catsMarch5 And the cats go marching on...
Posts: 201
(8/19/03 9:33 pm)
Silence
This is just some short story I thought up in French class. I know that some of you are ready to kill me since I'm behind in updating Against the Will. Oh well. Deal with it, I am working on it and finished a good chunk of chapter nine. I only need to get to like chapter eleven before I update.
Or maybe I'll get seven and eight out when I start on chapter ten. I don't really have any readers on Fictionpress.com so I'm not really worried about them. More readers over there would help but oh well, less stress for me.
Also oddly enough, even though this is a one-shot, I do have some odd ideas of extending it but that's kinda of pushing it for me.
In any case, here's the short story....
Silence
My conscience would be screaming at me, but I killed it, so it’s a pleasant silence. Oh well. I’m aware it’s “morally” wrong. But morals have also died. Everyone has seemed to accept that the world is screwed. That God is dead. After all we did kill him.
Well maybe Earth isn’t screwed yet. The public isn’t aware of the secret war. The war between corporations. The mere fact that actual bloody battles take place. In the simple guise as terrorist attacks, gang fights, so on, so forth. I mean, hell, they even pit their armies against each other in plain fields.
The secret war is a civilized one, they plan out where they will fight, pit their armies and the one with the most living wins. All this just to be the only. The one with all of the power. Of course the company I’m in is the only one smart enough to take advantage of this. Of this corporation war that no one knows about. We all should be proud of our leader, executive, the head. It was him that thought this up.
With technology advancing, doctors are now able to replace lost parts…………………… with mechanical ones. Ones that encourage the living to fuse with the nonliving. A perfect mix between bio and mecha. The new limb works perfectly.
Of course there’s a negative side. It was proven that a man with two bio-mecha legs will run twice, maybe three times as fast than a normal human. The arms were able to write faster, type faster. The limbs were more effective, more advanced. They don’t feel fatigue, and one punch or kick could easy break bones, rocks even bend metal. This perfect combination was not foreseen.
It wasn’t long before the public was willing to hack their parts for the bio-mecha. So the practice became outlawed, illegal. Years of research and perfection destroyed. They even killed some of the specialized ones.
This legalized massacre of the bio-mechas and doctors was dubbed “The Perfect Massacre”. A fitting name since the people with bio-mecha were so much better.
After order returned and chaos dissipated, the head, the executive had a thought, “What if we used bio-mechas in wars?” That thought was researched.
It appeared that not all the research was destroyed, that there was more than enough for doctors to simply pick up the task. We must again thank technology, since the murdered doctors had the insight to make back-up disks and hid them.
With that valuable research the thought grew into became an idea, which became a plan and now, it’s a full-run system.
The system is simple. “Runners” go out to the battlefield and wait until it’s over. Then maimed soldiers are dragged off, abducted. Only leaving behind dog tags which are enough evidence to show they are dead. Then the soldiers have their missing limbs are replaced with bio-mecha. Then are brainwashed, trained and fitted into one of three: silent, responsive and talkative. Put simply, the bio-mechas are the company’s secret product, the secret mercenaries with full loyalty to the company; their hive.
All of this codenamed-Firefly. The firefly does make it’s own electricity much like our own bio-mechas.
Then they are sold/rented much like weapons, under a contract, if anything of the contract is broken the firefly either leaves or kills the client. So far 30% of our clients have been killed by them.
One thing that I find ironic are the silent. They never talk, except in three instances, hence their name. They only talk to one, tell the client they are leaving; two, to tell the client they broke the contract and will be killed now; or three, when they are with the doctors. I am one of those doctors.
The thing is, all the silents have soft enchanting voices. That clients are in shock at the sound that it takes a few minutes to register what they said. Some of them even buy the same firefly over and over just to hear that haunting voice as they leave. It’s obvious that whoever thought of this has a twisted sense of humor.
“Excuse me,” A small voice said. I looked away from the computer screen, realizing that the soft glow was my only source of light.
A body was outlined at the doorframe with the light from the hall. Pushing my glasses up, I walked over flicking on the lights, showing various cabinets, chairs and examination table.
I recognized the person as number 117. 117 was a special case. He was washed ashore here. No one was prepared for it. Even though they should have. This place is on a freaking island.
After 117 came it was decided that they will take people not only in battlefield but also when they wash ashore or in any other circumstanced where the person can be assumed dead. It’s dangerous if someone recognizes one of our fireflies.
“Hey aren’t you two weeks early?” 117 looked down, staring at his drab clothes.
“He’s dead, I killed him.” He said, monotone, avoiding my eyes.
