The colors, defense, that sent men to the bottom, their hearts bursting with songs of color and charm. The colors that came from the air and the island and the world itself, which hushed and hurried across the world to here, to meet when they were needed, to stop the seamen who slid over the waves to the break in the breakwall.
Oh, mostly the pleasures, one after another, singing, lulling, hypnotically arresting the eye as the ship sped into the heart of the maelstrom of weird, advancing, sky-eating colors. Colors like racing, and pungent, and far-seen shadows, and bitterness, and something that hurt, and something that pleasured. In a rising, keening spiral of hysteria they came, first pulsing in primaries, then secondaries, then comminglings and off shades, and finally in colors that had no names. “Softly at first, humming, creeping, boiling up from nowhere at the horizon line twisting and surging like snake whirlwinds with adolescent intent building, spiraling, climbing in vague streamers and tendrils of unconsciousness, the colors came. a soundless screaming a soundless whirring a soundless spinning spinning spinning. trapped and doomed alone in a mist-eaten nowhere. this is the stopover before hell or heaven. pinpoints cast in amber straining and elongating running like live wax. memory the gibbering spastic blind memory. a soundless owl of frenzy trapped in a cave of prisms.
I have no mouth and i must scream am archive#
endless nights that pealed ebony funeral bells. On Archive of Our Own (AO3), users can make profiles, create works and other Content, post comments, give Kudos, create Collections and Bookmarks, participate. a cornucopia that rose up cuculiform smooth and slick as a worm belly. down a bottomless funnel roundly sectioned like a goat' s horn. Harlan Ellison’s short story I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream recounts the fate of five unfortunate people who are trapped within the belly of a sadistic supercomputer.
I have no mouth and i must scream am full#
BONUS CONTENT INCLUDED: The Making of I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream and a full 54.
lights whirling and spinning in a cotton candy universe. Outwit the Master Computer AM in a game of psychological warfare. At least the four of them are safe at last. Living under the land, under the sea, in the belly of AM, whom we created because our time was badly spent and we must have known unconsciously that he could do it better. Outwardly: dumbly, I shamble about, a thing that could never have been known as human, a thing whose shape is so alien a travesty that humanity becomes more obscene for the vague resemblance. Blotches of diseased, evil gray come and go on my surface, as though light is being beamed from within. Rubbery appendages that were once my arms bulks rounding down into legless humps of soft slippery matter. Smoothly rounded, with no mouth, with pulsing white holes filled by fog where my eyes used to be.
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