by Tobias Wade
The twenty-first was why they needed restraints, as his body writhed and spasmed grotesquely.
The twenty-second thing I noticed was that, just under the clamor of the machinery, Smickey was screaming. Agonized screams. Painful screams.
The twenty-third thing I noticed hurt the most; my name was on his dying lips.
The twenty-fourth thing I noticed was that after Smickey died, and perhaps a bit before, the headset extracted a bright blue liquid from him.
The twenty-fifth thing I noticed was that they, even Meisberger who appeared to observe the process (again, seemingly out of nowhere), referred to this liquid as “Serum X”.
The final thing I noticed was how much fear and adrenaline can drive a person. I ran faster even than when the killing occurred, escaping the underground with no other rational thoughts in my mind other than, “I need to get out of here.”
Following that unfortunate and harrowing incident, I called my team to my house which was thankfully bereft of adults, and told them everything I’d witnessed the previous night. I ended off my horrified recollection with the command for us to leave immediately. My own second-in-command defied me, dismissing my words as bullshit. I told him to tell me where the hell Smickey was, in that case, which got no reply. “You’ve let the power get to your head Olivia- wanting to undermine the adults so you can control everything,” he muttered, gesturing for the others to leave.
“We don’t know what the hell is out there,” he added on his way out. “Anything could be out to get us.” Clearly the conditioning of the adults had rooted itself deeply into each and every heart. There was no option of escape. The Outside World would sooner eat us alive. I cried in silence, realizing I was just as terrified of whatever lay out there, beyond the boundaries of the desert, as they were.
The day after, we were called into the town hall by Meisberger. I tried to keep my eyes on him the entire time, despite my loathing for him, but every now and then I unwillingly glanced toward the loose panel, which I’m certain Meisberger picked up on.
The subject of the conversation was that we were being relieved of our duties. This sparked a few protests, but they were quickly silenced by a well-placed glare on Meisberger’s part. He further elaborated that the job would be done more efficiently by a Moirai representative. He gestured to a Blue Shirt who emerged from the shadows, bearing that ever hateful symbol on her uniform. “This woman, Olivia, will be taking over for you kids so you can help your friends in town,” he told us in a saccharine tone.
After that, Olivia would exit town with no form of weapon on her, yet our town shook from the explosions she was no doubt the cause of. We heard them several times a day, and I shivered on instinct each time, like when I was underground, sensing nothing pleasant.
The task the children were set about to do was deconstructing homes and piling the wood outside of town. It was disheartening to harvest the wood from a house a child had disappeared from; it was erasing the last possible evidence of their existence, which felt very immoral. It could also be observed that the outskirts of town were the first to go, the inhabitants either sacrificed (unknown to the other children), or “taking refuge in the town hall”, which the adults whose children had vanished took to saying those days. My home was close to the center, meaning I had a decent amount of time to convince a few of us to leave before facing death, yet I was finding myself freezing up at the very idea of abandoning everything I’d ever known, even as it descended to ruin.
The remaining youth grew more and more agitated. At first, this could’ve been attributed to the stress of the disappearances and fewer and fewer of us enduring a workload that only increased. Soon, a high pressure atmosphere, almost like a bird of prey, swooped and eventually plunged into our town. I expected nothing less than calamity, but stripped of reputation and rank, I was no longer a credible source to go by when it came to getting the hell out of there before disaster arrived.
Meisberger and retinue went out to our growing wood pile and started rearranging the pieces until it resembled a lengthy structure bordered by boards leant up against the sides. I heard it referred to as “the Great Pyre”. During the next several sleepless nights, I observed dark silhouettes dragging lumpy figures in the direction of the structure. Bodies.
I dared to get a closer look once, and the bodies, now festering in the desert heat, appeared to have been laid on carefully. Every limb and extremity was neatly in place, save for one flabby arm, sticking out from a gap between two large wooden boards. On the end of the arm were metal bands that made a familiar racket when stirred by the wind. I jumped up once, to look at the rest of the body, and saw all I needed to see. Red curls, framing a blank expression.
