Sunday, December 25, 2016

Bootleg


            Time stood still as the sun peaked across the sky. A cluster of stars twinkled in a song beyond the horizon. Peace reigned throughout the cosmos, evolving into a colony of nations. Together, expanding among the universe. Reaching the farthest of galaxies, traveling to the impossible and creating a reality to believe in. From a single man who brought us to the light. Who freed us from our psychological imprisonment, levitated our consciousness to the outer limits. “We are more than just reality.”
            Day turned to night in a vast park surrounded by tall metal domes. People packed their things then disappeared to their homes. Birds flew in and out of trees as they settled for the night. More stars appeared in the sky, brighter than before. “You have big dreams,” laughed a man near the growing shadows. “You got everything you need. What more could you possibly be missing?” He shook his head lightly, questioning the young philosopher who sat beside him.
            “There’s more to reality than what we can perceive.” The young man continued as he collected his thoughts. He pointed out the science behind his existence, the meaning of the tree that stood next to them. The family eating by the bench feet away, the creatures that routinely move on their own, to the distance beyond his awareness. “Do you know why we keep finding distance stars? Why the universe never seems to have a end?” The elder man waited for his answer. “Because we live in an infinite plane.”
            “A three dimensional virtual eternity where nothing lives forever.” The young philosopher trailed back to the sky. “We are raised into a system that binds us to be obedient and kind. To mind your manners and care for our neighbor. If you fall from the system, the system rites you back in. We are told we are at peace. We are told other worlds come in peace. What is famine? What is poverty? What are diseases? No one care to think because that doesn’t exist, they are just a name.”
            Blue was the moon, crescent and present as ever. The pulsing stars jeweled its light. Silence whispered in a subtle tune. “There’s a world out there.” He continued. His face, towards the sky, blew up from the light reflecting in his eyes. “A world beyond this reality. People talk about them. Some have gone there.” The elder man rolled his eyes. “There are plenty of chatroom's immersed by the same awareness craving to be free. Sites devoted to waking up the masses, save us from reality.”
            “And just where exactly is it that you yearn to escape to?” The elder man questioned.
            “They call it Zion.” His young friend answered.
            “Why would you leave?” The elder man leaned forward, curious as to what his reason may be. “Do you have an idea worth investing in? People can crowd fund your dreams. Got a show in mind? They’ll sign petitions to get your show started. They, ultimately, are the ones investing in people’s films, inventions. Need a place to stay? The world is full of remote locations you can call home, anywhere; in any galaxy. War is just a noun, illness has a cure. The sky welcomes all its wonders and still you find a fictional city more real than the one staring you in the face.” He repeated the thought in his head. “Are you sure about this, Atom?”
            “They say it’s an adjustment.” Atom recalled. “Yes.”
            “It use to be.” His elder accomplice proclaimed. “Now, it’s a smooth ride. Your body is there but your sub conscience is here. It’s an obstacle illusion, but you see right through it. There are no drowsiness or headaches, just a jolt to the real world. You’ll be awake before you know it.” Atom turned to him with questions in his eyes. “So they say.” He took his hands and buried them deep into his trench coat. He steadied his fist before Atom, “We all are given a choice to make. A choice one is asked when presented the opportunity to awaken from the dream they have created.”
            Atom observed, connected every dot, while time froze behind him. “In one hand you get what you want. The other will bring you luck, with no hidden fee, for the rest of your life. Know once you’ve made a decision, the actions of which will occur beyond this place and time will not last. You may be recycled or be laid to rest. Energy is never destroyed, only created. Which ever road you decide to take from here on out will be of your own will, mind and soul. Only glory awaits you.” Atom paused before taking what he wanted. His reality would soon gained a different perspective.
            Atom dove deeper into the rabbit hole. Codes and wormholes, symbols and blinding lights. Everything consumed Atom as Atom consumed everything. Simultaneously, his body fell numb as his mind disconnected. Heavenly in a vacuum of serene weightlessness, Atom woke up. He felt a tug pulling him out from the abyss. A sudden heaviness made the room close in on itself. Atom was ascending while falling to light. A voice called to him. Light broke from the shadows, Atom opened his eyes and found himself half naked on an iron bed.
