Filth…mud…trash…the puffs of steam and smoke clogging the air with their poison odour, the clogging scent of brunt bodies and melted steel filling the underground pits of Leviathan, mass crowds of people working, living, dying all at once in this underground hell. This was Southland, one of many so called ‘slave-towns’ that made up the larger underground of Hellmouth. Millions of slaves inhabited this…this Hellmouth, five thousand alone were said to live in Southland, this sprawling underground pit of a town nothing short of breath-taking if not disturbing. The soul of the town was broken and stripped of life, the enslaved and will-less townships constantly being dragged in the mud by the “Khanate Pillars”, the Hellmouth dweller band company charged with maintaining order in the townships, yet all the brought was sorrow.
Life ,if you want to even call it that, was bleak and degenerate amongst the slaves. Treated as animals, kept as animals, the slaves were nothing more than beast of burden. The underground was always cold, always damp. Its people lived in shallow holes in the wall, forced to work twenty hour shifts, only a five hour break a day was given, the people almost certain to die from cholera or starvation within their third decade of life. Some rose above, their merit constantly checked and graded by the all seeing eye of the computer, its glossy red eyes always watching, and its invisible ears listening in on everything. All there was to eat was mice, bread and a foul paste called tutali made from the bodies of the dead and softened with whatever liquid they had available. Sickness was everywhere in the underground, even the smallest sore could have you dead the next morning. But the people went on, the people continued to strive to survive and survive they did.
They had survived for years; it was a way of life for those below. And some were tired of the constant strain of living, somewhere outraged to have to continue to wallow in filth like animals, to be beat into a coma for no real reason then looking at a Khan funny. This was not life, this wasn’t even worthy of being called death, this was nothing, oblivion if you must; it is an utter and complete waste of human life and potential. This was the opinion of one, one who worked on as his fingers cramped up from the strain of pushing his cart, one who silently cried inside as his back bled from the whips of a nearby Khan. This was the focal point of one’s belief, the jumping point for his higher fate. Some might call him a prophet for things to come, some might call him a saviour of the people, but I, I for one just call him Michal and that is what he will always be to me.
I strained, I yelped, I cried with pain, my back was bloodied and its skin was stripped off, slowly peeling from the aching and blistered muscles; my fingers were aching with nerve racking pain, the dirt clogged cuts on my palms surely my death mark as my cries of pain only stirred anger with the accompanying Khan, his grunts and menacing stare shushing me for the time being as I walked with a limp towards my home, my place of dwelling, whatever you wish to call it. He grabbed me by the neck as we neared the opening, his monster sized hands wrapping around my scrawny neck, his eyes bloodshot with rage and stress, his teeth grinding as he threw me on the ground, sighing angrily as he walked away, my pain bursting forth once more as I whimpered to myself, my slow limps being drummed out by the sound of factory work, the others all watching me with hesitation as I stumbled into my hole, the gasps of my mother and sister giving me the strength I needed to let go and drift into unconsciousness.
I opened my eyes slowly; the dimly light hole of a home illuminated by a small candle in each corner, my mother standing over me as my sister sat in the corner, trying to catch our food. I began to stand, my back still aching with pain and my fingers still stuck in place, dirty linin wrappings covering my torso and palms. I looked around slowly, gazing around my small, dirt ridden home before sighing and falling back unto my cot, my mother sobbing silently as she stood and went to help my sister in the corner, her wrinkled up and shrivelled frame the work of thirty years of backbreaking work and child birth, I and my sister the only remaining children out of her “litter” of ten. I again stood and looked around, moving my battered left hand across my face slowly, the dirt and grime sliding off only to be replaced by a new coat of filth.
