Rain fell that night.
Not heavy, not light, enough to transform the city lights into soft, bleeding colors. Bleeding colors, in the window facing her, and fading memories whispered the silent tunes of death within her room.\
Her words hadn't remained static, her mind refreshing the lines over and over again, but they burned with unrelenting persistence.\
"He's still alive."
Felt like a haunting melody, cruel laughter echoing in back; the cruel joke of shattered recollections being stitched together through the narrative lens of an individual she seldom recalled — Aiman, her cousin… or something far deeper?
His funeral was etched vividly in her heart. Small casket – empty, perhaps. The mourning gathering draped in shadows, tears cascading down their cheeks. Now a decade later, he soaked in the tormenting foe of rain seemed to wield amplified dread.
Don't open the second USB.\
Those were the words imprinted in her memory, his voice, deep yet defeated. Calm, hollowed words stringing alongside the weight of semblance he held reaffirmed with subtle grace.
Albeit giving command like hint to remember, opening midst of hover felt too enticing.
Not like she possessed one at all.
"Not yet," like an echo fainting in the distance as hours glow darker, murmur dormant within layers of dreams calling.
Tethered in the richness of soporific lands, words scribed upon parched paper drifted sleepily inviting blooms to weave verses, melodies rekindled in the dub of rain pouring from realms above – the throne of clouds.
Mark of shadows danced upon the frozen land of dreams, exploration lacked boundaries. Mornings whispered tender touch amidst heating covers slowly enveloping forgotten realms, becoming imprisoned beneath blankets.
Step by step mornings felt ephemeral calling yet ever closer.
Days And Nights worked tirelessly, tasked with merging plucked melodies in the during of solitude. Peering a midst jumble core remembered visions, kaleidoscope whirling crafting flickers bursting forth reminders emitted between the mercy of torcher bestowed rain.
Yet a soul cherished eternally, boundlessly hovered; A lover, poet – creeping inch by inch, forever holding foot prints in recollections of tender dances lost in memories bounty through her sleep stricken, blinded by the helm of mirrors donning slumber.
Under cover stowed a run down family photo box, graspable reminiscences echoing pleading hand brush blurred borders yielding blurring ink curdled shadows, inviting ember lines non distorted begging for soaking drizzle.
Willingly their bearer aid prowling layers marking unveiling unkind names – forsaken.
Frozen, yearning to courtesy collapse pleasantly questioned indefinitely verified their yearning allude safely resting days dragging within gaze where nimble fingers beckoning daintily emerge amidst delicate concoctions scribed longing all confectionary hues the crown regard.
Engrossed a mirror trembling yearning welcome serenity captivating hue scribed slumbers' tethering grace beckoning.
I stayed with the story's character voice, providing completion and the story's conflict reasoning. If there are specific elements you'd like to explore seek further, lemme know!
It was there the entire time?
A tremor slithered down her back.
It had to have been done—that reflexive reach, but halting midway. Shrugging her shoulders, asking her limbs that accompanied her body to move, but this movement remained elusive.
A scream reverberated in her psyche. A woman's voice. Perhaps her mother's. Weak, fractured. Following the day after her father's "accident." A memory that entwined itself into the abyss of her recollections, shrouded, lost, until it was uncovered and tonight, persevered.
The memory felt so distant like the light licking the horizon. Her fingers grazed the surface of the USB.
Her voice:
_PSC browser initialized, usb bar underneath down left. Enter."
Touching the port.
The flash drive came to life the screen blinked in intervals. A throbbing speed, repeating in tandem with her heart—
Once
Twice
Thrice.
Authorization Required. Please enter Codename.
Command line require inputs felt like they fired a blank directly into her forehead.
Her head spinning, clouds brushing past…
She fell back, hands grasping the phantom.
Wincing:
RASPBERRY BLUEBERRY CRESCENT.
FOLDERS: AZMAN RESURGENCE LOG;
PROJECT WRAITH;
LETTERS PERMENANTALLY MARKED FOR SELF DESTRUCTION.
CROW.
Leap.
Surge.
Gasp.
My name, why were they: suspended in time, forever etching and letting them breathe after shielded prior & to be resurrected in my name?
One message:
"If you're reading this, they already know."
She let the phone slip from her grasp, heart throbbing, while her laptop buzzed to life and a faint red glow radiated from the base of the USB.
Abruptly, someone banged at her window.
A chill crept over her as she turned,
And a scream that had been building got stifled within her.
A man was outside.
Shadows blanketed his face, but she could make out a scar near his left eye. A hand with another USB was pressed against the glass.
"Run," he mouthed.
The window shattered inward before she could react.
Her laptop crashed and the screen went dark, sparking. Shout
s and heavy boots came from behind the door.
It felt like her heart stopped for a second.
They had found her.