rachitrojha (@rachitrojha) • Hey
rachitrojha (@rachitrojha) • Hey
Publications
- omg I LOVE peanut butter but i stopped buying it cause I eat it all LOL
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- 🌌𝕬𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝕿𝖔𝖉𝖆𝖞✨👽
*Inspired by cover art of The record by Boygenius*
#OpenLens
𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖇𝖞 𝕬𝖚𝖌𝖚𝖘𝖙, 7
- gm sup gm 🏝️
- Hello im new in lens ;-)
say welcome to me my frens,will follow u all
- Was at the doctor and he asked me what I do for a living. Lmao 🤡🍟.
Also me: well ser, sit back, relax and let me explain 🍟🍟🍟😈😈😈
- **The Glass Cage** 📖 - A thrilling journey of transformation and resilience. Now on #OPENLENS via @lenster.lens
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Support the narrative journey from **story to comics to animation**. Become a pioneer in fan-driven content.🌟
@lenspostxyz @collectz @socllyofficial @lensport @creators
#shortstory #write3 #lensfrens #write
Now, I present to you, 'The Glass Cage'...
Emma finds herself within a confining space. The dimensions of her enclosure are just enough to allow her a single step in any direction, her arms outstretched brushing the cold, dark walls. It's a familiar environment, one that she's grown accustomed to, a place of stillness and solitude.
Suddenly, a sign, no larger than her palm and resembling a shining symbol, illuminates the upper right corner of the glass wall. It glides smoothly down the surface like a comet streaking across a night sky, its radiance pulsating rhythmically. The sign is a complex pattern of curves and lines, shimmering in a spectrum of colours that shift and change as it moves. She notices it, leaning towards the wall, her hand hovering at waist height. She hesitates, then gently touches the sign.
A surge of energy pulses through her, a wave of satisfaction washing over her. Her lips curl into a smile, her eyes sparkling with joy. She exhales, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips.
More signs begin to appear, one on the left wall, another directly in front of her. She moves swiftly, tapping the signs before they've even descended a third of the wall. Two consecutive waves of blue energy ripple through her, amplifying her pleasure. She revels in the sensation.
The signs multiply, five, six at a time. She manages to tap them all, each successful interaction heightening her joy. Ten at a time, she conquers them all, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her. But with each wave, the satisfaction diminishes. She craves more.
A slow-moving sign on the glass wall behind her catches her attention. She whirls around, but it's too late. The sign has crossed the line, disappearing beyond the floor level. A pulse of fiery red power, accompanied by a deafening sound, engulfs her. She winces, pain etched on her face.
She lunges towards the remaining signs, tapping them with a newfound urgency. Fifty signs fall from the top, their speed increasing. Three slip past her, hitting the floor. Agonizing pain from the red waves immobilizes her. Six more slip past.
A wall of signs looms, threatening to hit the floor. Desperate, she reaches out, her voice echoing a futile "No!" just before they hit.
A flash of red, tens at a time, ripple through her. She screams, her knees buckling under the pain. Her fists clench, strands of hair entwined between her fingers. She screams again, her voice hoarse, "STOP!"
She pounds the front glass wall with both hands, pleading, "Let me out!" Her efforts yield nothing but sparks and a spider web of shattered glass. "Let me out!" she screams, her voice echoing in the confined space.
Everything turns white. She blinks, her eyes darting left and right. A muffled voice reaches her from the side. She turns sharply towards the source, a man standing at a safe distance. "What?" she snaps.
Taken aback, the man stammers, 'I...I was just wondering if you're using this weight bench.
She looks down, her mind racing. "Yes, I'm between sets," she replies, her voice shaky.
"Are you okay?" the man asks, his face filled with concern.
"Yes, one set left," she responds, her voice steadier.
"Okay, I'll leave you to it then," the man says, retreating.
She nods, her attention drawn to a familiar 'bip-bip' sound. A notification appears on her phone. A flashback of the wall full of signs, the red waves, and the suffering she endured hits her. She swiftly turns off her phone and, with a steady hand, tosses it into her backpack.
As the phone arcs through the air, a transformation unfolds. Emma, who was once suffering within the confines of the box, rises, assuming a power pose. A brilliant white light envelops her, and the box shatters into countless fragments. The scene shifts, and we're back in the gym.
The young woman is on the weight bench, performing her exercise, a picture of determination and resilience.
**THE END**
Thank you for reading 'The Glass Cage'. If you're a fan of 'Love, Death Robots' or 'Black Mirror', we'll get along just fine. 🤖💔 Stay tuned for more stories coming soon!
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We need $GHO.
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