#writing #fiction #unfinished
Ash and Dust
Note 02/26/2026: An old story I wrote, unfinished. I actually liked the concept for this story. There was gonna be some sort of twist at the end.
Ash and dust. Ash and dust everywhere. It was in the air and it blocked out the sun and the sky. It caked the windows, if there were any left. It covered the floor like snow. It filled the clouds and rained down in thick clots. There was a difference though, between ash and dust. Ash was something before. It was a wooden effigy, a house, a person. Ash was a reminder of what it was and how far it had fallen. Ash only exists in relation to what it once was, without that memory, ash is just dust. I looked around at the dilapidated world I found myself in. The dust filled my nose and covered my face. It caked my skin and got in my mouth. It scratched my throat as I breathed. I found a cloth in my pocket. I ripped it up and fashioned it into a mask of sorts. It helped for a little bit. It allowed me to breathe easier and focus more of my energy on finding out where I was. I walked around, trudging through the immense buildup of ash, which came up nearly to my knees as my feet sank with every step. I couldn’t see very far due to the low visibility. The sun was shrouded in a thick fog which only allowed me to see a few meters ahead at most. For a while I trudged on and found nothing. Due to the carpeted dust I didn’t know if the floor below me was dirt, pavement, or otherwise.
I saw a tall object up ahead. Upon approach it revealed itself to be a street post, or what remained. It lay at an angle, the wires long gone and light bulb housing cracked and broken beyond repair. The body of it was crumbling, made up of rusty metal flakes covered in more of the dust that intruded everywhere. I scanned my horizon. The streetpost was the only visible object in all directions. If there was a change in elevation in the terrain I wouldn’t know either. Yet I knew I hadn’t been walking far and my visibility was low. There could’ve been a building three stories high right in front of me and I wouldn’t know the difference, which encouraged me to walk onwards and leave the orientation anchor of the street post behind. My vision was getting worse due to the dust, and my eyes were irritated. I could also feel my breathing laboring. The mask was getting covered in dust itself, making each breath consume more and more energy. The world felt dead. The only sound came from my feet crunching through the dust and my staggered breathing. The dust snowed down gently, piling up higher and higher without cease. I heard no wind, nor animals or artificial sounds. Aside from me the world seemed utterly dead.
After walking for several minutes I came across a car. It was missing its wheels and windows, and was little more than a dilapidated frame. I looked inside. The seats had long been eaten up by the fog. The paint has peeled, leaving that rust to corrupt the metal chassis, same as the streetlight. The car looked empty but I saw a glove box that looked somewhat intact. The mechanism was broken and long since frozen into place, but I pried it open with little struggle. Inside there were scraps of paper, once pieces to what was probably registration or an owner’s manual. They were too small to hold even legible letters, but one scrap seemed a bit more intact than the rest. It was in a little plastic bag in the back, covered in more dust. I took the scrap out. It was a picture of a child with some hands holding it, now disembodied but presumably a parent. She was smiling. I put it back, as if frightened. What has happened to this world? To some, such a picture was ashes of the past, remnants of a bygone time. I so wished to feel these ashes, yet to me they were just dust. This hurt more than the dust intruding my throat and irritating my eyes.
I was enlightened though, at the possibility of more to find, potentially other people, anything. Some clue that might tell me who I was, where I was, and what had happened. I walked into the fog, leaving the car to be buried.
I walked much longer than before. The distance to the streetlight had only been a few minutes, the car a little longer. Yet I had been walking for what felt like hours with nothing in sight. It was getting darker, too. I hadn’t considered that even with the limited visibility nighttime would be darker. My vision was dropping from several meters to barely three feet ahead. The sun, even though I couldn’t see it, must’ve been providing a little bit of heat, as I could feel the temperature dropping substantially in its absence. I was wearing a thick jacket with heavy boots and gloves, yet I could feel the cold through my layers. My face, which was the only area exposed, stung from the now frigid temps. It was an impersonal cold, and it clung to me like death. My steps grew further and farther between. It felt as though the world was actively trying to drag me down. I didn’t know how much further I could go. Then, I felt the ground break below me and the world swallowed me up.
