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Pursuit of the Robo-witch

Enjoy!

Photo by Osman Rana

I pursue the queen-witch on the ocean nearby, taking the small boat she left laying around. I quickly bring the boat towards the waters and start the engine. The motor is struggling to start during this fierce storm—Black clouds, fierce drippings of water in the sky, the sun out of sight... An hour into the journey, the witch begins to lose my view.

Another ten minutes go by while chasing. She begins drifting towards an island. A smile begins on my face, as she remains going towards the island, I see motor’s for her vessel go towards the water. My smile dips. The sail grows bigger, improves in size, height, length. The boat begins tripling in speed... I notice, the sails on the large boat begin taking the shape of bat wings... I think to myself if I lose this woman, I'll also lose my soul mate...

The red and black ship become out of sight. I take out my phone, and zoom in with the camera on the device, looking at the screen, jars of souls containing many men, around the area of the vessel, I can see the shadows in the lenses and I can hear the shadowy cries, for the mercy they once needed. I notice her hit a black sanded beach... I go towards the second island on the water...

Finally, I get to my destination. I say: ” It's very chilly here, for an island? Weird.” Nobody's around to hear what I have to say, yet I mumble the phrase anyway. At times I do hear voices trapped within the mind of the witch soul collector in the distance. Other times I hear God telling and giving me clues, along with my knowledge as well.

As I get into the shore of the island, I notice a man with a wizard pipe, smoking a beautiful diamond of a rock... He inhales, his face turns white, greenness spewing from the nose...

As I watch her mechanical movements, they shake the ground once more. Within the factory of mass production, heaps of diamond-rocks, spew from the belts, as “robots” move towards, swirling the chemicals with a metal object. They beep as they’'re moving along with their work. Sometimes alerting those know, they have brought the shipment in, various robots for different tasks.

She goes through a door—as I'’m analyzing. That leads to a staircase, from what I can see... I hear the jiggling of her jaw, moving right to left... I begin analyzing once more, there's smoke coming from the stacks, nearby. I see robotic men, moving about from within the camp.

The mistake she made was to keep one of the monkey’s she created alive... The favorite of the wildlife she engineered with humans. Backing up from the spot of the “diamond dealing”. I set my tent towards the shores of the black sand ocean shore—as the tent is constructed. I hear screams from the witch... I take out the equipment she left behind. I'’m walking over the small hill (it's to block out the potions being dealt, creating those who later die...), I notice the witch nowhere in sight. I hear crackling from the distance, and the witch is looking at me from the window, sitting on-top a throne. Red, fiery hair, cat eyes with red eye balls, distorting her vision, and within those eyes, are snake pupils...

As I go around the zombies—too messed up from her potions to think. They’'re pulling ideas out in a frozen mind, unaware I’'m walking past, no thought train to conduct. They’'re not aware of what they should do. As I move towards the housing complex, I see the witch staring at me, her dead gaze cutting through.

As I remember the good times, separating the potions that I conjured with her. I remember, thinking to myself, she looks so beautiful... I think too myself while walking up the stairs, is something wrong? Is she really trapped within, or not, this doesn't make sense.…

I’'m starting to lose my memory of everything we did, talked about... Reality feels like it's slipping. The area seems fogged, hard to walk forwards, light shines from within the eyes, stars are present. The thinking slower...

The stairs are of metal; chilly in these shoes... Ice hanging from the small apartment-like unit windows. Frost consuming the floors. I walk upwards, during this large staircase... Slippery to the feet. As I try to keep gripping and move up, I can hear the laughing from above, growing in volume.

I finally get to the top; she'’s standing in-front. The 80’s wallpaper nearby looks terrible... To the front as I look, she begins to project an image of four... They create a vortex, using her chilly breath—I can't tell which one is which...