“Ah ha!...I caught one…finally!” My sister exclaimed loudly, her smile making me share her joy, her short cut black hair matching my own buzz cut almost, her short, slightly rounded face something of petty beauty, another thing no one need down below. I replied to her slowly, my voice raspy and with traces of doubt in my voice, my words no doubt causing disappointment in the small girl who stood before me holding to rats, their bleach white fur not a good sign, “Those are probably unsafe to eat…damn….you…you remember what happened to Nathan right? He ate one of those things and was dead the next shift.” . She gazed away from me for a moment and took the rats to the small pot in the middle of my home, the small pit in the middle of the floor holding a small fire inside of it, the girl quickly placing both creatures inside a small, dented pot and smiling, ignoring me completely.
Hours passed as I waited for the food, my constant waiting agitating to say the least as my mother and sister congregated around the pit, “cooking” the food slowly, turning the rats in the pot, only a small amount of water inside, the rest was either spit or piss, something that made me shudder as I thought of eating it. But…but that’s all I can get, all I can really afford to get down here. “I want to leave….I want to escape from this…this shit hole. I..I just don’t…I just can’t.” I sighed as the thoughts crept into my mind, my throat drying out as I thought it over and over again that I wanted to leave, that I wanted to live. I slowly drifted to sleep once more again, my eyes shutting slowly as the last sight of my mother and sister left my mind, my thoughts racing with a galloping pace, my dreams filled with a peaceful place, a place of calm equality….something I’ve never heard or seen….something I want to build…something, I want to be a part of eventually.
Thunder boomed out, the sounds of guns, men and women screaming, children crying and mass crowds running. Chaos ran rampant as I woke from my state, my gasping horror bringing tears to my eyes as my sister lay dead, a bullet going through her head, her deaden eyes filled with blank remorse, filling me with fright. My mother was nowhere to be seen, I feared the worse as I stood up slowly, my legs creaking with pain and strain, my limps slow and steady as a mass crowd of people ran, smiles on their faces as they ran towards the large blast doors above us, their futile attempts to bash through halted by the guards gunshots, the slave revolution of Southland beginning. I limped slowly out of my home and limped with the crowd, the all seeing red eyes blinking as they saw me, my anxiety worsening and growing as I feared for what was happening involved me in some dreadful way. But I pressed on, slow and steady yet determined…this was my chance…my one and only chance to escape.
The wail of gunfire filled the crowds ears as the Khan came storming from their barracks, the dark black armour of the mercenary guards scaring me as I limped towards an alleyway, the cries of women and children deafening me momentarily as everyone was cut down by the gun fire. Yet the people pushed on, a large mass of frantic animals determined to escape and be set free, the small group of Khan quickly overrun by people as I limped through the alleyway, my panting breath echoing in the small crevasse as I ran away towards the blast door, looking for another way out as the fighting around me continued, my fear bursting forth as small drips of tears fell from my eyes.
But then I saw it, an opening, a ladder to the top, my fear bursting away as I saw it and limped forward, a large smile on my face. I felt the tears well up inside me and fall freely from my face as I continued to limp towards the ladder, the whispering voice of some being or force constantly egging me on to go and escape, the cries and sounds of gunfire and explosions only making it louder as I tried to shut it out of my mind. I heard the whizz of something in the air as I clenched my hands around the first bar of the ladder, the pain horribly taking over my fingers as I clenched harder, yet my only chance at freedom too good to let go of over a pain. But soon the whizzing got louder and louder, closer and closer until everything went…..until everything went white and all the lights soon went dim…my grasp on everything slipping as I remembered being dragged across the ground…..all of the lights disappearing as I fell out of touch with reality.
“Today a small slave rebellion was put to end by the Khanate Pillars company. It is unknown how the rebellion actually started but thanks to the efforts of our brave Khan Security forces it was quickly ended…
…..The number of slaves is said to number in the hundreds…an official estimate by the CalculX computer is still being withheld from the public at this time…..
……At this time, we pray for the families of the deceased Khan members. We cruse the souls of the slaves and damn the souls of those who were thankfully killed…."
