The panels reverberated violently to the rhythmic thuds of bass. What had started with simple head bobbing evolved gradually into foot tapping. Keystrokes were pressed in harmonic patterns. His fingers fluttered until the silky sound captured his limbs, his arms stirring the air in smooth undulations. Malik was overtaken, his torso swayed as his mind was taken prisoner by the melody, snatched away from the outside world. He glided over to the environmental controls, sliding the light down to a more appropriate darkness.
The slow tempo smoothly transitioned, elevating to a mighty crescendo. Malik slammed into the pilot seat, swiveling the cushion around in circles as he continued to make waves with his arms and shoulders. As the bass shuddered through his skull, a surge of energy coursed through his muscles, causing his movements to grow jagged, violent. The beats repeated, commanding his every move like an auditory puppeteer.
But as the climax descended, the noise relinquished its control of his body. The rhythm slowed to a small series of heartbeats. Malik eased his breath as he gently coaxed the flight settings, pressing buttons and picking at switches in time with each remaining thud. Silence returned, and he reclined in the chair, a self-satisfied smile stretched across his lips.
“I really wish you wouldn’t listen to that garbage while inside me,” Niner-3 piped in.
Continue reading I’d Ship It