – I knew that they were just propaganda: the Faction’s efforts to win the hearts of the Martians.
He was not just the spokesperson of the Faction he was its face – and the only public member. Other members stayed strictly underground and if it wasn’t for the hard work of the secret service we wouldn’t catch any of them at all until it was too late and we were taking prisoner pieces of them instead. I won’t tell you what that’s like; needless to say I can’t eat meat anymore.
I pedalled faster as I let out my rage against the face of that man: the man who symbolised the entirety of the ugliness that was the Faction’s terrorist activities. I imagine myself being the one to finally capture him – putting my own bullets through his kneecaps before binding him tightly with plasticuffs ready for his transfer to… interview.
Then this mess would be over and I could go home to Earth.
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i really cant be pissed to read all that atm, maybe i will later
Maybe not, Maybe not.
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I enjoyed that, looking forward to the next part.
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well I've nothing to right now since its the christmas break so I got the 2nd part of Take a Bow done. Its basically more explaining - trying to set out how the world has become how it is and what that means for ordinary people, as well as explaining more about the Faction. Most importantly it helps establish the main themes of the story - paving the way for their later development and exploration.
Take a Bow pt 2
I finished up my morning routine and left for work, being sure to grab my infomobile – a portable version of the infostation. These weren’t compulsory for all Martian’s yet but all the companies insisted that you carry one if you worked for them so effectively everybody had one apart from the tourists and they had to carry their passports anyway. This meant that between them the companies knew where everybody on the planet was at any moment. That is unless you didn’t have your infomobile with you – but that was a breach of worker’s contract so you’d lose your job or if you were a tourist you would face arrest for having no passport.
I couldn’t risk losing my job – it was the company who brought me here and the company who would send me home – I couldn’t afford the flights back to Earth and even if I could, the companies were all tied together closely – if you breached contract with your company they could make it very difficult for you to find employment at another. The companies ruled – they weren’t the government but they might as well have been – they had more power: they had their own police forces, their own spies and small armies; the multinationals had various levels of control right across the world and had been the ones who really spearheaded the expansion into the solar system.
The law didn’t matter – not the law the government set down anyway: the law was enforced by the companies and that meant the companies could dictate their own laws. Soon the companies started working together. Its no secret that they have people inside the government – with the huge power of the companies the government had little choice but to integrate with them. Most people suspect that the puppet masters behind the politics were companies but of course no one said it publicly. No one but the Faction that is – but they said it with bombs.
Before the Faction became so militant I had given thought to joining – I supported their manifesto and knew I had to speak out somehow – do my part for the cause and freedom. But when words failed they turned to violence and that turned me off. I still wanted to contribute to the cause but the Faction’s violence provoked anger on both sides and it wasn’t long before the companies invoked “emergency powers” in order to “protect the rights of the individual and freedom.” Any laws they didn’t dare pass in fear of provoking more rebellion they wrote into the worker contracts and it was only a matter of time before it was too dangerous to speak out against them: If you spoke out you lost your job and all hope of finding another one; then you lost your home because you had no money and soon you were living on the streets – it was only a matter of time until death followed. People who broke their contracts disappeared and then you forgot about them – it was as if they’d never existed.
Some people think, well I imagine some people think – its much too dangerous to say it, that we should be grateful for the Faction and its work towards the cause but I say those people are wrong: the Faction are terrorists, simple as that, and violence only harms the cause.
The Faction says they are fighting for our freedom but we’ve lost our freedom because of them – every attack they make is just another excuse for the companies to tighten their control. I spoke out once, when I still could but after the terrorist attacks I was rounded up with anybody else who the companies had been watching. Then we all underwent Reassignment: at this time companies were unable to simply have us fired, their power hadn’t grown sufficiently enough that they could do that without facing legal consequences so instead they moved us into new positions within the company and rewrote our contracts to enforce compliance upon us. I was moved into a different department and to a lower position – at lower pay of course. Then when my company had the funds and support to set up its own security force I was transferred into the counter-terrorist unit – they thought it ironic that I would have no choice but to shoot down the people fighting for the cause I believed in. It was a suitable punishment that I was unable to escape – all because of those damned worker contracts.
