Hello escapists.
I've devised a plan to relieve my boredom. My plan includes your cooperation and feedback.
Basically I'll simply begin the story and add bits and pieces to it while you can offer feedback and suggestions. Why does this need you? I need it because I can't judge what I do myself and fail to find any unbiased opinions.
Unfortunately I am compelled to withhold some content from this short story, but I assure you that whatever the escapist doesn't want to have on its forums won't find a proper place in my story.
I'm cautious at the moment, but giving you a synopsis would (in my opinion) cripple your experience.
.
This is it so far. Feedback is appreciated.
Please do not crucify me.
.
As an attempt to make this interesting, I've started a group.
Here it is: http://www.escapistmagazine.com/groups/view/A-story-for-the-community-Cell-Block-B
.
To allow a more comfortable reading experience, here's the whole thing.
I've devised a plan to relieve my boredom. My plan includes your cooperation and feedback.
Basically I'll simply begin the story and add bits and pieces to it while you can offer feedback and suggestions. Why does this need you? I need it because I can't judge what I do myself and fail to find any unbiased opinions.
Unfortunately I am compelled to withhold some content from this short story, but I assure you that whatever the escapist doesn't want to have on its forums won't find a proper place in my story.
I'm cautious at the moment, but giving you a synopsis would (in my opinion) cripple your experience.
.
They put a bag over my head.
They dragged me to a car.
They took everything away from me.
But as I am sitting here in the dark, bag firmly in place, a question pops into my mind. What did I really have?
I was Bernard Whelms. An accountant working for a firm I despised in a job I hated. I was divorced and my kids never did get to see me. Their mother hated me and I hated her. Living in Boston, nothing made my day noteworthy.
I would go on my daily routine, passing through the police checkpoints. They were looking for outlaws, people that don't abide by the UNSC 2563 resolution. Most of the UN member countries agreed to enforce this new law that stripped certain civilians of their rights.
I can hear footsteps coming from behind the door. I can't figure out what they're saying.
The door opened and a beam of light came through the thick bag over my head. "Good Morning" a deep voice announced. "We were amazed when we first saw your data. You are something we've never seen before" another voice came from the entrance, this one was much younger.
"Let me go" I tell my kidnappers. They won't let me live. "It took us several hours, but we managed to devise a solution for your problem" the young, eager voice said. I can hear both of them sitting down on chairs in front of me. "Take this bag off my head, please, I can't breathe" I beg them to take that bag off my head. I can hear the other man chuckle.
I remember reading one of those pamphlets regarding the new law.
We will protect your future and the future of your children. No longer will the abnormal succeed where you failed only because of their unnatural abnormality ? We serve you, the citizen, and we do it with a very simple plan. Every abnormal person would receive a free handicap designed for their unfair advantage so that they could integrate into society and be like every other person. Be just like you.
"John" the man with the deep voice screamed at me, "We couldn't identify you. We know you're not Bernard Whelms, but we couldn't find out your real identity". I didn't sign my name when the law passed, requiring all of the abnormal folk to register. I didn't sign my name because I couldn't remember it anymore.
Genericol Pharmaceuticals, mandated by the UN and supported by more than seventy countries owns holding facilities in Alaska, The Greek Isles in the Aegean Sea, The Falklands in South America and many other facilities designed to contain the growing population of the genetically superior. Law breaking abnormals will be taught that they were born like any other person and that they must wear their handicap at all times. After a brief period of educating the values of our society, they will be integrated back into society as productive adults
Before Bernard I was John Miller. A dock worker, I loved watching football with my friends. I lived in Chicago with a roommate, Dana. I was her boyfriend for a while, but it didn't last long.
The civilians that were stripped of their rights, names and property were strange things. I remember Chris Shmirtz explaining to me why these genetic malfunctions occur. At the time I was his best friend, Ashraf Malik; a skilled electrical engineer and a former immigrant from Turkey.
They dragged me to a car.
They took everything away from me.
