by Roadbloc
The sound of Jad’s voice crept into Jink’s head. It was an imaginary scolding for not wearing his safety harness. However once his eyes brushed over Jad’s assumingly dead body, slumped in the passenger seat of the car, blood oozing out of his head, he assured himself and his all-important, Requiem fuelled ego that not wearing his safety harness whilst driving had been the right thing to do. And now he didn’t even have to get rid of Jad. On the unlikely chance he was alive, he’d be consumed by the flames which were currently chewing away at the car before he regained consciousness.
Jink span around, ignoring the ache of his body, to face wherever it was they’d crashed into. The headlights from the wreck of the car illuminated a large hall, all underground. Drab, dirty and cracked mosaic tiles decorated the place, climbing their way up pillars that obviously held the ground above from caving in.
Squinting through the dust, the headlights revealed that this space was mostly empty, a long hall of some sort with pillars dotted around and what looked to be a long thin hole running the length of it. He looked up to the other side of the long narrow creek of sorts to the wall of the other side of the hall. A large sign caught his eye.
High Green.
Jink had no idea what it meant. Nor did he care. There were several other signs dotted about, one advertising a place called ‘The Drinking Well’ another advertising ‘Anchor Insurance’. He crept forward, through decades of air dust, towards the long hole thing. He got to the edge and looked down. Not much was to be seen, the long hole didn’t go down very far, and appeared to have rusted strips of metal and rotten bits of wood at the bottom. A rusting metal sign was just visible, obviously it had fallen from somewhere. The words on it were unreadable to Jink.
“Welcome my son.”
The voice from behind him made Jink jump. He spun around, to be faced by a tall man. His face covered by a shadow created by the bright lights of the headlights, shining in Jink’s eye. It wasn’t Jad, so who could it be?
“Welcome, to the System.”
Jink approached the mysterious figure who appeared to be addressing him with caution. He had quite a high pitched voice, it sounded strained and somewhat harmonious.
“Who are you?” asked the tall figure as Jink approached.
There was a pause as Jink squinted, trying to recognise the figure. He was just about to tell the figure his name was Jink and ask who he was, when there was a soft buzzing noise. The man removed a small mechanical device from a large furry coat. It had a glowing orange light, lighting up his face. Jink saw the face of a weathered ageing man. And this was hurricane weathered, not a light shower on a Sunday morning countryside stroll. The small machine spat out a scrap of paper which the figure tore out and inspected whist returning the machine back into a sea of fur.
“It’s okay, we know who you are,” said the old man.
Jink was lost for words and somewhere at the back of his mind, he was contemplating that he might be dead and he was experiencing an afterlife of sorts. The scrap of paper was screwed up and tossed onto the dusty mosaic floor.
“You’re known as Jink although that isn’t your birth name. What is known to be a post-Deimosgate survivor. You live with your acquaintance, Jad the third.”
Jink was just about to query on how this mysterious man knew so much when another question was fired at him.
“How have you been?”
Another slight pause on behalf of Jink. He was only just beginning to start the though process of answering the question when the soft buzzing noise struck again, and the small machine with the orange glowing diode was revealed again, ejecting another bit of paper for the man to read.
“It’s all right, we know where you’ve been!” he said triumphantly, “You’ve been out hunting for the Requiem. Driving the car whilst your acquaintance fills the weapon full of shells. Egotistic fuelled minds cause the crash. And now you’re stood right in front of me.”
“Where am I?” Jink spat out the words as though they were toxic on his tongue.
“You’re inside the old subway,” the second bit of paper joined the first.
“The what?”
“The subway. It is a fast method of transport over long distances. Essentially a long car that ran on a guided track. It used to be the connection between all the cities, before relations crumbled. A war broke out between the three major cities, Union, Elision and some-other one that slips my mind now. I think it began with J. No, H. Defiantly H. Not that will matter to you at all, no, no, the war broke out and the subway was closed, much of it filled in. Everyone from that moment on was essentially a prisoner.”
