Origins Unknown

by M K Hussain

  The door creaks open as Neil enters. As he does, he trips across a wire, his body falling to the ground. Neil, annoyed with himself, can hear the sounds of machines clicking and whirring as he looks around the warehouse, getting up slowly on to his feet.

  Suddenly, gunfire sprays out in his direction from an automatic weapon hidden on the furthest wall from him. Neil darts from side to side, using his speed and reflexes to outmanoeuvre this metal fiend. He gets to the gun and kicks it hard, separating the weapon from the tripod in the wall holding it in place. Neil touches the gun lying on the ground.

  It’s as if it was firing at me, it followed my movements precisely. How is that possible? Is someone operating it remotely?

  The clicking sound starts up again now in several capacities. Machine guns as well as cannons fire all at once at Neil. He stands frozen for a split second, thinking how to disable them all before moving at great speed, firing his arrows in rapid succession at all the contraptions that are unloading on him. He scans for cover before finding some behind a metal door. As he hides behind it, he notices one of the contraptions in the floor throws a grenade at him. Neil catches it and hurls it at the biggest machine gun firing at him from the ceiling, then ducks behind the door.

  BOOM!

  Neil looks up, arrow at the ready as he steps out from behind the door cautiously. No sound. He can just about make out where his fired arrows have impaled several machine guns and cannons, jamming or locking their firing mechanisms thereby rendering them inert. The grenade that exploded moments ago has enveloped the room with a great billow of smoke, making it impossible for Neil to see through it properly.

  If I can’t see through this smoke, then maybe they can’t see me. What if they think I’m dead?

  Neil sees several cameras dotted about the room. He hears creaking sounds from above. Quickly and quietly, and using the smoke to his advantage, he ascends up some stairs, gently edging up the side of the adjoining wall, ready for his next surprise.

  As he climbs up and his foot touches the top step, razor-sharp red lasers strike at him, cutting his path short. Fortunately for him, he jumps out of the way of the lasers at the last second. He ducks under them and quickly looks around the room for a way to make all of this stop.

  He notices a control box attached to the wall on his right. Grabbing one of the darts from his belt, he throws it in the direction of a laser cutting through the air at him next to the wall. The laser bounces off the dart and slices through the control box, stopping all the other lasers immediately.

  Neil stands upright, taking long, deep breaths through his nose. He hears a clapping sound from a shadow lurking in the distance. A woman sits in a wheelchair in front of a small control panel filled with strange buttons and screens.

  “Eat this, punk!” she screams as she fires two flamethrowers attached to either side of the wheelchair at Neil. As the fire almost encompasses him, he jumps out of reach and throws the bolts from his belt towards the weapons. The bolts fly into the flamethrowers, causing a huge flash of fire to erupt backwards.

  The woman hurls herself forwards a distance from the wheelchair and lands prone on the floor. Neil approaches her, unsure what to do, but as he does, she trips him up with her hands and he falls on top of her. Neil reaches for a single arrowhead, which he dangles above her left eye. Thinking himself to be the victor of this scuffle, he relaxes slightly.

  “Look down, genius,” she says. The woman has similarly placed a dagger horizontally at the cusp of his throat. “I guess great minds think alike, don’t you think so? I’m Sarah. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance…”

  11

  BONDED

  In an undisclosed, underground location, Brutus ponders.

  I have only three days. How can I get access to the Gems quickly and efficiently before anyone else? Think!

  “Do you have any commands for me, Master?”

  “Quiet, I’m thinking!”

  This idiot’s breaking my line of thought.

  Brutus places his left hand on his forehead, giving it a gentle massage.

  I can’t do this by myself; it will be like finding a needle in a haystack.

  “I’m just saying, Master, a problem shared is a problem halved.”

  “I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO…”

  Brutus leaps forward to strike at George, who is now crouching on the ground with his hands in the air for protection. George lets out a little yelp as Brutus moves to hit him. Suddenly, Brutus stops mid-leap as George’s words hit home.

  The little idiot’s right – I don’t need to do it myself and this little runt can only do so much.

  Brutus kneels down to George’s level.

  “Behind your ugly exterior, you do seem to have what appears to be the beginning of a brain.”

  With his prison outfit creased and messy, blond wavy hair all out of place and his pale face all scrunched up in fear, George opens his eyes, as it was the fear of his Master’s wallop that caused him to close them in the first place. He smiles a wide smile showcasing his yellow, crooked teeth, as Brutus pats him hard on the shoulder.

  “Thank you, Master! But… what do you mean?”

  “What I mean is…” Brutus admires the strange device attached to his left wrist, which he noticed on the way to their present location.

  “… THIS could be our salvation.”

  He starts tampering with it until a door seemingly appears in the roof above him. Brutus and George use a ladder to climb through to a very large, urban city. The place is full of people with red markings on them – some people with red hair, some with red clothing, red tattoos – basically every individual has something red on their person or about them.

  Brutus approaches a number of prisoners in a small hut, desperately trying to hide from any surrounding guards. Brutus outstretches one of his hands, which brings everyone together into a trance.

