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-Interlude-
Dark. A shade that sits and waits for me in the shadows of my mind. I can run and meet him if it was my choice, but I never do, because my darkness waits for the right time to pounce and swallow me whole. It's going to be a long walk.
I look next to me and notice none of the late-night hookers are around. They always go for the rich ones, like me. But they don't know who I am. I'm a monster that will turn them in to Raiden's Strike. They don't want that.
I dodge one of the woman's glances and run towards the nearest coffee shops. I stop by the counter and purchase a cappuccino, dark. Just the way my mind likes it.
It's three in the morning, and I still haven't murdered a soul. Maybe I'm just calm. As of now, at least. I look at the man who owns the coffee shop. A small, red star badge is on his chest. I found number one for today.
I hop from where I was sitting and tackle him, knocking all of his breath out. Maybe I already killed him. No, he's still breathing. For now, at least...
“Get off me, you freakish bastard!” He bellows. I don't like cursing. He shouldn't either, especially for the reason that I'm right in front of his eyes. I don't breathe a word to him. I just sit on top of his chest. I finally look down and take the badge off.
“I know you,” He mouths, dead silent. “You're-” I cut him off, using the badge as my words. The badges pin is long and pointy. I nice weapon. I stab his ugly body multiple times.
Showing posts with label my book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my book. Show all posts
NOTE: These stories are all tied together and will all be made into one book.
These stories will only be here for a limited time.
"NO SLUMBER IN SLUMBERLAND"
By Liam McCoy
Have you ever wondered what would happen if Alice in Wonderland ever met Little Nemo in Slumberland? Alice falls asleep in Wonderland and meets Little Nemo in Slumberland. It's simple. But more would happen. I know, because I am Nemo. Not the Little Nemo, just Nemo.
Nemo White.
As I'm writing this, I lean back in my chair, stretch and yawn. Typing makes me slow, and my typewriter runs out of ink easily. I take out another cartridge a place it inside quickly. It seems I have typed too much already.
There are rules in our world, but we go against them. Demons surpass us, yet we still observe ourselves as angels. We believe we can cure the dead; we think we are the true species, while we knew there was more out there. We damned ourselves using the methods of biological warfare. Global warming was no myth. We found that out soon enough. We damaged our resources, ran out of fossil fuel, and destroyed half the planet in six days. People said we were gods. The year was 2076.
My friends and I hung out at the beach all the time that we could. Of course, they were all contaminated. People looked at it as only two simple things: safety hazard and AIDs. We looked at it as our own personal freedom. We knew no one would track us into the beaches. We couldn't be harmed anyways; no one knew who we were. We were the aliens. The new kids.
Our whole world resorted to steam as a new power source. We had destroyed our own planet using the methods of nuclear and biological warfare. Our world went back in time to the victorian age, the era that took place right before the industrial age, forcing us to rebuild cities through the length of time it took us to get there. Electricity ran out when the engines were crushed. Batteries only lasted for so long. Money had no need. You could trade in a double-A battery for a fortune. But what would we need it for? To buy food? Everyone had already ransacked the stores. No way we could survive. Steam was our last option.
Everyone resorted to customization; the only type of way to get anything. You make it your own damn self. Boys were taught how to stitch and knit. We felt strange, having to dress in the strange way that is the victorian age. We still had hoodies and trench coats and such, but they were much harder to create. Everyone would much rather create the average clothing that was needed; sweaters, slacks, vest, jackets, and the average shirt. All the clothes were normally ripped and dirty because everyone was forced to live in slums.
At the beaches, we would take a seat and watch the sunrise. But there was no sun. It was us that scorched the skies. We had dropped the bombs in the sky, destroying any way to get sunlight, therefore, no solar power. No energy. No plants. We'd imagine the sun in our minds; though we had never seen it, we were told by our grandparents what it was. It was god; it was light; it was yellow and red; And just like everything else in the world that we loved: it was gone.
My friends and I weren't human. Technically, we were robots. Victorian robots running on steam. We were the Frankenstein's monster of the victorian age, today. Some parts were human, others were mechanical, running on water that we drank, that was heated up into steam that ran through our bodies, allowing us to propel ourselves and move. We were banned from the planet. We were all supposed to be sent into hell; the fireplace. Burn us, they said. They caused the trouble, they said. The man who made us, our father, was a steam-droid, or a steam-powered android. They burned his carcass on a stake. It was like racism. Murder and shutdown all the steam-droids. It was the holocaust. My pals and I were the only ones left. Or so we thought.
The world you know was a technological world; one where technology and science rules. No such things as gods, just robots. There were flying cars, boats that ran on electricity, and AI. Artificial Intelligence. Everything we had was destroyed. It was all ours, and we traded it away. For what? Violence, warfare, damnation. Total damnation? Yeah, that sounds about right.