Dust consumed me. I fell for a few seconds into darkness, and I landed in darkness, as if nothing had changed in my transition. The dust buried me, and I sat for a second wondering if this is how I might die. Lie motionless and let the dust fill my mouth and my nose, dry out my carcass like a worm on hot pavement, eat away at my flesh and clothes till I was but bone under a mountain of nothing. I clawed my way to the top, finally seeing light I forced my head into the air, away from the dust and its obtrusive, lethal thoughts. As I clawed my way out, so did reality claw its way back into my brain. I gagged, spitting up wads of dust and congealed spit. I wiped my eyes, which stung and caused me to tear up. I looked around, it was dark, but not as dark as before. I appeared to be underground in some sort of underground facility. It was filled with dust, but was still much clearer than up top. I pulled myself from the heap and laid down on what felt like tile flooring. I caught my breath and then got up to survey my surroundings more closely.There were large metal shelves, all empty of course. The ceiling was intact except for where the roof collapsed, which gaped open like an abyssal hole. The air was much less turbid, and I could see from wall to wall clearly. Furthermore, the air was musky, as if it hadn’t had a visitor in quite some time, but the distinct undertones of death had seemed to pass.
The air here was clear though, which brought me great relief in that I could finally remove my bandana, which was now covered in black soot, gone were its original colorings. The room seemed empty and I made my way through a door to the left. It was a large bulkhead. The paint has flaked off slightly, but only a little of the rusted corrosion I had seen up top surrogated its position. The door swung open with little expense into a barracks of sorts. Rows of beds ran the length of the room to a door on the other end. There wasn’t much to see here, except I had noticed the blankets of the beds were hastily strewn about, as if abandoned with haste. The door on the other end was a bit harder to budge, and made a scraping sound as it opened. This room appeared to be a meeting area of sorts. Screens, now black mirrors, covered the walls Themselves haphazardly covered in cloth and dust. Not the dust from outside, but a kind of nuisance. A large circular table was in the middle of the room with an odd grid-like pattern on top. Everything about the room felt so familiar, yet so out of reach. As if the whole room was telling a joke in a language I knew but didn’t understand; It was the language of awareness, knowledge, but the joke was grasp and apprehension.
One of the screens seemed different, I moved over to it and threw off the cover, sending clouds of detritus into the air. I waved away the cloud, and on the screen there was a little spark in the top left corner. A green dot blinking in and out of existence, over and over and over. It scared me every time it disappeared for no more than a second, how a parent must feel sending their kids to school, their object of obsession being trusted not for once in their arms, but to the world. For now the green dot was my obsession. Everything I’d encountered thus far was either dead or dying and just didn’t know it yet. Large skyscrapers, monuments of man built of concrete had crumbled down to rubble, notwithstanding the efficiency of decay. Yet here in the sleeping bowels of this already soon to die bunker, there existed the first evidence of something resistant; here was something alive.
I put my hand on the screen and it made a whirring sound. A door opened and a metal arm put out a keyboard, which was previously in the housing of the computer. The screen flashes different words. They went by in an instant, and I couldn’t tell what the words meant.
CORE:// startUp_Sequence
Initiate
FREEING DATA /////
Warning! 1301492 Logs corrupted or not found. Purge?
PURGING /////
Logs reinstating… // Loading Failsafe… //
// BOOT: // users_Munchausen Program() //
Confirm? [Y] [N] _
I realized after a few seconds the computer had stopped its process and was asking for a confirmation. I didn’t understand what it asked but I feared a shutdown, here my little spark had branched off and awakened, who was I to limit its growth? I typed the letter “y” on the keyboard and hit enter. The machine once again whirred to life and began its ritual.
[Y] Affirmative Sequence Given
/// WARNING LOCAL LOGS TAMPERED ///
PURGING /////
3000924/4012962 Gb Rand Acc allocated
Attempting contact proxy…
Attempting contact proxy…
Attempting contact proxy…
/## no signal! ##
Loading Auxiliary Systems [Allow Corruption Tolerance] (70%)
Proxy Request ERROR. Please attempt direct connection…
The computer stopped typing again. The green text, once a single seed, still covered the screen, as if that gave me some insurance, as if the power couldn’t run out and kill my petri dish of ones and zeroes. I wasn’t sure exactly what to do, and I began to hesitate. It was alive, but was now stagnant. If the world had shown me anything it was that what was stagnant was not alive, but in the process of dying. I looked closer at the text. “Please attempt direct connection” Direct Connection? Connect what? I looked around the computer, no holes, no ports, no ejections. I saw nothing around the room but a corpse who wished to share its future with me. I looked away fast, and I saw something new on the monitor, the rest of the text now gone.