In many ways it suits me – I’m bitterly opposed to the Faction’s methods and am happy to do my part to protect innocent lives. Besides, in time my position might help me find a way to act subversively against my company although the introduction of the infostations and infomobiles are making any chance of that more and more remote.
I had no choice but to pick up my infomobile and leave my home for work as I did every morning. I passed the handsome features of the prime minister on a huge billboard with the words “Working For a Better Tomorrow” emblazoned across the top. The bill board changed into a picture of CEC Security Forces’ logo and the bold statement “Protecting Your Right to Life.” That was some comfort – yes I worked for a corporation that was systematically taking away our freedom but I still did a good job – I protected innocent people from those who the Faction would harm with their reckless guerrilla war.
It wasn’t perfect, it was a compromise – besides things had never been perfect and never could be: not while the threat of terrorism remained and for all their shortcomings the companies had made the world a better place in many ways: they’d helped lift the third world out of poverty, they funded all the cutting edge research, eradicated disease across the world (apart from minor ailments like the common cold or influenza I can honestly say I’ve never seen someone ill) and provided top medical care to even the poorest people for when things do go wrong. It was the company who provided me with everything I ever needed – food, drink, shelter, clothes, entertainment – there was no need for money any more and with it much less crime: if you needed or even just wanted something then you simply applied to your company who would get it for you, although I’ve been waiting for that new couch a while I trust that it’ll be here soon.
In many ways I work for a better world. In many ways I also work for a broken world – ordinary people have no power anymore and no means of getting any – the control of the companies is almost total – it’s just a matter of time before we’re living under a totalitarian society.
If we’re not doing so already.
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been reading it whilst its been a work in progress:P loving it 
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Nice! Really like reading it
Ik denk altijd erg goed na voordat ik iets stoms zeg!
I always think a lot, before I say something stupid!
Its you! 
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cheers, I'm working on supermassive blackhole at the moment (I forgot about starlight...oops...I'll just go back to it later) but its on a rebellious laptop which means I won't be able to post it here for a week..grrr...
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Black Holes and Revelations: Music through words
by zvexmanson
Keep up the good work Mike!
Our sole responsibility is to produce something smarter than we are. Any problems beyond that are not ours to solve...
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Reminds me slightly of Robert Rankin's Armageddon series. They were funny.
I got tired of the first half, infostation was repeated way too many times. But the second half is better. I want to see Invincible - I have visions of a rebellion! Keep it up!
[url=[/url]
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i know the repetition of "infostation" is a little much - but the idea is it intrudes into your reading the same way the device intrudes into the lives of the story's populus. And yeah, invincible is gonna be about rioting, rebellion, etc
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Maleka
55 posts
 - Bankstown, city of tranquilty
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Hmmm....
Nice one....
I guess I know where this story lead into
I drown myself into the endless zone => endlesszone.blogspot.com
2007-2010=> FIGHT!!!!
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muse24
1653 posts
 - Saving the world with christine
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if it wasnt so obviouslys and heavily muse based i would like it
this could be a work of genius
but its gonna be an idea in a forum, which is sad, you write well.
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well i have an original work which was posted here but had to be taken down, one of the reasons being it had nothing to do with Muse, if you want to read it I'll send it you as soon as I can, that goes for anyone else too although I should warn you that some may consider it too graphic.
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I'm quite enjoying this - it has to be a bit descriptive at the beginning to set the scene for the whole story, I'm expecting more action soon.
Not sure about the Robert Rankin comparison though, he is much funnier.
*don`t be afrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidd*
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ok, I know its been a while since I last posted an installment, but don't worry, I've not given up on it or anything. I still haven't done Starlight but the plan for that chapter is that something significant (don't want to give it away yet) will happen which will be the direct cause of what happens next.
Supermassive Blackhole pt 1
3. Super Massive Black Hole
I arrived for work two minutes late. I decided to get to my cubicle as quickly as I could: I headed in through the main entrance and crossed the lobby to the lift, “You’re late,” shouted the receptionist as the lift doors closed, graciously separating us before I had to endure more of an earful. I didn’t want to listen to her nasal tones on top of everything else I would have to endure for being late. I pressed the button for my floor and waited as patiently as I could. Finally the lift came to a halt and the doors parted. I strode out into the open plan office space and started making my way towards my cubicle.