“Well……he broke the contract right?” I got up, walking closer to him.
“I don’t know, I…don’t know.” Then I noticed the bright red sleeve.
“You’re bleeding,” I nearly yelled, almost grabbing his arm.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine!” He said, moving his arm out of my reach. I roughly grabbed his fingers, shoving his sleeve up. A large, wide gash ran from the back of his hand all the way to his elbow. The red blood flowed down to my hand and dripped to the floor.
“I’m fine,” He repeated, trying to jerk his hand away. Droplets of blood flew, landing on the floor and my clothes.
“People commit suicide by cutting their own arms open. I’m surprised that you haven’t died from blood loss yet.” Still holding his hand, I could still feel the warm blood moving down my arm and drip off my own sleeve.
I half-dragged him to the sink. We watched silently as the blood ran down, swirling with the water. I reached up snatching a long sterile gauze pad. I ripped off the paper and handed it to him
“Press down on it. I need to find a long roll for you.” I said opening another cabinet. He didn’t respond, just pushing down watching the white gauze soak up the crimson.
“What happened?” The bleeding stopped and I noticed how open the slash was. It started wide only to thin out into a line at his elbow. It was easy to see the silvery parts meshed with the blood.
“He cut it open,” I started wrapping his hand with a white bandage.
“How?”
“He wanted to know why I was silent, why I wouldn’t respond.”
“The idiot, when you pick silent, you get silent.”
“So someone held out my arm as he stabbed my hand. Then the moved the knife down. I moved my arm out as he got to my elbow.” The wrapping was halfway done.
“How did you kill him?” I remember talking to another firefly. She was talkative. I asked her what she did. She told me that she ripped someone’s heart out, quite literally, then brought it back to the client as evidence. She was the woodsman that was loyal to the evil queen.
“I dislocated the man’s arm since he was still holding my arm. Then I broke the client’s neck. I almost ripped his head off.” Yes, fireflies have that kind of strength.
“Hmm…well it’s done,” I said attaching the ends of the wrap. “We’re going to have to fix your arm later.” I noticed a slight fear in his clear eyes.
“Don’t worry; the contract does state injuring you will result in death. It’s alright.” Actually the contract states ‘damaging our product will result in death’. They’re objects with that phrase. I don’t think of them as objects.
117 nodded. He started walking.
“Hey, when did we first meet?” That was a sudden question.
“We met three years ago. I was waking up in the surgery room and you said ‘Hello, my name is Dr. Maria Tenshi. I am your doctor.’” He paused “Everything was very white, you, your clothes, the walls, like-”
“Bleach was dumped on everything,”
“Except for your hair, the black really stood out……..why did you ask?”
“I was just wondering,” Dr. Maria Tenshi. I am a certified doctor, but Maria Tenshi is a lie. Everyone here has fake names, even the small obscure people. It’s a method of forgetting. Losing one and making one. Even though I’m aware of it, I’m having a harder and harder time remembering myself.
Tenshi is Japanese for angel, all the doctors’ last names are in some way or form mean angel. The entire irony of it all. We, the angels, create the fireflies that kill, cause mayhem and chaos.
117 turned around, walking off. The red sleeve stood out. He only nodded when I shouted make sure you check in. The silent personality took over.
I felt an odd pang. It wasn’t guilt. Guilt is an attack dog that bites you and forces you to drag its weight until you please it. This feeling was more considerate, more gentle, not dragging at all. It was sorrow. Then again, I always felt that whenever I see 117.
Probably because when it was decided he will be a firefly. I was the one that went into his room. I told him “Everything will be alright.” That nothing bad was going to happen. He completely believed me, his innocence, naivety all showing. Then……then he was erased and became 117. I looked down at my white lab coat, red dotted one side, the sleeve lined with the same blood.
Yes, my conscience would be screaming, but like I said, I killed it.
That is my one-shot. I've had my friends read it. They all liked it and one found it creepy. Also I got my english teacher to read it and she found it 'very creative' and even gave me extra credit.
Anyways, comments of any kind are very appricated. *Goes off to sleep, since Mom is telling her to do so*
I finally put some type of fiction up. That's Against the Will, in the general forum. Chapters 1-6 are available to read. So go there and read them.
Well, I certainly enjoyed reading that. I wish I had the ability to kill my conscience. Lying to my parents would be so much easier. Anywho, tis pretty good for a one-shot fic, and I hope you update AtW soon.
~Shiny Espoen, who suddenly has a craving for rootbeer
Silence
Anywho, tis pretty good for a one-shot fic, and I hope you update AtW soon.
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