The Colony Box Set

by J. D. Grayson

  After waiting a long minute, Aionios sat back down. “He may rise.”

  A trembling Dr. Freedmen leaned up, though was forced to remain kneeling. Looking backward, he gasped in shock. “Commander Grey? You’ve turned on me too? Don’t tell me you serve him.”

  Leaning inward, the commander whispered with seething revenge. “I serve myself.”

  Fear filled Freedmen’s eyes, as his newly humbled gaze returned to Aionios. “Aionios...we can work out a deal.”

  “I’ve already heard your deal. Sacrifice my heir...deny the written prophecy...or die. I’d imagine you’d like to renegotiate.”

  Raymond paused, stuttering, “This is a show...a scam...a classic cult! We prey upon the weak, taking their money, things, lives. In return, they get life’s necessities...freedom from thought and responsibility. A fair deal. The golden book was created in a factory. There’s nothing waiting for them on the other side...their lives have no value...neither does yours!” His words revealed his true Communist beliefs: nothing at all.

  A disturbed look crossed Aionios’ face. For a moment, he almost bought the revelation. However, that didn’t last long. Turning towards his guards, he shouted, “Lock him up! Strip him like a lowly citizen. Let’s see how much value his life holds...upon the sacrificial altar!”

  Commander Grey kicked Freedmen to the floor. Guards yanked off the condemned man’s clothes, shaming him like he’d shamed so many others. He was cuffed, and forced to his feet.

  “You can’t do this! The colony will die without me to run it!”

  “Not to worry, Raymond. The colony will die...soon after you do.”

  “No!” he screamed.

  “Chain him in the underground cell.”

  Commander Grey smirked, watching sweet revenge. Aionios embraced the desperate screams, having once unleashed them himself. They were courtesy of the Freedmen family in his childhood.

  Despite Dr. Freedmen’s claims, Aionios felt more godlike than ever before.

  Part III-Truth

  Nightfall arrived. The messenger led hours of repetitive worship, focusing heavily on the prophecy. Everyone exited to the torch lit circle of fire, ready for ceremony. Aionios stepped upon the balcony. Eden stood behind him. It appeared to be a typical night, though it would be far from routine.

  A virgin was soaked in Paradox wine, each citizen tongue tasted the sweetness. Dylan was slow to drink. He wanted his wits about him, hoping to see his wife. Where could Alexa be? He wondered. Is she Healthy? Happy? Hurt? As much as he didn’t want to ponder it, he wondered, Is she carrying his child?

  His answer was about to come, as Aionios’ amplified voice sailed through the air. “Citizens...I have an announcement!” The crowd got quiet, tensely focusing on his coming words. Shouting at the top of his lungs, he yelled, “The prophecy is fulfilled!”

  Dylan gasped, as his fellow colonists exploded in celebration. Looking up at Eden, Mr. Hunter saw the worry on her face. He suddenly realized, She’s going to die. We’re all going to die. The only question left was the execution’s date.

  “Bow to the chosen one!” Aionios shouted to the worshippers.

  A hazed Alexa exited onto the balcony. Rings of colorful flowers haloed her wavy hair. Her nude body was beaded with tiny red crystals, sparkled by spotlights. The Aionions dropped to their knees in praise.

  I’ve lost her, Dylan said to himself. However, as he studied the crazed look upon her face, he knew it wasn’t his wife staring back. Sickness filled her baggy eyes. Gazing into nothing, she had a vegetative stare to her.

  He suddenly realized the true gift they’d once possessed. Alexa’s edge and Dylan’s caution provided crucial balance to their lives. Without it, she would’ve fallen to her addiction long ago. While he was her stability, she forced him to take risks, taste life.

  In her current state, she’d unlikely survive a childbirth. It was obvious, she needed him as much as he needed her. Whether she knew it or not. The question was, could he convince her of that fact.

  Bright lights blasted his drugged wife’s face. He told himself, The lifeless stare in her eyes...she’s not herself. It’s like...her body’s there...her minds not. Paradox, he silently declared.

  “Down!” a voice sounded from behind. A guard shoved Dylan into a bowing position. He quickly dropped in praise, not needing to make himself a target. No longer caring about his own life, he came to a decision. I’m going to save my wife. To do so...I’ll have to save Eden first. Dylan anxiously awaited the ceremony's end, though another surprise was in-store for him.