I made it and started up the infostation but no sooner had the monitor fired up, lighting up the desk, than did a shadow fall across it. I heard the cutting tones of the sergeant’s voice before I’d even had time to turn around and face him. “You owe me two minutes,”
“I’m sorry, sir” I replied, keeping my head bowed. Now that I’d turned around I could see three pairs of feet blocking me inside the cubicle. “You know I won’t allow it to happen again, sir,” I begged, knowing it made no difference.
“It’s not the fact you were late, or the fact that you might be late again,” I felt his fingers under my chin, lifting my face up towards him, forcing me to look him in the eye. I felt cold sweat slipping down my brow as he explained “You do understand the… special terms of your contract don’t you?”
I swallowed and felt my voice retreat down my throat so I just nodded in response.
“You’ve been on the fringes of political activity, said things you should have kept to yourself,” He pushed my face away from him before kneeling down and looking up into my face. “You and I both know that the only reason you have this job is so that the company and my superiors can keep a close eye on you. A very close eye.”
The two men who were with the sergeant beckoned at me to stand up while he said “Now, listen carefully, you’re going to follow me, we’re not going to make a scene. We’re going to go downstairs to… discuss a few things…”
I stood up, keeping my eyes towards the floor as they led me towards the lift. “And if you cooperate like a valued employee should then we’ll be able to forget about this whole thing,” he finished with a smile as the lift doors came together, closing with what seemed like a deafening thud – drowned out only by the thumping of my pulse in my ear.
One of the two guards flipped back a hidden panel by the lift controls, revealing a keypad. He punched in several digits and then the lift shot down. We were going downstairs. Everyone who worked here knew what “going downstairs” meant. It meant a trip to the lowest of the basement levels. It meant leaving daylight behind. No one knew what actually happened Downstairs though. It wasn’t as if people never came back – most people did – they just never spoke of what happened. The companies could destroy your life if they wanted and wipe you off the face of the planet and pages of history but sometimes it suited them to keep you around – for some reason it benefited their agendas to keep you working for them or maybe your breach of contract was only minor and they had decided to take pity. Whatever the reason it had to be better than being removed from employment but the mystery surrounding the floor made me suspect that in many ways it might be far worse.
The lift came to a halt and the doors opened to a dark corridor – there was no light at all – not a window to let light in or an electric light to compensate. It was like stepping into a black hole. The sergeant and the two guards led me into the darkness. The lift doors closed behind us, reducing the only source of light to a sliver which then vanished as the lift moved up to another floor, plunging us into oblivion.
I hesitated to walk on but the guards dragged me violently – I stumbled and fell forwards, my face landing on the cold hard floor. I felt hands taking hold of my elbows, lifting me up and pulling me forwards, onwards and further into the darkness. I tried to walk along, to keep up, but I had no idea where we going – every time they turned a corner I lost my footing, or if they had to go up or down some steps I tripped. Despite my best efforts I spent most of the journey being dragged along with my feet flailing behind me, scraping against the stone ground.
Eventually we stopped and they let me fall onto my hands and knees. I felt around cautiously until my hands met a stone wall then I was able to guide myself up onto my feet. We’d been in this darkness for at least twenty minutes – my eyes should have adapted to it in that time: there was only one explanation – there was no light at all, not a single photon.
To the right of me I heard a key being inserted into a lock and turning. I could hear the mechanism click round before the bolt fell away; unlocking what was presumably a door. Through all of this there was no fumbling from the Sergeant or the guards – it was if they could see perfectly well and that the darkness was affecting me and me alone – perhaps they’d drugged me – injected me with something that made me blind! What if it was permanent? I took several deep breaths to calm myself down and to regain some control over myself: no, it was unlikely they’d drugged me, when could they have done it? It was more reasonable to assume that they simply had some sort of equipment to let them peer through the thick dark.
I heard the door opening, a quiet squeak as the hinges were forced to open against their will. Arms took hold of me again and threw me down onto my face. On my way down my hand caught the edge of a doorway: they’d thrown me into the room that had just been opened. I turned to face where I had come from only to be met with a boot colliding with my chest. I turned back away and pulled myself further into the room, away from my attacker.