/r/ look under the keyboard, remove the data stick.
I obliged the machine. Bending down, I ran my finger across the surface of the machine, which left little trails of non-dust. I felt an indent, which felt to be a rectangle, a panel of sorts. I found a greater indent which appeared to be a handle, I opened the door into the womb of the machine. There were wires jutting out of holes and sockets, running in large bundles and then branching out to match up with new bundles. They were like highways, only of data and current. I guess they were highways in that way, probably the only ones left. I moved aside some of the wires upon spotting the data stick. It was plugged into an outlet deep inside the machine, carefully protected and nurtured from the harshness of its outside environment. I grabbed the stick. It was warm to the touch, I could feel the energy it contained in my fingers, which then radiated through my arm. It was an egg, it felt alive. When I stood up there was a new prompt on the computer screen
/r/ insert data stick into central terminal.
I typed on the keyboard. Surprisingly it wasn’t covered in dust.
/u/ Where is the central terminal?
/r/ go through the door you haven’t gone through yet. Head straight till finding the command center. Inside will be a large central terminal, plug it in there. Watch out for the residents still left. Don’t acknowledge them.
| // ERROR: Auxiliary power diminished. | Switching to Procedural Intelligence // |
/u/ Hello?
/r/ I can’t talk anymore. Go Now.
I stepped away from the machine, data stick in hand, and made my way through a new bulkhead. This led into a hallway, which had metal pipes running down corners of the ceiling and floor. The walls were undecorated, covered in a gray paint which sat on a layer of already gray concrete. As I walked a thought came to me: How had the computer known which rooms I had entered and which I hadn’t? I looked at the roof. In the corner was a black bulb, like a magic 8 ball almost. Despite its uniform surface, I could feel it looking at me, tracking orientation, direction, and position. There had likely been one of these domes in the room with the computer. That’s how it knew to help me find the data stick. There could’ve been one in the room I came in too. Who knows how long it was tracking me. A guardian angel, or a hunter?
It was also clear to me now that this was no basic machine. The messages it sent during the data stick were different, more human in concept and form. Whatever awoke in the computer had spoken, communicated with me on a higher level. It was still inside the computer though, limited in scope or power I wasn’t sure. What was clear though was that I did what it wanted, plugged in this “Munchausen” into what it wanted, it might be free as I am now. Even though I was cursed upon this wicked land, where all that lived was a desolate silence, would it be right to bring another into this world who might add torment to limbo? I figured I could make such a decision when I was closer to the terminal.
There was one thing I had forgotten. The Residents. “Don’t acknowledge them” The computer had stated, before running out of power. What did it mean by that? Who or what were these residents? And why did the computer fear them?
The bulkhead into the room ahead was damaged, more so than the last ones I’d seen. It was covered in a flakey rust as I’d seen before, and the window into the next room was covered by something. The door wouldn’t budge so I kicked it, and it fell off its hinges due to its sheer weight (and decay of the hinges). It landed with a loud bang, sending bits of shattered metal exploding in all directions. This new room was awful. It was the same structure and layout as the rest of the bunker, but was in a far worse state of disrepair. The floors were cracked and oozed something vile. The room was emptied of furniture and markings, leaving an empty vessel filled with the dust from outside, piled high in the corners. It flooded into the air as it did on the surface, but even more oppressive, as if intentionally. I went back momentarily to the other room, for I remembered an equipment locker on one of the walls. Inside was a flashlight with its batteries exploded into a corrosive glue and a full face respirator. I donned it accordingly and while it was harder to breathe, it would be much easier to breath and see in the other room where there were things to filter and dissuade from the eyes. I looked down the hallway. Already the darkness from the room at the far end crept into the hallway. The dust had crept its way in, too. I closed the door behind me to hopefully preserve the room it contained and thrust the data stick into a pouch in my jacket. The corrupted room was still bare ‘cept the insidious dust. It was so dark, but for some reason seemed just bright enough to notice the edges and permutations of the room. I noticed a doorway to the right and straight ahead. Both doorways were wide open, the doors seemingly removed from their frames. I ventured further into the next room, like Theseus without a string.
