The Esoteric Design

by A. R. Crebs

  The Esoteric Design

  Written & Illustrated by

  A. R. Crebs

  Copyright © 2014 A. R. Crebs

  Edition 2

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1495922589

  ISBN-10: 1495922588

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to Dad. If it weren’t for you allowing me to stay up late watching horror and action films as a child, I probably wouldn’t have developed the twisted imagination that I have. Though you didn’t often read, I know you would’ve liked this story.

  CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Biographies

  Bestiary

  Armor

  Weapons

  World Info

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  "Civilization Lost"

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A special thanks to Cheryl, Robb, and Karen. Your feedback and editing advice have helped tremendously. Thank you to those who pushed, motivated, and cheered me on over the years. Thank you to my fans on the internet; you inspired me to follow my dreams and create this. Thanks to Michelle, because you’re awesome. And thank you to Marcus for listening endlessly to my ideas, my readings, and giving me advice to make the changes necessary to both my writing and artwork. Also, thanks for the help with my weapon designs. They would have ended up looking like squirt guns.

  Thank you to Jade Macalla for allowing me the use of your amazing stock for reference. You’re an extreme help to those in the art community. www.jademacalla.deviantart.com

  The following are links to sites that I used for stock reference for some of the artwork in this book.

  www.fotolia.com

  www.freerangestock.com

  www.texturez.com

  Visit my websites for updates, more artwork, and to participate in some contests!

  www.ARCrebs.com

  www.ARCrebs.deviantart.com

  www.facebook.com/ARCrebs

  Prologue

  BAM!

  The loading dock door to Bio-Tech Military Corporation: Weapons Division laboratory slammed harshly into the wall. Next came the hurried scuffling of black leather boots.

  “What is this?” The head scientist, a middle-aged man with hair barely singed in grey, turned his attention toward the noisy intrusion.

  “The program is being shut down, Dr. Camery.” General Jeron Feyette–a towering, chiseled man not much older than Camery–came forth, handing a digital form to the dazed scientist. It was roughly tugged from the general’s gloved fingers.

  “What are you talking about? What is the meaning of all this?!” Dr. Camery shouted.

  “Orders directly from the CEO. We are to terminate the project and all specimens immediately,” Feyette said in a baritone voice.

  “But, but what about the funding and all the donations given to the project? How is this possible?!” The scientist gasped for air, his heart pounding fiercely against his chest.

  “All the donors have requested that we take a different approach to our research and defensive technology. What you are doing has been deemed unethical and dangerous. As much as Mr. Walten appreciates your hard work, he has made the decision to make some changes within your facility.” Feyette signaled for his men to move. In a mad flurry, the soldiers scattered to all edges of the lab, shutting down the oxygen apparatuses supporting the many specimens before they were removed. “You will continue work as scheduled for a more ethical solution to our problem.” The militant’s face held a condescending and toothy grin.

  “What are you doing? Leave them alone! You can’t move the bodies at these stages!” Dr. Camery was held back by the general, forced to watch his creations be terminated.

  “Sir, either you stand back or we will have to detain you.”

  “But…what are you doing with them?!”

  “Orders are to remove the clones from the facility and destroy them,” General Feyette simply explained.

  “Destroy?! This is my life’s work! You can’t! You just can’t! These are living things!” Dr. Camery watched in horror as the unconscious clones were tugged from their placental containers, fluids spilling onto the tiled floor. Some of the bodies weren’t fully developed; others looked like ordinary sleeping human beings. A shudder vibrated down the scientist’s spine as a few of the pale-skinned specimens heavily dropped onto the floor, their bodies twitching, and he nearly fainted.

  “Exactly. That’s the same conclusion the funding corporations have come to. It is unethical treatment and immoral to create clones to fight in our wars. You create them only to be destroyed.” Feyette spoke to the doctor as if he were a child, ignoring the hellish glare fed his way.

  “Much like you are doing now!” The two stared at each other, filtering their own hypocritical words.

  Dr. Camery lowered his head, unsure of which action to take next. His brain froze, however, as men wearing incombustible suits filed into the laboratory. Each member held a fire-spewing weapon, ironically the same design that was created by Dr. Camery himself.

  “You’re going to burn the clones? You can’t do that!” The scientist rushed forward only to be shoved backward again.

  “Dr. Camery! These are our orders! Now, help us safely remove the specimens, or we can do this the hard way.”

  Dr. Camery thought long and hard before replying, “Just, let me gather my personal things….”

  “You have ten minutes.” General Feyette narrowed his eyes, his voice dropping an octave.

  The professor quickly spun on his heels and nervously slipped into his own private office, separate from the lab. He fussed with the heavy deadbolt on the door until a loud clunk of the lock sliding into place sounded. Rushing to the records case, he felt he couldn’t move fast enough. To the side of the wooden casing was a plain device that appeared to be a thermostat. Camery flipped the cover and diligently entered a series of codes. After only a second, the case slipped open from the wall, revealing a cylindrical tank which held a beautiful little girl with hair a dirty-blonde and skin pale as porcelain. Her face expressed a small, sweet smile. Someone would think she was sleeping if it wasn’t for her mangled lower half.

