Monochrome Characters Novels & Stories

Everything turned dark and silent. *********

James asks, distracting his father. A man that loved his novelties and praised his relics more than he praised women or Wall Street. Anton peers at the painting, tracing the lines of a man or at least a face. Shrouded with swirly lines of deep reds that bring the canvas to life. It was indecipherable, but beautiful, and James finds it intriguing. “If by old you mean antique, then yes it is. It’s Le Mon, by French artiste Luciverci Glacon, dated back to the time of Vikings.”

Not blinking. Something really isc razy. I feel it deep in my bones.

I saw the bodies on the ground, but they were surrounded by a pulsing yellow aura that read [CRITICAL CHARACTER FAILURE]. "What is that?" I whispered, staring at the strange text overlaying the scenes I remembered. "That," she said, pointing at the red text, "is what happens when a character breaks script. That's what happens when the Luna—who is supposed to be soft and compliant and conflicted—turns into a sarcastic wild card who won't play her role. You've corrupted the file."

This was the inside of the machine. Symbols floated in the dark like schools of fish—glyphs in languages I half‑recognized from the consoles, strings of 1s and 0s, strange curls that looked older than both. Chains of script twisted into and out of each other, some hanging like vines, others running in neat, rigid columns down into a depth that had no bottom. Ghost‑images of worlds formed and collapsed in loops all around us. A flicker of Dracula’s castle, half‑rendered, then gone.

My vertigo swam for a moment before my eyes adjusted to the new light. Remi laced my fingers with his and started us down the main hallways. There was no light source, but the surfaces seemed to reflect light just like the leaves and the bark in the forest outside. It was the oddest sensation. The walls were covered in pictographs, but they were outlined in multiple colors of light. It was beautiful. They weren't Egyptian style, but they were similar in how they told a story. It was almost as if it was a time line as we walked down the hall.

No room for negotiation, no opening for follow-up questions. “Monochrome will not be proceeding with this proposal.” No explanation. I read it once and my hand hovered over the button for a moment. Then I pressed send and closed the laptop.

Ryu went out of his room and is struggling to open his eyes to the brightness coming from the windows. Ryu likes to sleep in the dark since he usually starts sleeping after sunrise. He went to the monitor and asked who it was. "Good morning. Sorry to bother you this early. I'm Yuka, you're new roommate. I tried calling Nato since he was supposed to take me here, but he wouldn't answer so I just went straight to the address that he gave me." How irresponsible can Nato be at this point? It was his idea to drink all throughout the night not thinking that he made an arrangement with Yuka the next day. Ryu tried to get a look at Yuka from the monitor but could barely see a glimpse of her from whe

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On monitors. _No cages. No monsters. Just us._ *Crack.*