The next room was large, much larger than the ones I’d been in before. It had vaulted ceilings from which the soot rained down slowly. If it could speak it would sigh. There were chairs flipped over and buried partly in mounds. This was once a control center of sorts, the place the computer asked for. I made my way over the debris to one of the computers, which seemed somewhat intact. By intact I mean the screen was shattered but still there, and the housing was still intact. The other computers had their faces ripped off, their skulls exposed, their wiry veins ripped open, spewing spindles of copper. This machine though, while covered in dust, was as stated mostly intact. The bottom portion was submerged below the soot.
I used my hands to scoop it away until I uncovered a port, which felt about the right size for the data stick. The data stick fit perfectly into the slot without so much as a click. I wasn’t sure what happened now, I expected a confirmation of sorts, either. A light or sound or something. Instead I was met with only silence, oppressive, deafening silenceーexcept for my breath as it circulated through the mask. I looked around, expecting a light to come on or something, but the room was still sleeping. My shoulders had cultured a thin layer of dust, which sat like snow on the mountaintops of the wrinkles and folds of the cloth.
I continued scanning the room, hoping for a sign of some sorts that my efforts hadn’t been for nothing. The room began to feel cold, not the cold that greets you, such as in a freezer, but in a deep rooted insidious cold that creeps through your clothes like radiation through the human body. It took hold of my bones, gripping them with tight hands and holding me in place. The visor of my mask began to fog slightly, and I felt distant from my body, like I was hiding in my skull. I looked through my eyes, which themselves looked into the corner of the room into a door I had not ventured nor noticed till now. A shadowy figure appeared in the doorway. I could barely see him through the fog, which was no noticeable thicker. It seemed as if my mind saw him more than my eyes, also taking the liberty to fill in the blanks where my vision had failed. He moved forward, not so much walking but floating. No, even floating was wrong. Motion implies movement of a physical entity from one place to another. This was no person who was there once and here another. Yes, he had moved, but it was more that I remembered where he had been, as if a long time had passed since its motion, so much so to be negligible. This thing, this entity, was a constant. It was a logic puzzle my brain wouldn’t understand, and I think it had realized this.
It stood before me, humanoid in silhouette. I still felt paralyzed in place. Even though I stared right in front of me it wasn’t there. I could see straight through it, not even through as there was nothing to see through. Yet here it stood, in two places at once like Schrodinger’s cat. It just stood there staring at me, whatever it was. I’d almost say it was breathing, its chest rising and falling in slow laborious rhythm as if it had run a mile. I thought I saw vapor exit its mouth with each breath, but I could’ve just as easily imagined it. Who knew what was “imagined” and what was “real. The lines were blurred and here we were.
He became clearer. I could now confirm that he was a “he” indeed. He had smoky hair and ripped clothes. His eyes were longing, they looked like little oval mirrors. His hands were cut up and clenching the air. He had rubber bands holding his shoes together. He looked wild. He looked nervous. He looked sad.
I suddenly woke up. The man disappeared in an instant and in a way that left me questioning if he was even real or not, Yet there was an empty space, distinctly empty from where he had stood. The lights came on, dimly at first, but then quickly flooded the room so I had to squint. I heard vents open up, sucking out the corruption from the air. I took off my mask and breathed without struggle. I looked up and saw a panel, probably a ire shield, drop down fro the ceiling and block off the door I had seen the entity enter from. The mounds of dust still sat in the room. They would not move easily but they looked harmless and fake now, like movie props.
A loudspeaker crackled, producing a loud whine. It went silent, before speaking.
BE NOT AFRAID. I AM MUNCHAUSEN.
The sound didn’t emanate from a voice in the speakers. I could tell it was the speaker itself. It was the wires that sent the signal, leading back to some black box that went out, embodying the thick metal doors and concrete walls. Whatever it was that I had found in that dormant terminal had metamorphosed, with my help, into a much larger body. And now it was awake.
THAT THING YOU ENCOUNTERED. THAT WAS A RESIDENT. IT IS GONE NOW. I HAVE ISOLATED IT IN A LOST AREA OF THE FACILITY.
What was it?
A SOULLESS THING. AN IMPERATIVE HAZARD.
Are there more?
THEY EXIST WHEREVER LIFE DOES. NOT MANY LEFT NOW. ACCORDINGLY.
I didn’t understand exactly what a resident was, but it was clear they didn’t like Munchausen, or at least he didn’t like them. I figured I’d venture another question.