Jink stared at the rambling man, unsure what to say and unsure what he was on about. But he heard one word that made his ear prick up. Union. The rumoured safe haven, the land of plenty. Jad had always slagged the rumours off as nonsense. But he talked rubbish. Utter rubbish. Jad knew nothing. He was dead and it was just Jink now. And Union sounded like a place he wanted to be.
“Union? Have you been there?” asked Jink, beginning to get excited.
“I’ve had my fair share of residence there. Inherited this coat from there actually from a strange man who supervised a pipe factory. Isn’t it cool? Real beaver fur apparently. From the last ten beavers ever. Why do you appear to be so thrilled about the thought of Union?”
Before Jink could utter a word in reply, the buzz was heard again, machine taken out and paper read.
“It’s okay. We know why you’re so thrilled,” chuckled the man, “You’re thrilled because you are under the illusion that Union is Requiem free and has plenty of food. This illusion was ignited by whispered rumours and your acquaintance’s apparent refusal to talk about such matters. Well, you’re right in thinking there is no Requiem or lack of what they call ‘food’ over there... but your sort are not allowed into Union. That aside, you wouldn’t be able to get your fix for Requiem meat over there.”
Jink wasn’t in the mood for riddles, “Do you know how to get there?”
“I do, but I’m not telling you,” replied the man, adding to his pile of screwed up paper, “You’re too caught up in the System here.”
“Why won’t you tell me!?” screamed Jink, his Requiem driven ego furious that it was not getting its own way.
“Because human beings are not allowed into Union anymore,” replied the man, “They slipped quietly into extinction many years ago.”
The thought of feasting over the Requiem re-entered Jink’s head. He hadn’t had his fix yet.
“I’m going now,” said Jink, heading over to the ruin of the car, “Goodbye now.”
In one swoop of the arm, the man prevented Jink from walking past him and threw him back near the rail tracks.
“What the-” began Jink.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that.”
“Why!?”
“You’re part of the System. And in a System, old parts need replacing with old parts. That’s why you’re here. You’re going to be replaced. And you’re going to be a new part at the very same time.”
“You’re not making any sense! Let me go you loon!”
“Listen to me Jink,” the man continued in his monotonous drone, “You were all fooled. Even your supposed great land’s father was conned. We conned them. We introduced the Ninety-Nine, and turned this sad patch of land you call Elision City into a parts farm for Union. Union won the war. And greater still, we won the war for Union. So basically, we win. And you’re land’s father sits in his castle, looking upon this mess every day and trying to convince the surrounding cities that everything is A-Okay. And maybe the other cities are convinced. But not Union. We created this paradise.”
Jink still didn’t understand, “What are you?”
“Let me ask you a question Jink,” said the man, “What did you dream?”
Jink had no intention of answering the question, but before he could even utter a syllable of disgust, the buzzing had started again and the man was reading another bit of paper.
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“It’s okay, we told you what to dream! You dreamed of killing the acquaintance you once held so dear to you. All triggered by your addiction to Requiem. Don’t you see it yet Jink? Elision fell right into our trap, just as Union had. We created this mess so we can repair ourselves.”
“What- Are- You!?” screamed Jink.
“We’re the next generation of humans,” was the reply, “You’re version one. You’re out-dated. You still rely on procreation. You are riddled with all sorts of shortcomings. We are version two. And you live in our parts replacement facility system. They did mention a vermin issue. And you have just saved me from having to catch some parts myself. I can just use you. You’ll be compatible enough. So welcome. Welcome to a world run by Copland. Welcome to the System.”
There was a loud bang. A gunshot. Jink flinched, tempted to scream out in pain. But there was no pain. He hadn’t been shot. Jink glanced up to see that there was now a rather large hole in the man’s head, which was dripping a strange luminous green liquid. Jink felt the liquid against his own face, the force of the gunshot had sent the man’s internal objects and liquids splattering against Jink’s face. A silhouette appeared in the shining headlight in the gap in the man’s head. It was Jad. He was alive!
