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Today's activity is reading Chapter 1 of my WIP and giving feedback.

The Royst 3DX

Chapter 1

“Repeat message.”

The electronic voice announced, “Amy, I’ve missed you. Come back.”

Letters glowed a crisp blue as they hovered above the smooth surface of Amy’s HoloDesk; she brushed a wisp of hair from her eyes and leaned closer to the image. Is this a joke? The senders name wasn’t included. Probably spam. A yawn escaped her lips. To left of the message, in a separate bubble, the time blinked 9:59 p.m.

“Delete message.”

Another hologram popped forward asking, “Are you sure you want to send to trash?”

She hesitated. It was getting late and she had to be up early for work.

Maybe it’s not spam?…

The room grew still. Could be from Matt. That relationship ended in screams and shards but sometimes passion is more important than broken windshields.

“Cancel delete, update virus protection”

The link floated below the message in a two word command. “Join Me.” A breath, slow and deep. “Click Link.”

The hologram hung in the air then shimmered into smoke.

Wow! That must be new.

The gray mist swayed; she reached out in hopes it had a tactile function. The tips of her fingers grazed the gauzy image. A shock, quick like a pinprick, pierced and radiated through her veins. She recoiled. When her body slammed into the chair the seat rolled out from under her thighs. Splayed out on the ground her eyes stung. What’s happening? She opened her mouth to scream and a metallic taste permeated her tongue and slithered its way down her throat.

Burning.

The smell of seared flesh overwhelmed her nostrils. It surged though her body and an electric voice hissed, “Amy.”

The hum of the computer grew louder, stronger, droning in her ears, electrical synapses exploded in her head.

Who are you?

Silently, she listened for an answer while it roamed her body.

Please answer me.

A picture popped into her head: she was eight years old, lounging on the couch in a red T-shirt, hair pulled back in a ponytail with her arm around her sister. The clear image frayed at the edges and the middle blurred. Soon both girls were unrecognizable.

Another popped up. Her mom, holding a birthday cake. The contours of her mother’s face lost definition and the cake melted into her hand.

Thoughts popped into her mind but they didn’t finish. She tried to focus on an idea, grab on to it, understand its meaning but before she could, it was lost. What’s going on? She faded. She tried to hang on and crawled into a safe part of her mind, rummaged around and pieced together the fragmented remains. It noticed her presence, increased its voltage and forced her out.

Wait!

In the far distance, a phone rang.

**************************

A stream of sunlight pooled on Amy’s eyes causing her to wake. The wood floor, cold; unforgiving, pressured on her right side. As she pulled herself up the room spun as if she spent the night bar hopping. She screwed her eyes shut, slid her fingers through her hair and grasped her skull.

Horrible dream.

Last night creeped into her mind. She glanced over at her desk. The ROYST 3DX, sat in its shiny black shell, undisturbed.