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by Ghondra » Wed Jun 18, 2014 10:01 pm
Exelia wrote:It's all good till you have to wear a badge.
by Soldati Senza Confini » Thu Jun 19, 2014 9:32 pm
Tekania wrote:Welcome to NSG, where informed opinions get to bump-heads with ignorant ideology under the pretense of an equal footing.
by Super-Llamaland » Sat Jun 21, 2014 4:28 am
by Nazi Flower Power » Sat Jun 21, 2014 12:42 pm
Super-Llamaland wrote:Houston, we have an entry! If you haven't seen me around here before, it's because I've mostly kept to RPing, particularly NS Sports. Anyway, here's my submission.Gone in the Morning
Written by Super-Llamaland
one
They say that they can hear you scream in the midsts of the night. If only they actually could. They can put up their billboards, they can run their advertisements, and they can tell you at any time, any time at all, that you are safe in Whiting Point and that law enforcement can arrive at any place in the Township, rain, sleet, hail, human-goat war, all within thirty-two seconds.
But they need to hear you first.
And as they say, "at two in the morning, nobody can hear you scream."
two
Blissful tedium was Todd's life. He lived out thirteen years smothered in the stuff, and he wasn't about to crawl out of it anytime soon. Soccer, trumpet, and school all played their role in this amorphous happiness. He had his moments of excitement, but they were few and far between.
Todd, at thirteen still not one to seek adventure, brushed his teeth and pulled the covers over his head somewhen in the vicinity of half past ten...
three
and awoke to a low buzz. A cricket chirped outside. He blinked, looked at the clock (2:08, it read) and yawned dully. He tried to sleep again, heard again the buzz, now accompanied by a dull thudding, and got up and stumbled in the direction of the bathroom.
A violent noise, best described as thu-POWWW! with notes of krririscch and CRASSSSHH, exploded from the downstairs door and knocked the boy over. He blinked, ears ringing, and stumbled back up. He remarked in sleep-induced drowsiness that the racket sounded a lot like the door being kicked over.
Todd froze in realization, giving the man behind him a great opportunity to slip a bag over his head and rip the drawstring shut. Todd clumsily pitched over in drowsy shock, and another man quickly trussed him up.
Survival kicked in, adrenaline surged into his mind, and Todd bravely began to roll away, to the amusement of his abductors. Powerfully flopping by one man, grinning and sweating, he surged forwards and rolled down the stairs.
"Ow!" he cried as he bounced off the third step from the top, waves of pain surging up his leg as he somehow flipped around and landed on his head.
"Ack!" he screamed whilst his arm cracked on the seventh step, sending him into a reeling spin down the long staircase. All the way down he screamed, spinning dizzily into the arms of a third kidnapper, who knocked him unconscious
Despite this, he left no trace that he had left. It was the perfect crime, utterly unsolvable. Thirty-two seconds after the door shattered, a solitary white van drove off into the sable night.
four
Todd awoke twice in the next twenty-four hours.
At the first, he blinked awake. It was still pitch black outside the van, careening as it flung itself off various cracks and potholes in the country road, kicking up prodigious clouds of dust as it did so.
Everywhere hurt. Aches spread themselves throughout his body; infernos pitched against his mind. Even when he yawned, a fiendish agony unraveled against his face. As his head slowly cleared, he overheard something in the midst of his muddled mind.
"So, where are we taking this kid?" the first man, possibly the driver, asked.
"Don't know what the Institute thinks," replied a second.
Todd blinked and continued to listen.
"Have no idea what they do to these kids."
"Don't you feel bad? I hear they get tortured."
"Eh, it pays well for you," muttered a third, "just get on with your dang job."
"Shut up, Johnson, it's not like you pay us." said the second from the seat in front of him.
"What?" Johnson asked slowly, reaching for his hip. The driver coughed nervously
"I said, 'Shut-'"
With a deafening crack, Johnson's pistol went off, sending blood spraying into the air. Todd gagged as a splatter hit him square in the face, while the man in the second row slumped back into his chair. Johnson casually pocketed the gun and opened a window. Terrified and desperate, Todd swore that he would not allow them to capture him, whereupon he fell asleep again.
