Vending Machine Lunch

by Roadbloc

  “Stay back! Stay back!” the riot Enforcer shouted at him through his protective gear, “Stay back or I will have to stun you! Do you understand?”

  “Please,” said Jack, over the noise of the riot into the Enforcer’s ear, “I just need to get to work. I work at the Valve Offices, I’m late enough already.”

  “I said, get back!” the riot Enforcer yelled at someone else, raising a fist at an angry crowd. A surge behind him pushed Jack forward, the riot Enforcer turned to him, “Right show me your identification card.”

  Jack’s head cursed. ID card. For the love of God, let him not have left it at his flat. He checked his pockets in hope that he’d find it. His hands came into contact with the new knife, and a thought of absurdity entered his head. He eyed the riot Enforcer, now distracted with the rest of the masses as Jack searched for his ID card. It would take less than a second. Rip the knife out and plunge it into the Enforcer’s neck before disappearing into the crowd after the riot barrier. He was out to kill someone anyway, who was to care if a couple more bought it on the way?

  The thought quickly diminished after his hands came into contact with his ID card. He thrust it in the line of sight of the riot Enforcer, who, after inspecting it, let him pass.

  Jack slipped through the riot barrier and into the crowd ahead, accidentally dropping his ID card to the ground as he tried to return it to his pocket. He instantly went to pick it up, however, after being pushed back into the crowd by oncoming people he decided that he didn’t really care that much about the ID card. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d need it again after today. An Enforcer who watched the surveillance camera screens would find him guilty of murder and shoot him. And that would be that.

  Jack considered as he walked, what it must be like to be shot in the head. One second; life. Your head filled with gossip, tax raises, girlfriends, work colleagues, CRT casuals, tobacco, politics, lottery, the war against Union, stupid animated paperclips that get in the way of your word processing, neo-terrorists, PP drugs, riots, the land’s father, the fluff poking out of the hole on the seat in the Metro. Next second; pain.

  And then… nothing. Jack found it quite hard to imagine nothing. No thoughts, no movement, no vision, no sound, no smell, no taste, no breathing, no not-breathing, no… nothing.

  Zero anything.

  His mind chuckled immorally as he thought that Eliza would very soon not have the privilege of a quick and easy death as he was soon would be entitled to. His body shook with excitement at the thought of bringing his switchblade to her naked body. Her reaction would be inexplicably beautiful; at last he would be bringing her back to reality. Showing her what life was really like. Showing her how much she had hurt him.

  Jack knew why he was angry with her. He could no longer stand her not being with him anymore and he was almost ashamed of the fact. The thought that he would never again be able to see her beautiful face light up with happiness when they met tormented him like a child poking a dragon with a stick. He missed the happiness they both felt, he missed the sex, he missed everything about her. Eliza had become his life and now it was over and never to be repaired, he couldn’t stand living. He still loved her with all his heart, but hated her with all his fury and might at the same time.

  And now his fury wanted to commit obscene acts of torture on her. He knew full well that there was no chance she’d go back to him. Raping her before chopping her into tiny little pieces wouldn’t bring her back. It would make things worse, and yet, he still felt compelled to do it. Horrifically compelled.

  Another right turn and he was at the block of flats that Eliza lived in. He knew she would be in. She was always in at this time. They’d spend this time together. Every week. Week after week. Loving and sharing what happiness they had together. But no more. And today, Jack would put an end to his frustration, his fury, his hatred.

  The receptionist eyed Jack suspiciously as he entered the block.

  “Excuse me sir, what is your business here?” she demanded rudely, as Jack attempted to get through the barrier without acknowledging her. Jack turned and looked at the monstrosity the landlord called a receptionist.

  “Wow, they really do put lipstick on pigs,” Jack muttered, grinning slightly and letting out a breath of genuine laughter rather quietly.

  “Excuse me!” the woman’s face screwed itself up, resembling a pitbull dog, “If you’re here to cause trouble and insult me you can leave immediately. You do realise that the Enforcers are not too far away, so I can get you thrown out of here quite easily.”