But as I am sitting here in the dark, bag firmly in place, a question pops into my mind. What did I really have?
I was Bernard Whelms. An accountant working for a firm I despised in a job I hated. I was divorced and my kids never did get to see me. Their mother hated me and I hated her. Living in Boston, nothing made my day noteworthy.
I would go on my daily routine, passing through the police checkpoints. They were looking for outlaws, people that don't abide by the UNSC 2563 resolution. Most of the UN member countries agreed to enforce this new law that stripped certain civilians of their rights.
I can hear footsteps coming from behind the door. I can't figure out what they're saying.
The door opened and a beam of light came through the thick bag over my head. "Good Morning" a deep voice announced. "We were amazed when we first saw your data. You are something we've never seen before" another voice came from the entrance, this one was much younger.
"Let me go" I tell my kidnappers. They won't let me live. "It took us several hours, but we managed to devise a solution for your problem" the young, eager voice said. I can hear both of them sitting down on chairs in front of me. "Take this bag off my head, please, I can't breathe" I beg them to take that bag off my head. I can hear the other man chuckle.
I remember reading one of those pamphlets regarding the new law.
We will protect your future and the future of your children. No longer will the abnormal succeed where you failed only because of their unnatural abnormality ? We serve you, the citizen, and we do it with a very simple plan. Every abnormal person would receive a free handicap designed for their unfair advantage so that they could integrate into society and be like every other person. Be just like you.
"John" the man with the deep voice screamed at me, "We couldn't identify you. We know you're not Bernard Whelms, but we couldn't find out your real identity". I didn't sign my name when the law passed, requiring all of the abnormal folk to register. I didn't sign my name because I couldn't remember it anymore.
Genericol Pharmaceuticals, mandated by the UN and supported by more than seventy countries owns holding facilities in Alaska, The Greek Isles in the Aegean Sea, The Falklands in South America and many other facilities designed to contain the growing population of the genetically superior. Law breaking abnormals will be taught that they were born like any other person and that they must wear their handicap at all times. After a brief period of educating the values of our society, they will be integrated back into society as productive adults
Before Bernard I was John Miller. A dock worker, I loved watching football with my friends. I lived in Chicago with a roommate, Dana. I was her boyfriend for a while, but it didn't last long.
The civilians that were stripped of their rights, names and property were strange things. I remember Chris Shmirtz explaining to me why these genetic malfunctions occur. At the time I was his best friend, Ashraf Malik; a skilled electrical engineer and a former immigrant from Turkey.
This is it so far. Feedback is appreciated.
Please do not crucify me.
.
As an attempt to make this interesting, I've started a group.
Here it is: http://www.escapistmagazine.com/groups/view/A-story-for-the-community-Cell-Block-B
.
To allow a more comfortable reading experience, here's the whole thing.
Part 1
They put a bag over my head.
They dragged me to a car.
They took everything away from me.
But as I am sitting here in the dark, bag firmly in place, a question pops into my mind. What did I really have?
I was Bernard Whelms. An accountant working for a firm I despised in a job I hated. I was divorced and my kids never did get to see me. Their mother hated me and I hated her. Living in Boston, nothing made my day noteworthy.
I would go on my daily routine, passing through the police checkpoints. They were looking for outlaws, people that don't abide by the UNSC 2563 resolution. Most of the UN member countries agreed to enforce this new law that stripped certain civilians of their rights.
I can hear footsteps coming from behind the door. I can't figure out what they're saying.
The door opened and a beam of light came through the thick bag over my head. "Good Morning" a deep voice announced. "We were amazed when we first saw your data. You are something we've never seen before" another voice came from the entrance, this one was much younger.
"Let me go" I tell my kidnappers. They won't let me live. "It took us several hours, but we managed to devise a solution for your problem" the young, eager voice said. I can hear both of them sitting down on chairs in front of me. "Take this bag off my head, please, I can't breathe" I beg them to take that bag off my head. I can hear the other man chuckle.