But by the second time he woke up, they already had him.
five
White. It was white. White fluorescents shone upon a gleaming white tile floor. All around him lay dull white machines next to pure white walls. Everywhere lay white.
Todd blinked. Two men were there. One was the kidnapper, the shooter, from what he thought was the day before. The other was new, silvery hair accenting a wiry frame.
He tried to look up and found he couldn't. His neck was strapped to a metal chair, wires slithering out of the chair, around his head, and into various instruments. Todd swallowed, knowing that he would have to take whatever torture they gave him.
"Ready?" asked Johnson.
"Ready," said the silver-haired one, sliding on a pair of goggles and pushing a button. snick.
Men in sledgehammers assaulted his mind. Todd reeled back, gasping, every neuron exploding in fireworks of exquisite agony. It shot forward in waves, sizzling through reason and logic and replacing them with pain and fear. Todd screamed; a machine was there to cover his mouth with a cheerful whirr. The pain took over, and he vomited into the machine as it jumped from mind to body, sending fiery aches throughout his arms and burning tingles about his legs. His hearing crashed and burned, but from the chaotic jumble he picked out a few words. He would find a way to escape this dystopian mess.
"Less ABC Beta…" somebody yelled, "…will fire…Johnson…overload….you'll fry his brain!"
"Yeah…only chance…overload…perform…circuits…analysis now…theoretically…strong one…scouting…superhydration key…add more…"
A few more buttons were pressed and the pain, which couldn't get any worse, got worse. Todd screamed as the siege on his mind broke through with ballistas. His mind was no longer in pain, it was pain. He screamed and screamed into the steady hand of the robot. Todd attempted to bat it away, but his arms were tied to his body. Explosions went off in his mind as his mind began to slowly numb. He could hear. There had to be a way out.
"Now reaching peak capacity, 12.3 megas. Current output 12.16," Johnson reported.
"Calculations say 5 centiliters, Johnson. Fire it in for peak capacity," replied the silver-haired man. A fresh wave of pain, exacerbating anytime else, dully absorbed into his mind. Todd couldn't feel his arms. He tried to move them about, do anything to save himself, but the ropes were too strong.
"Now approaching, 12.23 megas. 12.26. 12.29…peak capacity reached. 12.3. Mental factor approaching thirty from seventy." Alright, Baker, fire it up."
"Never seen one so high before," Baker remarked, "highest I've seen was 10.8. Peak Mental seventy means he was rebellious, too."
"This is the year, Baker," Johnson mumbled solemnly, reaching over to flick a lever.
"Alright. Subliminal is a go."
Can you hear me, Todd? Think of an animal. Any one, doesn't matter. Todd dully attempted to nod and thought of a tiger.
"Mental fourteen from thirty, capacity down to 12.24. Estimated three minutes remaining."
"Looking good."
"Mental six from fourteen, capacity down to 12.03. Estimated two and a half."
"I think it'll flatline at a minute or two, Johnson. Better start."
"Mental two from six, capacity up to 12.05. Estimated two and a quarter."
Todd doggedly continued to think of a tiger. Maybe if he did what they said, he could find a way out. He thought he saw a flicker on the ground.
"Mental one point six from two, capacity stable at 12.05. Estimated two."
"Looking good. Initiating."
Todd pulled from the ground with no idea of what to do. He thought of a tiger, and suddenly he saw a tail flickering on the ground. He continued to pull, drawing elements from the ground below.
"Mental point eight from one point six, capacity flatlining at 12.04. Estimated one and three quarters."
"We'll pull out thirty seconds clear if this works."
"It will, Baker."
The tail began to flicker and grow as Todd continued to think. Legs sprouted out.
"Mental point five from point eight, capacity flatlining at 12.04. Estimated one and a half."