            Monitors traced his heartbeat, wire tubes fed him nutrients. Atom laid for a moment as he realized he was up. “Welcome home.” The same man from before approached Atom. “Though your mind is active, the muscles in your body have never been used before.” He instructed, “You’ll gain your strength in a minute. Give it time.” He checked his monitor. “Your body’s catching up to your mind. You’ll be walking shortly.”
            As the room settled, two men approached their positions. Atom held a blanket to his waist as he sat. He looked around before noticing the inserters implanted on his arms, legs, chest and behind his head. Those were the adjustments he kept hearing about. He marveled at its design, ingenuity. “Put this on.” The pilot tossed a suit to Atom. “Keeps you warmer,” he added. “Serling, I’m the pilot.” He introduced himself. “Welcome on board to the Millennial!”
            They shook hands before the engineer introduced himself. “Ghost,” Atom extended a greeting. “You already know Bos.” The man whom Atom spoke to back in his virtual dream, stood flesh and bone, tall and real. “Every person saved brings the Millennial that much glory. She’s a born lifesaver. You’re our last for today but there’s plenty more out in the fields.” Atom dressed himself while the crew introduced themselves. “Great to have you on board!”
            “You may feel minor uncertainties but they will fade,” Bos began. “You’ll find that Zion has grown over the years.” Past the corridors, across the hallways. Bos guided Atom to the control station where Serling steered the Millennial on route to Headquarters. Atom stood behind Serling as they flew across the city. Towers of all shapes and sizes, color and texture, trailed below. “We no longer reside in caves buried on earth but the caves buried by the cosmos. We hide only what the dark conceals, never from machines.”
            Ghost entered the station and sat behind Bos. Atom fell silent as he bathed in a new stream of consciousness. Names he has never known, legacies he could not forget. One name repeated throughout the time Bos lectured Atom of the brief history he’ll soon inherit. The name they chant in praise. The martyr statue across the galaxy, the man who brought them awareness, the light that freed them from reality. His name alone keeps the world spinning.
            “After the war,” Bos concluded, “Machine and man work together. We inhabit the farthest planets, established monuments throughout the stars. Man reigns upon the universe with all of its machines. The only thing we fear is the distance between one inhabitable planet to the other, nothing more. With the machines help, we’ve been saving more than a million lives each day. They make finding those who seek to be free easier. And they do much more.”
            “Take your suit for example.” Ghost added, “They are made with smart thread material. With built in GPS tracking signals that automatically sends a distress call, if you ever find yourself stuck in space that is. In said emergency, the boots will track the nearest inhabitable planet and safely land you to the embassy. Your suit will keep you warm, it's radiation resistant, it also supplys you with recycled oxygen. Not like you’ll be fighting anyone in it.”
            “Registrations will train you the minute you enter.” Serling continued. “We train so we are prepared. Just because there are no wars, doesn’t mean we can’t keep fit by practicing the arts. Center your core to better others. We shouldn’t be far now.” Beams of light trailed behind as the Millennial soared through space. Light after another, cities grew into new ones. The same cluster of capitals turned into different active towns.
Before them spun a world evolved beyond its years. Rockets big and small came soaring throughout the atmosphere. Heading into the beyond or cruising down to its moon. The closer they approached the clearer things became. Men in jet-packs flew above skyscrapers, cars all the same. The Millennial slowly ascended down below. Jet-packs and jet fuel screamed in the sky as they drew in the air. Teleporters took people to their destinations. Bionic gear connected the people of Zion the vast multiverse. The air smelled clean, the sun felt warm but the sky lit the same. Atom felt at home.
Bos took his crew down to Registrations for Atom’s clean slate. “Here, you’ll be trained to move like you would have moved had you been plugged in.” Ghost instructed as Atom passed a group of trained new comers. “Did you catch the red light behind his head?” Ghost pointed. “We go wireless into the matrix now, no more cords. Any bootleg hacker can build you one.” He laughed, “Simple mechanics.” Atom paused as a group of new comers test run their skills.
