Futurism is powered by Vocal creators. You support Anne MacGregor by reading, sharing and tipping stories... more

Futurism is powered by Vocal.
Vocal is a platform that provides storytelling tools and engaged communities for writers, musicians, filmmakers, podcasters, and other creators to get discovered and fund their creativity.

How does Vocal work?
Creators share their stories on Vocal’s communities. In return, creators earn money when they are tipped and when their stories are read.

How do I join Vocal?
Vocal welcomes creators of all shapes and sizes. Join for free and start creating.

To learn more about Vocal, visit our resources.

Show less

Shell

My Shell name


Behind my blindfold I squeezed my silent tear stained eyes tightly shut. Involuntarily my being held itself as rigid as a stuffed animal anticipating its earthly death. 

Gunfire sounded close by.

Had the bullet passed through me; I felt no pain, was the me, the living breathing me, "dead." Is this what death feels like, I did not know, I had never experienced death before, not in this Earthly lifetime. My body swayed, it fell down hitting the hard baked yellow earth, was I still breathing air. Suddenly my subconscious self took over, instinctively sheltering me from this reality.

My thoughts heard a voice say "Done." Several footsteps echoed as they left the cobbled courtyard. My body lay still, not a muscle moved, it didn’t have the ability to move, my mouth felt dry, as dry as the earth it was lying upon. In that undefined moment, my being transported to another time another place, to my current knowledge somewhere I had never been before.

‘"Shell, Shell," a soft voice whispered in a somewhat halting fashion, a voice that sounded to my consciousness, vaguely familiar. This numb intellect of mine was slowly beginning to register. The voice had a strange lilting tone; something I imagined would sound like a gentle summers breeze. My limp body remained unmoving. The mind was intently listening.

The voice whispered, "You are safe, you live, you have no need of fear, come child."

My weightless body rose and floated high into the air; the voice had said I wasn’t "dead," where was I? My confused being had no answers; all I could feel was an aching emptiness.

As I soared higher a kindred feeling swept through, I was shrouded within a soft cloud, safe, cushioned, and protected; a warm peaceful feeling engulfed me as the exhilarating floating continued.

The voice interrupted my contentment, "Shell! I understand that you now have the ability to listen to my words, child of mine, you are safely home."

I willed myself to shake off this hypnotic trancelike state. I felt a cool hand on my forehead; the hand appeared to release me from this hold.

At last, I was able to utter spoken words, “Home?” It sounded even to my ears a completely inadequate statement.

“Yes child, you are truly home. At this time you do not have the ability to remember, trust in these words of mine, you will recall all when one moon has passed. This time is a protecting time, a healing time, given to adjust from your earthly bonds.

You, my precious one, will remain under the supreme protection of Angel, a safe guardian. Our High Principal allotted UrO and is in your presence from the time that you were birthed on Planet Earth. This day UrO performed his task of engulfing you, rescuing you at the jaws of death, UrO is your saviour.”

“I don’t remem—”

The voice continued, “Hush now little one, as I have instructed, not yet will you remember. You, my precious daughter, were birthed on Planet Earth to teach the beings our ways, the ways of peace, sadly many Earthling's choose the path of evil, as did the ones that extinguished your Earthly body.

You, whose name means the bright star of hope, was placed on Earth to infiltrate the evil ones to teach them goodness and mercy. Unfortunately the last ones you encountered had deaf ears, they wouldn’t listen. As do many others of the species. You did your best, they choose the path of evil.

We have tried extremely hard to make them understand that they must end their selfish ungodly ways; alas they still choose to have no ears to hear, no eyes to see.

I fear our High Principal will have to take stronger methods to teach Earthlings that there is a Universe with powers far beyond their simple comprehension. If our High Principal chooses not to intervene, Earth will finally extinguish itself."

My tearful soul listened.

Hells won’t mend humanity.

Now Reading
Shell
Read Next
Brutalist Stories #27