His fatigued mind began to grind to a halt. He groaned, his mind cleared a little. What was he doing? They could torture him all they wanted, they wouldn't subjugate him.
"Mental up to twenty-four, capacity down to 8.56. Estimated twenty seconds."
"What?" Baker cried.
"Monitor doesn't lie. Oh God, we have to pump in more ABC-Beta."
"You'll kill him!"
"You still have Subliminal tuned to open!"
You'll kill him flashed through Todd's mind. He wasn't going to obey them. It echoed grimly, a promise of certain death. Was his only choice to obey? He had no chance to ponder as fresh pain surged and numbed again. He gasped in pain. The tiger flickered and reappeared, and he was caught back in their orders.
"Mental down to eleven from twenty-four, capacity up to 9.45. Estimated forty-five seconds."
"Oh God, we're not going to clear this."
"Kick in Subliminal Two!"
"It's way too early, Johnson!"
Todd watched as Johnson shoved Baker out of the way and flicked open the lever.
"You don't know how to operate Subliminal Two!"
"I have to!" Johnson screamed.
Todd. Todd. Can you hear me.
"You're doing it ALL WRONG!"
Todd's vision began to fade to black. He felt terribly sleepy.
"Mental flatlined at eleven, capacity at 10.59. Twenty seconds."
"Fine! Let me operate Subliminal."
Todd. Todd. We can return you to Whiting Point. Just do as I ask.
"Mental flatlined at eleven, capacity at 6.63. Five seconds."
If you don't, you'll be punished. This is the only way. We can go on an adventure.
"Capacity at 15.82. One minute. ABC-Beta at 385% recommended dose."
Todd was one to seek out adventure, wasn't he? He thought. No more tedium. Adventure….adventure…
But it seemed wrong. These were not the right men to work for.
"Capacity at 3.62. He's all over the map. Ten seconds. ABC-Beta output at five centiliters a second, it's the only way to keep this chance alive."
"You'll kill him!"
"Capacity at 15.02. Forty-five seconds."
"Capacity at 5.20. Fifteen seconds. ABC-Beta output at ten centiliters a second."
"Capacity at 18.06. Three minutes."
"Johnson, you're frying his brain," Baker implored. His concern was respectfully ignored.
"Capacity at 1.19. Five seconds. ABC-Beta output increasing to thirty-five centiliters a second. Total outflow at 1592% recommended dose."
"You'll either get in the history books or destroy him."
"You did the first twelve. I've got this one. Capacity at 4.20. Five seconds. ABC-Beta output increasing to eighty centiliters per second."
"How do we even have that much ABC-Beta?" Baker screamed. "You'll financially ruin us!"
Todd, still enthralled by adventure, dreamt numbly on the chair. He was asleep. In front of him, unnoticed by the two screaming partners, was a living, breathing, tiger.
"Well, even if we end up shattering him, we can use him to train the others."
"This revolution will end well, Baker. About time we got a grant for this stuff. It'd pay off the kidnappers, that's what it would do."
Todd, asleep, pledged himself to the revolution.
six
Todd sat down at his desk and flipped open the newspaper. It was going to be a busy first day back in Whiting Point. He'd had a strange fascination with the place after Johnson's suspicious death at the hands of the Easternofascists.
THE WHITING GAZETTE
September 30, 2035
SHOCKING REPORT: CORRUPTED ELECTION!
-by Martin Courier, lead columnist
After the election of High President Alexander Baker to the office of Imperial President-Elect of the newly formed United American Republic last fall over Easterners John Fitzgerald and Melvin Karros by an 800,000-vote margin, reports say that the election's results may be corrupted. Indeed, after Baker's slander campaign showed minimal support in polls after the death of Vice President-Elect running mate Eric Johnson late last fall due to natural causes, and Baker has no plans to share the power with anyone else…more on page A5
Todd picked up the phone and dialed his contact in Seattle.
"Hello?"