There still are flying cars, but we call them speeders. They have an old victorian, metallic look, and they are shaped like a diamond, and the look and drive like a floating motorcycle. We had to change the rules, because of the loss of electricity. We power the speeders, again, by steam. No gasoline. They don't want to pollute the world anymore.
There are cops that are supposed to track the remaining steam-droids known as RIOT Cops. They have black trench-coats and gas masks. They have huge tanks in the back, for air support. Or so people think. They do the worst of things to any steam-droid supporter. But, what's ironic is that us steam-droids know something no human knows. The RIOT Cops are steam-droids. When a steam-droid looks at another, they can tell. Or at least we do. The idiotic RIOT Cops couldn't ever tell. Something in their programming. Maybe it was the water they used. RIOT Cops are created by tainted water. The crap from the beaches that we go to. I've seen good steam-droids die right in front of me by using tainted water from the beaches. We never knew about the water 'till I watched someone die by using it. How could those RIOT Cops stand it?
If you are reading this, please know, I am the last steam-droid in the world. Everyone's dead. Even my Alice. Welcome to Slumberland, but tonight, you won't sleep.
I should've left my Alice in Wonderland.
Let me take you back to the year 2090, while I was fourteen.
Chapter 1
Year 2090, Detonation Shores, Florida II, State of America III
Due to the fact that you are a person of the past, I must tell you, America was blown to bits. Three parts were left. State of America I, Northern states. State of America II, Southern States. State of America III, half of Florida. SOA III is where we lived; my friends and I. Mainly the last of the steam-droids. It was supposedly the last colony where steam-droids were legal, only they had to be slaves. I didn't care. My owner didn't want me to be accustomed to slavery. He said it was because his great grandpa was involved with something he called, “The Black Slave Trade.”
“Where were you born, Pa?” I remember asking, while we were both sitting on the “once-white” porch of his old three-story house. He gave me a wink and chuckle. He must have had some sort of serious nostalgia and decided to reminisce on the memories for several seconds.
“Why, son, I was born in ol' Philly.” He smiled, and you could see his shining white teeth. They glistened in the light of every thunder strike that lit up. I looked up and saw all the clouds, imagining the sun. I remember looking at the clock on his porch. Then I looked back up, and changed my imagination to stars. It was midnight. Exactly, but who the hell could tell the difference?
“Philly? What's that?”
Pa chuckled again, this time for about a few more seconds. He had a little bit of wheezing to the end of it... it made me think; what if he died on me? That would be one less seam-droid. And even worse; it would be the death of the longest-living steam-droid. “Philadelphia, son. The best place in the U.S. Of A.” His smile turned, very slowly. “You may be able to see it someday. You know, if the Elephant-Men don't gitcha.” He didn't laugh though. He knew it was serious business.
The Elephant-Men is what we called the RIOT Cops. They wore gas masks, with a long tube coming down the front that connects to the body tube that forces steam to flow through.
They found him, noticed he was low on taxes, and slaughtered him right in front of me. He was the first human that I saw dying. The liquid, blood, looked amazing, but saddening. Was it the steam that humans ran on? The red blood was appealing to me. It was shining, like red rubies in the sunlight... If only I ever saw the sunlight. In my mind, I could the scene, running in slow motion, over and over, like a broken movie disc. I didn't cry, I just watched; observing him fall to the floor, slowly.
The Elephant-Men (hardly men) took me to the chophouse, where my adventure really started.
Elephant-Men were required to take every steam-droid that was “deserted” from their owners to the chophouse, or the steam-house. They would strip the skin off the steam-droids and place it in their furnaces to burn, using the heat to create steam. Then, they would disable the steam-droids from their steam tank, and place it in the “Reserves” Room and the government of the European/State of American alliance would use the steam for machinery power and steam for RIOT Cops.
When I first got to the steam-house, they made me wait for 2 hours, because a lot of droids were getting to be disabled that day. I remember hearing two Elephant-Men having a conversation. Two, real stupid Elephant-Men.
“Dude, what's with all the 'roids?” One said. He glanced around, and noticed me looking at them. “Hey, you little bastard! Look in front of you! This is none of your business, you stupid 'roid!” I shifted back in place, looking in front of me, but still eavesdropping.
“Ugh, the stupid bastards are everywhere,” the other said. “Anyways, I think it's the European/State of American government that's doing it.” The Elephant-Man took off his gas-mask. “Oh, Christ, it's hot in there.” He lit up a cigarette, and started puffing. The first Elephant-Man looked at him, confused. The second one sighed, and left the cigarette in his mouth. “Ugh, the damn guys decided to go to every 'roid owner's door, telling the 'em that they didn't pay taxes.” The first one looked at him, quizzically.
“So...?”
“Jesus, man, are you that stupid?” He took the cigarette out. “They go to their house to kill the owner and take the 'roid.”
“Why?” The first was obviously a rookie.
