Four years later...



The afternoon light bled through the tall windows of the room, painting stripes of gold across Kathy's weathered face. She kept her voice low, each word carefully measured, as she spoke to Piper. The scent of pine and dust hung thick in the air.

"Everything’s here," Kathy said, gesturing to the neatly stacked supplies against the far wall. "Lori’s pack, her sleeping bag, her dead cell phone… her diary is on the table. Although, it seems that pages have been torn out of it.” 

Piper’s gaze followed the direction of Kathy’s hand, her bright blonde hair catching the light as she moved. Weeks of rations were still available, Kathy continued, a small, weary smile playing on her lips. It was almost insulting, this abundance in the face of such a sudden absence. 

“And her clothes…” Kathy’s voice trailed off, looking out the windows.

Piper shifted her weight, her youthful energy seeming out of place in the somber atmosphere. "Yeah... her clothes," she said, her tone lighter than the topic warranted. "Strewed about, along the ridge trail. Definitely her stuff."

"Hm." Kathy nodded slowly, the movement stiff. “No sign of a struggle. No remains.” She paused, the silence punctuated by the distant cry of a hawk. “Just… gone.” The word hung in the air, heavy with unspoken questions. It was as if Lori had simply dissolved into the mountains themselves. 

Piper let out a nervous laugh, the sound jarring in the confined space. “Remember that local guy? Four years ago, he swore there was a lot of UFO activity up here." She met Kathy’s gaze, a playful glint in her eyes. "Maybe she just got beamed up."

<>--+- O -+--<>

The flower, a riot of crimson and gold, detached from the vibrant chaos below with a gentle shimmer. Lori coaxed it upward with a subtle flexing of her will, a warmth blooming in her chest as it floated towards Fuuka. The scent, thick with pollen and sun-warmed petals, drifted across the space between their cages. 

Fuuka’s response was immediate and captivating. Her silver skin seemed to glow brighter as she stretched, a languid, feline grace in her movements. She slid her legs through the bars of her cage, a playful, teasing motion, and kicked them back and forth, her golden eyes fixed on Lori with an intensity that sent a tremor through her. Such devotion, Lori thought, a rare smile gracing her lips. 

Around them, the valley pulsed with a strange, unsettling beauty. Twenty cages now dotted the airspace, each containing a naked woman of various fantasy or alien races; a tableau of vulnerability and a silent display of captivity. But Lori's world narrowed, contained entirely within the shimmering silver of Fuuka's form. There was only Fuuka, and the aching tenderness that bloomed within her. 

"I love you," Lori called out, the words echoing across the gorge, a defiant declaration flung into the silent air. She knew Fuuka couldn't comprehend the syllables, but the sentiment was palpable, a silent, vibrant connection that bypassed language entirely. 

The breeze, capricious and playful, decided otherwise. The cage twisted, a gentle, almost mocking rotation, and abruptly Lori was facing away from Fuuka. 

A laugh, bubbling and unrestrained, escaped Lori’s lips. She shifted her body, mimicking Fuuka's earlier gesture, stretching her legs through the bars, stubbornly repositioning herself. “I love you, Fuuka,” she repeated, her voice laced with a playful frustration.

Then, a voice.

It drifted up from the valley floor, thin and reedy at first, then gaining clarity. Lori froze, her muscles coiling. Her gaze snapped away from Fuuka, drawn downwards. 

Below, across the tapestry of vibrant flora, two figures moved with a desperate urgency. They were women, their skin the color of burnished gold, and they were linked by thick, gleaming chains. They hurried across the meadow, their movements frantic. 

One of the gold-skinned women, her face strained with a visible distress, looked up. And she screamed. 

"Lori!" 

<>--+-

Dear Reader: 

I suppose that this is the end of this story. Or perhaps an end. What was once a dream for Lori, is now her reality. And what was once reality, now only a dream. 

But wait. Did it merely switch? Or did it switch back?

Maybe Lori's life in the firetower was always only a dream.

Well... When one is dreaming, they are hardly ever a reliable narrator. In dreams, the facts are always changing... adjusting themselves. 

Let's revisit that final scene except from a different point of view. Perhaps if the events are different, or jumbled up somehow, we will know with certainty that this valley of caged women is just a dream.

Let's look again from Fuuka's point of view...

<>--+-

The resin floor of her cage offered a dizzying view. Below, the valley unfolded in a riot of impossible greens and blues, a tapestry woven with flora unlike anything she’d ever known. The air was warm, carrying the scent of blooms she couldn't name. A gentle breeze tickled her fur, prompting a languid stretch of her limbs. Fuuka watched the breeze twist and turn, a silent, graceful dance. Her tail swished, a mirroring of the air's movements. 

Then, a splash of vibrant color appeared in the valley below. A single bloom, impossibly perfect, raised from the alien soil, spiraling upward on a thread of shimmering magic. It floated, suspended, then drifted gently toward her cage, settling delicately on the resin floor. A gift.

Fuuka felt a warmth bloom in her chest, a purring contentment that resonated through her entire being. It was for her.  She lifted the flower, sniffing its intoxicating fragrance, rubbing her cheek against its petals.  It was a tangible expression of…something she couldn't comprehend but felt deeply.

Her gaze drifted past the flower, over to the cage hanging opposite hers. The beautiful dark haired woman. 

The woman was looking at her. Always looking at her. A soft smile played on the woman’s lips, and Fuuka felt a surge of something akin to joy. She scanned the other cages, noticing the other women. They existed, yes, but their gazes were elsewhere. None of them were looked at the way the gentle woman looked at her. A delirious happiness settled within Fuuka, a sense of being singularly, wonderfully seen. Fuuka loved being seen by the dark haired woman more than anything that she could think of.

The woman began to murmur.  Fuuka couldn't understand the sounds, the string of nonsensical syllables, but the tone resonated within her. It was a soothing balm, a comforting rhythm that brought a strange sense of safety. A playful tilt of her head, a slow blink of her golden eyes, and she let out a soft purr in response. 

The breeze picked up, stronger now, tugging at the beautiful woman’s cage. She scrambled, a playful dance to keep her body turned towards Fuuka, maintaining the precious line of sight.  A smile widened on the woman's face, and Fuuka mimicked the expression, a silent echo of delight.

Then, a new sound drifted up from the valley. Voices. They were a discordant ripple against the gentle hum of the breeze and the melodic murmur of the woman's strange sounds.  Fuuka followed the sound with her eyes, noticing the chained women. They were gold, impossibly brilliant against the green of the valley, their skin shimmering, seemingly reflecting the light of the sun. They were straining against their chains, their faces etched with a desperate urgency. 

One of the women called out, her voice thin but piercing, directed up towards the cages. Towards the beautiful woman's cage.

The shift was immediate and unsettling.  The light in the woman’s eyes dimmed, the playfulness vanished. Her posture stiffened.  She didn’t speak, but her expression became one of confusion, a fragile vulnerability that cracked the easy smile Fuuka had grown to adore. Her brow furrowed, her lips trembled. 

The woman twisted to looked down at the gold skinned women. Her scent changed to something unfamiliar. She emitted a sense of terror. Fuuka gasped when she noticed the woman's frightened stare, and she looked, for the first time since Fuuka had been held captive, utterly lost. 

<>--+-

Hmmm... 

So, tell me… What happens next?