I soon found the wall – it was barely two metres away from the door. As I picked myself up I heard the door slam shut, to be followed by the sounds of footsteps fading away.
I was alone.
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Ooooo - I like it! Only if there was no light, how did he know it was a corridor when he got out of the lift? *wins award for nit picking*
More more more please
*don`t be afrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidd*
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Well he saw the corridor before the lift doors closed (cutting off the light from inside the lift), I know its a little ambiguous, hopefully I'll clear it up if I ever do a second draft. I'm glad you're enjoying this part but I should warn you....its about to get nasty (maybe....haven't wrote it yet...but planning on writing for an hour or two tonight)
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Strangely, I'm reading a Tom Holt book (Earth Air Fire and Custard) at the mo which is also about being trapped in a too powerful company, only it's in the Rankin styleee so funny rather than dark.
This is the anti matter to it - bring it on!
*don`t be afrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidd*
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This is wicked - really enjoying it! I'm annoyed tht you beat me to doing a similar idea...what's funny is that I keep reading the story like I am watching a film and I keep thinking 'hmmm, I wonder if we could make a short film of this for a laugh'!
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hehe, yeah, one of my other works "confessions" seems totally unsiutable to make into a film so naturally I keep trying to devise ways to make it work. With this there are certain parts that would be difficult to put across as part of a film - there's a lot of explanation and a lack of dialogue (at the moment) so explaining about the companies, etc could be difficult. Also the section that is entirely in the dark would be very difficult to do - I wouldn't want to resort to using some corny night vision effect although I think the use of sound at this part could be really effective. But working through all those sorts of problems would be half the fun of making it into a short, and not only that the techniques and devices that would need to be devised would probably help it stand out at a festival. Yay! for art house cinema!
Update: 0100 10th Jan
Anyway, as promised, here is some more, this is hot off the press so there's probably some mistakes and some bits that don't quite make sense. Rest assured that this probably isn't the end of this section and certainly isn't the end of our time in the Blackhole.
Supermassive Blackhole Pt 2.
It was isolation like I’d never known it. No light so I couldn’t see anything. No sound – nothing to hear. Nothing to taste, touch or smell but myself and the room around me. It was as I had been removed from my senses – and I might as well have been, they were useless to me in this tiny prison. For the first few minutes I was able to accept my predicament – I could appreciate my lack of surroundings, my isolation from distraction and take solace in my own company. True silence is something we rarely get to experience in our world of machines and cities – there’s always some sort of noise, a hum from some machine, the droning of distant traffic but not down here, not in this cell. There was only total, absolute silence. It was blissful.
With time the bliss transfigured into eeriness and the longer I had to endure the nothingness the more I wanted to hear something. I began to breathe harder – simply so I could hear each breath of air entering and leaving my body. I paced up and down the very short length of the cell so I could hear my footsteps. I began to feel around my cell, working out how large it was, where the door was, if there were any objects in there with me (there weren’t, the cell was completely empty). I was able to work out that the walls were made of what seemed like smooth concrete, as was the floor. The ceiling however seemed to be plastic tiles. I couldn’t find the door, despite feeling along the perimeter of the room several times – I concluded that it must have been part of the wall – built in so there was no perceivable join between them.
I sat down in the corner of the cell, just trying to keep my mind on various things to keep me sane. How long were they going to keep me here? People always came back “from downstairs” – how long would it be till I went back? I reasoned that it couldn’t be too long – surely they’d need me back at my job before too long? I’d never had to fill in for anyone who’d gone downstairs – would they get someone to fill in for me? Probably not, I thought. What about food? Would they let me grow hungry or would they bring me something to eat. Hopefully I wouldn’t be down here long enough to need food.
I ran through the events of the morning through my head – the reason I’d been late. I had been certain that no one from the company had seen me, that my encounter and participation in the attempted liberation of that worker had been completely secret. I don’t even know why I did it – he got caught in the end anyway, despite my efforts. He got caught like anyone else – there was nothing you could do against the companies. They’d always catch up with you sooner or later. I’d never done anything like that since my transfer to Mars since I’d come to believe that it was pointless, and too dangerous but there was something about that man, the way he spoke, his deep and undying love for his family, I don’t know what it was but there was something that made me want to protect him – despite the fact that my overriding duty by contract was to apprehend him.