“….Hey buddy wake up…We have work to do….”
Life ,if you want to even call it that, was bleak and degenerate amongst the slaves. Treated as animals, kept as animals, the slaves were nothing more than beast of burden. The underground was always cold, always damp. Its people lived in shallow holes in the wall, forced to work twenty hour shifts, only a five hour break a day was given, the people almost certain to die from cholera or starvation within their third decade of life. Some rose above, their merit constantly checked and graded by the all seeing eye of the computer, its glossy red eyes always watching, and its invisible ears listening in on everything. All there was to eat was mice, bread and a foul paste called tutali made from the bodies of the dead and softened with whatever liquid they had available. Sickness was everywhere in the underground, even the smallest sore could have you dead the next morning. But the people went on, the people continued to strive to survive and survive they did.
They had survived for years; it was a way of life for those below. And some were tired of the constant strain of living, somewhere outraged to have to continue to wallow in filth like animals, to be beat into a coma for no real reason then looking at a Khan funny. This was not life, this wasn’t even worthy of being called death, this was nothing, oblivion if you must; it is an utter and complete waste of human life and potential. This was the opinion of one, one who worked on as his fingers cramped up from the strain of pushing his cart, one who silently cried inside as his back bled from the whips of a nearby Khan. This was the focal point of one’s belief, the jumping point for his higher fate. Some might call him a prophet for things to come, some might call him a saviour of the people, but I, I for one just call him Michal and that is what he will always be to me.
***The Stars....The Stars***
I strained, I yelped, I cried with pain, my back was bloodied and its skin was stripped off, slowly peeling from the aching and blistered muscles; my fingers were aching with nerve racking pain, the dirt clogged cuts on my palms surely my death mark as my cries of pain only stirred anger with the accompanying Khan, his grunts and menacing stare shushing me for the time being as I walked with a limp towards my home, my place of dwelling, whatever you wish to call it. He grabbed me by the neck as we neared the opening, his monster sized hands wrapping around my scrawny neck, his eyes bloodshot with rage and stress, his teeth grinding as he threw me on the ground, sighing angrily as he walked away, my pain bursting forth once more as I whimpered to myself, my slow limps being drummed out by the sound of factory work, the others all watching me with hesitation as I stumbled into my hole, the gasps of my mother and sister giving me the strength I needed to let go and drift into unconsciousness.
I opened my eyes slowly; the dimly light hole of a home illuminated by a small candle in each corner, my mother standing over me as my sister sat in the corner, trying to catch our food. I began to stand, my back still aching with pain and my fingers still stuck in place, dirty linin wrappings covering my torso and palms. I looked around slowly, gazing around my small, dirt ridden home before sighing and falling back unto my cot, my mother sobbing silently as she stood and went to help my sister in the corner, her wrinkled up and shrivelled frame the work of thirty years of backbreaking work and child birth, I and my sister the only remaining children out of her “litter” of ten. I again stood and looked around, moving my battered left hand across my face slowly, the dirt and grime sliding off only to be replaced by a new coat of filth.
“Ah ha!...I caught one…finally!” My sister exclaimed loudly, her smile making me share her joy, her short cut black hair matching my own buzz cut almost, her short, slightly rounded face something of petty beauty, another thing no one need down below. I replied to her slowly, my voice raspy and with traces of doubt in my voice, my words no doubt causing disappointment in the small girl who stood before me holding to rats, their bleach white fur not a good sign, “Those are probably unsafe to eat…damn….you…you remember what happened to Nathan right? He ate one of those things and was dead the next shift.” . She gazed away from me for a moment and took the rats to the small pot in the middle of my home, the small pit in the middle of the floor holding a small fire inside of it, the girl quickly placing both creatures inside a small, dented pot and smiling, ignoring me completely.
