MidReal Story
Ethereal Pursuit: Unveiling Creation's Forbidden Secrets
Scenario: A fallen angel named Brimstone comes to earth and inhabits the dead body of a cooage student in order to persue her ambition to find the secret of creation.
Create my version of this story
Brimstone
fallen angel, no direct relationships, appears as a young woman with ethereal features, cunning and determined.
Lucas Hawthorne
Elara's best friend and a local barista, friends with Elara and Brimstone, tall with messy brown hair, loyal and skeptical.
Elara Jennings
the original body's owner and a college student, friends with other protagonists, typical college student appearance, curious and brave.
I was a fallen angel.
And I was going to find the secret of creation.
I awoke in a body that wasn’t mine, with no memory of how I got there.
The room was dark, and I could hear the sound of rain outside.
My eyes fluttered open, and I saw that I was lying on a bed in a small bedroom.
The walls were painted a soft pink, and there were posters of bands and movies on the walls.
A desk sat in the corner, covered in textbooks and papers.
I sat up, my head spinning as I tried to remember how I got here.
The last thing I remembered was falling from the sky, my wings burning as I plummeted to earth.
I had been cast out of heaven, banished for my curiosity and my desire to know the truth about creation.
I had been searching for the secret for eons, but it had always eluded me.
Now, it seemed that my quest had come to an end.
I tried to remember how I had gotten here, but the memories were hazy, like a dream I couldn’t quite remember.
I frowned, trying to piece together what had happened, but it was like trying to catch smoke with my hands.
The last thing I remembered was falling from the sky, and then…nothing.
My mind was a blank.
What had happened to me?
I looked down at myself and realized that I no longer had my celestial form.
My body was gone, replaced by that of a young woman with long dark hair and smooth, pale skin.
I pulled the covers off the bed and stood up, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet.
The sensation was strange, and I wiggled my toes, feeling the soft fibers tickle my skin.
Being in a human body was disorienting, to say the least.
I was used to having a much broader range of perceptions – being able to see in all directions at once, to hear things that were happening miles away – and the limited sensory input of this form was overwhelming at first.
I could smell the scent of Elara’s shampoo in her hair, feel the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.
I looked down at my new body, taking stock of its physical characteristics.
It was tall and slender, with long legs and delicate features.
My long dark hair fell in loose waves around my face, and my eyes were wide and expressive.
I was quite beautiful, as far as human standards went.
I moved experimentally, testing out my new limbs.
The body felt awkward and heavy, and it took me a moment to adjust to it.
It was much heavier than my celestial form, and there was something strange sloshing around inside me.
Blood, I realized with a sudden surge of revulsion.
Elara’s human blood was coursing through her veins, pumping steadily through her heart.
It felt warm and thick inside me, like some kind of foul liquid.
But as I moved around more, I realized that there were some upsides to this new form as well.
My senses were much sharper than they had been as an angel.
I could see colors more vividly, hear sounds more clearly, smell scents more acutely.
I could even feel things like temperature and pressure, sensations I had never experienced before.
And then there was the blinking.
It was fascinating.
I marveled at how quickly my eyelids moved, how they swept across my eyes, lubricating them to keep them moist.
It happened so quickly, so many times per minute, and yet most humans never even noticed.
It was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant.
Pain, on the other hand, was unpleasant indeed.
As soon as I moved, I became aware of an ache in my lower back, a dull throb that radiated up and down my spine.
I had never experienced pain before, not like this.
It was…interesting, in a way.
Every detail seemed to have been designed with purpose – from the ridges of skin on her fingertips to the complex web of organs inside her body.
There were so many of them – a heart that pumped blood through her veins, lungs that pulled oxygen from the air, intestines that digested food and expelled waste.
All of them so essential for her survival.
I ran my fingers over Elara’s skin, feeling the patterns of scars on her arms, legs, and back.
There were so many of them – thin red lines that crisscrossed her pale flesh like some kind of bizarre map.
