Rachel Winters

hi i'm rachel, i like to get spooky.

[rachelwinters666]

The Flesh Prison

She stood within a prison of flesh. All around her loomed pillars of meat and bone. For as long as she could remember this was her home. Her jail cell. Finite corridors of sinew and muscle pulsing with life. And while these halls of blood and meat were finite, they felt endless.

One weary step forward and the flesh prison shudders. Her limbs tremble as meat and blood shake all around her. A second weary step forward and the entirety of her world pulses like a straining heart. The din of blood pounding behind her eyes and inside of her ears. She traces bloody fingers across the aching meat walls. Veins pulsing taut and blue just beneath the translucent sheen of skin. Everything's sticky. A viscous glimmer of sweat dampens every corner of this jail. The sweet sour stench of muscle fibres twitch under her finger tips. The floor beneath her bare feet gently pulses. A heartbeat permeates this entire complex of skin and bone. It's a soft but persistent beating, blood being pumped to every surface of this place like a macabre rhythm. The unending beating of time, a drumming of flesh and gore under her. This place is claustrophobic. She feels the ruddy red ceiling pressing down on her. She is being crushed by sinuous fibres and clustered nerve ends. Hulking beef presses against her body. She can feel the firm muscled walls of this place push in against her naked frame. Still, she continues pressing forward. Each foot step upon bloody slabs of steak. Each breath twisted with the odours of blood and sweat. Every thought weighed down upon by wretched flesh.

A monstrous and heavy breath rattles across her spine. The hot wind of agoraphobic dread. She cannot escape. She will never be free of this flesh prison. This horrendous jail of insidious meat and bloody despair her eternal home. He sits up straight and cracks his knuckles. He stares down hopelessly at worn weathered hands. He leans back in his chair and stares into nothingness. He runs his gnarled fingers through his long grey beard. Before lowering his haggard face into his hands. “My flesh prison.”

[rachelwinters666]

Ration Chips

It's grocery day and I'm up at 4AM to get in line. Parliament's enacted some new rules and I want to make sure I don't break them. The newly codified law insures the citizens of this nation are always fed and never hungry.

I step into the queue and patiently wait my turn. It's early but there's probably fifty people ahead of me. There will probably be bean rations and turnip rations, but fifty people ahead… I might be too late to get a water ration. Good thing I saved some of yesterday's. I might have enough to boil today's meal and just maybe have a mug to drink afterwards.

The queue moves forward at a decent clip. Everyone seems to have their ration chips in order and the robot cops aren't causing trouble for anyone. More new rules from Parliament state that robot cops need to "find" three criminal acts a day or they get their own rations cut. This means that the less savoury members of the police force will sometimes "invent" crimes to ensure they meet their quota.

I snap back to reality when I realise I'm next in the queue. The automated walkway rattles as it slides me up to the rationmaster. "Please present your ration chips citizen." With a slight tremor in my hand I place down ration chips for one bean ration, one turnip ration, and one water ration. I smile a weak smile when the machine beeps three times. They have water. I might be able to bathe today.

I hurriedly bag my beans, turnip, and water pouch into my bag and move decidedly from the automated treadmill. As I turn the corner to walk home, I am stopped by one of the robot cops.

"Present your bag for inspection."

I start to shake as I stare up at the impassive metal "face" of the robot cop. He towers over me standing at - best estimate - 213cm tall. His uniform clad in blue and white armour, the hydraulics that power his limbs loudly expel steam as he moves.

I break my eye contact and pass him my bag of rations. Without even examining them he informs me that I have broken law "27BX Paragraph 7 Delta" and that my rations will be confiscated. This is a "minor infraction" and I am free to go, but I will not be getting my rations back.

Without making eye contact, and knowing full well that law "27BX Paragraph Whatever" doesn't really exist, I smile and nod and quickly step away.

As I walk home I ruminate on the meal and bath I will miss out on today. I still have a bit of water at home so I won't go thirsty at least.

When I get home I stare out the window of my 50th floor apartment. I cast my gaze over the rows and rows of dilapidated buildings to the faint glow on the horizon. A pale orange light that feels kilometres away. I wish I lived there. I wish I was one of those people. But unfortunately I am one of these people.

And I would damn every one of these people in order to be one of those people.

[rachelwinters666]

Catch Your Ghost

"I'll sleep when I'm dead" you say as you lay in your bed slowly dying. You still have a few months before death takes you and you are so so sick, but you still need to work and pay rent even though the cosmic door is about to close behind you.