  Aionios shouted, “In honor of this holy event, I’ll unleash a prize for you to sacrifice.” The crowd cheered, as the virgin was untied, set free. As one set of temple guards escorted her away, another entered with a hooded man. Struggling to break away, the nude prisoner was forced onto the stone altar. His wrists and ankles were chained in place.

  A temple guard yanked the hood off. To everyone’s shock, Dr. Freedmen was revealed. The crowd gasped in disbelief. Dylan’s pulse raced with adrenaline. Much like the Hunters, they were each put to Raymond’s final psychological test.

  The tests were shameful, meant to gauge loyalty, weaken moral fortitude. Although only Alexa was chosen by Freedmen himself, he approved them all. Every colony member met Raymond in their final level of cleanliness. They also saw him at each new member induction.

  “Thomas,” Dylan whispered from his lips. The guilt he’d hidden, flowed like an icy river in spring sunshine. He thought back to the first fight with his friend. Alexa’s cries still rung inside his ears, while he bloodied Thomas’ cheating face. Though even as enraged as he was, he stopped from taking life. His individual mind knew the difference between right and wrong.

  Gazing back up at a beaten Dr. Freedmen, Dylan recalled the exact opposite. Raymond’s words ached Mr. Hunter’s ears like an infection. He remembered the challenge made. ‘We both know...your path to eternity, runs through him. I’m ordering you to avenge your pride. He coveted your earthly property...picking her anal cherry from the most sacred of trees. End his hold on you...forever,’ Dr. Freedmen had taunted him.

  Serving as matador to Dylan’s bull, Freedmen had flapped the red cape. Blinded by anger, Hunter didn’t recognize it at the time. The murder felt like his own choice, his own desire. In reality, it was part of a larger plan. By dragging Dylan into darkness, he’d embrace the colony’s light. His self-blame would be so great, he’d do anything to be cleansed. Even if that meant following the devil into hell itself.

  Aionios shouted again, interrupting Dylan’s audial flashback. “Freedmen blasphemed me! He tried to take me from your hearts! Now, children...it is time to take his heart!”

  The hyper-drugged crowd attacked Dr. Freedmen in hungry delirium. Grasping at every body part, they bit, tore, and scraped at his skin. Dylan wanted to join in, seeking revenge. Though he’d only be playing the colony’s role. I’m not one of them, Dylan silently declared. Therefore, I won’t act like one of them.

  Within moments, Raymond Freedmen’s cries were silenced. His appendages and organs were all removed, body defaced. Covering themselves in his remains, they finally beheaded the man. The crowd held Freedmen’s severed head up high. Joy filled Aionios’ face, as the dark deity laughed in pure satisfaction.

  Having controlled every aspect of the company, Freedmen’s signature stamp was now in Commander Grey’s hands. There was no way to prove the orders weren’t actually Raymond’s. Most things were done by computer and phone. Anonymity was cherished. Not only did the signature control the money, it would soon control the colony’s collective fate.

  Turning to a temple guard, Aionios quietly addressed him. Nodding, the red robed man headed for Eden. As her arm was grabbed, she yanked away in rebellion. She was dragged inside.

  Dylan watched her disappear. Aionios brought Alexa to his side. He placed his black hand upon her pale belly, shouting, “The heir is conceived...prophecy fulfilled! In one night’s time, Eden shall perish by
fire! The days of the reaping are upon us!

  Elation filled the air. Drums pounded, as wild primitive dancing and fucking began. Though nothing would compare to the coming days. The citizens would fulfill every untapped desire inside them.

  Dylan had no plans to be amongst them. Breaking away from the gathered crowd, he had something to prove. He had to test Eden’s truth.

  Hunter headed to the education wing.

  *****

  Dylan quietly crept into the commune. Upon entering, a parade of medics, staff members and servants rushed around like mad mice. Dylan paused in defeat. He thought, I’ll never get into the room with them around.

  To his surprise, they paid him no attention. The chaos quickly disappeared along with them. They entered the medic station, opposite the worship center. Appearing panicked, they seemed to be preparing for something big, something final. It suddenly occurred to Dylan, These people are loyal to Freedmen. Once the smoke clears, their deaths will likely follow. They’re preparing to flee.