"Courier must die," he said, and hung up. Ever since that day a decade ago, Johnson and Baker had opened up a corridor to power for him. Johnson's death had hurt him as if the man was his own father, and here was Courier saying that the two were corrupt, child-torturing jerks. On his first day, he was supposed to interview candidates for some kitchen position, and the first of which was due in three minutes.
seven
She was regal in posture but sad in expression, her face bearing a great loss. Todd looked up as she entered in dirty but not tattered clothes, saying a drab hello, whereupon she dropped her resume on the ground and stepped back in shock.
"Todd!- After twelve years! You-you were here all along!"
"Um, ma'am, I-"
"Why, son! Your father and I have been-"
"You aren't my mother," Todd said confusedly.
"Why-"
"You're nothing," he said, and picked up the resume and read it. It was impressively unimpressive.
The other candidates, much more sane, took only an hour or so, and he selected one of the better ones and left work early, tunelessly humming a trumpet song he had heard from some place or another.
by StellarGate » Sat Jun 21, 2014 6:21 pm
by Nazi Flower Power » Sat Jun 21, 2014 9:09 pm
StellarGate wrote:Look another story!
PaymentMy name is Crystal.
I live in a world where everything you know and love costs money. The price may be as low as 1 credit, but it still costs you.
There are things in this world that cost more money than most will ever make in their life. Certain houses, tickets, space exploration. To solve this problem our world had turned to a not so simple system.
Your children are worth money. After an intensive study, hours of research, the world set up the 'perfect' system. Every year, from birth to 17 while under the care of their parents, children will be price marked with a year-long temporary tattoo until another is gotten. Children deemed prettier are worth more, twins and triplets worth more for science, teens price goes up with sports or high test scores. When a child's parent wants something expensive, if their child is worth the amount, they can trade the child for that thing. If someone is poor and is missing rent, their children will be sold and the extra leftover from fees and costs will be given to them.
This has turned us into objects. Genetic engineering is expensive, but that hasn't stopped parents from finding 'perfect' mates to make expensive children. I can already here you ask 'what happens to these children afterwards?'
Some get bought into new families. My friend Amanda had this happen when her folks bought a new car. Her name is May Tai Rae now. She wrote me a letter once saying that living with them is horrible. Never saw or heard from her again. Some are drafted into the work force as cute ways of advertising things or testing products. Some of the ugly ones just get killed and their body parts recycled or sold to doctors who want to test their medications.
What am I? I am a Perfection Child. I am tall, slender, my long blonde hair falls in nice curls which compliment my blue eyes. My skin is smooth, without a single flaw. I am an only child, my parents will never have another child, so that makes me worth more. When I hit puberty, everything filled out just right, I remember the surprise on the Pricer's face when the calculated total for me came up. I'm worth billions. My parents won't tell me, I can't read the tattooed barcode, but I know its a lot. Enough to fund a colony mission I think. Think of it. My parents never loved me. They helped with my homework sometimes, kept me out of trouble, but to find out that you have an asset worth enough to bring a a few thousand people with you and rule over them without any direction from anyone else? That's it. I thought I'd make it to 18, be able to flee and no matter what my parents do they wouldn't be able to get me back. I would be an adult.
But I wasn't able to. I am 17, standing in front of a mirror as my 'mom' adjust my beautiful dress and makes a comment about all the people I was going to make happy by funding this expedition. I didn't smile. This was wrong, I knew it was. She stood up straight, fixing a lock of my hair and left, planning on calling me once the initial bids were in.
I looked over to the computer terminal. it could be my last chance to use one, as the person that buys me... I have no idea what they would do to me. I walk over and sit down. Typing quickly I search 'colony expedition,' just to see what my parents would be doing. Then I frown at the top suggestion. A news story. I click and low and behold its about my parents expedition. They were going to test a new type of colony ship. Most of the people going were, and I quote 'sponsored by various people, to perform certain duties at the colony.' They don't listen, the colony gets its funding yanked. But what intriqued me more is who the colonists were. They were all children bought and given to this new adventure, set to learn new skills in stasis on the way to the colony, and considering the way stasis worked, they would be grown up by the time they get there. The article was glowing, but I saw something different. A chance. I knew where the launch site was, it was only about 40 miles, barely a half an hour for an aircar.