Atom took notes, entranced and willing. Red lights illuminated from behind their heads as they flipped, jumped and somersaulted their way across the pavilion. The agility they succumbed within seconds. The heights they reached with a mere lift of a muscle. As new information seeped into their stream of knowing, their eyes opened. They took their positions then proceeded in action. Others eagerly anticipated their turn.
“Here is where I leave you kid.” They stood feet away from the Registrations office. “Head inside and they’ll tell you where to go. If you ever decide to join the Ark, look us up. We’re always open for new members.” Ghost and Serling gave their goodbyes then headed back to the ship. “You made a wise choice. Waking up to the real world. There is plenty of unknown for you to find now that you are here. The universe is out there, we are out there.”
The Millennial and its crew left to tend the fields. Atom watched as the ship hovered away. Into the distance, the Millennial disappeared in search of more souls to free. Atom paused before proceeding to head inside. He stared at the sky and felt a resounding familiarity to its pulsing lights. Its moon, twice as big. Its people more self aware. Some born full fleshed, others with special abilities. An easiness helped Atom reach the front doors. He entered and was shown the way to his new home. His new life began just as promised.
Back in a virtual reality where life is but a dream, more eager souls seek the unknown and the wonders yet to be behold. Back in a city rich and prosperous, drunk in light and justice. Deep in the cities that never age, doves hop around plucking the crumbs off the floor. An old happy woman fed the doves while the birds sang. Children innocently pranced around the playground, laughing. The elderly woman crumbled bread into her palm then gently tossed them to the doves. “Took you long enough.” She began as an elderly man approached her in the park.
He sat beside her, knowing she knew why he was there. She continued feeding the doves while embracing the city that stood in front of them. Colors illuminated the changing sky. Laughter echoed throughout the corners of the coming night. “Beautiful sight.” He began. “It’s become too big to fail now.” She smirked. “Honestly woman, how long did you foresee this peace to last?”
“So long as people fight to keep it alive.” The elderly woman replied. “I know that you know, you said it yourself in this very spot. We may have looked different but the message was all the same. He will always find a way to make his return. He’s done it before, let’s not forget.” She paused to admire the night. “As much as he or they or anyone try to upset the balance, tip the scale, watch the world burn. There will always be a counterpart to correct the mistake, they may not always be who you would expect, but they are there because you are there and I am here.”
“Once He, they, come to realize no matter how much they try to corrupt the world, control each and every creature, there will always be a counterpart to complete the equation. It is how the universe was design to be. So, until they learn that no matter how tight sealed their plan to control the world is, there will always be a flaw. That flaw is the opposite of what they plan to achieve. Nothing changes only the faces, as you and I can tell.”
“Then you’re aware that the virus is on its way?”
“It’ll come and go like a trending fad.” She answered confidently. “The people affected may have no hope but they will have a savior.” She tossed more bread crumbs into the floor. More birds wobbled around as they cleaned the ground.
“And who’s going to be there for them now,” the old man questioned. “Who will lead them to the light now that He’s gone? Who will be their savior?”
Far into the towers, a castle sheltered half of the residence occupying the city. Delivery spotters paced through the halls. Active joggers made their runs. Members of a thriving society came and went as they pleased. Guards patrolled the streets, kids played by the playground. There was something happening in every corner. The elevator slid open to the seventh floor. One single scrawny civilian made his way to his apartment. To his surprise a package stood by his door. “Yes!” He hissed as he took his gift inside.
He hung his keys, locked his door then made his way to his office. He slid his door shut then armed himself for the deep web. A small USB drive he purchased off the internet lay wrapped in a package within a package. His new gizmo promised faster reception, an untraceable line and access to every backdoor known and unknown lurking in the deep internet. He started his computer then inserted the USB drive. As promised, he was given access to a door never opened before.
“Wow!” His screen cracked as it began to melt, warp into a silver liquid. The silver goo engulfed his computer screen. The cracks liquefied into a mirror that reflected an upside down world. The kid reached for its silver oceans rumbling on his screen. “What science is this?” The silver ran down his fingertip, up to his wrist then swallowing his arm whole. “Help!” He shouted but only distortion creaked as the silver consumed his entire mass.