I put my job, and therefore my life, at risk for a complete stranger and I had no idea why. Now I was paying the price for my irrational actions: sitting alone in the darkness as the loneliness began to choke my spirit and slowly suck the life out of me. I knew that the man wouldn’t come to rescue me as I had done for him even if he could. I hadn’t exactly done him a favour – in fact whatever punishment he had to endure would probably be worse because of my actions. Fighting against the companies was futile – they were all-powerful and could put down any disturbance in an instant. The justice they served was swift and harsh enough to make sure that almost all future disturbances were put down before they even began.
I felt like all I could do was to keep my head down, obey my company and the contract I had with them and ultimately simply live out my days in relative peace. Life under the stranglehold of the companies was far from perfect – but surely it was better than the consequences of speaking out against them?
And then I understood my punishment – it became clear to me why I was sitting alone in this minute prison devoid of anything other than the sounds and smells of my own existence. It was a mind game – they were demonstrating to me how powerful they were – showing me just how tight their grip over my life was. The darkness, the oblivion, it was what I could become if they so chose. My life belonged to them – everything I saw or heard I experienced because they let me experience it. They were showing me how easily they could take the world away from me – and me away from the world.
It was clear why I had to be in this room: inside the cell I had two choices – I could use my head, think and work through what had happened until I came to the conclusion that they were omnipotent and I was nothing more than a pawn with the sole purpose of following their will. Most importantly they wanted me to come to the conclusion that I and everyone else were powerless against them. Alternatively I could go insane in the darkness.
Anyone who was brought down here would reach the ultimatum the company dictated eventually – it was only a matter of time before they hit upon the chain of thoughts that would lead them to the horrifying truth that they were nothing under the shadow of the companies. That is, of course, if they didn’t go mad instead.
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Rushed straight over to read this as soon as I saw it and wasn't disappointed - keep it up 
Spookily, in my book the hero found himself almost trapped in the Land of the Dead but escaped at the last minute by using his Acme Portable Door which he had rolled up in a bank vault there (yes, it IS a wierd book)
*don`t be afrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiidd*
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your weird books sounds amazing - acme portable door you say? fantastic!
more Knights coming soon...
Update: Thursday 1500
Finished Supermassive Blackhole now, this last part has some weird ideas in it, I don't know if they're actually scientifically possible but this is a work of fiction anyway so who cares?
here it is:
Supermassive Blackhole Pt.3
I don’t know how long I was in there but eventually I grew used to the silence and the darkness to the point where even my breathing seemed to loud. Then there was a deafening sound – an explosion or something, for a brief second I thought “This is it, they’re gonna blow me up,” before I realised that the sound was some sort of intercom system. A voice boomed out all around me, surrounding me, deafening me, pressing in on me and smothering my senses.
“IT HAS COME TO OUR ATTENTION THAT THE TERMS OF YOUR EMPLOYMENT REQUIRE CLARIFICATION,” the sheer volume of the voice made me writhe in agony, the timbre of it cut deep into my ears so painfully I thought that they must have been bleeding. I put my hands over my ears but it was no good – the sound wasn’t even muffled, it just penetrated straight through. I felt my bones quake and my teeth rattle, the pressure pressed against the insides of my eyes which ached and throbbed, like they were going to implode. My muscles quivered and grew tense, tendons pulled and pulled, stretching, I could feel the bones creaking, and being twisted by the force of the muscles I seemed to have lost all control over. How were they doing this? Was it just the volume of the voice?
“UNDER THE TERMS OF YOUR CONTRACT IT IS NECESSARY FOR YOUR POSITION TO BE ON FILE DURING YOUR WORKING HOURS,” then my muscles relaxed and I collapsed to the floor, I lay there prostrate as the voice continued. “DUE TO PREVIOUS ACTIVITIES OF A NATURE DEEMED UNSATISFACTORY TO THE PROGRESS AND GROWTH OF OUR ORGANISATION THAT HAVE BEEN COMMITTED BY YOU, WE WISH TO KNOW OF YOUR WHEREABOUTS DURING ALL WORKING HOURS,” I crawled into the corner of the room and buried my head deep into it, curling up into a ball to get away from the noise.