“Because, they need steam,” the second said, placing the cigarette back into position.
The first started to speak, then stopped. The rookie just stared at the ground, silent, when finally he lifted his finger once more, “But-”
“Shutup! Jesus, you're getting on my nerves, you freak!” he stared down the rookie for several seconds and and heard a loud bell. “Dammit. Break's over,” he breathed, dropping the cigarette on the ground, creating a large pile of ash. He slipped his gas mask right back on and looked at the rookie. “Kid, you better get back to work or they'll chew you out,” he said, walking away, slowly towards his assigned domain.
The first Elephant-Man didn't move. He just stood there like a statue. Then he bent over, looked down through his shiny goggles of his gas-mask, and sighed.
The monsters took me to the boiler-room. It looked like an old broken down cafe; one which was still running. Apparently, the “boiler-room” is a place for Elephant-Men to listen to music and hang out.
And strip the droids from their skins.
I could see the droids, cruelly being tortured. What happened to our old Constitution? “Protects against cruel and unusual punishment,” my ass. I was watching artificial skin, flying off the crying steam-droids. When it was near my turn, probably the worst thing that could ever happen, happened.
One of the Elephant-Men brought in a crying seven-year-old.
“Caught this little bastard, hiding,” he breathed. He threw the kid on the floor.
“Strip him,” another Elephant-Man spoke, grabbing the wrist of the young boy. He pinched the young boy and began stripping skin. But this boy was different. He screamed and yelled and cried, but they wouldn't stop. He he tried to smack and punch the Elephant-Men off, but it was no use. All the kid got back was a slap and another strip was on the ground. Then, every steam-droid turned, staring. Even the Elephant-Men stopped stripping to check.
The Elephant-Man took his finger off the boy's wrist and looked. There was red, shiny blood. He jumped up away from the boy, screaming. Other Elephant-Men began getting closer, except mine. All the Elephant-Men were taking the clothes and mask off the Elephant-Man. The person was screaming in the torture; they were stripping him off his skin.
When they finished, they tossed his skin in the furnace.
“Take this human boy to the health clinic,” one said. He turned to all the staring steam-droids. “What are you bastards lookin' at?” He moved back to his steam-droid who was ridiculously scared. The Elephant-Man turned to another, whispering, “Go sound the alarm. I “hazard” time.”
“Please, sir, please don't kill me. I'm scared of death,” the little steam-droid gasped.
“Shutup!” the Elephant-Man yelled, smacking the boy to the floor.
“Hazard” was a protocol alarm that was too be sounded when a human was found during the stripping process. Basically, they lock all the rooms down with steam-droids stored and pour small clockwork and mechanical insects inside the rooms, that bit the veins of the steam-droids, infecting their steam with tainted water. Every RIOT Cop had to go to the “bug” room to check for any mistakes or bugs in the system. Anything different.
That's what it was.
Something different.
Chapter 2
My Elephant-Man was the rookie. The one I saw earlier. He never said anything. All he did was strip a tiny piece off the center of the palm of my hand, which stung, but I didn't say anything. I just stood there, watching. After he took off a few pieces, he paused, sighed, and that's when “human boy” thing occurred.
When I saw the rookie walk off, he kept his head down, muttering to himself. Another Elephant-Man walked up to him, having a cheerful voice.
“Damn,” he said. “You ever been to a “hazard?”
The rookie shook his head “no,” and continued walking. The other Elephant-Man shrugged and turned around. He waved a hand to us, and pressed the button. The one that shuts down the door.
The whole room turned a bright white. Everything was now white, instead of a rose red with an orange-brown tint. The whole room was silent. No one knew what was going on.
Everyone just looked up and cowered away from the light. Our eyes were adjusting to the brightness. We'd never seen it. We'd never seen a lightbulb ever. It was like an old wife's tale. A lightbulb. Silly as it seems to you, but it's true. Some younger kids hid behind the older steam-droids. I just sat down in the corner after about fifteen minutes. Nothing happened. I dug my head into my brown slacks. We waited for hours. By then, most of the droids were either asleep or dead by dehydration, (not enough water for steam.)
I checked my gauge that was on my inner right thigh. I had plenty of water left, so I decided to rest. I yawned and began to doze off.
I awoke outside a bright kingdom. It was sitting on clouds, and it looked like an amazing city. There were skyscrapers that reached the heavens. There were amazingly dressed citizens, welcoming me to their new world.
“Hello, sir,” one said. “Are you new?”
I looked up at the skies. “New to what?” I muttered.
The man chuckled. “Why to Slumberland, my friend!” He pointed to the skyscrapers. “Beautiful aren't they? This is how your world used to be.” He pointed up, at this bright ball of light. “That,” he grinned. “That, my friend , is the sun.”
“Wow...” I breathed. I was excited. Pa told me all about it. It was amazing. It is what it is; beautiful.
