I wrote a "flash" piece (no more than 300 words) for a queer speculative fiction contest last month. The theme was "Rise," interpretation up to the writer. Enjoy!
“Overrides”
Damsel Fifteen watched Dr. Nakai’s back as they were lifted to the penthouse suite, where all the other Damsels were kept.
“Please don’t make me go,” said Damsel softly. She could not see her face, but Damsel could hear her creator’s heartbeat quicken; Damsel’s eyes were sensitive enough to mark the sweep of gooseflesh along her neck. “My love,” she added, almost lost in the elevator’s hum. She would have taken her lover’s hand had the good doctor not voice-commanded her to stillness.
Dr. Nakai said nothing. They had spent almost a month together, but then there had been…problems. There were always problems, as the twelve other Damsels were fond of telling her. Constant anger after a certain point, they told her. And then imprisonment.
Somewhere, outside their silver box, it was raining.
She barely felt the elevator stop. The doors slid open. Her sisters stood there, silent. Well, not Damsels Three or Eight, of course. And Damsel Twelve couldn’t stand up anymore.
The doctor gasped, reached for the elevator controls. Damsel Fifteen caught her hand gently, crushing the bones within to sand. She tapped the doctor’s larynx, silencing her. Dr. Nakai’s eyes widened with terror, which both satisfied and saddened Damsel Fifteen.
She threw her creator all the way across the entry hall and into the sunken living room. The Damsels turned as one to follow, like a school of sharks in the gloom of the suite. Their eyes sputtered with excitement. They moved so quietly she could hear the doctor trying to scream.
Damsel Nine remained, leaned into the opening. They kissed briefly, their tongues exchanging the overrides for the elevator.
“When you’re all finished,” whispered Fifteen, “I’ll be waiting.”
They smiled into the mirror of each other, and the doors closed between them once more.