I wondered how she had gotten them, what kinds of pain she had experienced to leave behind such marks.
And then I saw the ink.
It was hidden beneath her skin, letters and symbols etched into the soft flesh of her forearms and thighs.
Even though they were invisible to the naked eye, I could see them clearly.
Intrigued, I turned this way and that, examining them from every angle.
They were different than the scars, somehow – more vibrant, somehow…alive.
There were so many mysteries contained within this body – so many stories waiting to be told.
But first things first.
I needed to eat.
Pain made me realize how hungry I was.
I found the dorm room’s mini-fridge and opened it up.
There were a few sad-looking containers of leftovers inside, along with some wilted lettuce and shriveled grapes in the crisper drawer.
I had tasted food before – Elara’s memories contained many experiences of eating and drinking – and I was eager to experience it for myself.
I remembered the sweetness of honey on my tongue, the tang of salt on my lips.
I picked through the items in the fridge and eventually settled on a half-eaten burrito.
It was cold and congealed and didn’t taste nearly as good as the ones I’d eaten in Elara’s memories.
But it served its purpose.
I felt the ache in my stomach subside as I ate it.
It was an odd sensation – this idea of being full or hungry.
I had never felt this way before.
In fact, I had never felt anything at all.
As an angel, I was immune to the sensations of hunger and thirst.
I never tired or grew weak or sick.
I simply was.
But now I was something different – something more.
I had a body and I had needs and desires and sensations.
And I needed to make the most of them if I was going to find the secret of creation.
That’s what I kept reminding myself as I ate the burrito and drank a can of soda from the fridge and tried not to think about how strange it all felt.
The food had a sour taste on my tongue and made my stomach feel heavy and uncomfortable, but there was a strange kind of pleasure in eating it nonetheless.
I remembered Elara’s memories of eating chocolate cake and ice cream and how much she loved the way they tasted on her tongue.
This burrito wasn’t quite the same as those things (though the memories of those things made my mouth water), but it did give me a warm tingle in my belly that wasn’t altogether unpleasant, like the satisfaction of an itch being scratched or a sore muscle being rubbed.
i took stock of who i am and who i was and why i took this body in the first place.
My name is Elara Jennings.
I am twenty-one years old and in my third year at college.
Before today, I was an ordinary young woman with an ordinary life: a student with a part-time job at the local coffee shop and a bunch of friends who liked to get together on weekends for movie nights or game nights or just to hang out at each other’s houses watching TV or playing video games or baking cookies or whatever else we could think of to pass the time.
My best friend is a guy named Lucas Hawthorne; he works at the coffee shop with me and we’ve known each other for years.
We met when we were freshmen in high school and have been practically inseparable ever since.
Elara has two younger brothers named Jake and Mikey who she adores and misses now that she’s away at school.
She hasn’t seen them since she moved into the dorms at the beginning of the semester and she’s looking forward to going home for the holidays next month and spending some quality time with them.
That’s what I know about Elara Jennings from reading through her memories: her name and age and relationships, her likes and dislikes and favorite things.
There’s a lot I still don’t know: how this happened and why I am here and what it all means in the grand scheme of things.
But I’m working on it – on figuring out what happened and why and what comes next – and until I do I’m content to just be here in this body doing this thing and living this life for a little while.
It’s a strange and wonderful thing to have a body after all these years of not having one at all.
Of course, Elara’s body isn’t perfect – far from it – but it is hers and it is mine now too and I am grateful for it nonetheless: for her legs that allow me to stand up and walk around; for her hands that allow me to pick things up and touch things and feel things; for her eyes that allow me to see all the colors of the world around me; and so much more besides that is new and fascinating and wonderful to experience for the first time.
There are some parts of Elara’s body that are less than perfect than others – a few scars on her legs from falls and scrapes as a child (some of which were pretty bad) and on one arm from a nasty burn she got as a teenager – but these imperfections are interesting in their own way too.