  “You are my pride and joy. They’ve taken everything away from me, but they won’t take you.” Dr. Camery smiled with a tear in his eye. His hand ran over the thick glass, his eyes watching the child’s closed ones. He frantically pressed against a blinking red switch on the side panel of the giant tube. The container hummed, vibrating quietly against the exterior partition, and slid backward into the wall before dropping down a chute.

  Waiting on the lower floor of the Weapons Division lab was an armored automated truck that the specimen tank would drop into. The truck would conceal the top-secret possession and transport it to the doctor’s private lab inside his ‘vacation home’—that is if the truck hadn’t been discovered yet.

  Camery turned his tired gaze through the two-way mirror above his desk. The soldiers were having a heyday destroying his lab and creations. His terminal’s crystal drive was confiscated; the backup files were destroyed. Thankfully, he noticed the soldiers were only burning
the hardcopy documents and underdeveloped creations. A loading truck sat outside the facility where the clones were collected, most likely to be disposed of at the garbage facility. The doctor gave a harsh sigh and turned away toward his office window.

  “They’ll never find you there,” he whispered, watching the automated truck fade away into the distance.

  Chapter 1

  “OW! You freakin’ did that on purpose!” Troy howled as he grabbed high on his inner thigh. He looked down at the small blotch of paint splashed over his pants. Too close for comfort. “Damn it, Aria.”

  “You’re such a baby,” Aria mumbled, rolling her eyes.

  She turned her head around the corner of the metal barricade she was hiding behind and glimpsed Troy as he gawked down at himself and watched the paint smear into the camouflage pattern of his uniform. “Dang, I missed,” Aria sarcastically called out.

  “You’re lucky you missed!” Troy stood and raised his weapon, firing a blast directly at the woman’s head. Aria quickly ducked, the paint spraying over the edge of the barricade. There was a moment of silence. Troy held his breath, the grin on his face growing wider the longer the stillness continued.

  “TROY!” the woman growled in anger. “You got it in my HAIR!”

  Troy shared a small laugh with himself. “Matches the blue streak!” He spun in a half turn, hiding behind his own wall and listened intently to the shuffle of Aria’s boots nearing his position. The man closed his eyes, waiting patiently. He waited and waited, suddenly growing impatient.

  ‘Where is she?’ A frown covered his features. Troy’s eyes, olive in color, popped open; he tried to feel the area with his senses. ‘Behind me.’ He gripped his gun and turned around the corner and fired one shot into thin air, the blast echoing in the silence of the warehouse.

  “Wha–?” He felt his neck hairs stand on end.

  Aria was sneaky due to her small, tight frame. She reminded Troy of a cat, one with black fur and bright-green eyes, the type that was superstitiously the cause of bad luck.

  Troy crouched, moving his gun out to the side. He looked forward as he moved his mock-up EM-M4 antique to the left and to the right, checking his surroundings. A blue holographic screen projected the gun’s camera images over his right eye. The camera allowed him to get a 360-degree view of his surroundings; he could look forward and get a side view simultaneously. Still, Aria was nowhere to be found. The man grunted.

  Plop, plop, plop. The sound emitted from above him as paintballs slammed into his back. Troy spun, twisting and shooting up into the air as Aria was falling down on him fast; she had been hiding on top of the barrier he had been using for cover.

  ‘Just like a cat.’ Troy guarded himself as the woman crashed on top of him. She slammed him mercilessly onto the ground, his helmet smacking the concrete. Without hesitation, the slinky woman jumped to her feet, lifted her rifle, and continued to shoot the man in the torso four more times, then raised the barrel ever so slightly to plant one paint splatter onto the front center of his helmet.

  “Okay…I’m dead,” Troy grumbled. He glared at the woman standing over him. She smiled brightly in return, a pure expression of innocence covering her features. “I’m glad the only time you smile is when you get to kill me.” His words were sour.

  “Oh, whatever, Troy.” Carelessly, she stepped over the man and strolled toward the entrance of the training center. “I’m just trying to help you.” Her voice raised in pitch as she waved an arm at him.

  “By always kicking my ass? That doesn’t help.” He rolled to his feet, groaning as he did so.

  “Well, it’s not my fault you can’t adapt to surroundings and grow as a soldier.” She looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him.

  “You cheat,” he said in protest, running a hand over his chest. The paint smeared under calloused fingertips.

  “Using the facility’s surroundings are not cheating. It’s actually there for you to use. You can’t just shoot and hide all the time. You have to strategize.” The woman laid her gun on the table and handed her spare magazines to the clerk.

  “I weigh at least twice as much as you do. I can’t just silently scale a wall.” The man’s tone dripped with annoyance. Troy towered over Aria, the woman only standing up to his shoulder, and his build was nearly all muscle. Whereas he could handle most enemies with just his strength, Aria could easily beat Troy when it came to wits. When paired together, the two made the perfect team.