His spasms lasted for a second. He stood as the silver morphed into a man. A man in a black suit with dark shades soon took the scrawny millennial's place. He looked around then laughed. He laughed as loud as he pleased for he had returned. He, the agent who was freed from the system. He, who was given his own line; his own vein to the matrix. He was back, back in virtual reality to finish what he sought to end long ago. The agent of order and chaos was back to claim his throne.

Monday, October 31, 2016

Screams


            Ring, echoed the foyer, Ring Ring. The caller ID read, “Unknown.”
            “Neo Alpha Rah, Phin speaking,” answered the only person in the house after he debated whether he should have answered. “Hello?” Phin called again but no one replied. He placed the phone back on the wall and dismissed the call as a prank. He figured other fraternities were drunk, stone or bored. Phin made his way back to the couch when suddenly the phone rang once again. He stood between the living room and the foyer, questioning whether he should answer the call. Phin let the phone ring, his team made a goal while he was away and he wasn’t about to miss another. Ring Ring.
            Deserted was the home of the famous Neo brotherhood of Rah, the athletes on campus. The designated sober driver waited for his brothers to notify him of his assistance. Alone, not by choice, Phin remained in the den. The flat screen screamed in cheers as two teams battled for the championship. Red cups and glass bowls filled with chips scattered across the coffee table, crumbs lay where they fell. Sports magazines and automobile subscriptions lay open, half read. The sport announcer raced as he implored another goal. “No!” Screamed Phin as his team missed a chance to intercept. Ring Ring, the house phone rang again. Phin checked the caller ID, “Unknown.”
            “Hello?”
            “Hello Phin.” Came a low, unusual voice on the other end. “Want to die tonight?”
            “Do I know you?” Phin asked, puzzled but not shaken.
            “Maybe, want to find out?” The caller replied.
            “Fuck off.” Phin ended the call abruptly. He sat back on the couch, cursing in his head. Whoever it was wanted a reaction out of Phin but he doesn’t scare as easily. “No!” Phin shouted again. His team was losing, missing all the chances to turn their luck around. He threw chips at the screen as the opposing team inched their way to the win. Time was running out, “Come on!” Phin yelled, “He was open.” As the announcer stated an interception, the house phone rang. Once more the caller ID read, “Unknown.”
            “-The fuck you want?” Phin answered, impatiently.
            “Hey man,” answered one of his fraternity brothers, “I’m calling from a land line. Listen, we got a ride. We’ll be there shortly. Neoz out!” Relieved, Phin hung up the phone and made his way back to the couch. He raised the volume on the screen and took a hand full of chips into his mouth. The crowd roared as they watched two giants go head to head. Three runners slammed into each other; passing, blocking, intercepting. Slowly the opposing team fought their way to the win. Phin threw chips at the screen as his team missed an interception.
            One more goal, Phin’s team needed one more point to steal the game. “Get that money!” Phin encouraged, shouting at the screen; drunk in testosterone. His mobile phone vibrated on the coffee table. Phin ignored the call but regretted it later. The sport announcer got lost from the constant ringer ringing in his ear. “Damn!” Phin cursed underneath his breath as he stood to answer the phone. The caller ID read, “Unknown.” Phin answered, glued to the game. “Hello?” Phin repeated, slowly loosing his patience. Just as he was about to hang up the phone the same person from before replied on the other end.
            “What’s your favorite scary movie?”
            “Listen bro,” Phin began, “Go bother someone else.” He paused, “How did you get this number?”
            “I have my ways.” The caller replied. “Besides, who else am I to bother? You’re the only one home.”
            “You sure about that?” Phin answered, confused. How would the caller know that?
            “Want to play a game?”
            “Not interested dog.” Phin closed.
            “But if you hang up, how will you know where I am?” The caller caught his attention.