“Why aren’t you working, young lady?” a deep voice uttered from behind me. I spun around to see Meisberger, looking displeased. My mouth went dry, and I backed off, sprinting in the direction of the town. It occurred to me how compromised my safety was. Meisberger could’ve written off my pointed looks at the town hall’s loose board, but he had witnessed my examination of the corpses. He knew just as well as I did that these were the unlucky souls who had the misfortune of passing through here. I would need to be silenced for what I knew.
Rather than returning to work, I stole food and wood and barricaded myself in my own home, ignoring the screams and knocks- or insistent poundings- at the door.
I believe I was in there for about a week (perhaps they were waiting for me to just give up and leave..?) when I heard the excited murmurs of the adults exiting town, headed toward the Great Pyre. I heard no children’s voices.
From a gap in the window, I saw the sky light up a brilliant blue. A few seconds later, the ground heaved, indicating something had made impact. I worried for my well-being, but curiosity drove me from my haven. I needed to know the purpose for this bloodshed, and that meant encountering the “miracle” known as the Second Landing.
An unstable monolith of charred remains reached over the horizon as I neared the site. The sky was still an unsettling shade of blue in some places, leaving only darkened contours to be seen. These shapes, surrounding a newly-formed crater, oohed and ahhed as a figure surfaced from the crater, holding a glowing blue object. They applauded.
Figuring it best to return to my position, my “base”, I began to retreat when I was stopped by a Blue Shirt- my replacement Olivia. With surprising and petrifying strength, she took me by the arm into the belly of the beast. As much as I struggled and remonstrated, she was an adult, and certainly no average adult. Her reaction to my pleas was nonexistent, unsympathetic. My body stiffened as I felt her ungodly presence invade and manipulate everything. Utterly. Petrified. As we closed in on the last citizens of my town, I clammed up, certain my life was to end soon. The crowds parted to let us through. There was silence before a cheer rose up. My capture was celebrated.
“Well, the last of the children is finally ready to face her fate,” Meisberger sneered.
In all honesty, I was ready to throw in the towel. Outnumbered and overpowered, I figured there was nothing left to do but meet the same excruciating end as Smickey. However, my curiosity still burned: I needed answers.
“What the hell was all of this for!?”
“Hmm?”
“The killings of the Outsiders, the pyre, that damned machine… what was it all for? What do you gain from this, Meisberger?”
“This whole operation of yours in the desert began with the first landing in 1991,” he started, matter-of-factly. “The first half of this very strange meteor came with odd inscriptions, much like the ones you see on this one. In the end, though information was gleaned from the first half, it wasn’t done so conventionally, and so we only ever managed to translate the conclusion. Perhaps the powers that be won’t let us translate the rest at the moment. Who knows? But this conclusion mentioned a requirement for blood. We interpreted this as preparing sacrifices to attract the landing of the other half, hence the killings.”
“A few years back, I lost something very dear to me- a deity of sorts. Though it has been recovered since, it is very weak now, and even the Quota will not be enough to heal it. The Moirai Initiative agreed to allow my saddened congregation and myself to use the inscriptions of these objects in order to find a way to revitalize our deity and return it to full strength. Perhaps it’s also worth mentioning that your “parents” aren’t your parents at all--yours were most likely killed long ago for being uncooperative. These parental units are Moirai workers who needed to both monitor you and protect the second landing site. They killed two birds with one stone by making you, the children, ward off any potential obstructions until the time was right.”
“What time was that?” I tried not to let the news of my parents get to me, but it must have shown, since Meisberger shot me a visage of false sympathy.
“Unitl the Extractor was finally completed. I believe you’ve already seen it in action.” So he’d known the entire time.
“It extracts ‘Serum X’, right?”
