Early Bird Sneak Peek: “The Questions”!

Hi all! It’s time for another Early Bird Sneak Peek, where I share a glimpse at the story my lucky Early Bird patrons will be enjoying next Saturday thanks to their pledges at my Patreon page! Of course, if you’re not an Early Bird patron, you’ll still get a story next week–“This Is Just 4 U”, teased previously as an Early Bird story, has already been submitted to the EMCSA. But the Early Bird patrons will be getting “The Questions” (MC MA)!

Somewhere on this earth, there is a mansion with many rooms and many chambers. It is spoken of in certain circles as the home of true obedience, the final destination for those who seek to abandon their will entirely and become utter, mindless slaves. This is the story of a supplicant to those halls.

Here’s a taste:

She didn’t know how long she watched the candle. Time lost all meaning in the silent darkness; it could have been a minute or an hour for all she knew. The supplicant felt like she fell into a meditative trance faster and faster with every attempt, her mind settling into a state of perfect contemplation as she watched the flame sway gently from side to side with every slow, lazy breath. Nothing existed for her now but the candle. Nothing existed now but endless, infinite patience. She could wait as long as she needed to for the first question.

When it came, the voice in the darkness didn’t even startle her out of her calm, hypnotic state. “What is your name?” it asked. The supplicant could never identify the voice; it was carefully neutral, a soft murmur in the silence that held no emotion save expectation. She wondered sometimes if it was one of the teachers who spoke, or if someday she would apply this test to the next person who sought to become a perfect slave within the walls of the estate.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except answering correctly. The supplicant paused just long enough to make sure she had given the questioner a chance to speak–she had lost an entire week once through impatience, back near the beginning when she still believed that she had enough natural submission in her to pass the tests with ease–and said, “I am only a supplicant. Where I seek to go, I will need no name.”

There were other answers that worked just as well–it was easy to find information about the first chamber online, from those who had given up on their quest and those who were still seeking entrance–but the supplicant loved the form of that one the most. It felt the truest to her; every time she said it, she could feel a little bit more of her identity slipping away. It had been so long now since she’d heard her name that she genuinely had difficulty remembering it on those rare occasions that she tried.

She loved that.

Hope you enjoy it!

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