  The advantage was momentarily Dylan’s. Rushing through the worship center, he arrived at the chained door. Giving it a hard yank, it didn’t budge. The lock was old, keyhole corroded.

  Looking around, he searched for something to break it with. Within moments, a golden glimmer caught his eye. “It could work,” he said in hope. Grabbing the solid Book of Aionios, he headed back to the door.

  Pausing in fear, he worried about the noise it would make. However, it was obvious the workers had other tasks to complete. Taking his chances, Dylan lifted the heavy book above his head. He hurled it downward with all might. The force of gravity combined with the metallic element, creating an earsplitting crash.

  Mr. Hunter let his adrenalized curiosity flow. Upon impact, the golden book cracked in two. Dylan crashed to the floor with the book halves. A closer examination revealed it was fool’s gold (iron pyrite), painted with gold metallic sheen. He suddenly realized it was as false as the deity himself. The Colony wasn’t paradise, but hell in holy robes.

  Momentarily occupied by the fall, a smaller jingle regained his attention. Looking upward, he saw the chain hang loosely. The old door creaked open, letting out stale air and darkness.

  Dylan trembled at the unknown. He slowly stood, silently thinking, I don’t know what would be worse. Finding something...or nothing. Dragging his feet, he peeked his head inside. There was no light or windows. The outer light illuminated a small area of space, showing a dusty tile floor. Venturing further inside, his eyes slowly adapted to darkness. Covering wide stretches of emptiness, he didn’t go further.

  The moldy sent of inaction told him everything. For the first time, he didn’t rely on eyes to tell him truth. There is no education center. There are no children here...there never was, he silently declared.

  Where those children were, remained a mystery. Though it didn’t matter anymore. Sets of parents put such trust in the colony, they might as well been dogs in a puppy mill. They truly owned nothing, not even their offspring.

  Eden wasn’t lying, Dylan declared, backing away from the haunting room. She’s Alexa’s only hope left...and I’m Eden’s.

  *****

  Gunner Smith held a black sword in his hands. Looking it over like a proud parent, he ran his finger along the glossy, black blade. Its edge was so finely sharpened, it could slice human bone into thin paper. Made of Obsidian, the volcanic rock weapon was formed from heat, cold water, and endless scraping. Joined to a solid carved handle, the glassy blade was deadly.

  Seeing his dirty blond beard in the reflection, Gunner was at his best. Never one for ritzy rooms or fancy meals, nature was his church. Battle was his altar. Before he headed into a blaze of glory, Rudd made him a deal.

  “Stick around a bit longer, kid...I’ll help you make one of these,” the elder man said, unleashing an arsenal of badass natural weapons. They were formed from tree trunks, rocks, and other natural resources. “I can’t help ya fight...though we’ll make you a weapon that will.”

  A fan of swords his entire life, Gunner Smith knew how to handle a blade. While serving in Afghanistan, he was caught in a firefight. Out of Ammo, his men were about to surrender to the ruthless Taliban. With his personal sword in hand, Gunner charged ten of the scumbags, cutting them to pieces with rage and a blade. He made sure to take each bloody turban as a memento.

  That moment was in front of him again. The enemy would be greater in number and training. They were armed and paid mercenaries. It was a suicide mission and he knew it. It wouldn't be his first, possibly his last. Though his theory was, I’d rather die fighting like an Englishmen...than hiding like a Frenchmen.

  Rudd joined Gunner, who was polishing his sword. “Kid...you sure about this? You don’t know if Jenna’s alive...though you sure know the odds.”

  “Shite odds...from the moment I was born,” he said with a wink.

  He saw the dedication on Gunner’s face. “You truly love her.”

  “Enough to die for her. I followed her to this bloody place, didn’t I? Surely you felt the same...after losing your woman?”

  A look of sad regret crossed Rudd’s face. “The truth is...I don’t know how she died. A part of me...wants to believe she was spared.”

  “Probably best at this point, mate.”

  “I turned 50...a year before she did. Never got to say goodbye, nothing. They ambushed me alone.”

  “But if you had to do it over again...you’d go back for her.”

  He paused in sadness. “Hell yeah, I would.”