“YOU WILL TELL US WHY YOU WERE TWO MINUTES LATE. UNDER EMPLOYEE GUIDELINES IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU SET ASIDE ENOUGH TIME SO THAT YOU ARRIVE THIRTY MINUTES EARLY…” the voice rumbled on, shaking the room, I screamed to try and drown it out but it was no good.
“…. AND SO IN ORDER TO CLARIFY THE TERMS OF YOUR CONTRACT, I SHALL NOW READ IT TO YOU…” they were trying to break me – the contract was over four thousand words long – I would be listening to that voice for a long time – and every second would be agony. From what I could tell there were various frequencies mixed in with the voice that would make certain parts of my anatomy resonate, causing me pain. I had found out about the resonance torture when the research paper ended up on my desk by accident, I chose to ignore it then. Now I only wished I could ignore it.
The pain was unbearable, I begged and begged for it to end but to no avail, not until the final word of the contract was read did the noise subside to be replaced by a silence that was now so strange, so eerie, that I wished for the return of the voice. I moved out of my corner and back into the room, sighing with relief that I’d survived the ordeal and thinking I would soon be out of this hell hole.
I took to my feet and staggered a little before I got my balance, I steadied myself against the wall and edged my way around to where I thought the door would be – I still couldn’t find it, I figured I was going to in here a little longer than I hoped.
My feet knocked against something that clattered as it slid across the stone floor, I instinctively looked down but of course I saw nothing through the thick darkness. I knelt down and felt around until my hands found something made of cold metal. I moved my hands over it, trying to work out what it was – a plate! That meant there might have been food on it before I kicked it. I explored a little further out until I found a cup of water (thank God I hadn’t knocked that over – how long would it be until I got another chance to drink something?) and a soft roll of bread. I ate and drank quickly, I hadn’t realised how hungry or thirsty I had been until that first drop of water touched my lips.
I wondered how the meal, if you could call it that, had got in my cell – I hadn’t heard anybody. I concluded that they must have slipped in while the voice was playing, when I had no chance of hearing anything at all over the roaring words of my contract. Something else struck me too – if I was being given a meal it meant I was probably staying for a great deal while longer, and if they were always going to deliver it under a blanket of noise, then I would have to undergo the resonance torture again. With this in mind I saved two small pieces of bread to stuff in my ears – it wouldn’t protect me against the pain caused by the resonances but it might help to make the volume of the sound more bearable.
I tested out the idea to make sure I had enough bread to form a half decent plug but no sooner had I stuffed the first piece into my ear did I feel a thump across my chest, I groaned with pain as another blow landed on my shoulder – there was still someone in here! I had no idea where the next blow was coming from so it was impossible for me to protect myself. Blow after blow slammed into my body, beating me to the ground. Once again I crawled to the corner for shelter and protection but the blows just kept coming. I felt hands against my face, in my ears, pulling out the pieces of bread. I held onto what I had in my hand only to have my fingers prised open.
I subdued and let the guard take the bread, he finished beating me around some more before I heard the door unlock and the guard leave. There was a second guard outside the cell – I heard them mumbling something but what they said I don’t know and at the time I was in condition to care. I shook in my corner, my arms, chest and back burning from the pain.
Then I think I passed out.
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Some pretentious stuff there. Classic Muse fan
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Ooooh interesting stuff. You must continue!
Leeds Festival, 06
Manchester MEN 10th, 06
Manchester MEN 11th, 06
Nottingham Arena, 06
Wemberleeeey , 07
Marlay Park, Dublin, 08
V Festival 08
Chris and Moz you guys are awesome!!!
Melissa...
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musehater :
Some pretentious stuff there. Classic Muse fan
you're called musehater, you've made one post (that post), wow I feel so honoured.
and you clearly don't actually know what pretentious means, I've been writing for years, there's no pretense involved at all, nor am I pretending to believe the points that it puts forward, I do agree with them. Finally I'm doing this for my own amusement, not so I can pretend to be a writer.
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