I remember reading one of those pamphlets regarding the new law.
We will protect your future and the future of your children. No longer will the abnormal succeed where you failed only because of their unnatural abnormality ? We serve you, the citizen, and we do it with a very simple plan. Every abnormal person would receive a free handicap designed for their unfair advantage so that they could integrate into society and be like every other person. Be just like you.
"John" the man with the deep voice screamed at me, "We couldn't identify you. We know you're not Bernard Whelms, but we couldn't find out your real identity". I didn't sign my name when the law passed, requiring all of the abnormal folk to register. I didn't sign my name because I couldn't remember it anymore.
Genericol Pharmaceuticals, mandated by the UN and supported by more than seventy countries owns holding facilities in Alaska, The Greek Isles in the Aegean Sea, The Falklands in South America and many other facilities designed to contain the growing population of the genetically superior. Law breaking abnormals will be taught that they were born like any other person and that they must wear their handicap at all times. After a brief period of educating the values of our society, they will be integrated back into society as productive adults
Before Bernard I was John Miller. A dock worker, I loved watching football with my friends. I lived in Chicago with a roommate, Dana. I was her boyfriend for a while, but it didn't last long.
The civilians that were stripped of their rights, names and property were strange things. I remember Chris Shmirtz explaining to me why these genetic malfunctions occur. At the time I was his best friend, Ashraf Malik; a skilled electrical engineer and a former immigrant from Turkey.
.
Part 2
We were simply abnormal. They had many names for us; freaks, mutants, monsters. Chris explained it better than any of the ads I saw littering the streets; "Something in their genes just clicked. It's not merely a mutation; it's evolution". People fear progress. People fear Evolution.
"Oi" the man with the deeper voice shouts at me. "We need you to sign this form" The man says. I can hear what appears to be the chair being dragged on the floor. I can hear him coming closer to me. He puts a pen between my fingers and places my hand over something. "I've got nothing you can take from me" I tell my kidnappers.
I don't understand why they need me to sign this form. I have no human rights to waver because I'm not human. "Please, Sir, we need your signature" the other man pleads. I smile at their helplessness. The man sitting in a locked dark room, his head bagged and his hands tied behind his back can actually make a decision for himself. But it was all an illusion. The other man grabbed my hand and moved it over the desk, making me write an 'X'.
"You will not regret this" The younger man says as both of them leave the room.
I regret I ever set foot on this wretched earth
.
Welcome to your home for the next eighteen months. Here you will live; you will learn how to be a productive citizen of your nation ? a true human.
I wake up to the sound of screams.
Someone opens the door to my cell and removes the bag over my head.
I can finally see.
I can hear the announcement change to different languages, all appear to be European. "Stand up, Protean" the man in front of me commands. I follow all of his commands. I notice I'm in some sort of a container and that behind the man there is light coming out from what appears to be the exit.
He throws something at me. I catch what looks like a mask. "Put it on" he tells me. I throw the mask on the ground. "Fine, we will skip the pleasantries" the man says as he reaches his right hand to his hip. He pulls out some sort of a pistol and shoots me.
Everything turns black.
.
Part 3
I can feel the cold floor I'm lying on.
I can hear people talking in foreign languages, and then the speakers emit another announcement.
I look around and find myself near a wall. A sharp pain goes through my right hand. I can see that there is something in the shape of a square underneath my skin.
What have they done with me?
My face.
They took my face.
I move my hands over my face and I find something foreign. It feels like some sort of plastic. It envelops all of my face with holes for my mouth, nose, eyes and ears. I can't smile or laugh, my muscles don't work there. I feel another sharp pain coming from my right hand. I think that the device they put underneath my skin causes it.
"You" I can hear something shout at me. I watch a metal humanoid, as if a man had worn a large medieval armor, walk towards me, and barking orders at me.
It tried to call me by name but hesitated for a moment. "Your kind must be new" he says, "What do we call the ones with masks on them?" the thing began talking to itself.