“I, I, I-I-I-I-I-I-IIIIII- am coooooool,” malfunctioned the man, “E-e-e-enncroaching onnn mmmmy p-p-p-pppersonal spacccce- I’dsoonerdiethandresslikethat. That.”
And with that, he collapsed to the ground, introducing the glowing green fluid to the dusty tiles. Jad pumped the weapon.
Jink was totally lost for words. Jad had saved him. He’d left Jad for dead and Jad had saved him, despite it being obvious that Jad’s ego was inflated by Requiem, he hadn’t gone as far as Jink had. Suddenly, Jink felt awful. What had he become? A monster. Worse than that. Jink looked at his hands. They were practically see-through.
“Whoa. Green,” said Jad, who had now walked over and was poking the remains of the supposed android.
“I don’t feel good,” said Jink, looking up at Jad’s translucent figure, “Can we go home?”
“What? No ya can not,” said Jad, heading back to the wreckage of the car, “Come on, let’s get our food. Look, we gotta move, it’s a wonder the Requiem ain’t come for us down here already. Who was that guy by the way? I’ll tell ya summat, he has green blood. Dunno how me managed that one.”
Jink didn’t move, grabbing his hair, he was close to tears, “Some nut job. He was going to kill me so thanks. Now please, I’m begging you we need to just go home. Can’t you see what eating this stuff has made us?”
Jad paused and turned back and looked upon the sobbing Jink.
“I, never knew,” muttered Jink, tears rolling down his dirty face, “I never realised we’d become one of, them,” he looked back up at Jad, “We need to go home because, it’s for our own good. Were addicted to the Requiem.”
“Shut it boy,” snapped Jad, marching back to Jink, “So what if we’re addicted, its great stuff and it keeps us alive. There is no food but the Requiem. So get of ya moral high horse, put them pompoms down, wipe the drool off your face and find us another vehicle. This one is wrecked and I want feeding tonight. Ya want to starve to death, go away and be my guest. I can survive by myself. You know you can’t.”
“You don’t get it do you?” Jink snapped back, wiping the tears from his face, “This stuff is driving us apart! We haven’t talked about anything but Requiem ever since we started eating the stuff. And don’t think I don’t know what you do to the female ones that miraculously disappear from the stocks. You make me fucking sick!”
A silence fell between them. A nastily awkward silence. Planets collided in their minds.
“And I could survive without you,” continued Jink after the silence, “Easily.”
“That’s the Requiem talking and ya know it!” yelled Jad, spittle flying out his mouth in a furious manner, “Now shut ya trap up and find us a vehicle!”
“Hit a nerve have I? Good, I hope your disgusting actions haunt you for the rest of your sad, pitiful life!”
Jad stood there, furious and lost for words. Jink’s brain began to hurt. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to taste the flesh. He desperately didn’t want to but desperately did at the same time. Just one fix. Just one more fix. Then that will be it. Over. He would resume scavenging. He just had to get rid of Jad first.
“At least I’ll be having a damn life!” screamed Jad, raising the weapon to Jink, “You ungrateful little wretch. Without me ya wouldn’t even exist. Rather fitting that the very person to help you survive in this land is the one to take you out of it. Don’t ya think?”
“Bring it you-” that is as far as he got. His voice was drowned out by a blood curdling screech from behind Jad.
Jad turned to see a large creature of sorts, large as a bear, with transparent scaly skin, a cavernous mouth and claw-like hands.
“Crap! It’s a Red Devil!” said Jad loudly. Before either of them could react, the creature, Red Devil, let out a second ear-splitting scream before leaping forwards down the steps towards them menacingly.
Jink had never seen a Red Devil before, only heard of them. He stared at it, both fascinated and terrified of the creature’s mass. He could see right through it, it’s transparent skin revealing all of its internal organs and systems. Blood pumped though the transparent veins in stomach retching detail.