  “The Enforcers may not be far away,” smirked Jack, his voice straining constantly, “But believe me, they are far too busy to be bothered with a nobody like me. That said, I do apologise, for, insulting you.”

  “Apology noted. What do you want?” the receptionist snapped, glancing over to a CRT screen on her right and tapping a few keys on a control desk.

  “I believe Eliza lives here,” said Jack, still smiling as though he was in some sort of hypnotised trance, “In fact I know Eliza lives here.”

  “Room six,” said both the woman and Jack at the same time.

  “What is your business here sir?” said the woman, clearly unimpressed and suspicious.

  “Do not assume to understand,” said Jack with a smile, “Because hypothetically, you won’t. In fact, literally, you won’t. You must not underestimate me for I am capable of so much more than what this life can achieve for me. To you, I’ll be speaking nonsensical nonsense, whereas to someone who has been blessed, someone such as myself, I’m speaking the words of God.”

  “Wha-?” the woman looked baffled.

  “I can’t get the inconvenient truth out of my head,” Jack blurted, “I need to see her.”

  There was a pause as the receptionist idly tapped a few buttons on her control desk. Her eyes lifted from the glare of the CRT screen and back onto Jack, where they stayed, starting at him curiously.

  “Mister, you haven’t explained what your business is here,” she said, becoming bored of Jack’s lunatic act.

  “That would be because I am not here to commit an act of business. No, I am here for strictly personal matters only.”

  The woman sighed, “Why didn’t you say that in the first place? As much as I dislike you, there is no need for the bashfulness. Eliza is a lovely girl; you’ve done well to pull her. I do need to see your intercourse card however.”

  Jack let out another uneasy breath of laughter, “Do not assume to understand. I am not here for that kind of personal business. I am assuming that Eliza is inside.”

  The woman checked the CRT screen and tapped a few buttons.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m going in.”

  “Excuse me sir!” the woman called as Jack began to head down the corridor to room six, “You have not explained what you are doing here.”

  “Is it such a crime nowadays to visit a friend? My Eliza has been waiting for my visit for a while now. I wish to see that she receives what is coming to her. And that would be my visit.”

  “But I need to know what you are doing. If you do really visit Eliza often, you should know the questioning procedure when arriving without her presence.”

  “Eating protein bars and watching sleazy daytime casuals,” repLIED Jack.

  “Really?”

  “No. Can I go in now?”

  The woman sighed again, “Go on. Get out of my sight. Any sign of trouble and I’ll get Enforcers on you.”

  “You’ve already played that card,” smirked Jack as he walked away, “And it wasn’t that brilliant the first time round.”

  Jack walked to room six. Ignoring the slot for a magnetic strip card, he knocked on the door.

  “You,” was the reply as the face emerged from the crack of the open door.

  “We need to talk,” Jack said lamely at the door.

  “I don’t want to,” Eliza snapped back and started the close the door. But Jack got has arm in the gap and stopped her.

&
nbsp; “Do not assume to understand,” said Jack, putting on his rather inane smile, “I don’t want that sort of chat. Give me five. That is all I ask. Five.”

  Eliza narrowed her eyes slightly. Jack liked her inquisitive look; it reminded him of when they were together. All he needed, all he desired was to get inside. To see her beautiful body and soul in the full again. The days of being alone without her had almost driven him insane, driven him to destruction. Eliza was his drug and he needed his fix. It’s what made him happy.

  Jack’s mind was dragged back to when she first left him. Oh how he howled with fury. They say the bigger you are, the harder you fall and this was certainly the case for Jack’s ego. In a matter of hours he turned from Mr Proud himself to savage beast, incapable of pronouncing words. He furiously clawed at the wallpaper in his flat shrieking vowels. Jack had been the biggest faller that night.

  “Okay then,” said Eliza, reopening the door, “Five. And this better be good Jack.”