"It must've refused orders and had to be sedated. I found him lying around the lobby" It continues talking.
I've just realized where I'm at. At the other side of the room I see neat lines of men and women, their heads lowered and spirits broken, each with their own visible disability modifier. They wait in line so that they could face someone beyond a bullet proof glass. All get clothes and some other items I can't spot, and then they walk through the revolving doors.
Stand in line and wait for your turn. You will each be processed and categorized for your comfort. Do not resist the security forces, obey their requests. Refusal to obey such requests might result in a prolonged sentence.
"You're the new Protean; the only one so far. Come on, go to the line and wait for your turn." The human like machine says as it reaches out its hand to help me stand up. I grab its hand and try to regain my composure.
I can hear an electronic sound come from the mechanical thing. Then it suddenly talks with a normal, human voice "You're lucky. Most of us were born with crippling deformities, not gifts" the man says. I can hear that electronic sound again. The man in the machine walks away.
He said I was lucky
.
Part 4
I walk towards the line of abnormals.
I spot a young boy in the crowd. He looks like a young teenager.
I remember I was Alex Jiton. I taught a class of sixteen year old children at a high-school in Detroit. They signed the declaration at the time.
I remember my first briefing after that as a biology teacher. The children would ask questions and I should be prepared.
These mutants are not like you ,the person brought to brief us, a group of teachers from the state of Michigan, said. These deformities are mistakes in the genetic code that must be extinguished , the spokesman continued. Whether he was a scientist or a charismatic fellow, he spat propaganda from him mouth, not facts.
This is the next stage of evolution , Someone from the crowd said. The spokesman didn't react, he continued to talk about how we should address the matter with children. They are people, not animals , The same person said, this time much louder. Lies, Propaganda , He screamed at the hall filled with teachers.
What the hell are you , a man behind bullet proof glass said as he tried to size me up. I reached the head of the line. What does a mask make him , he spoke to a nearby contraption on the wall next to him. Bob, it?s a Protean, a new breed; didn't you hear the new briefing? A voice came from the contraption.
This is Immoral , the man continued to shout. This is Illegal , the man said and then the spokesman responded. It is legal; The UN had passed a resolution and the government agreed to cooperate.
All mutants are no longer human, as they should be , the spokesman said. The teacher stepped out of the crowd and began walking through the aisle towards the stage. This is how Nazi Germany treated the ones they gassed in the beginning , The man tried to rally the people around him.
This is all you need to know about living here , the man behind the bullet-proof glass finished talking. Now Piss off , he told me and pointed at a revolving door. In my hands were three sets of clothes, toiletries, an Identification Card and a White card.
The spokesman continued his speech, ignoring the disorderly teacher. I am Human , The teacher screamed at the spokesman. Nobody can tell me otherwisen , He continued. The spokesman signaled something with his hand and two men following him went off the stage towards the teacher. No need to be alarmed, ladies and gentlemen , the spokesman said as his men walked towards the teacher.
Then something happened. He spat something from his mouth and held it in his hand. The two men ran at the teacher, fearing he might try to hurt the others around him. We are still human, The teacher turned towards the crowd, YOU are the monsters, he said.
He tossed the item he held earlier on the floor, causing a small explosion and a fire. He then spat another round item from his mouth and ran away towards the exit, tossing it behind him and causing another small explosion.
They are the monsters
.
They put a bag over my head.
They dragged me to a car.
They took everything away from me.
But as I am sitting here in the dark, bag firmly in place, a question pops into my mind. What did I really have?
I was Bernard Whelms. An accountant working for a firm I despised in a job I hated. I was divorced and my kids never did get to see me. Their mother hated me and I hated her. Living in Boston, nothing made my day noteworthy.
I would go on my daily routine, passing through the police checkpoints. They were looking for outlaws, people that don't abide by the UNSC 2563 resolution. Most of the UN member countries agreed to enforce this new law that stripped certain civilians of their rights.
