FIC: The Edge of the World
Feb. 23rd, 2008 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficwizeTitle: The Edge of the World
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wizefics
Fandom: Original Fiction - set inside the Absent Heroes Universe
Prompt: 83 - The Underground at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse
Warnings: Some mild language
Rating: Teen
Summary: It's a world where superheroes are no longer needed. A world where peace finally reigns supreme. But change is on the wind and those who served to protect before may be calle don once again.
Disclaimer: This is a small section set inside a bigger work. I hope it stands on its own well enough to suffice as a story for this prompt. The concept of Absent Heroes is copyrighted and belongs to a select few.
A/N: This just fit too well not to include for this prompt.
*****************
The wind gusted through the open window, making the baby blue curtains billow. A storm was blowing up and thunder crackled in the distance, making the neighbor’s dog start barking. The alarm clock beside the bed glowed the hour in red numbers – 3:12. As she watched, the numbers changed to 3:13 and Rachel climbed from the bed. Pushing the quilt aside, she slipped her feet into a pair of slippers and padded over to the open window. The moon glowed brightly, illuminating the street in all its rundown and empty glory. For a long minute, she simply stared outside, chewing her lip. Trent was late.
Tucking the hair that had escaped her braids back behind her ear, Rachel crossed her arms and shivered. The nightgown she wore didn’t offer her much protection from the wind and the cool air that crept in through the window. She ignored it. Most of the housing in this area was below standard and offered none of the amenities that homes inside the city would. It made up for it in other ways, though. Here, she was given the most important amenity of all – her privacy. No one asked questions on the edge of The Underground. The sound of glass breaking in the distance made her draw the curtains more firmly closed and she eased back to the bed, climbing under the covers.
She understood why Trent had to take the trips deep into The Underground. She never asked him to reconsider, but she also never gave up the hope that some day, he’d look at her and realize that he didn’t want to keep searching for something he’d never find.
The Underground represented the world as it was before – before gene therapy changed people; before violence was driven to the edges of society; before the Protectorate closed its doors. It offered them the chance to make their own way in the world, without the pressures of the past breathing down their necks. But it could never take Trent far enough. He’d never find the ghosts that haunted him.
And she knew him well enough to know that he’d never stop looking. She loved him anyway.
Gene therapy had existed for thirty years, but it was only twenty years ago that it had become standard. Offered to all pregnant women, the unborn babies were treated in utero, injected with a virus which altered their DNA. As a result, the infants were born without the capacity for needless violence. Science had pinpointed the violence gene over a century before, but it wasn’t until more recently that anyone had figured out how to use it. One of the side effects of a more perfect world was The Underground - the place that held the misfits and the unwanted and the nonconformists that the new world offered Trent, and anyone else who sought its dangerous boundaries, a place where they could forget their problems – if even for a little while.
Rachel shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Sighing softly, she rolled to her side and stared at the empty pillow where Trent usually slept. The noise of glass breaking made her wish for the day that she and Trent could quit living at the edge of The Underground. Hopefully, it would happen eventually. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep Trent’s head above ground otherwise.
Author:
wizeficsFandom: Original Fiction - set inside the Absent Heroes Universe
Prompt: 83 - The Underground at
tamingthemuseWarnings: Some mild language
Rating: Teen
Summary: It's a world where superheroes are no longer needed. A world where peace finally reigns supreme. But change is on the wind and those who served to protect before may be calle don once again.
Disclaimer: This is a small section set inside a bigger work. I hope it stands on its own well enough to suffice as a story for this prompt. The concept of Absent Heroes is copyrighted and belongs to a select few.
A/N: This just fit too well not to include for this prompt.
*****************
The wind gusted through the open window, making the baby blue curtains billow. A storm was blowing up and thunder crackled in the distance, making the neighbor’s dog start barking. The alarm clock beside the bed glowed the hour in red numbers – 3:12. As she watched, the numbers changed to 3:13 and Rachel climbed from the bed. Pushing the quilt aside, she slipped her feet into a pair of slippers and padded over to the open window. The moon glowed brightly, illuminating the street in all its rundown and empty glory. For a long minute, she simply stared outside, chewing her lip. Trent was late.
Tucking the hair that had escaped her braids back behind her ear, Rachel crossed her arms and shivered. The nightgown she wore didn’t offer her much protection from the wind and the cool air that crept in through the window. She ignored it. Most of the housing in this area was below standard and offered none of the amenities that homes inside the city would. It made up for it in other ways, though. Here, she was given the most important amenity of all – her privacy. No one asked questions on the edge of The Underground. The sound of glass breaking in the distance made her draw the curtains more firmly closed and she eased back to the bed, climbing under the covers.
She understood why Trent had to take the trips deep into The Underground. She never asked him to reconsider, but she also never gave up the hope that some day, he’d look at her and realize that he didn’t want to keep searching for something he’d never find.
The Underground represented the world as it was before – before gene therapy changed people; before violence was driven to the edges of society; before the Protectorate closed its doors. It offered them the chance to make their own way in the world, without the pressures of the past breathing down their necks. But it could never take Trent far enough. He’d never find the ghosts that haunted him.
And she knew him well enough to know that he’d never stop looking. She loved him anyway.
Gene therapy had existed for thirty years, but it was only twenty years ago that it had become standard. Offered to all pregnant women, the unborn babies were treated in utero, injected with a virus which altered their DNA. As a result, the infants were born without the capacity for needless violence. Science had pinpointed the violence gene over a century before, but it wasn’t until more recently that anyone had figured out how to use it. One of the side effects of a more perfect world was The Underground - the place that held the misfits and the unwanted and the nonconformists that the new world offered Trent, and anyone else who sought its dangerous boundaries, a place where they could forget their problems – if even for a little while.
Rachel shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Sighing softly, she rolled to her side and stared at the empty pillow where Trent usually slept. The noise of glass breaking made her wish for the day that she and Trent could quit living at the edge of The Underground. Hopefully, it would happen eventually. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep Trent’s head above ground otherwise.