  Fireworks of sheer joy exploded in Jack’s mind, his body tingled with excitement. The same feeling he had before he first had sex with her. Apart from this time he knew that they would be sharing something quite different from sexual intercourse. His mind chuckled at the thought that he wouldn’t even be able to have legal sex with her anyway for his intercourse card lacked points. He’d have to wait a couple of months to collect enough points. Or buy some. But they were extortionate.

  “Let’s hear it then,” Eliza said as she closed the door and stared at Jack. He stared back.

  She was just as beautiful as he remembered. Gorgeous long ginger hair flowing down her sexy face and onto her firm breasts. His eyes continued down, past the hair, lovingly lapping in the sight of her supple waist. Perfection itself was there in front of him. She was the perfect person, the perfect human.

  Lust for her turned into jealousy as it dawned on him that she was no longer his. Zealous vigilance pumped around his body, its energy making his heart pump faster, generating fury. Oh how he hated her. With every second has hatred grew by enormous lengths. Entire planets and solar systems were filled with Jack’s hatred for the… thing… in front of his eyes. Imperfection itself was there in front of him. She was the most imperfect object in the land.

  “Jack-“ she began worriedly, looking at him eye her up. That is as far as she got. With effective force, Jack picked her up by her clothes and threw her onto her bed. She began to scream, but was quickly stopped by a rough hand over her mouth and a switchblade knife in her face.

  “Shut up!” growled Jack, “Or I’ll have you turned into a requiem.”

  Eliza continued to struggle on the bed for a few seconds longer, before deciding that it was getting her nowhere. Now laid back on the bed, her eyes focused fearfully on the knife. Jack could see tears were welling up already. She was shaking, just like he was. But not with excitement, with fear.

  Jack stared into her eyes. They were hazel, now glassy with the tears. The eternal depth of her iris was almost overwhelming. He was here now, why wasn’t he doing something? He had dreamed of this moment for days now, and yet, now he was here, he didn’t want to be. Now he could see, he didn’t want to see anymore.

  What am I here to do again, he thought. Jack gently let go of Eliza and stepped back off the bed.

  Tu tu tu tu tu. Tu tu tu tu tu.

  Eliza sat up, still tearful. She began taking off her clothes.

  “What are you doing?” asked Jack, not quite believing what was happening.

  “This is what you want isn’t it?” she replied, blinking back tears and fighting to take the fear out of her voice, “You can have it. Just don’t hurt me, whatever you do, don’t hurt me.”

  “Are you thick or something!?” burst Jack, pointing the knife at her from a distance, “I don’t want your sex! I don’t want you! I want you dead! I want you out of my life! Out of my mind!”

  Discontinuing her undressing, Eliza slumped. Speechless.

  “Get up! Get up and get dressed you pleb!” ordered Jack. Eliza obeyed.

  “Jack, whatever this is, we can sort it out. Don’t make me have to get the Enforcers,” said Eliza.

  “It’s too damn late for that!” Jack hissed, approaching her with the switchblade knife still pointing at her chest.

  “Clearly it isn’t Jack,” snapped Eliza, “If your heart was really set to this you’d have raped and killed me already. You’re floundering. You’re having doubts. You’re seeing the monster the green eyed monster has made you become.”

  “Do not assume to understand, Eliza the second,” Jack straightened himself up, his face in her face, “You must not underestimate what your departure has done to me. You’re fabulous. You’re beautiful. Even you’re name seems different from everyone else’s. You’re a unique snowflake. It’s a damned shame that everyone else is also a God-damn unique snowflake! You need to die!”

  “You must not underestimate what PP drugs can do to you,” snapped Eliza, “What was it? Bliss? Happy? Ecstasy? Whatever it was it’s screwed with your mind. And since we are on the topic; no, I am not getting back together with you and I am not going to let you kill me either. You’re a sick man Jack. It’s just a damned shame that everyone else is so God-damn sick in this land as well!” she glanced out her window where the masses on the street were still protesting.

  “Shut the hell up!” screamed Jack, grabbing Eliza by the neck and pinning her up against the wall, “I hate you!”

  Eliza struggled to get Jack off her, attempting to make a sound.