  “Then give it a go, mate. This is your chance to make things right. Lead these people...one last hurrah. Bullocks...it’s gotta be better than eating bat balls.”

  Rudd exhaled with a slight smile. “I got nothing left in me. I exited the colony...a strong, but fearful kid. I was alone...fighting the elements and two enemies. It’s ironic...but now I’m weak, but brave. I have the courage, just not the spunk.”

  “Bullshite, I saw you crush those flesh-eatin’ bastards. You’re a natural-born ass kicker, old or not!”

  “I’m a survivor. That’s all.”

  “Surely mate...there’s gotta be more to life than surviving?”

  “There was...before coming here,” he said, looking down in self-disgust. “But we can’t go back. Brunswick Georgia’s a long way away.”

  “No, I guess we can’t,” Gunner said in his own regretful voice. “Cardiff’s just as far, mate.”

  “Is that a part of England?”

  “Wales. England’s a part of us.”

  Patting Mr. Smith on the back, Rudd said, “Well, if you ever get back there, tell ‘em old Rudd said hello.”

  “You can tell ‘em yourself...when I free you wankers.”

  The two men laughed. “Tomorrow night, win one for both our wives...OK, kid?”

  “Will do...rebel,” Gunner said with a smirk. He held up his black sword, letting the flame’s orange glow reflect upon the smooth surface.

  “Good luck and God speed. And when I say God...I sure as hell don’t mean Aionios.”

  *****

  Dylan hurried down a rainy beach, heading towards Eden’s lair. Bright lightning lit the way, flashing hot, deadly, and beautiful. With no way to surprise the guard at her entrance, he had to improvise. The only way to approach unseen was from the sea itself.

  Swimming out a distance from Eden’s Rock, he fought through swirling surf. Dylan’s strong arms propelled his body forward, rain poured down. Unarmed, he had to be creative with his assault. Arriving at the connecting concrete boardwalk, he descended beneath the structure. Floating face down, he appeared within eye sight of the red robed man.

  Another flash of white lightning danced across the sky. The temple guard caught sight of the naked body. Rushing towards the corpse, the guard poked Dylan with the bayonetted staff. Shocked by the sharpened point, Dylan jolted from his stiffened state.

  Ordered not to let anyone approach, the temple guard readied his staff. He aimed the blade at Dylan�
�s flopping frame. The red robed guard jabbed his deadly weapon. Sensing impending death, Mr. Hunter sunk into the sea. To his surprise, the spear swiped wildly off course. It was followed by the staff itself, sailing to the shallow sandy bottom.

  Finally, the guard crashed from above. Engulfed in a robed cloud, shock filled Dylan. Forcing his eyes wide-open, overhead lightning lit the blue waters beneath. Within moments, they were stained with red blood.

  The masked guard had a dagger partially lodged in the back of his head. Hunter shoved the enemy away, bursting up into the rainy atmosphere. Before he could take a breath, a desperate hand reached from below, pulling him back down.

  A clothed arm wrapped Dylan’s neck. Hurling an elbow into the dying enemy, Hunter broke free. The two began wrestling for control. One fought for life, the other fought to extend it. They spun in a dance of death, hurling slow-motion fists at the other.

  Running out of air, Mr. Hunter had to act fast. Noticing the dagger hanging shallowly from the guard’s head, Dylan wrapped his opponent in a deadly hug. Reaching around for the weapon, he forced it deep into the enemy’s skull. Another spout of blood flowed, as the robed man went still.

  Returning to the surface, Dylan cleared his eyes. Feminine beauty filled his sights. It was Eden. She shouted, “Get his robe...and his mask. You’re going to need it.”

  *****

  Eden led Dylan into her concrete lair. Passing the lagoon of snakes, she brought him to the masked slave, Jenna Smith. She was chained by the ankles, hanging upside-down. Still heavily drugged from the paradox, it was just another haze she’d hardly remember. Although Eden took the slave down occasionally, it all depended upon her mood.

  Dylan handed the robe and mask to the seductive siren. Eden took them from his hands, putting it safely aside. “I’ve been expecting you,” she said.

  “It’s time to take Aionios down,” Dylan proclaimed.

  Her dark eyes met his. “Tomorrow night...you’ll lead me to my sacrifice. That’s when you’ll stab him in the back...on the balcony. Everyone will see it.”