I stand, ripping off my dress and shoving on more comfortable clothes, a pair of pants and a regular shirt, I mess up my hair and pull it back, wiping off the make-up which had taken hours to perfect and grabbed the air car key which I had stolen from my parents room for when I 18 and able to leave. Well I was leaving early.
I open the door to my room and run down the hall, for all my parents' money, they did not have security, they thought I was good girl. I find my way to garage and look around, nothing there except the cars, the bidders probably were all dropped off. I grin and hop in a car, those simulations I did in the dead of night would pay off and I start the car and leave, not once looking back.
I pull the car into the parking building and throw the key as hard as possible over a ledge. No going back. Not now. With a sigh I walk demurely over to the guards who had not seen me drive here and they straightened.
"Girl, what are you doing here alone?"
I look up from the ground. "I am sponsored, my sponsors did not wish to be ashamed by being with me."
The guards nodded and one led me inside to a processing area, it looked like a very large classroom with no decorations, no guards, no cameras. I sit down and wait till the door is closed. No one is talking, jut sitting, waiting.
After I am sure no one is poking their head in I stand and walk to the front, everyone stares at me, young eyes curious, some of the older untrustful. I take a breath. "Children, I know why you are here. For the colony expedition, let me tell you I am not a part of it."
"Then who are you?" An older boy, one who looked strong and tall, said.
"I am Crystal, the 'child' of the ones who wish to lead this colony." I respond. "I do not like being bought and sold for money, so I ran away, my producers thought I would be nice and listen and stay. They were wrong." I pause. "When do you start loading up?"
"I heard someone say once the bid is over the colony expedition amount." A young girl chimed in, wearing nothing but a ragged dress. "Someone will come in and start checking us in to sleep for a while."
I frown and then smile. "Then you know what we'll do, we will do the ultimate run away from home. We will learn what we need while sleeping, and when we awake, we won't need our 'parents' anymore. They never loved any of you, if they did, they would of at least sold you to a nice family, not to be test subjects for a new government toy."
A lot of the younger ones looked confused, most of the older ones however, seemed to grasp what she was saying.
"But once we get to this place and we are all grown up... who will be the leader?" A girl asked.
"I can do that, I was pretty good at math and I'm sure that the ones selling me have stuff which can be uploaded to my brain. when we all have children in the future, we won't sell them, we won't listen to the mean people who made this sort of thing possible." I kneel down and a young girl, no older than maybe 5, walked up. She was pretty, like me, an object of perfection, perfect black hair, slim cute face wearing a nice white dress. I reach out and touch her shoulder. "I'll make sure all of you are safe and loved." I stand back up, now who is with me?"
There was a pause from the children, all of them looking around and some whispering to each other. soon enough a few young ones raised their hands, and then more, and then finally the last hand went up and she smiled, sitting down in a seat and waiting.
It was a couple hours later, I had sweet talked my way into the 'leader' compartment. I now wore a special jumpsuit thing which would grow with my body if it did any more during stasis. the worker had actually believed that I was supposed to leader, he must not of been very smart, his speech was horrible, and I felt bad, but I was doing something for the greater good. I had bluffed saying I was being sponsored by the 'leaders' as the ultimate test of this new colony. No one seemed to bat an eye.
The doctor person stopped me in front of one of the two stasis chambers.
"Where is your other?" He asked and I sighed, looking down and wiping at my eye.
"He... died. A jealous investor killed him, he was so handsome. My investors granted my wish, I will go alone as leader. There is more than enough others to sustain a population without my input."