I can hear footsteps coming from behind the door. I can't figure out what they're saying.
The door opened and a beam of light came through the thick bag over my head. "Good Morning" a deep voice announced. "We were amazed when we first saw your data. You are something we've never seen before" another voice came from the entrance, this one was much younger.
"Let me go" I tell my kidnappers. They won't let me live. "It took us several hours, but we managed to devise a solution for your problem" the young, eager voice said. I can hear both of them sitting down on chairs in front of me. "Take this bag off my head, please, I can't breathe" I beg them to take that bag off my head. I can hear the other man chuckle.
I remember reading one of those pamphlets regarding the new law.
We will protect your future and the future of your children. No longer will the abnormal succeed where you failed only because of their unnatural abnormality ? We serve you, the citizen, and we do it with a very simple plan. Every abnormal person would receive a free handicap designed for their unfair advantage so that they could integrate into society and be like every other person. Be just like you.
"John" the man with the deep voice screamed at me, "We couldn't identify you. We know you're not Bernard Whelms, but we couldn't find out your real identity". I didn't sign my name when the law passed, requiring all of the abnormal folk to register. I didn't sign my name because I couldn't remember it anymore.
Genericol Pharmaceuticals, mandated by the UN and supported by more than seventy countries owns holding facilities in Alaska, The Greek Isles in the Aegean Sea, The Falklands in South America and many other facilities designed to contain the growing population of the genetically superior. Law breaking abnormals will be taught that they were born like any other person and that they must wear their handicap at all times. After a brief period of educating the values of our society, they will be integrated back into society as productive adults
Before Bernard I was John Miller. A dock worker, I loved watching football with my friends. I lived in Chicago with a roommate, Dana. I was her boyfriend for a while, but it didn't last long.
The civilians that were stripped of their rights, names and property were strange things. I remember Chris Shmirtz explaining to me why these genetic malfunctions occur. At the time I was his best friend, Ashraf Malik; a skilled electrical engineer and a former immigrant from Turkey.
.
Part 2
We were simply abnormal. They had many names for us; freaks, mutants, monsters. Chris explained it better than any of the ads I saw littering the streets; "Something in their genes just clicked. It's not merely a mutation; it's evolution". People fear progress. People fear Evolution.
"Oi" the man with the deeper voice shouts at me. "We need you to sign this form" The man says. I can hear what appears to be the chair being dragged on the floor. I can hear him coming closer to me. He puts a pen between my fingers and places my hand over something. "I've got nothing you can take from me" I tell my kidnappers.
I don't understand why they need me to sign this form. I have no human rights to waver because I'm not human. "Please, Sir, we need your signature" the other man pleads. I smile at their helplessness. The man sitting in a locked dark room, his head bagged and his hands tied behind his back can actually make a decision for himself. But it was all an illusion. The other man grabbed my hand and moved it over the desk, making me write an 'X'.
"You will not regret this" The younger man says as both of them leave the room.
I regret I ever set foot on this wretched earth
.
Welcome to your home for the next eighteen months. Here you will live; you will learn how to be a productive citizen of your nation ? a true human.
I wake up to the sound of screams.
Someone opens the door to my cell and removes the bag over my head.
I can finally see.
I can hear the announcement change to different languages, all appear to be European. "Stand up, Protean" the man in front of me commands. I follow all of his commands. I notice I'm in some sort of a container and that behind the man there is light coming out from what appears to be the exit.
He throws something at me. I catch what looks like a mask. "Put it on" he tells me. I throw the mask on the ground. "Fine, we will skip the pleasantries" the man says as he reaches his right hand to his hip. He pulls out some sort of a pistol and shoots me.
Everything turns black.
.
Part 3
I can feel the cold floor I'm lying on.
I can hear people talking in foreign languages, and then the speakers emit another announcement.
I look around and find myself near a wall. A sharp pain goes through my right hand. I can see that there is something in the shape of a square underneath my skin.
