writing_shadows

The deluge hammered at the castle, turning the stones slick. With an effort, the creator hauled the creation into place and lashed it down with chains. The cables were fixed to the electrodes and above it the storm raged; everything was ready.

The creator hung the tag around the creation's neck; a sort of joke, if not a terribly good one. It would carry a piece of the creator's spark, the old mind overwritten like a palimpsest. Simple, stupid even, but it would smell like the creator, drawing the pursuers off the trail.

As the storm gathered closer, the creator walked away from the creation. That was when the Pandoran attacked; a bestial quadruped, drooling venom, it breasted the castle wall at a run and sprang, carrying the creator over the precipice, a scream of furious defiance echoing into the night.

Lightning struck; a cold white serpent, writhing down the conductors and into the creation's liver. The body arched and twisted, bursting free of its chains in its birth spasms.