Hours passed as I waited for the food, my constant waiting agitating to say the least as my mother and sister congregated around the pit, “cooking” the food slowly, turning the rats in the pot, only a small amount of water inside, the rest was either spit or piss, something that made me shudder as I thought of eating it. But…but that’s all I can get, all I can really afford to get down here. “I want to leave….I want to escape from this…this shit hole. I..I just don’t…I just can’t.” I sighed as the thoughts crept into my mind, my throat drying out as I thought it over and over again that I wanted to leave, that I wanted to live. I slowly drifted to sleep once more again, my eyes shutting slowly as the last sight of my mother and sister left my mind, my thoughts racing with a galloping pace, my dreams filled with a peaceful place, a place of calm equality….something I’ve never heard or seen….something I want to build…something, I want to be a part of eventually.
***The Light....The Dark***
100110010101010101001010-1010101010010101010-Storage Complete-Slave Tagged
111101010101010101010100-1010101010010100101-Calculation Matched-Action Needed
100010101001010010010100-1001010101101001001-Authorization Coded-Authorization: Green
10101010---202----2899282----189293---ERROR---ERROR---Move To Next Step
1001010101010100101010-1010101000101010101-Operation Bastion Tagged-Operation:Green
1010101010101010010010-1010010100101010101-Slave Pens Unlocked-Pen Status: Free
***All of The Lights***
Thunder boomed out, the sounds of guns, men and women screaming, children crying and mass crowds running. Chaos ran rampant as I woke from my state, my gasping horror bringing tears to my eyes as my sister lay dead, a bullet going through her head, her deaden eyes filled with blank remorse, filling me with fright. My mother was nowhere to be seen, I feared the worse as I stood up slowly, my legs creaking with pain and strain, my limps slow and steady as a mass crowd of people ran, smiles on their faces as they ran towards the large blast doors above us, their futile attempts to bash through halted by the guards gunshots, the slave revolution of Southland beginning. I limped slowly out of my home and limped with the crowd, the all seeing red eyes blinking as they saw me, my anxiety worsening and growing as I feared for what was happening involved me in some dreadful way. But I pressed on, slow and steady yet determined…this was my chance…my one and only chance to escape.
The wail of gunfire filled the crowds ears as the Khan came storming from their barracks, the dark black armour of the mercenary guards scaring me as I limped towards an alleyway, the cries of women and children deafening me momentarily as everyone was cut down by the gun fire. Yet the people pushed on, a large mass of frantic animals determined to escape and be set free, the small group of Khan quickly overrun by people as I limped through the alleyway, my panting breath echoing in the small crevasse as I ran away towards the blast door, looking for another way out as the fighting around me continued, my fear bursting forth as small drips of tears fell from my eyes.
But then I saw it, an opening, a ladder to the top, my fear bursting away as I saw it and limped forward, a large smile on my face. I felt the tears well up inside me and fall freely from my face as I continued to limp towards the ladder, the whispering voice of some being or force constantly egging me on to go and escape, the cries and sounds of gunfire and explosions only making it louder as I tried to shut it out of my mind. I heard the whizz of something in the air as I clenched my hands around the first bar of the ladder, the pain horribly taking over my fingers as I clenched harder, yet my only chance at freedom too good to let go of over a pain. But soon the whizzing got louder and louder, closer and closer until everything went…..until everything went white and all the lights soon went dim…my grasp on everything slipping as I remembered being dragged across the ground…..all of the lights disappearing as I fell out of touch with reality.
***Wading Through Mud***
“Today a small slave rebellion was put to end by the Khanate Pillars company. It is unknown how the rebellion actually started but thanks to the efforts of our brave Khan Security forces it was quickly ended…
…..The number of slaves is said to number in the hundreds…an official estimate by the CalculX computer is still being withheld from the public at this time…..
……At this time, we pray for the families of the deceased Khan members. We cruse the souls of the slaves and damn the souls of those who were thankfully killed…."
“….Hey buddy wake up…We have work to do….”
***Cheers...Cheers***
