Tesla Project

Starting an animated story project about Nikola Tesla. Here is the story as it stands so far:

One night in Croatia in 1856, a child was born into not just our dimension, but into a dimension of electro magnetic waves and virtual visualization that we in the 21st century are only just beginning to enter into now.

Stars filled the sky; the eyes of former galaxies finally burning down on this earth long after anyone is left to see through them. Waves of static energy swayed through the ionosphere and down into the vast expanse between that and the Earth’s crust. Lightning bolts struck the dusty ground and ignited charges of Schumann resonances that crackled through to the Earth’s core. 

The hanging of the moon announced midnight as an electric cry into the storm announced the arrival of the newborn Nikola Tesla. 

As the energy of that night surged through the Earth’s atmosphere, so too did it surge through Nikola Tesla; accessing the very atoms of his being. The Balance of protons and neutrons in each atom swayed uncontrollably as the electrical charges pulsed through the very air comprising his first breaths. The Sodium-Potassium gates in his cell membranes flew open to create an immense connection with the electrical environment and electrical impulses from the very waves of the Universe flew from his nerve endings to his brain synapses. His very first thoughts and emotions were triggered by the electrical energy of the Universe itself; it had become as a voice inside his head, the only voice he’d ever known, his voice. 

As this young boy grew, he communicated and interacted with dimensions that others at the time could not even begin to fathom. He played with electrical fire in his mind; floating in a permanent state of limbo between the reality of matter which he saw in front of his eyes and the reality of electro magnetic waves which he saw behind them.

Now, on January 7th 1943, as he lies on crisp, white sheets in room 3327 of the New Yorker Hotel, he finally allows the two worlds to merge around him, wholly and completely. He realises that all of his life he has been afraid to truly let his visions unite; to let a multiverse view supersede his rigid disposition of tangible and intangible reality. All of the messages that he has filtered for so many years flow freely through his body. Membranes ignite and atoms shake. His fear that allowing this to happen may mean never returning fully to either world as a separate one from the other begins to leave him; the responsibility of conveying what he understands, of translating the electrical impulses of the Earth and of space to his fellow men, dissipates into the layers of light unfolding around him.

Tesla’s lips part ways for a a haunting mixture of Buddhist and Shaman chants to manifest as vibrating light shows around his head; appearing as two-dimensional walls of paper-thin  rainbow, floating at regular intervals from each other, in long sheets that wave and bend in a manner seeming both lagging and infinite. The rainbow sheets start off small, circling his head as a crown of interlacing colours, but soon become large and uncontrollable and they  cascade throughout the room like sporadic waterfalls with no rivers to source them or pools from them to form. He breaks them up with his hand; creating future time and space.

Tiny blue sparks glow from his fingertips and bolts of bright white electric light pulse in and out of the room around his bed. Photons slip between parallell dimensions and tap messages from them all through photons and shadow photons, through strings of time and space. He taps into the giant membrane and allows his own electric pulses to run through it: his heartbeat connects with the pulse of the universe itself. He leaves his body, pulsates through an infinite membrane that floats in space; he glides as a billion neutrinos that fly faster than the speed of light, gathering zero mass, the very membrane of the Universe itself beating with the electrical pulses of his heart.  

He laughs, the booming vibrations swelling from his chest and erupting from his windpipe in a crackle of static and colour. His left hand scratches furiously at the wooden edge of his bed and shavings of varnish and and oak pile on the floor. “The past is their’s..” he whispers, “let them have it. LET THEM HAVE IT!” he shouts, “LET THEM HAVE THE PAST, FOR IT IS THEIRS!”

His final cries burst forth and echo through the ears of those not yet ready to hear them, those in the past, in his present.

As he allows himself to be carried away on an electrical tsunami  of his own creation, his empty body surges with the full electro magnetic force of Space. It hits a group of cells in his heart called his sinoatrial node, sending a lightning bolt of electricity through is right atrium that causes the blood to clot and his heart to stop. At the age of 46, Nikola Tesla finally abandoned his crusade to take us with him into the light and left us all to face the darkness without him. 

But through this man, the Universe communicated with the human race through science, in a way that has previously only been associated with spirituality of juju. Nikola Tesla brought the hidden magic of the Universe closer to the tangible world that we all inhabit than anyone else has been able to do before or since, and for any who wish to follow him, he left a trail of clues that the top scientists of the present are only just beginning to decipher. The electric man remains now, ironically, hidden in shadows, shrouded in secrets. His body remains in room 3327 to this day, floating in a black hole of ever expanding time and gravity that lies beyond the sight of our eyes. But if your ever in the area, and by Tesla’s reasoning, you could be right now, you can illuminate the sight of his floating shell in the same way that you can illuminate the secrets of his connection with the universe. You simply need to become truly enlightened.

And should you ever enter this historic room, and find yourself still standing in the mundanity of darkness, you can at least be privy to the final message that Tesla left upon this Earth for all to see in cold, hard matter. The furious scratchings of his left hand upon the wood of the bed: “...but the future is mine”.