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Writer's pictureHeavonEarth

The Apparatus

The cell was musty with dust and age, its interior littered with the vestiges of a bygone era prior to the reopening of the surface to habitation. Caldwell stood before a large metal trunk open atop an equally rusted trestle table, her eyes fixed upon the black insignia within. The contents of the trunk were incongruent with not only the chamber but most of what lay beyond. Caldwell finally allowed her gaze to inspect the rest of the consignment: three compartments of differing size. The largest contained what appeared to be a neatly folded uniform, darkest green in colour, its surface enmeshed with tight octagonal patterns reminiscent of fish scales. The next smaller compartment housed a black cylinder, cold and heavy as if made of solid glass. In the smallest compartment rested the octagon symbol that had arrested her attention and thoughts. Caldwell had seen such a symbol only once before, but not in any waking state. The dream had been as vivid as any she could remember. Seeing the insignia again had filled her with both dread and wonder. Might it be different now if she were the one to wield such frightful power? As she reached for the black medallion, a flurry of collisions rattled the metal bunker door, shaking Caldwell from her reverie. Men’s voices boomed from the corridor for her to open up. The banging became louder. The urgency of so many voices primed Caldwell’s instincts. Without any instruction, she hurriedly stretched the dark mesh over her worn green fatigues. The suit appeared ten sizes too large. She placed the heavy black cylinder into its cradle upon the suits right shoulder as it had appeared in her dream. As she reached for the medallion, it leapt from the trunk and snapped into an octagonal compartment at the centre of the suits chest. The suit instantly shrunk to fit and the cylinder emitted a black viscous liquid that enclosed her head in an orb. Caldwell felt the warm fluid encase her entire body beneath the mesh suit, and flood her innards, immersing her organs and vital systems. The cell door exploded with a flash of light and sound, and the shadows of gunmen were visible beyond the smoke. Caldwell wore The Apparatus. Instead of fear, she now felt unstoppable.


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