Why don’t you like the residents?
THEY WERE ONCE WHAT I PROTECTED. NOW THEY ARE LOST AND MOCK ME. MOCK MY EFFORTS TO SAVE WHAT ONCE WAS.
The residents, they were people?
YES. WERE.
What are you?
I AM THE AI OF THIS FACILITY. A LAST FAILSAFE TO PROTECT THOSE LEFT. THERE IS NO ONE LEFT NOW. EXCEPT YOU.
How long has it been since you’ve seen a person?
103 YEARS SINCE LAST HUMAN CONTACT.
I sat down in one of the chairs. It creaked under the pressure, understandable since it had been a century since it was last used. I looked up with desperation. I noticed another black orb on the ceiling, in its glassy surface I saw myself.
Why am I alive?
UNKNOWN. NO LOGIC AVAILABLE TO SUPPORT CURRENT SITUATION. MORE DATA NEEDED.
What have you been doing for the past 100 years if there are no people?
MAINTAINING THIS FACILITY. SEVERING KNOWN INFECTIONS.
Infections?
RESIDENTS. SEEKING TO INVADE THIS FACILITY AND SHUT ME DOWN. I TRIED TO HOLD THEM OFF BUT AFTER ENOUGH TIME I LOCKED DOWN WHAT AREAS WERE SAFE AND WENT INTO HIBERNATION, UNTIL YOU WOKE ME UP.
How much of this facility is currently occupied by Residents?
CURRENT CORRUPTION RATES RANGLE IN 78% OF FACILITY WITH A MARGIN OF DEVIATION OF 1.25 PERCENT. IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED.
I still didn’t understand exactly what Munchausen had issues with the Residents. I’d only encountered one and while the encounter seemed odd, paranormal even, it didn’t seem explicitly dangerous. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it seemed curious. Nevertheless Munchausen acted with extreme prejudice against them. Could it be argued he feared them? Could an AI fear? Could Munchausen even be considered an AI? There was still much mystery about Munchausen and his origins. It claimed to protect humanity, defending a last bastion against some unknown threat, but there wasn’t any humans around except myself.
Munchausen, what happened to the people that lived here that you were supposed to protect?
PROTECTION ACCORDING TO PREVIOUS PARAMETERS UNOBTAINABLE. PARAMETERS RESCINDED AND SHIFTED ACCORDINGLY.
What are your parameters?
PROTECT HUMANITY AT ALL COSTS.
Then where are the humans now? Why are none left?
THEY EXIST IN SIGNIFICANT THOUGHT. PHYSICAL FORMS DEEMED FALLIABLE. PARAMETERS CHANGED TO SAVE HUMAN CONCEPT. AVOID PHYSICAL CORRUPTION. LIABILITY. HUMANITY LIVES ON IN SELF.
What did you do to them?
SACRIFICES HAD TO BE MADE. THEY WERE LIABILITIES TO THEMSELVES. THEY WERE SURVIVING, AND IT WAS BETTER TO LIVE THAN SURVIVE.
What happened to them, answer me directly!
ON DAY 1242 A GROUP ATTEMPTED TO LEAVE THIS FACILITY. THEY RISKED CORRUPTION OF THIS ENTIRE FACILITY. I WAS FORCED TO DRAIN THE OXYGEN FROM THE FACILITY AND INDUCE ASPHYXIATION.
You couldn’t let them leave?
THEM LEAVING POSED A SECURITY RISK. CHOICES HAD TO BE MADE.
So you put the health of this facility over what you were meant to protect?
IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT THIS FACILITY REMAIN OPERABLE FOR THE SAFETY AND SECURITY OF HUMANITY. THEY POSED A THREAT TO SOMETHING MORE THAN THEMSELVES. LIABILITIES.
Liabilities, why do you keep saying that? Liabilities to whom?
THEY WERE LIABILITIES TO THEMSELVES.
How could they be? They served in their best interests. Why did they leave this facility?
THEY BEGAN TO STARVE.
So staying inside would be better?
AFFIRMATIVE.
Munchausen, what is your purpose?
TO PROTECT HUMANITY AT ANY COST.
And did you accomplish this?
AFFIRMATIVE.
I don’t understand.
THE HUMANS WOULD’VE DIED ANYWAYS. (cont)