Before either Jad or Jink could even move, the Red Devil, let out another bowel-moving scream, produced a ball of blue fire in the palm of its rather large, deathly looking hand and flung it towards both Jad and Jink.
The ball of fire hit Jad square in the chest. He was flung backwards by the force of the gaseous object, knocking Jink over as he was propelled onto the rail tracks. Jad’s fall was broken by his head hitting the stonework. The scene was ended by a rather nasty crunch from Jad’s skull.
Jink scrambled on the floor with fright. What was he to do? Jad was now most certainly out cold, if not dead. How had a ball of fire propelled Jad? Unless it wasn’t fire. Jink’s mind was racing hard, life’s images flashing before him to try and drag up a solution from being either torn to pieces or fireball’d to death. With life flashing before his eyes, Jink recognised he had spent far too much of it miserable and hungry. And now his first encounter with a Red Devil. The majority of people’s first encounters with them, were their last encounter with anything.
His mind scanning through a lifetimes worth of memories flashing before his retinas, his thoughts turned to the weapon Jad had. It had dropped to the floor, a short distance away from him, as Jad had fallen to the rail tracks. Or whatever the android thing called them.
The Red Devil approached slowly, letting out another deafening scream. It was now or never. Jink had used a weapon plenty of times before. The challenge was in getting to it and aiming in time. And hoping to God that it was loaded. And he had to do it now. Now!
Jink scrambled up to his legs, avoiding a heavy claw-filled swipe from the Red Devil and stumbled to Jad’s weapon. He grabbed it with both hands and spun around to have a second heavy claw strike him across his face. The needle sharp claws penetrated the surface of his skin, scraping three perfect lines diagonally across his face. Jink howled with pain and fury as the contact ended, a small amount of his face sent flying across his left shoulder.
Blood began seeping out of the three perfect, deep scratches across his face. The weapon clattered to the floor. Jink stumbled around, his vision blurred with pain. He knew he only had seconds left, probably less. He’d pick up the gun and shoot now, but the angry white light of agony wouldn’t leave his eyes, his head.
His eyes scanned over the wreckage of the car in the wall. How had it gone so horribly wrong? He already knew the answer, since the day they began eating the unhallowed meat from the Requiem they were doomed. The evidence off other people they’d seen eat it was enough alone to seal their fate. Ego clashed with ego until this. They’d messed up, big time. And the result was their death.
The thoughts of death turned back to what the android-thing had said. Elision City was just a spare parts factory? The thought angered Jink. He refused to accept it, even though the idea made sense. All dependant on the android telling the truth, but he had heard rumours of Union not being a safe haven but being a land filled with robots.
But they were all stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, damn stupid rumours! All of them. Stupid! He refused to be part of the System. To hell with the System. The System sucked. Jink forced the pain from his face. Stupid System. He wasn’t going to be some factory part. Or even just an anomaly in a factory full of parts. Jink grabbed the weapon.
He spun around. The shadow of the Red Devil crawling up his clawed face. It was time to see if the weapon was loaded or not.
Would You Like A Razor Blade With That Thought Sir?
Today, he was going to kill someone. He knew exactly who. He knew exactly why, although his brain wouldn’t admit it. After a night spent laid wide awake in his bed, fuming and plotting, his mind racing and raging furiously, the conclusion was made. He had to kill her. He just had to. It was the only solution. A final solution. Life would be complete after today.
Jack looked at himself in the grimy mirror, whilst listening to the daily noise of people passing on the street below. He looked like death. An unshaven, ghostly face stared at Jack from the mirror. He had dark rings under his eyes, a complexion that would make a vampire jealous and tired, worn out look about him. Jack felt sorry for the guy. He wanted to help him, cheer him up a bit. In fact, that was a lie. He couldn’t have cared less for the guy in the reflection staring back at him. The entirety of Jack’s emotions, the entirety of his rage, his anxiety, his sheer desperation bottled down to one word. Eliza. He hated her. Oh, how he hated her.