            “Yeah?” Phin turned to the front door. “I have a good guess.” Phin opened the door and expected to find his brothers, but the porch was empty. Phin stepped outside and looked around. The other fraternities across the street were quiet, the streets isolated. Phin checked the side of the house and found nothing, no one lingered around. No one crept out from where they hid to spook the life out of Phin.
            “Not there.” The caller said moments later as Phin checked the other side. He stood for a moment, brainstorming the caller’s identity and whereabouts.
            “Look man, if you want trouble you got it.” Phin began. “You should know better. This campus is guarded with cops in every corner for this very reason. Plus, I don’t get scared so easily so you’re going to have to step up your game.” Phin was back inside. He locked the door, set the alarm and notified the campus security station. “The police have already been informed.” Phin assured the caller. “If you want to play we can play. You have five seconds before cops start showing up. So what’s up, you there? You have four seconds now.”
            “I only need two.” The caller replied just as the line ended. The door bell rang. Phin froze for a minute then presumed to check who stood outside. No one, Phin thought. Phin attempted to dial *69 but received a text message instead from the unknown caller. “You’re dead,” read the message in his screen. Phin closed the message and redial the caller. As the phone rang, a ringtone blasted upstairs. Phin’s blood ran cold as he questioned who else was inside the house with him. Phin took a bat that stood by the front door and proceeded to climb the stairs. Slowly, he approached the sound.
            The call was coming from his room. Phin kicked the door open. With the bat in hand, he rushed into his room and armed himself for a fight. A small black cellular phone sat on his bed, ringing. He picked up the phone and ended the call. Someone placed a phone on his bed, someone else was in the house with him; someone who’s out to kill him. “Thought you wanted to play.” Phin teased as he reeled the caller from where ever they hid. “What, you scared?” Phin opened his closet and expected to find someone there, but all he found was his stuff.
            Phin closed the door to his room and attempted to check the room beside him. As he opened the door, a masked figure flung at him with a sharp blade. Nearly missing his chest, Phin fumbled to the floor with the masked figure. Phin reached for his bat as the masked figure reached for the knife. The two struggled to get on their feet. Phin punched the masked figure off of him and got to his feet first. Phin kicked the masked figure a few times before heading for his bat. As he turned to swing, the masked figure was gone. “That’s it?” Phin breathed as he caught his balance. “That’s all you got?”
            Phin turned to the hall and found the masked figure standing on the other end, knife at hand. The masked figure took its blade and pointed at Phin. Phin took the bat to his shoulder and gestured the masked figure to approach him. The mask figure ran towards Phin. Phin swung but the masked figure dodged. A sharp stab pierced Phin on the side, blood trickled down to his jeans. His shirt, soaked in blood, left a trail as Phin limped away. The masked figure tilted its head as it watched Phin bleed. Phin made his way to the study room and locked the door behind him.
            “Fuck you man!” Phin shouted while he gasped for air. His bloody right hand applied pressure to the open wound. “Cops will be here any second!” He hoped. The door rattled as the masked figure attempted to finish the job. Phin took whatever blunt object he could find. His head lightened from the blood loss staining his shirt, leaking down to his jeans into a pool of fresh blood. The door kept pounding. The room swindle. “Fuck off bro, you aren’t getting in!” Phin shouted as he leaned on the desk. The door to the study stopped rattling. Silence soon settled. Off in the distance, sirens approached his location.
            Relieved, Phin stepped into the shadows to hide as help arrived. Phin felt another sharp stab, this time on his back. Phin fell to the floor as the masked figure stepped into focus. Phin crawled, plead for his life as the masked figure stepped closer and closer to its helpless prey. “It was a simple game, Phin.” The masked figure said as it now stood before Phin. “You lose.” Phin screamed as the sharp blade torn his insides out. His screams were later masked by the sirens that echoed outside. The killer stabbed Phin for the last time before making an escape. Speechless were the authorities and the Neo Alpha brothers as they entered a murder scene unlike any other.