What have they done with me?
My face.
They took my face.
I move my hands over my face and I find something foreign. It feels like some sort of plastic. It envelops all of my face with holes for my mouth, nose, eyes and ears. I can't smile or laugh, my muscles don't work there. I feel another sharp pain coming from my right hand. I think that the device they put underneath my skin causes it.
"You" I can hear something shout at me. I watch a metal humanoid, as if a man had worn a large medieval armor, walk towards me, and barking orders at me.
It tried to call me by name but hesitated for a moment. "Your kind must be new" he says, "What do we call the ones with masks on them?" the thing began talking to itself.
"It must've refused orders and had to be sedated. I found him lying around the lobby" It continues talking.
I've just realized where I'm at. At the other side of the room I see neat lines of men and women, their heads lowered and spirits broken, each with their own visible disability modifier. They wait in line so that they could face someone beyond a bullet proof glass. All get clothes and some other items I can't spot, and then they walk through the revolving doors.
Stand in line and wait for your turn. You will each be processed and categorized for your comfort. Do not resist the security forces, obey their requests. Refusal to obey such requests might result in a prolonged sentence.
"You're the new Protean; the only one so far. Come on, go to the line and wait for your turn." The human like machine says as it reaches out its hand to help me stand up. I grab its hand and try to regain my composure.
I can hear an electronic sound come from the mechanical thing. Then it suddenly talks with a normal, human voice "You're lucky. Most of us were born with crippling deformities, not gifts" the man says. I can hear that electronic sound again. The man in the machine walks away.
He said I was lucky
.
Part 4
I walk towards the line of abnormals.
I spot a young boy in the crowd. He looks like a young teenager.
I remember I was Alex Jiton. I taught a class of sixteen year old children at a high-school in Detroit. They signed the declaration at the time.
I remember my first briefing after that as a biology teacher. The children would ask questions and I should be prepared.
These mutants are not like you ,the person brought to brief us, a group of teachers from the state of Michigan, said. These deformities are mistakes in the genetic code that must be extinguished , the spokesman continued. Whether he was a scientist or a charismatic fellow, he spat propaganda from him mouth, not facts.
This is the next stage of evolution , Someone from the crowd said. The spokesman didn't react, he continued to talk about how we should address the matter with children. They are people, not animals , The same person said, this time much louder. Lies, Propaganda , He screamed at the hall filled with teachers.
What the hell are you , a man behind bullet proof glass said as he tried to size me up. I reached the head of the line. What does a mask make him , he spoke to a nearby contraption on the wall next to him. Bob, it?s a Protean, a new breed; didn't you hear the new briefing? A voice came from the contraption.
This is Immoral , the man continued to shout. This is Illegal , the man said and then the spokesman responded. It is legal; The UN had passed a resolution and the government agreed to cooperate.
All mutants are no longer human, as they should be , the spokesman said. The teacher stepped out of the crowd and began walking through the aisle towards the stage. This is how Nazi Germany treated the ones they gassed in the beginning , The man tried to rally the people around him.
This is all you need to know about living here , the man behind the bullet-proof glass finished talking. Now Piss off , he told me and pointed at a revolving door. In my hands were three sets of clothes, toiletries, an Identification Card and a White card.
The spokesman continued his speech, ignoring the disorderly teacher. I am Human , The teacher screamed at the spokesman. Nobody can tell me otherwisen , He continued. The spokesman signaled something with his hand and two men following him went off the stage towards the teacher. No need to be alarmed, ladies and gentlemen , the spokesman said as his men walked towards the teacher.
Then something happened. He spat something from his mouth and held it in his hand. The two men ran at the teacher, fearing he might try to hurt the others around him. We are still human, The teacher turned towards the crowd, YOU are the monsters, he said.
He tossed the item he held earlier on the floor, causing a small explosion and a fire. He then spat another round item from his mouth and ran away towards the exit, tossing it behind him and causing another small explosion.
They are the monsters
.