“Clever girl. Serum X would be your psychokinetic potential. It’s wasted on children like you, who haven’t even figured out how to utilize it. Moirai intends on using this cerebral matter to create its own strain of individuals with psychokinetic ability. You’ve already seen our example.”
“...Olivia.”
“Precisely. I get my deity back in return for a simple delivery job. All I need is your Serum to fulfill the contract. You should feel honored for your massive contributions.”
“You say I should, but I don’t. I don’t want to die.”
“A natural feeling. It is only human to desire self-preservation. However, greed is a sin. You are a necessary oblation.”
As Olivia was given the signal to take me to the Extractor, crippling fear overcame me. I began struggling again, futile as it was. Her influence ran like a network of threads within my limbs and nerves. The more I failed to spare my life, the more something primal within me throbbed and hummed and squirmed, frustrated as I was. It built up, and was driven to the point of overflow when I felt Olivia’s nails digging into my arm, drawing blood. Something surged, and I screamed (mouth unmoving), Let go of me! I don’t want to die! Olivia’s grip, both physical and mental, loosened for two seconds, which was all I needed to separate myself from her. She gritted her teeth, both shocked and pissed at me. The adults rushed to converge on me, and I gave another order:
Stay the hell away from me!
Their movements halted, save for Olivia, who put up formidable resistance. “Capture her!” Meisberger shouted in trepidation, but none of the “parents” or Moirai reps made a move to reclaim me- they couldn’t. It was like being surrounded by breathing statues. Only Olivia, enraged by the entrapment of her peers and my flight from her power, lunged at me, screeching.
“Undo what you did to them!” she shrieked. I dodged her combattantly inexperienced form, and used my lighter weight as an advantage to avoid recapture.
An off-looking grin formed on her face, and her eyes locked with mine with a staggering amount of intensity. I felt an uncomfortable pressure in my head, like my blood vessels were about to… explode. Realizing what she intended to do, I “told” her, Cut that shit out! The pressure only lessened a bit. Her abilities, only barely susceptible to mine, meant this was a literal life-or-death situation.
I felt her powers trying to subdue me, rolling over me in suffocating wave after wave. After a few seconds of concentration, I manifested a feasible defense against this, enough for the pressure to subside. Though nothing visible occurred, the wavelengths of her and my powers clashed horribly. It was disorienting, and it was difficult for me to switch to the offensive, the sheer force and determination supporting her being exhausting to match.
One key factor about our powers set her and I apart. Hers were fabricated and synthetic. Made to be powerful, sure, but something she had to get accustomed to in a body that never previously possessed it. Mine were raw, untempered, and perhaps a bit unstable, but they were entirely my own. They’d been mine since birth. Using this inkling of resolve, I pressed harder, harder, reaching and reaching for the sake of my future, so that I could live, and after a few more moments of wordless dispute, Olivia crumpled to the ground.
At first I panicked, unsure what to think or do, then I realized I had an opportunity to escape, which I had to take regardless of whether I wanted to or not. Despite my fatigue, I set off into the desert, spurred by the recuperating enemy population.
None of you follow me! I cried, before sprinting into the unknown, driven by fear and fear alone. I didn’t turn to look back at the reviving organization, to ensure they’d heeded my instruction. I kept running, past the illegible and rusty, misshapen sign indicating no-man’s land, farther and farther without regard for my burning legs or lungs, until I found myself among concrete and glass and strangers. I was in the Outside.
Surrounded by an unfamiliar environment with customs completely unorthodox to me, being ‘uncomfortable’ was a massive understatement for my feelings about my new position. Obtaining a home meant putting my life in the hands of the of the Outsiders, but there wasn’t much else I could do, return not being an option.
I observed many distressing things in the city, not reassuring me in the least. An old woman being carted out of a grungy apartment on a stretcher; a madman dropping an innocent woman off a skyscraper; a person bearing that dreadful insignia pushing someone into the path of a bus, among other things.