“But, my boy,” the man said. “That,” he pointed to the buildings. “That is what your world is right now.”
Immediately as he said that, all of the buildings fell to the ground, and only a few were left standing, but most of the standing ones were broken and destroyed. All the citizens were now wearing dark brown clothes. They were all dirty and dithered. I looked back at the man, and his face melted into some sort of old man's face with boils and a broken nose. His beautiful clothes turned into dark, dull clothing, all battered up. His legs disappeared, and all that was left were two stumps. He fell to the ground and grabbed my pants leg.
“Welcome to Slumberland, boy,” he chuckled. “But, tonight, you won't sleep.” I stepped back, breathing hard. Then all the citizens stepped closer to me, their ugly faces glittering in the lightning strikes. They were begging me for mercy. Some ran up to me and jumped on my shoulders. I had to throw myself backwards to get them off. I landed on one boy, killing him, and when I looked at his face... It was me. I looked into his eyes, bright blue, and I saw my reflection, glistening. It was an Elephant-Man, waving to me. The same one that shut the door. I looked at my hands, and they were clad in black leather. I looked at my fingers and there was a small stain of blood.
“Strip him,” an Elephant-Man yelled at me,and several Elephant-Men tackled me and some of the citizens. They began stripping our skins, and I was tossing and turning. “Get off!” I screamed. “Get off!”
I opened my eyes, and I was being carried on an Elephant-Man's shoulders. All of them were running, in a straight line, and all the steam-droids that survived the stay were also being carried. I looked up, and I saw that the rookie was carrying me, and he was right before the leader. Apparently, he really wanted to leave. I observed the area I was in and it was a terribly dark tunnel. The were all running as fast as they could, some Elephant-Man yelling at each other to “Pick up the pace, you pansies!”
Then I heard it. The loud skittering noise. These small buggy animals were running towards us. As my eyes readjusted to the darkness, I saw them real easy. They were small clockwork bugs, running on small amounts of steam, but lasting a long while. “What the hell?” I breathed.
“They're 'bugs.' Tiny creatures that run on steam,” a voice said, gasping. I looked up. It was the rookie that was talking to me, breathing very hard. “They're engineered to inject any living steam-droid like yourself with a poison known as 'TW.'”
I sighed, “Yeah, yeah. Tainted water, I know.”
He sighed. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
“What the hell, man?” I looked at his goggles. “You're an Elephant-Man. You can't be sorry.”
He didn't breathe a word.
“Well?”
He turned his head so he could slightly see my eye. “I don't think the 'TW' was fully injected into me.” He laughed. “I was just a little fu-” He turned his face towards me, fully. “...screw up.” He turned towards his front.
I went dead silent. I didn't breathe a word to him. I was just laying there on his shoulders. The only sound I heard was jogging and leather pants rubbing against each other with the rubber jackboots. I was just hoping to be able to sleep, but that wasn't happening.
“You wanna know what happened?” The rookie asked. I sighed, knowing he was just trying to make a conversation.
“What?” I said, very sarcastically, humoring him.
“Well, the reason you guys were stuck in there so long was because after the fifteen minute “hazard” protocol, one of the RIOT Cops decided to do the craziest thing ever.” he paused, to get some more air. “He took all the bugs out of the boiler-room engines and stored them in a large glass tube. He placed a long needle in the end of the tube, and he pressed down on the tube, which expanded the bugs, crushing them, and their TW flowing out,” he gasped. “He pressed the needle into his arm, having all the TW going through his veins. But, apparently, it was too much for him, he went crazy, basically turning him into Mr. Hyde. But after that instant, he fell to the ground, and shrank him back into normal size.
They locked him in a large lab, and performed short studies in his brain. The huge form now reacts whether he's angry or not. And when he woke up, he was angry. He crashed through the chains that he was locked on and attacked the scientists, which is why we're running right now.
Now, when we found out that he took them, we pressed the button to see if any came out. Unfortunately, a couple did. One bit you, and another bit another droid.” He sighed, and coughed. “You survived somehow, and the TW never affected you. It killed the other droid.”
I sighed. “It did affect me.”
He gasped. “What?”
“I had a nightmare.”
“That's probably going to happen for a while, kid. I'm sorry, but it's just the average symptom if you survive. Of course, that only applies to frequent TW users.” He looked at me and chuckled. “Well, are you?”
I frowned. “No.”
“What's you're name, kid?”
“Nemo,” I whispered.
“Cool. I'm Gabe.”
I looked into his dark goggles. “Gabe,” I muttered. “Cool.”
Chapter 4
We stopped after a few hours of running. Gabe hauled me off his back and laid down on the side of the sewer walls. I just sat, waiting for someone to speak. I was the only droid that was awake, so no one did anything. One Elephant-Man told all the other Cops that they were having a “meeting.” Gabe got up from next to me and went towards their group. I tried my best to hear them.