But the latest in future technology is here. Worldwide Capital Networking Solutions PLC LLC has created the "Soul Box." The idea of a spirit has long been a fixture in religious texts, but what if capital backed science made it a reality. You'd never have to die no matter how sick you got. "The Box" would grasp onto whatever firing neurons or spacedust our "souls" are made of. They'd "Catch Your Ghost."

And everyone gets their own Soul Box. It's not expensive, but you'll get to pay it back in installments. Because you won't experience heaven after you die, your ghost will need to continue to work to earn money to pay for your utilities and rent. And it turns out your disembodied spirit, while it may be immortal, is not invincible. You're still likely to get sick and the need for healthcare is not very affordable for a ghost.

But you've mastered death itself. You're immortal. You'll be here forever. Clocking in. Working overtime. Paying rent. Breaking your back and breaking your neck to earn capital. Just a ghostly cog in the eternal machine of spiritual suppression.

Forever.

[rachelwinters666]

The Bus Ride

Sarah took a seat at the back of the bus just like any other morning. The daily journey was a trek she had taken thousands of times previously. The feel of the seat's cold steel against the warmth of her legs sent an impulse through her causing her leg hairs to stand at attention. The faint thrumming of the engine almost sounded like someone's flat and lifeless humming.

As the bus pulled away from her stop, Sarah found herself staring out the window. Houses lazily passed by as the bus moved along the city streets. Cars drove by, heading towards their unknown destinations, their presence naught but brief glimpses into worlds she would never know. The grey asphalt beneath the bus wandered through her vision like a river passing into a stream.

Eyes like distant white pin pricks stared at her from the front of the bus. She slowly and methodically pulled out her phone and began to busy herself scrolling through today's social media posts. She jumped back and forth between apps almost by muscle memory as opposed to any real drive to see what was going on in the internet world.

She tried to ignore the eyes piercing through her like a butcher's knives slicing through meat, but it was futile. The burning hot rays tore through her mind leaving her thoughts in disarray. Terror began to churn through her thoughts, bringing up the desire to run away. The solitary need to get away - fast - consumed her being.

Sarah's eyes darted to the rear passenger doors of the bus. Surely she could escape at the next stop. If she just held on for another minute, she could rush off the bus to safety. The fact she was still nowhere even close to her destination was of no consequence, the long sweaty walk would be an acceptable solution to her current dilemma.

But when her eyes frantically shot to the rear doors to confirm that her escape route was clear and ready for her, she was dumbstruck to see a passenger had eschewed a seat in favour to stand in the door frame. The shape of the passenger was enormous, both tall and wide. They took up the entire doorway. A hulking beast of a human being. And what made things worse… is that this individual was staring right at her.

Panic gripped her white knuckle tight as she slowly began to realise that everyone on this bus was staring at her. And she had no escape. Somehow every single person on this bus had it out for her. Eyes shredded through her like saw blades ripping through the bark of a tree. Forms swayed and shifted with the ceaseless jostling of the bus's constant forward motion. Human beings stood shoulder to shoulder like massive walls that were impossible to scale.

She felt terror wash over her mind like icy waves crashing on rocks during a late night storm off some craggy coastline. Darkness crushed her under relentless surges of fear. Every single person on this bus was coming for her, coming to get her, coming to take her away. And all she could do was sit and stare back in horror as every single tangled shape in her field of vision closed in on her.

Her throat clenched tight as a red mist formed behind her eyes. The urge to escape, the urge to scream was too much for her. She was being asphyxiated by the very concept of fear itself. She tried to swallow but her body wouldn't let her and she constantly shook her head back and forth. A quiet plea, a silent admonishment that she did not want this.

The forms twisted and shook, she could feel their breath on her now. Wretched breath like rancid wind caressed her skin. Her arm hairs shot up straight and beads of sweat began to appear across her flesh. If only she could scream to drive away the spectres. If only she could run to the safety of the early morning air. If only she could escape, but the malevolent shades were pressing in on her now and there was no way she could survive.

The bus reached Sarah's destination and several people clamoured to stand up and exit. One by one the passengers exited into the calm and warm spring morning. The sky was calm and golden sun rays kissed the faces of every single person who exited. Sarah slid her phone into her pocket, stood up, and quietly exited the bus into the comforting spring air.

"Safe for another day" she thought to herself.