  “Spread the word, your Master is here. Tell everyone to gather. An important task is to be completed.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Brutus uses his CUT device to open multiple doors through which lie exciting, wonderful and new destinations. The entranced prisoners each take a different door, in the hope of spreading Brutus’s words like a virus.

  I’ll have those Gems sooner than I expect.

  ***

  Brutus flexes the proverbial muscles of his new-found powers even further by controlling all manner of communication, from oral to electronic to written word, hypnotising the planet bit by bit.

  True to his word, Brutus’s hypnotism continues spreading, a plague of madness descending upon millions of prisoners. This causes them to stop in their tracks, to re-focus their own plans for survival and change their own inner nature from panicking to becoming zombie-like.

  All the hypnotised prisoners silently follow one another until a huge congregation gathers and marches as one. They use their CUT devices to speed up their movements until they stop at a huge castle.

  Brutus, slightly weakened by using too much of his power at once, stands propped up against the edge of the topmost balcony wall, dressed in a long, silky, golden gown. He wears a flowing silver cape and has a very intricately patterned, strong, silvery wooden cane in his right hand. Sitting atop his head is a heavy crown, similar to that of a king’s, adorned and made with glittery, transparent, shining crystals.

  While his words are continually spreading like poison, he is able to use the powers of his hypnotised prisoners to protect himself. In addition, he can use the prisoners as he wishes, keeping the Commander’s forces away from him as best they can, even if it means they lay down their lives for him.

  Brutus looks around as George kneels on the ground at his feet, ever ready to serve his Master at a moment’s notice.

  Brutus raises his arms to quieten the people, as the crowd have begun chanting “Master! Master! Master!” loudly.

  I don’t know how powerful I think I am but George hasn’t broken out of it yet… and neither will the
y.

  “My fellow prisoners, hear my words. For each of you today that stands before me is a victor. A victor of your circumstances. Believe me for I am your leader, your king if you will. Today, you will each make a choice. Stand by me and you will be saved, or perish if you are against me. I have a plan to save us all for I will be the one that will go through Preb, for which we all seek.

  “Find me the Gems, scour this wretched land and find me the location of the Door. I promise you I will find a way to save us all, send us all through Preb. When I go through, or if I go through it alone, I will bring back reinforcements to fight off the evil Commander and bring about change. I will rid us of this virus that will destroy us once the three days are up. I will protect us from any other dangers that come our way. That is all I wish. Do you all seek redemption?”

  “YES, MASTER!”

  “Protection?”

  “YES, MASTER!”

  “SURVIVAL?”

  “YES, MASTER!”

  Brutus raises his cane in the air.

  “Then go forth and conquer your fears!”

  The crowd cheers.

  “Slay all that oppose you, oppose them for me, for I am your MASTER!”

  The crowd gives a final cheer then disbands as Brutus gleams a wicked smile, walking into the castle with George hot on his heels, pleased and thinking about his next step…

  12

  HUNTED

  Number 1 stands calmly behind his pilot, Number 5, in a state-of-the-art silver aircraft. On the radar in front of him are many lights pinpointing several locations of recent high activity. Fighting, damage to property, injuries to the indigenous Red population; all of which report to the same link that is causing them all – prisoners. Number 1 thinks back to the mantra that he was taught when he was studying prisoners at the academy.

  Find the prisoners; eliminate the activity but act using the elements of quick thinking and accuracy upon engaging with them.

  His team make several stops using this system, with Number 1 shouting orders at them more frequently at each stop.

  “Destroy high-risk assailants, gather the rest for imprisonment!”

  During rounds of prisoner searching, he and his team also make several pit stops to the prison. Upon unloading freshly caught prisoners, Number 1 instructs Numbers 12 through to 20 to interrogate the low-risk assailants for information on the whereabouts of the high-risk assailants using means of torture or near-death.

  It’s not enough. We are doing well but it’s not efficient enough yet. Where’s the help the Commander promised me?

  Number 1 hesitantly contacts the Commander.

  “Commander, receiving.”

  “I can hear you loud and clear, Number 1. As I said to you before, help is on its way. I am sending you the Killer Ts,” the Commander replies through the intercom system built into each soldier’s uniform. “But it’s your job to be the welcome party and hand out the mission protocols. Engage activation. Over and out.”

  Number 1 gulps as he brings up what he knows about the Killer Ts on his personal arm-based computer. It reads:

  The Killer Ts stands for the Killer Team under the instruction of their frighteningly silent leader known only as Dactyl. He is not one to be easy around. He and his team are an undisciplined clan of highly-trained ninja warriors who use specialised interception and destroy methods via the art of stealth and skill alone, unless the Commander states otherwise.

  Dactyl and his team are as ruthless in their job as they are extremely dangerous. Their one rule is that if the leader is struck down dead, the most worthy in the clan (or on rare occasions, outside of the clan) would become the next Dactyl. The ninjas themselves were once ordinary guards but due to the Commander’s obsession with preparation and development in case the worst was to happen, he appointed this team to be genetically engineered so that they are dedicated to specifically tackling escalating situations on Raeth.

  Number 1 switches off the information part of his personal computer and slumps into his chair.