The doctor nodded and drew a vial and needle out of kit. He injected me with something and opened the stasis pod. "I'm sorry," he didn't sound too sorry, I was just an experiment after all, "this pod has a program which will teach you how to effectively lead. You will still need to learn when and where to apply these skills, but it will give you a foundation. After you go to sleep, the ship will be launched, as you are the last person to stasis."
I nod and get into the pod, laying back as the doctor closed the lid. I sighed and close my eyes, feeling an odd sensation creep over my skin even through the suit and suddenly everything goes dark.
In the control tower people begin to make preparations, firing up their computers and calling for the grounds to be cleared and air space to be free of traffic. the large supports near the ship begin to back away as the thrusters began to fire.
"1 minute to launch." someone called and a timer appeared on the large screen. I began to tick downwards and people were making sure everything was in order.
45 seconds.
30 seconds.
20 seconds.
10 seconds.
"Stop!" A voice called and everyone whipped their heads around to the two people in the door. It was Crystal's 'parents' along with a guy in a very expensive suit. "That ship is not supposed to launch yet! It was ours!"
It was too late.
The timer reached zero and suddenly thrusters along with other technology meant to ease the load fired off, lifting the ship off the ground in a giant cloud of dust and smoke. The two adults watched with horror as their investment left without them and as it became nothing but a dot in the sky the woman became angry.
"How DARE you not check your facts! Who is the person that claimed to be leader?" She snarled.
"It was a girl, blonde hair, very pretty. I never heard her name directly, but others called her Crystal." A doctor said from where he was entering notes on the computer.
The two parents stood in shock and the man with the expensive suit was made, angrily saying something in Russian before leaving.
They had been outsmarted, outthinked by the product of their own creation. The woman fainted into her husbands arms just as a beep from a near by computer confirmed that the colony ship had left Earth's orbit, picking up the modules carrying supplies and was off to its planet.
10 years later
"Ms. Wilson?"
Crystal Wilson looked up from her desk with a smile at her aide, a young 16 year old girl with brown hair. Everything was going great, sure, it was still a work in progress, but the main city and basic needs had been set up by robots on a beautiful world appropriately called a garden world. Everyone seemed to get along fine, the police arresting only 2 people in the pasts months since settling the planet. She had taken the last name of her now boyfriend, Mark Wilson, a man who had learned to become farmer and biologist on this new world.
"Is it time already?" I ask and the young girl nods.
"We have set up the satellite which will transmit back to Earth. The studio in room 10B is ready when you are."
"Thank you Danica." I nod and get up, fixing my business suit of wrinkles as my aide leaves. I take a breath, making sure the bun my hair was in was in place ad walked down to the studio.
There was only a camera, few computers and the people working them. I stand in front of the camera and the man working one the computer pushes and button and gives a thumbs up. These things broadcasted to everyone on Earth, onto every screen, this would forever be etched in the minds of 'parents' who think of their children as objects, and in the minds of children like the ones who had been guinea pigs for this colony expedition. Eventually, it would make its way to other colonies via data drop from Earth, used to keep tabs on far away investments.
"People of Earth and eventually other colonies. My name is Crystal Wilson." I began speaking clearly. "I was once a Perfection Child to people who thought I was nothing more than an investment which would get them something they wanted, a colony expedition. They took care of me, but never loved me, I was nothing, an object. I did what most of you either thought or wish you could do. I left. It is wrong to see children this way, to barter them for cars or homes. At one point in Earth's history, children were loved and cared for, selling them was illegal, and the world, while not perfect, still turned just the same." I look away from the camera.
"I will tell you it is wrong. Children of all ages, I know it will not be easy, but if you wish, and you can get your own colony ship, then come to my planet. We are not bound by earth's rules, we do not follow their laws. We will not sell you, degrade you, or punish you for being a living being with thoughts and feelings. IF you have a child you do not want, send to me, I will welcome them." I said as I looked back into the camera, my voice sweet and pleasant."
