Devon 2

Devon sprinted through the doorway, baffled by all she had learned. She had to see him again, she realized, she needed to learn more, most of all, she needed to find her brother. What was it he had called him? Damien. She chuckled, Damien meant devil, which was an apt comparison from what she remembered of him! The three siblings had rarely seen each other as children, but they knew that they were siblings; they had an intimate bond since infancy and would attempt to meet in places, just to see each other. Each one had their own, cell, so to speak; a white room lacking any objects of interest. Each day there were multiple tests run on them, sometimes quite painful, Devon could hear the screams of the other ‘experiments’ ring across the hall. But Devon and her siblings were hardier and more resistant to pain, it hurt them less. They were given no straight information, but because of their astute hearing and the ability to understand subtle clues, they knew the ins and outs of everything in Sector D. It hit Devon then, what they were to the scientists. She and her siblings had gone beyond being a mere experiment, they had become monsters.

Suddenly she stopped and surveyed the scene before her, it was a door; a wooden door without a knob. Her lens beeped and she saw that it was merely an illusion. There was a knob, it was just invisible to the naked eye. She clumsily turned the knob, if felt strange, to be invisible it was kept in a constant state of vibration. Devon gaped at the sight beyond the door. This was not her world, the streets were covered with people on odd objects with wheels, cars, she had never seen a car. She gasped and slammed the door and stood with her back to the door, panting. Slowly, she opened the door the barest of cracks, and this sight astounded her even more than the last, it was her world, just as normal as before. The roads were hard-packed earth and the decrepit buildings crowded against one-another. All the men were in the fields, the children were either working or were playing in the street, mothers stood in primeval kitchens stirring stew that wafted a hungry smell throughout the town. This was the face of the town. Just like the face of a clock, behind the ticking monotone object, was a veritable maze of cogs and other interlinking objects, take one away, and the whole would cease to exist. Devon shut the door and looked to the left and the right, a little ruddy-faced boy with shaggy hair gaped at her. She felt for the handle again, looking behind her, but there was no door now, not even a knob. The door was gone. Devon stared at it curiously for a second, then shrugged and stepped briskly through a narrow alley. She had always been a creature of purpose, and had always made sure she knew what her mission was. Devon had her mission now.