All the Cops took off their masks off and lit up a cigarette. They offered Gabe one, but he looked at it, confused.
“You smoke it,” one Elephant-Man chuckled to him.
“I know that, you moron.” Gabe waved his hands. “No thanks. I'm not the smoking type.”
“Suite yourself.” The Elephant-Man frowned and walked away slowly.
One of the RIOT Cops started the conversation. He looked around to make sure no one was awake, other then the cops, and when his eyes reached mine, I quickly shut them.
“Okay, I'm just wondering... Are we gonna kill these 'roids or what?”
[Next Short Story is an Interlude. It is not written by the same person.]
These stories will only be here for a limited time.
"NO SLUMBER IN SLUMBERLAND"
By Liam McCoy
Have you ever wondered what would happen if Alice in Wonderland ever met Little Nemo in Slumberland? Alice falls asleep in Wonderland and meets Little Nemo in Slumberland. It's simple. But more would happen. I know, because I am Nemo. Not the Little Nemo, just Nemo.
Nemo White.
As I'm writing this, I lean back in my chair, stretch and yawn. Typing makes me slow, and my typewriter runs out of ink easily. I take out another cartridge a place it inside quickly. It seems I have typed too much already.
There are rules in our world, but we go against them. Demons surpass us, yet we still observe ourselves as angels. We believe we can cure the dead; we think we are the true species, while we knew there was more out there. We damned ourselves using the methods of biological warfare. Global warming was no myth. We found that out soon enough. We damaged our resources, ran out of fossil fuel, and destroyed half the planet in six days. People said we were gods. The year was 2076.
My friends and I hung out at the beach all the time that we could. Of course, they were all contaminated. People looked at it as only two simple things: safety hazard and AIDs. We looked at it as our own personal freedom. We knew no one would track us into the beaches. We couldn't be harmed anyways; no one knew who we were. We were the aliens. The new kids.
Our whole world resorted to steam as a new power source. We had destroyed our own planet using the methods of nuclear and biological warfare. Our world went back in time to the victorian age, the era that took place right before the industrial age, forcing us to rebuild cities through the length of time it took us to get there. Electricity ran out when the engines were crushed. Batteries only lasted for so long. Money had no need. You could trade in a double-A battery for a fortune. But what would we need it for? To buy food? Everyone had already ransacked the stores. No way we could survive. Steam was our last option.
Everyone resorted to customization; the only type of way to get anything. You make it your own damn self. Boys were taught how to stitch and knit. We felt strange, having to dress in the strange way that is the victorian age. We still had hoodies and trench coats and such, but they were much harder to create. Everyone would much rather create the average clothing that was needed; sweaters, slacks, vest, jackets, and the average shirt. All the clothes were normally ripped and dirty because everyone was forced to live in slums.
At the beaches, we would take a seat and watch the sunrise. But there was no sun. It was us that scorched the skies. We had dropped the bombs in the sky, destroying any way to get sunlight, therefore, no solar power. No energy. No plants. We'd imagine the sun in our minds; though we had never seen it, we were told by our grandparents what it was. It was god; it was light; it was yellow and red; And just like everything else in the world that we loved: it was gone.
My friends and I weren't human. Technically, we were robots. Victorian robots running on steam. We were the Frankenstein's monster of the victorian age, today. Some parts were human, others were mechanical, running on water that we drank, that was heated up into steam that ran through our bodies, allowing us to propel ourselves and move. We were banned from the planet. We were all supposed to be sent into hell; the fireplace. Burn us, they said. They caused the trouble, they said. The man who made us, our father, was a steam-droid, or a steam-powered android. They burned his carcass on a stake. It was like racism. Murder and shutdown all the steam-droids. It was the holocaust. My pals and I were the only ones left. Or so we thought.
The world you know was a technological world; one where technology and science rules. No such things as gods, just robots. There were flying cars, boats that ran on electricity, and AI. Artificial Intelligence. Everything we had was destroyed. It was all ours, and we traded it away. For what? Violence, warfare, damnation. Total damnation? Yeah, that sounds about right.
There still are flying cars, but we call them speeders. They have an old victorian, metallic look, and they are shaped like a diamond, and the look and drive like a floating motorcycle. We had to change the rules, because of the loss of electricity. We power the speeders, again, by steam. No gasoline. They don't want to pollute the world anymore.
There are cops that are supposed to track the remaining steam-droids known as RIOT Cops. They have black trench-coats and gas masks. They have huge tanks in the back, for air support. Or so people think. They do the worst of things to any steam-droid supporter. But, what's ironic is that us steam-droids know something no human knows. The RIOT Cops are steam-droids. When a steam-droid looks at another, they can tell. Or at least we do. The idiotic RIOT Cops couldn't ever tell. Something in their programming. Maybe it was the water they used. RIOT Cops are created by tainted water. The crap from the beaches that we go to. I've seen good steam-droids die right in front of me by using tainted water from the beaches. We never knew about the water 'till I watched someone die by using it. How could those RIOT Cops stand it?