  “I hate you!” screamed Jack again; fighting to keep Eliza pinned on the wall. He pointed the knife at her face, “So what about it huh?! Let’s see what the great Eliza can do when I remove something! How about an eye?! I’ll let you choose which, God-damn, one!”

  “You were having doubts about this a minute ago!” yelled Eliza in panic, unintentionally spitting in Jack’s face, “Is this what you want? To murder the person you love? You moron get the hell off me!”

  “What makes you think I love you?” hissed Jack bringing the knife alarmingly close to Eliza’s left eye.

  Eliza shrieked with terror as the blade came painfully close to her eyeball. She attempted to back off in panic, but found her back was already sunk into the wall as far as physically possible. The very tip of the blade made contact with her eyeball and she froze in terror. She stared up at the madman in front of her, pupils making contact, irises contracting. All it would take was another slight movement off Jack and her eyeball would be history. Her eyes began watering, silent tears pouring down her face.

  Nothing could stop him now.

  Thank You For Helping Us Help You Help Us All.

  Johnston climbed out of his pit of despair. That is what he called his bed, as all he seemed to ever do in it was simply despair at the mess his life had gotten into. Stretching his arms up he attempted to stifle a yawn and scanned the grey interior of his flat. Nothing looked remotely appealing or interesting and even when he opened the curtains and let the dying light of the sun pour in, the room still seemed to contain a certain un-healthiness to it. Perhaps it was the resistance of the drab colours against the dying orange light of the sun.

  The clock read that it was six. Johnston sighed, he'd overslept again. He coughed, marbles rattling in his lungs. Still feeling rather groggy, he forced himself into his work clothes, a black shirt and trousers. Whilst buttoning the coarse material onto himself, Johnston stared upon the land from his window. It was a decent view, or at least, would have been if it had not been for the general ugly industrial look of the landscape and the haze of misty rain that had decided to decent onto the buildings above and below.

  Opening the refrigerator, Johnston grabbed a stale, greasy looking sandwich he had left from the day before. He took a bite, his teeth sinking through the rough bread and then down to the gristly meat. It tasted like chicken but had the look and texture of beef. Johnston didn't care, just so long as it filled his stomach. Grabbing his leather coat, Johnston l
eft the flat.

  Seeing that the lift was still out of order, Johnston took the grubby looking stairs, hoping to God that he wasn't mugged by the local youths on the way down. Eating his sandwich, he coughed again and spat out something in-between solid and liquid onto the tiled steps.

  Tree world! See the world as your ancestors saw it!

  That poster always made Johnston chuckle. He was convinced that such a word, 'tree', was just made up. The image on the poster was an aerial shot of what Johnston thought were green explosions. Or maybe explosions later turned green with the use of photo editing.

  Exiting the block and coughing for a third time, Johnston's thoughts turned to tobacco. Or rather, how much he craved it. Checking his jacket's pockets as he walked through the misty drizzle, orange sunlight and large building shadows, he searched for his pack of rolled tobacco.

  Dragging the pack from an inside pocket, he pulled out a stick of rolled tobacco, placed it between his lips and lit it with a flimsy looking metal lighter. Coughing yet again, he inhaled his tobacco, feeling a small sense of relaxation and happiness. Thanks to the hazy rain, his tobacco was starting to get soggy as soon as he exposed it to the land he lived in.

  His thoughts instantly turned to what lay ahead of him, after the short walk. His job. Working at the Deimos facility hadn't been Johnston's favourite place of work. The many regulations to follow, bizarre hours of work, bureaucracy, a small sense that despite being one of the two head regulators he was not in full control and finally, Jacob.

  Jacob was what annoyed Johnston the most. His arrogance was at times, rather unbearable. He was some big-headed nobody who somehow managed to make it to be the second head regulator, a position equal to Johnston's. However, for whatever reason, Jacob insisted on acting like he was above Johnston on the work hierarchy. Furiously, Johnston often clashed and argued with Jacob, often about meaningless topic at the end of the day, but it still wound Johnston up.