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Thursday, May 24, 2012

The Child: Entry 30


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The Beginning:



Previously on The Child:



Vertigo shook through my legs up to my head. I struggled to keep a foothold when the doors to the small room closed. Ville pushed me into a corner up against some steel and wooden paneling. He had one of his hands on my chest to continue to push me backwards as the other hand was on my left shoulder to hold me back. He looked deep into my eyes with great concentration and seriousness but I was trying to keep my feet on the ground because it felt as if I was falling.

'Stop shaking! I’m not going to hurt you Emery.' I looked down to my legs to see them in the oddest of positions.

'It's not that Ville. What’s happening outside this room?' Ville loosened his grip that was on my clothes and he eased out his tense muscles as he took a few steps away from me.

'Were on an elevator Emery, sit down if you cant keep your foothold.' I did just that. I moved a little out from the corner I was in and sat with my legs crossed and my back leaning against a wall.

'And what an elevator?' Ville laughed to himself and scratched the back of his head.

'Really? Were you born in an Amish village? Well, just imagine a room that can move up and down vertically to transport someone to other floors, just like stairs but you don't have to move at all.' Made sense to me. I nodded my head to him and he nodded back. 'Well I see that you are starting to get curious about Delacroix's Cube, to be honest I expected that to happen on the first night.' I looked down to notice that I had my hand in my pocket wrapped around the cube. Ville crouched down to my level to look at me. 'You can take it out of your pocket now, nobody can be a threat now.' I took my hand out of my pocket and the cube in hand to unclench my hand to let Ville see the cube. 'It’s an amazing thing Emery, the cube. It can do so many things, it has so much potential.'

'Like what?' I asked. Ville shook his head.

'I’m not an expert on this, my father can explain it to you.' I shook my head as I looked down; it always seemed to be something like that, like Ville couldn't tell me himself. Like he was trying to protect me but was willing to let others reveal what he wont with no problem. I looked at the box in my hand and it grew heavier as it seemed to crawl its way to make its size bigger. Something like the roots that I have seen several times in the past but they were the same kind of material that the parts they were made out of; they pushed under and over other roots to just make itself flat again then continue the same process. The box grew inch by inch to stop around to have a six-inch circumference and at least three inches of height in the shape of an octagon. The top of the box was slanted upwards to make it look like some miniature gazebo.

With a gazebo in mind, the walls of the cube were made of some rich looking dark wood looking to have many whittled figures and writing into the direct surface while little pieces of gold decorated various corners and straight lines within the wood. The 'roof' of the box was made out of something completely different though. Some bright but natural looking grey filled the every other section, looked like metal but felt incredibly softer. Many--at least what it looked like to me--squiggly lines and triangles circled around the roof till it reached the tip. It was the art of some incredibly talented artist that I would love to personally meet. 

The box was odd as soon as you looked at the other every other piece of the box because they were not there to enable you to look directly inside of it. They looked like gears as I remembered that it said in the newspaper I have read many years ago but they weren't your typical gears. The gears within the box were a solid white having more curved corners than you typically would see in something metal--it looked as if they were made my hand as well. They didn't shine themselves but the inner walls shined greatly whenever light entered the box. The inner walls of which were a glossy dark red like that of blood with several more figures being painted into the surface in black. I couldn't help but to be amazed at the craftsmanship of the box but as the seconds past I could only assume that this was no work of an ordinary man. I looked back up to Ville to see his gaze fixed on the box as well, when he noticed that I was looking at him he cleared his throat and nodded at me.            

'Nothing else could compare into what was put into that little box, I once knew the man that put all of his time to make that box. Sadly, he died but I vowed to him to help his son to continue in his footsteps since the young boy was born, you've met him too, just without either of you knowing. Remember the old man that we wheeled into town? He is that exact same man.' Something was up and things were odd, I couldn't understand how that Ville had outlived the maker of this box and his son without a single wrinkle upon his face. One could only figure that it had to do something about his process of 'Immaculation'.

'How the hell did you manage to do that Ville?' He smiled at me like he always does.

'I am a very old man Emery. I have lived many years that a dozen of men’s lifetimes could only match what I have experienced.' I shook my head to him again.

'And how do you manage to do that Ville? There’s no way in which you could do anything like that? I want answers Ville. Take me out of this darkness you wrapped around me and tell me what is really going on.' I yelled

'Emery.' Ville paused. 'This is something that no one could just simply explain but to experience it by themselves and I don't want to force something like that on you, it would make you an entirely different person. It changes people. You no longer wonder if you will die the next day but to only wonder how you can fill your never ending cravings. This isn't something you can just do like getting out of bed.'

'Ville. You aren't answering my question.'    

'I know, I know. I’m just trying to find the words for it.' The elevator made a ding and Ville slammed his hand on one of the buttons then crossed his arms. 'Throughout this city, there is an old story of a man named Helerbroiga. Now he was one of the few prestigious men that constructed this city around us. Now the tale talks about the man’s ambitions and how that since the day was born, he wanted to be known centuries upon centuries of his death. Now that obviously happened but the main question is how?'
    
'This man was born in a rather small village and his father was known as the architect of the village. He planned out everything on how the village was supposed to look like to the very T. Not a single walkway was placed until they received this young boys fathers permission. As time passed, this little boy was no longer some child but a magnificent man that assumed his fathers role and enhanced it greatly. He reached up to a rather large stature that neighboring villages wanted him to do the same thing to theirs but he always refused. Not out of pride but out of respect to his own hometown that he lived and grew up in. Because of this, the village grew faster as each day passed. The people figured out that since they couldn't get him to build them a home in their own village, they decided to move out from where they lived to become a resident of the village this man lived in. Business grew up to the point that this little village that had only a few hundred residents to a massive city. Later on he aided others to be like him so they could assist with the city. That is now the city that we live in and because of his ambitions, he will be remembered forever. This tower that we are in is in fact named after him.'

'So what are you saying Ville?' I asked.
'Immortality Emery, I am talking about immortality.'


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