If you are reading this, please know, I am the last steam-droid in the world. Everyone's dead. Even my Alice. Welcome to Slumberland, but tonight, you won't sleep.
I should've left my Alice in Wonderland.
Let me take you back to the year 2090, while I was fourteen.
Chapter 1
Year 2090, Detonation Shores, Florida II, State of America III
Due to the fact that you are a person of the past, I must tell you, America was blown to bits. Three parts were left. State of America I, Northern states. State of America II, Southern States. State of America III, half of Florida. SOA III is where we lived; my friends and I. Mainly the last of the steam-droids. It was supposedly the last colony where steam-droids were legal, only they had to be slaves. I didn't care. My owner didn't want me to be accustomed to slavery. He said it was because his great grandpa was involved with something he called, “The Black Slave Trade.”
“Where were you born, Pa?” I remember asking, while we were both sitting on the “once-white” porch of his old three-story house. He gave me a wink and chuckle. He must have had some sort of serious nostalgia and decided to reminisce on the memories for several seconds.
“Why, son, I was born in ol' Philly.” He smiled, and you could see his shining white teeth. They glistened in the light of every thunder strike that lit up. I looked up and saw all the clouds, imagining the sun. I remember looking at the clock on his porch. Then I looked back up, and changed my imagination to stars. It was midnight. Exactly, but who the hell could tell the difference?
“Philly? What's that?”
Pa chuckled again, this time for about a few more seconds. He had a little bit of wheezing to the end of it... it made me think; what if he died on me? That would be one less seam-droid. And even worse; it would be the death of the longest-living steam-droid. “Philadelphia, son. The best place in the U.S. Of A.” His smile turned, very slowly. “You may be able to see it someday. You know, if the Elephant-Men don't gitcha.” He didn't laugh though. He knew it was serious business.
The Elephant-Men is what we called the RIOT Cops. They wore gas masks, with a long tube coming down the front that connects to the body tube that forces steam to flow through.
They found him, noticed he was low on taxes, and slaughtered him right in front of me. He was the first human that I saw dying. The liquid, blood, looked amazing, but saddening. Was it the steam that humans ran on? The red blood was appealing to me. It was shining, like red rubies in the sunlight... If only I ever saw the sunlight. In my mind, I could the scene, running in slow motion, over and over, like a broken movie disc. I didn't cry, I just watched; observing him fall to the floor, slowly.
The Elephant-Men (hardly men) took me to the chophouse, where my adventure really started.
Elephant-Men were required to take every steam-droid that was “deserted” from their owners to the chophouse, or the steam-house. They would strip the skin off the steam-droids and place it in their furnaces to burn, using the heat to create steam. Then, they would disable the steam-droids from their steam tank, and place it in the “Reserves” Room and the government of the European/State of American alliance would use the steam for machinery power and steam for RIOT Cops.
When I first got to the steam-house, they made me wait for 2 hours, because a lot of droids were getting to be disabled that day. I remember hearing two Elephant-Men having a conversation. Two, real stupid Elephant-Men.
“Dude, what's with all the 'roids?” One said. He glanced around, and noticed me looking at them. “Hey, you little bastard! Look in front of you! This is none of your business, you stupid 'roid!” I shifted back in place, looking in front of me, but still eavesdropping.
“Ugh, the stupid bastards are everywhere,” the other said. “Anyways, I think it's the European/State of American government that's doing it.” The Elephant-Man took off his gas-mask. “Oh, Christ, it's hot in there.” He lit up a cigarette, and started puffing. The first Elephant-Man looked at him, confused. The second one sighed, and left the cigarette in his mouth. “Ugh, the damn guys decided to go to every 'roid owner's door, telling the 'em that they didn't pay taxes.” The first one looked at him, quizzically.
“So...?”
“Jesus, man, are you that stupid?” He took the cigarette out. “They go to their house to kill the owner and take the 'roid.”
“Why?” The first was obviously a rookie.
“Because, they need steam,” the second said, placing the cigarette back into position.
The first started to speak, then stopped. The rookie just stared at the ground, silent, when finally he lifted his finger once more, “But-”
“Shutup! Jesus, you're getting on my nerves, you freak!” he stared down the rookie for several seconds and and heard a loud bell. “Dammit. Break's over,” he breathed, dropping the cigarette on the ground, creating a large pile of ash. He slipped his gas mask right back on and looked at the rookie. “Kid, you better get back to work or they'll chew you out,” he said, walking away, slowly towards his assigned domain.
The first Elephant-Man didn't move. He just stood there like a statue. Then he bent over, looked down through his shiny goggles of his gas-mask, and sighed.
