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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2211948
Muse, my muse. Written for Screams!!! 2/3/2020.
Droning On

Matt, Dom and Chris; Muse, my muse. I make no secret of how much influence they hold over me. Lyrically, musically, it's like being caught up in a web until eventually I'm spun into a tomb cocoon from which I'm not going to escape from.

'Drones' did this to me. Maybe there was some kind of master-plan for within weeks I was writing what turned into a book inspired by just one track. The beat had me beat; even now a random thought will start the stirring of 'Psycho's bass line thrumming through my veins.

Why did it take over me? I'm not into power, but so many are; and it was a bit like taking a mental dunk in a bath filled with megalomaniac corruption. It got under my skin, passed through my pores and I breathed every part into my lungs and my heart. Yes, even now its decked out in camouflage rather then the usual red.

Seething in with tendrils, this one especially tells a story from beginning to end. From being drawn in, to becoming changed to just a pawn in a game of global chess with some master making every move. Lack of control is a daunting thing, where someone else has a firm hold of the strings.

Make me move in time, turn and forward march, twisted and molded by the will of my handler - 'The Handler' - who is not going to let me so much as breathe for myself without an almost to the death fight. (Boy, if 'Psycho' had not pulled me in, this one would have dragged me, held me under. Even now, I get chills from the relevance.)

"You will never hold me again!"

Snipping and cutting my way through the ropes and the strings, but they are like bindweed. Once cut, the freedom does not last for the sprouting starts almost instantly. It's like being on that whirling merry-go-round in the video; I might be able to loosen the ties to get into some weird position but that doesn't mean I'm going to be able to get off. And of course, by doing so, I might be putting myself in danger of a fall.

Back to 'Drones', the musical, and there's so many people in line for position of 'The Globalist' - perhaps two more than most. Wielding ever increasing power until the entire world can be dominated at will, or destroyed if it won't capitulate. Who needs the soldiers, though? Clearly they do for there's the 'Psycho' factory churning them out. More expendable, less valuable than the Drones that are going to bring about mass destruction.

People will revolt against power, hate to be put into that inferior spot. No choices, no control, no ability to make a single decision that won't be turned against one. Yeah, tell me about it, Matt.

Dom's relentless drumbeats force those feelings into every single crevice of my mind. Chris, your bass strings wrap me up and hold me down, while Matt... Boy, his voice is going to drive that message home every single time, aided by those strings of guitar and piano.

Muse, my muse, with Drones you captured me and showed me just how much I'm caught. I can try and escape, but there's not much chance of fleeing the imminent mass destruction that is hanging over my head.

"You will do what you are told to do, when you are told to do it, or you will be punished. Do you understand?"

"Aye, Sir!"

"Your ass belongs to me now."

"Aye, Sir!"

'You f***ing psycho!'

(598 words)





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