Then my features grow dark and I lean threateningly. "And for you adults. Take this word of warning. We will not respond to any hails Earth, any ship sent here to enforce any sort of your law will be repulsed. You hold now power over my world. I am sick of your morals and your laws, and do not think that the throne you sit on is safe." I stand up straight with a triumphant smile, knowing the computer people are projecting an image of the colony, the capital of this world, and all the beauty that surrounds it.
"The world of Freedom is its own! And may whatever gods you hold dear judge you harshly when you die. President Crystal Wilson, signing off." I say and the man made another gesture, indicating the camera was off and I sigh in relief.
I exit the room and my face blossoms into a bright smile as Mark Wilson hugs me tight. "The big speech aye?" He says.
"Yes." I rest my head on his chest. 'We're our own now. It won't always be perfect, but by all the stars in this galaxy we will make it work." I pull myself away and walk over to an observation area, looking out over the beautiful buildings still being erected near an amazing blue sea with white beaches. "I still haven't thought up a name for our city. Freedom is the colony, but the city needs a name."
Mark chuckled. "Plowing the fields suddenly seems easy."
I smile at the comment but as I look over the city, my city, my smile grows soft.
"Hope."
Mark looked a question at her and she made a motion.
"Welcome to the City of Hope."
by Respubliko de Libereco » Mon Jun 23, 2014 12:29 pm
Is There Hope?
This empty shell of a city is my only reality. Its overgrown streets and collapsed parkades are my hunting grounds. Its unlit subway tunnels are my palace. The haunting cry of the wind, echoing through the skeletons of once-bustling skyscrapers, is my orchestra. It has been days since I last ate. It has been months since I bathed.
It has been years since I saw another human being.
Today, I wander the streets, though it pains me to walk. Fatigued, I stumble past ivy-covered streetlights that once cast a warm glow onto the sidewalk. Now, they cast only shadows, which grow long with the setting of the sun. I limp past the gaping entrances to dilapidated buildings, filled, not doubt, with corpses. Normally, I would pay these sights no attention, but today something is different. Today, I am searching. For what? I hardly dare to think it, but in my heart I know: I am searching for my final resting place.
Ten years ago, it was different. The world was no less desolate then, of course; the “event”, as my father called it, happened much further in the past, before I was born. Ten years ago, the streets were still cracked, the pipes still dry, and the buildings still collapsing. But they were not empty, and that made all the difference. There were only a few of us, but together we made the city a home. We hunted, cooked, and worked together. We sang, danced, and laughed together. We were strong, optimistic, and perseverant; in short, we were survivors.
At least, we used to be survivors. But the constantly overcast skies, the scarcity and blandness of our food, and the constant presence of death started to erode my companions’ spirits, as surely as the elements eroded the looming remains of civilization. One by one, they gave up on life, no matter how much the rest of us begged them to hold on. One by one, I watched them die, and each time a little bit of hope died with them. Some of them were stronger than others, but in the end they all lost hope and resigned themselves to oblivion. All except me.
After my last companion died, I thought the first year would be the hardest. I was constantly plagued by grief, and haunted by vividly-remembered faces that I couldn’t run from, no matter how hard I tried. When, after years of trying to erase them, my memories finally began to fade, I found myself cursing my own foolishness, and wishing that I had held on to them for longer. Alas, it was too late.
I say that they all gave up except me, but that’s not quite true. I thought I was a survivor, but those years of solitude were harder than I could have imagined, and finally, yesterday, something changed. Now, I take one last walk through this city that used to be my home, and that will soon be my mausoleum. I know there is no one to bury me, but surrounded as I am by abandoned towers, black against the red sky of evening, it’s not hard to imagine that I am already looking up from the bottom of a grave.
Ahead of me, I see a corpse. I am not unused to such macabre sights - the city is littered with the dead, and I gave up on burying them all long ago. This one is different, though - it is standing. As I draw closer, it waves to me, just as a living person might. I am somewhat surprised, but only somewhat; my mind, as well as my body, is weak from exhaustion, and I have seen stranger things than moving corpses over the past few days.