The monsters took me to the boiler-room. It looked like an old broken down cafe; one which was still running. Apparently, the “boiler-room” is a place for Elephant-Men to listen to music and hang out.
And strip the droids from their skins.
I could see the droids, cruelly being tortured. What happened to our old Constitution? “Protects against cruel and unusual punishment,” my ass. I was watching artificial skin, flying off the crying steam-droids. When it was near my turn, probably the worst thing that could ever happen, happened.
One of the Elephant-Men brought in a crying seven-year-old.
“Caught this little bastard, hiding,” he breathed. He threw the kid on the floor.
“Strip him,” another Elephant-Man spoke, grabbing the wrist of the young boy. He pinched the young boy and began stripping skin. But this boy was different. He screamed and yelled and cried, but they wouldn't stop. He he tried to smack and punch the Elephant-Men off, but it was no use. All the kid got back was a slap and another strip was on the ground. Then, every steam-droid turned, staring. Even the Elephant-Men stopped stripping to check.
The Elephant-Man took his finger off the boy's wrist and looked. There was red, shiny blood. He jumped up away from the boy, screaming. Other Elephant-Men began getting closer, except mine. All the Elephant-Men were taking the clothes and mask off the Elephant-Man. The person was screaming in the torture; they were stripping him off his skin.
When they finished, they tossed his skin in the furnace.
“Take this human boy to the health clinic,” one said. He turned to all the staring steam-droids. “What are you bastards lookin' at?” He moved back to his steam-droid who was ridiculously scared. The Elephant-Man turned to another, whispering, “Go sound the alarm. I “hazard” time.”
“Please, sir, please don't kill me. I'm scared of death,” the little steam-droid gasped.
“Shutup!” the Elephant-Man yelled, smacking the boy to the floor.
“Hazard” was a protocol alarm that was too be sounded when a human was found during the stripping process. Basically, they lock all the rooms down with steam-droids stored and pour small clockwork and mechanical insects inside the rooms, that bit the veins of the steam-droids, infecting their steam with tainted water. Every RIOT Cop had to go to the “bug” room to check for any mistakes or bugs in the system. Anything different.
That's what it was.
Something different.
Chapter 2
My Elephant-Man was the rookie. The one I saw earlier. He never said anything. All he did was strip a tiny piece off the center of the palm of my hand, which stung, but I didn't say anything. I just stood there, watching. After he took off a few pieces, he paused, sighed, and that's when “human boy” thing occurred.
When I saw the rookie walk off, he kept his head down, muttering to himself. Another Elephant-Man walked up to him, having a cheerful voice.
“Damn,” he said. “You ever been to a “hazard?”
The rookie shook his head “no,” and continued walking. The other Elephant-Man shrugged and turned around. He waved a hand to us, and pressed the button. The one that shuts down the door.
The whole room turned a bright white. Everything was now white, instead of a rose red with an orange-brown tint. The whole room was silent. No one knew what was going on.
Everyone just looked up and cowered away from the light. Our eyes were adjusting to the brightness. We'd never seen it. We'd never seen a lightbulb ever. It was like an old wife's tale. A lightbulb. Silly as it seems to you, but it's true. Some younger kids hid behind the older steam-droids. I just sat down in the corner after about fifteen minutes. Nothing happened. I dug my head into my brown slacks. We waited for hours. By then, most of the droids were either asleep or dead by dehydration, (not enough water for steam.)
I checked my gauge that was on my inner right thigh. I had plenty of water left, so I decided to rest. I yawned and began to doze off.
I awoke outside a bright kingdom. It was sitting on clouds, and it looked like an amazing city. There were skyscrapers that reached the heavens. There were amazingly dressed citizens, welcoming me to their new world.
“Hello, sir,” one said. “Are you new?”
I looked up at the skies. “New to what?” I muttered.
The man chuckled. “Why to Slumberland, my friend!” He pointed to the skyscrapers. “Beautiful aren't they? This is how your world used to be.” He pointed up, at this bright ball of light. “That,” he grinned. “That, my friend , is the sun.”
“Wow...” I breathed. I was excited. Pa told me all about it. It was amazing. It is what it is; beautiful.
“But, my boy,” the man said. “That,” he pointed to the buildings. “That is what your world is right now.”
Immediately as he said that, all of the buildings fell to the ground, and only a few were left standing, but most of the standing ones were broken and destroyed. All the citizens were now wearing dark brown clothes. They were all dirty and dithered. I looked back at the man, and his face melted into some sort of old man's face with boils and a broken nose. His beautiful clothes turned into dark, dull clothing, all battered up. His legs disappeared, and all that was left were two stumps. He fell to the ground and grabbed my pants leg.