  The Commander believes the prisoners are foreign entities in this land and that much can be learnt by studying them, preserving them without causing limited damage to the environment or its residents. The Princess and the Council have tarnished this principle in his mind by enabling said damage to occur by releasing these animalistic prisoners into the wild, all for what… the pursuit of some ‘game’?

  Number 1 shudders as the aircraft descends at yet another location, this one subdued in shadows and seemingly cut off from the rest of Raeth. Another aircraft is already parked there. Number 1 tells Number 5 to descend the aircraft and ascend the new aircraft to greet the Killer Team.

  The Killer Ts stand ready to receive his message, wearing traditional ninja garb: black clad all over with a slit showing their chalk-white skin underneath and around their crystal, luminescent, dark-blue eyes. Through genetic manipulation, their eyes and bodies have been altered slightly to optimise their vision in the darkness as well as their speed and stealth.

  Number 1 walks calmly past the Killer Ts to the rear of the ship towards a sarcophagus. He presses a button on the chest of the sarcophagus which hisses, releasing steam and gradually unlatches, the sound of unwinding cogs causing it to open eerily. The defensive and attack mechanisms inbuilt in the sarcophagus scan Number 1 for identifying purposes throughout this process to ensure the correct level of authority is used to carry out such a task.

  Number 1 takes a few steps back. Dactyl awakens, steam surrounding him. Using the light from the rear of the aircraft, Number 1 is able to make out that Dactyl is covered in a sophisticated black graphite and Kevlar combat suit, apart from his head, which is shrouded in darkness. Suddenly, his crystal-blue eyes open within the darkness and as soon as they do, a black mask begins to assemble around his head; the shape being the face of a pterodactyl, one of the most fearsome predators that ever lived. The eyes of the mask are ruby red and are arranged across the mask in a ‘V’ shape.

  Dactyl’s combat-suited fingers extend to produce razor-sharp claws and he stands to pick up his current single, solitary weapon which is sheathed at his side – a sleek, silver, black-handled and yet plain-looking samurai sword.

  Number 1 gulps again.

  “Rise, Dactyl. We’ve got work to do…”

  ***

  The Commander sits in his chair within the command centre of his prison, attempting to understand events which are unfolding before his very eyes on the screens in front of him. To his left, Number 9 works frantically on the control console, doing his job to the best of his abilities, part of which involves looking out and responding to distress calls coming in from the guards and the Reds.

  “Number 9, zoom in on Screen 37.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  The screen expands across the monitor until…

  “Stop.”

  The Commander watches Brutus and his followers and checks up on the havoc they have wreaked during the early part of the day. An idea begins hatching in his mind as he takes control of the console from Number 9 from his chair, to zoom in closer to Brutus’s face. He pauses the image on Brutus. The Commander stands and walks over to the monitor.

  “Number 9, I want regular updates from all parties in regards to the whereabouts of Max and his cohorts. In addition, keep me informed about Dactyl and Number 1’s status in Operation Clean Sweep.”

  “Yes, Commander, very well.”

  Touching the face now on the screen, the Commander relays yet another order to Number 9 before he leaves the room hastily.

  “… Oh, and get me all the information you can find on this so-called deceiver of the masses…”

  ***

  Two prisoners make their way towards the Torf Noxx bank and O2 reserve. They enter and one of them begins using his gun to fire wildly into the air. The Red customers and staff run out of the bank as the two prisoners face the vaults.

  Suddenly, they turn their attention to a spot in the centre of the bank; in the ma
rble floor. They remove the chair and desks with force and one of them uses his powers to break open the floor to reveal the hidden grave of one of the most notorious Reds on Raeth: the bounty hunter.

  On his grave are written the words: ‘May the prisoners get what they deserve and not what lies within… ever’.

  They break open the coffin and grab hold of a box hidden inside with the body, the box itself clutched firmly by the body’s fingers. They yank it away before realising that the bank is now surrounded by many of the Commander’s guards.

  They exit the bank as the guards prepare to fire their weapons upon them. Out of the blue, one of them uses his powers to begin shaking the ground and buildings around them. Many Reds run about trying to protect their loved ones, neighbours and friends, hoping to get out of the way of danger as soon as possible.

  Then suddenly, the second prisoner raises a flat hand in the air slowly before bringing it to the ground in the same way. A sudden surge of power leaps forward in the form of a shockwave, as the guards and Reds in the area lose their footing on the ground and start to rise into the kys slowly, their sense of gravity taken away from them by the second prisoner. They continue rising into the atmosphere until they are seen no more.

  The prisoners look at each other before the second prisoner looks to the box in his hand.

  “The Master will be most pleased with us…”

  13

  COMPROMISE

  “… And I have been holed up here ever since,” explains Sarah. “Yep, surrounded by junk. Living the dream.”

  Neil exhibits a puzzled expression on his face.

  Since both of them had backed off one another in a temporary ceasefire of sorts, they were using the time while tidying up the place to get to know each other better. Sarah had been regaling Neil with her backstory of how she had somehow (‘miraculously’ was the word she had used) escaped the prison. During the escape, she had come into contact with many guards who obviously wanted her captured or dead, and all kinds of prisoners who wanted to kill her for some reason.