I created a hypothesis; if Moirai wanted to create psychokinetic individuals, these persons would have to serve a purpose. Perhaps Moirai wanted world conquest. They were developing an army to do so, and wouldn’t it be much easier to consolidate their hold on the world if their targets were already tearing each other to pieces? I had no explanation nor source to back up this idea of them slowly driving the world insane. However, traumatized as I was, I needed something to hold onto that seemed somewhat rational to a child.
As what they referred to as a “minor”, I was placed in an orphanage against my will. I was separated from the other children due to my programmed violent tendencies toward them. Given my questionable origins, disconcerting behavior, and shaken condition upon my arrival, I was recommended therapy. At an intake hearing, I mentioned my massive fear of outsiders, who now surrounded me at any given moment, and how I feared they would hurt me if I couldn’t scare them away (reverting to the childish explanation). I couldn’t function in this world, I explained, since I’d been taught that these people were always out to hurt me, which made me want to hurt them to save myself. I did not divulge whom had done this. This intake appointment decided my therapist.
Twenty-six days after the intake appointment, I had my very first session with Raymond Dayton. This man reeked of Meisberger. The dread essence permeated his soul, cast shadows over his life, even as he offered me a warm smile. “Give me a vague idea of where you’re from,“ he implored. But sensing the coldness of his past, I wasn’t having any of that. Using my power for the first time since my escape, I gave him a very simple order:
Tell me everything you know about Meisberger.
Y is for Your Match
Kyle Burton
n
Hey Sharon, thanks for coming to visit me. It’ll be handy for me to vent to someone. Get it? Because I lost a hand? Anyway, I'd like to think I handled that Tinder date pretty well... especially after I found the bodies. Well, they weren't corpses, all bloody and bleaugh and stuff like that, but they definitely used to be attached to human beings and DEFINITELY weren't anymore. Not after Jake got done with them. We matched on Tinder and, in hindsight, he introduced himself with what are some rather obvious tells, like, just read some of these texts:
‘Are you a London tower block because you’re straight :fire: :fire: :fire:’
I was hoping we could maybe stop, drop, and roll
‘I'
m just tryna ignite something here on Tinder, and you looked like you'd be down for maybe hitting The Uptown Scholar tomorrow for coffee?’
Okay so, the Uptown Scholar, have you ever been there? It's this huge place built from an old gutted and remodeled church. Has this whole gothic-cathedral vibe going on, which in my opinion, makes it the coolest bookstore you'll find for about a hundred miles around, and that’s saying something. I mentioned in my profile that I’m a giant bookworm, so this isn’t the first time I’ve met someone there. Speaking of which, I should show you my profile some time, it’s fucking hilarious. I have a terrible pun, this quote from Blackadder about stepping on a landmine, and…yeah, yeah, you’re right, I’m getting off-topic… back to the date. Let’s say that again with a bit of emphasis, I mean, this was The Date I think every other date is gonna be compared against for the rest of my life. The Date was yesterday, for real.
Right, so, that night was boring and I had another ‘something’ to look forward to, at least, aside from the weekend. It’s been exactly half a year since I got laid and it’s about damned time that someone that hot matched me, if I do say so. I have a lot to offer, don’t I? I mean, here, look at his profile, we’re still matched. Yeah, I can see you think he’s hot. I mean look at that lumberjack hunk of a man, don’t tell me you’re not imagining that beard tickling your thighs.
What, you think he’s my match? Yeah, I guess we’d be great together if life, the universe, and everything weren’t literally trying to get me killed yesterday. Anyway, you know which dress I wore; that cute little yellow and blue one? You know, the one I bought at that little store over by the park? I got the vibe that Jake would dig it, and he definitely did. So, we met at the Scholar and he… he just sorta swept me away! I can’t remember what all we talked about, but I remember that he got a ceylon tea, and it just sorta suited him. Oh! And this is weird, he drank it scorching hot, lava hot, like, when I tried a sip of it, I singed my lip. Literally! Look, you can still see the burn a little bit. Yes, it’s that hindsight thing again.