“Welcome to Slumberland, boy,” he chuckled. “But, tonight, you won't sleep.” I stepped back, breathing hard. Then all the citizens stepped closer to me, their ugly faces glittering in the lightning strikes. They were begging me for mercy. Some ran up to me and jumped on my shoulders. I had to throw myself backwards to get them off. I landed on one boy, killing him, and when I looked at his face... It was me. I looked into his eyes, bright blue, and I saw my reflection, glistening. It was an Elephant-Man, waving to me. The same one that shut the door. I looked at my hands, and they were clad in black leather. I looked at my fingers and there was a small stain of blood.
“Strip him,” an Elephant-Man yelled at me,and several Elephant-Men tackled me and some of the citizens. They began stripping our skins, and I was tossing and turning. “Get off!” I screamed. “Get off!”
I opened my eyes, and I was being carried on an Elephant-Man's shoulders. All of them were running, in a straight line, and all the steam-droids that survived the stay were also being carried. I looked up, and I saw that the rookie was carrying me, and he was right before the leader. Apparently, he really wanted to leave. I observed the area I was in and it was a terribly dark tunnel. The were all running as fast as they could, some Elephant-Man yelling at each other to “Pick up the pace, you pansies!”
Then I heard it. The loud skittering noise. These small buggy animals were running towards us. As my eyes readjusted to the darkness, I saw them real easy. They were small clockwork bugs, running on small amounts of steam, but lasting a long while. “What the hell?” I breathed.
“They're 'bugs.' Tiny creatures that run on steam,” a voice said, gasping. I looked up. It was the rookie that was talking to me, breathing very hard. “They're engineered to inject any living steam-droid like yourself with a poison known as 'TW.'”
I sighed, “Yeah, yeah. Tainted water, I know.”
He sighed. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
“What the hell, man?” I looked at his goggles. “You're an Elephant-Man. You can't be sorry.”
He didn't breathe a word.
“Well?”
He turned his head so he could slightly see my eye. “I don't think the 'TW' was fully injected into me.” He laughed. “I was just a little fu-” He turned his face towards me, fully. “...screw up.” He turned towards his front.
I went dead silent. I didn't breathe a word to him. I was just laying there on his shoulders. The only sound I heard was jogging and leather pants rubbing against each other with the rubber jackboots. I was just hoping to be able to sleep, but that wasn't happening.
“You wanna know what happened?” The rookie asked. I sighed, knowing he was just trying to make a conversation.
“What?” I said, very sarcastically, humoring him.
“Well, the reason you guys were stuck in there so long was because after the fifteen minute “hazard” protocol, one of the RIOT Cops decided to do the craziest thing ever.” he paused, to get some more air. “He took all the bugs out of the boiler-room engines and stored them in a large glass tube. He placed a long needle in the end of the tube, and he pressed down on the tube, which expanded the bugs, crushing them, and their TW flowing out,” he gasped. “He pressed the needle into his arm, having all the TW going through his veins. But, apparently, it was too much for him, he went crazy, basically turning him into Mr. Hyde. But after that instant, he fell to the ground, and shrank him back into normal size.
They locked him in a large lab, and performed short studies in his brain. The huge form now reacts whether he's angry or not. And when he woke up, he was angry. He crashed through the chains that he was locked on and attacked the scientists, which is why we're running right now.
Now, when we found out that he took them, we pressed the button to see if any came out. Unfortunately, a couple did. One bit you, and another bit another droid.” He sighed, and coughed. “You survived somehow, and the TW never affected you. It killed the other droid.”
I sighed. “It did affect me.”
He gasped. “What?”
“I had a nightmare.”
“That's probably going to happen for a while, kid. I'm sorry, but it's just the average symptom if you survive. Of course, that only applies to frequent TW users.” He looked at me and chuckled. “Well, are you?”
I frowned. “No.”
“What's you're name, kid?”
“Nemo,” I whispered.
“Cool. I'm Gabe.”
I looked into his dark goggles. “Gabe,” I muttered. “Cool.”
Chapter 4
We stopped after a few hours of running. Gabe hauled me off his back and laid down on the side of the sewer walls. I just sat, waiting for someone to speak. I was the only droid that was awake, so no one did anything. One Elephant-Man told all the other Cops that they were having a “meeting.” Gabe got up from next to me and went towards their group. I tried my best to hear them.
All the Cops took off their masks off and lit up a cigarette. They offered Gabe one, but he looked at it, confused.
“You smoke it,” one Elephant-Man chuckled to him.
“I know that, you moron.” Gabe waved his hands. “No thanks. I'm not the smoking type.”
“Suite yourself.” The Elephant-Man frowned and walked away slowly.
One of the RIOT Cops started the conversation. He looked around to make sure no one was awake, other then the cops, and when his eyes reached mine, I quickly shut them.
“Okay, I'm just wondering... Are we gonna kill these 'roids or what?”
[Next Short Story is an Interlude. It is not written by the same person.]
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