I draw nearer still, and see that it is, in fact, a living person, a hooded old man so gaunt and pale that I was almost justified in my initial assumption. Any other day, this would have been amazing news, but today I am simply sad that another suffers as I do.
“Is there any hope?” It’s been so long since I last heard a human voice that I don’t understand the question the first time. He asks again, “Is there any hope?”. This time, I understand. It is a question that I am very familiar with.
“No,” I say, “there is no hope.” A week ago I would have said otherwise, but now I see the truth. “There is no hope, and there never was. Everyone dies. This has always been true, and it always will be.”
“Of course everyone dies. No one knows that better than I. I just never really expected it to happen to me.” The old man lowers his hood, and I see that my initial assumption was correct: he really is a corpse. In fact, he is Death himself. I don’t know how I know this, but I do. “My question,” he continues, “is about what happens after death - is there hope then?”
“How can you expect me, a human, to tell you?” I ask, bewildered. “You, that have been the scourge of humanity for all of history?”
“I am dying,” he responds, “and I hoped that you could teach me what it is like to be mortal. Humans have lived in my shadow for millennia - surely your race knows more about dying than I do, having never died.”
“How can you be dying?” I ask, confused.
Death sighs. It is a haunting, echoing sound, very similar to that of the wind through the ruins. “Soon, there will be no need for me. My job is to usher souls out of this world, and you are the last such soul. As you die, so shall I.”
This news surprises me. Of course, I have long suspected that I might be the last man on earth, but something inside me always rejected the idea. Now, my suspicions are, unfortunately, confirmed. I pause for a moment to consider this revelation. Death remains as silent as the grave. The only sound is the mournful cry of some corvid in the distance.
“Perhaps,” I say at length.
“Pardon?” It is Death’s turn to be confused.
“Perhaps there is hope after death. There’s no hope in life, that’s for sure. If I am the last man on earth, then there is no future for me here, and I suspect that there never was. But maybe there’s something waiting for me in death. And maybe, just maybe, there’s something waiting for you, too.”
Death doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing more to be said. He simply offers me his hand, and we go into the unknown as equals. The sun sets on the sight of humanity and mortality dying together, side by side, hand in hand.
by Volmachtia » Mon Jun 23, 2014 4:38 pm
by Wymyslensko » Wed Jun 25, 2014 12:32 pm
by Occupied Deutschland » Thu Jun 26, 2014 1:18 am
by Nazi Flower Power » Thu Jun 26, 2014 1:45 pm
Occupied Deutschland wrote:I believe I'll have to withdraw my tenative entry. My work has been slammed and I haven't found the spare while to come up with a good story. Good luck to ya'all who are writing though, and perhaps I'll see you in the next go-round!
by Nazi Flower Power » Fri Jun 27, 2014 9:13 pm
by Vedria » Sat Jun 28, 2014 2:02 am
Nazi Flower Power wrote:Only a couple of days left. Any last minute entries?
by Nazi Flower Power » Sat Jun 28, 2014 6:49 pm
by The Dogma States » Sat Jun 28, 2014 7:50 pm
Nazi Flower Power wrote:Only a couple of days left. Any last minute entries?
by Nerotysia » Sat Jun 28, 2014 8:03 pm
by Nazi Flower Power » Sat Jun 28, 2014 8:47 pm
Nerotysia wrote:This is interesting. Since there are only like 2 days left and I'm currently engaged in another writing project, do you mind if I post a story I wrote a little while ago? It has not been published or posted elsewhere.
by Vedria » Sat Jun 28, 2014 8:55 pm
by Nazi Flower Power » Sat Jun 28, 2014 8:59 pm
by Vedria » Sat Jun 28, 2014 9:04 pm
by Nazi Flower Power » Sat Jun 28, 2014 9:34 pm
by Nerotysia » Sun Jun 29, 2014 4:44 am
by The New World Oceania » Sun Jun 29, 2014 8:59 am
by Nazi Flower Power » Sun Jun 29, 2014 12:37 pm
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