  “I see you got shot this time.” The clerk smiled at Aria.

  The woman rolled her eyes upward and pointed at her head. The clerk nodded. “It’s just splatter from the barricade. Troy still missed,” Aria informed and quickly headed for the exit.

  Troy raised his weapon and shot once, the pellet slamming against Aria’s black leather-covered rear-end. The woman gave a quick jump followed by a yelp. She grabbed her right cheek and turned on her heel, feeding the man a nasty glare.

  “Looks like you’ll have to take those to the dry cleaning.” He shrugged. Aria opened her mouth and began to string together the most colorful slur of insults but was interrupted by a pink-haired, tan young woman sauntering quickly toward her partner. Her small entourage of friends lingered behind, chatting and giggling amongst themselves.

  “Nice helmet, Troy,” she spoke to the man, patting him on the shoulder while giving a high-pitched giggle. Aria’s nostril wrinkled at the sound. It was disgusting.

  “Well, when you’re up against Satan herself, I would suggest wearing a helmet.” Troy smirked, pointing at the brown meshed bowl on his head.

  “Oh….” The girl turned, following the man’s hand, and met her gaze with the glaring, green eyes of Aria.

  “She’s rough,” he growled.

  “He’s a baby,” Aria added.

  “You slammed my head into the floor!” Troy shouted. “You’d crack my head open!”

  “It’d just match all the red paint.” Aria shrugged, pointing out once again how badly the man had lost.

  “I don’t get why you two use those paintballs anyway. Don’t they hurt?” the younger woman asked. Aria glared at the artificially-colored, new recruit.

  “Well…” Troy began.

  “No. Not compared to a real bullet,” Aria butted in.

  “Then why not just use the lasers? They don’t hurt. Besides, the bracelet counts how many times you were hit and where you were hit.” She raised her wrist to show Aria as if she hadn’t seen one before. “Plus, it doesn’t ruin your clothes.”

  This brought Aria’s attention to the younger woman’s attire. She was wearing street clothes. She had tight pants with decorative pockets and a low-hanging top. Her friends were all dressed similarly.

  “Because this doesn’t train you for getting hit with a real bullet!” Aria shouted.

  Troy could sense Aria’s irritation rising. “She’s right.” He slid between the two women. “Getting shot by a paintball at least hurts enough to train the body for pain and quick reactions. It also teaches you to be aware of both yourself and your position on the field in regards to your enemy. A laser gun doesn’t do any of that. You can get hit fifteen times and never even notice. Get hit once by a real bullet, and that can be your last. Lasers don’t train you for real war; they train you for games.”

  “Speaking of games, when did this place start selling tickets to kids on the street?” Aria folded her arms, nudging her head toward the girl’s companions. “This isn’t laser tag.”

  “Oh, come on! It’s just a game; it’s not like we’re actually shooting each other, like you said,” the other woman protested.

  “You’re in a military facility! Get your friends out of here!” Aria shouted. “If you want to play games, go to the mall.”

  “Troy?!” The girl looked at him with her large, artificially-teal eyes. She placed her manicured hand on the man’s arm.

  ‘Uh oh….’ Troy froze. He didn’t need to turn around to see the glare Aria was feeding him. In fact, he co
uld feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.

  Running a hand through his trimmed facial hair, he muttered, “Listen, uh…” he thought a second, “Amber. This is a training facility for military personnel. It is illegal to have your friends in here. Why don’t you guys go outside and play?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

  “But—”

  “Now! Or I’ll have you discharged immediately,” Aria snarled.

  They all stood still for a moment. Troy shuffled his feet awkwardly, and finally the bubblegum-blonde turned after giving Troy a fierce look and left to get her group of friends.

  “GOD!” Aria threw her arms into the air. “This is getting ridiculous.” She walked hurriedly down the hall.

  “Mmm-hm.” Troy nodded, struggling to keep up with the woman.

  “I can’t believe she would come waltzing in here with her friends! How’d she get them in here in the first place?!” Aria griped and grumbled about the security of the facility and continued on about how the new virtual training was teaching the soldiers nothing. “Pain creates a real sensation whereas laser guns are only as beneficial as a videogame for training.” She went on about the weapons division, the President and if he even knew what went on in the corporation, and then finally got to the subject of the color of the girl’s hair and her fake skin tone. Throughout the whole ordeal, Troy nodded and mumbled a few grunts in acknowledgment. “And you’re not even listening to me!” She stopped and spun about-face. He would have crashed into her if it weren’t for her hand pushing against his chest. “I can’t believe you slept with a bimbo like that.”

  “W-what?” Troy stuttered; his olive-green eyes were large with innocence.

  “That ditz in there who thinks she’s working for a theme park.”

  “I…uh…I didn’t sleep with her,” Troy nervously laughed.

  “Troy, you sleep with every woman that talks to you.” Aria began walking.