            Rumors spread like wild fire the next day. Everyone on campus got word of the murder that took place the night before. Every fraternity and sorority near the scene were on lock down as detectives questioned every body in sight. No one could believe the horrors that occurred to their star athlete. No one thought such a crime would happen, not since the crime of a local’s murder case that became a horror legend. Left and right, people were called to the deans office in question to their whereabouts the night of the incident. Those close to Phin were prime suspects. Everyone questioned their neighbor’s motive, fearing who would be next.
            “Can you believe all this hype?” Lucas proclaimed as he filmed the school grounds.
            “I can.” Mason replied as he vlogged his encounters to his channel. “Phin was a Neo brother. He was the chosen one, to get sponsored by the big leagues. Now they’ll have to settle with an understudy. How traumatic.”
            “Making light of a dark situation will only make you a suspect and earn you a one way trip to the deans office.” Kit replied as she set her equipment next to Mason. “Can we focus on our assignment. I’m not going to be late for my next class just because you two are too glued to this fiasco.” Kit placed her script on her stand and read her lines to herself. Mason and Lucas filmed the perimeters, too inspired by the events.
            “Have they called Chelsea to the deans office?” Lucas filmed Kit for a response.
            “She’s there now.” Kit replied. “Can we make this scene already? I have history next period and I need to finish this essay. Lucas and Mason set their equipment under a shade and began their shoot. Lucas trailed off while Kit recited her lines to Mason who filmed. “I know what happened to Phin was horrible but was it this bad?” Kit mentioned the numerous reporters reporting live to their news station in light of a student’s murder. “I can’t image what Chelsea is going through.” Mason and Lucas were now packing their gear for another shoot somewhere else. The live coverage of Phin’s death was becoming overwhelming.
            “It’s not as bad as what happened the last time.” Lucas pointed out, referring to the murder case of a local woman years ago. “What if the killer is trying to emulate the murders from before?” Mason and Kit stared at Lucas suspiciously. “What if Phin’s murder is just an attempt to reboot the Stab franchise?” Lucas recorded the reporters, “We can use this coverage for other projects. We can make a documentary, make our own horror classic.” Lucas seemed too fascinated by the tragic accounts, making Mason and Kit question his sanity.
            “So what, Hollywood placed a murderer in Woodsboro so they can get ideas for another cheesy slasher movie?” Mason reasoned with Lucas. “You’ve seen way too many movies Lucas.” Mason aimed his camera to himself, “For me to say that is saying something. Phin’s death was no movie plot for a scene.” Mason took coverage of the news reporters. “There were no directors shouting cut. Phin was murdered by someone wearing a ghost mask. The same mask worn by the killers who victimized local Sidney Prescott.” He trailed back to himself, “Until she fought back and won.” Mason turned to Kit. “Will you do the same?”
            “Do what?” Chelsea asked as she joined the group.
            Startled, Mason cut his live feed and shut his camera off. “We were just discussing last night’s blunder of terror.” Lucas replied, getting Mason’s embarrassment on camera. “For all my viewers on the web, can we get a statement from the victim’s girlfriend.” Kit concealed Lucas camera in respect to Chelsea’s predicament. “If not me, they will get a story out of you.” Lucas pointed to the endless herds of news reporters cashing in on the big story. Mason placed a hand on Lucas shoulder and quietly asked him not to film. “People want to know.”
            “What are you two doing with these virgins?” Zack asked as he found Chelsea and Kit with Lucas and Mason.
            “We were just wrapping up our assignment.” Kit replied.
            “You two still up for tonight?” Zack asked the girls.
            “It’s still on?” Kit answered. “After what just happened?”
            “Hell yeah, it’s still on.” Zack informed them. “Especially after what just happened. Meta Delta Zhi is hosting. The Neo Alpha’s can’t, they're on lock down because of…” Zack trailed off as he turned to the news reporters. “It’s as if the carnival is in town.”
            “Count us in.” Lucas invited himself.
            “If you’re allowed in.” Zack replied. “Let’s get out of here before those reporters see you.” Zack took Chelsea by the hand and escorted her to the back of the school, away from all the commotion. Hundreds of reporters stationed outside the school grounds surrounded everyone coming in and out. Lucas and Mason filmed their peers sharing their thoughts and outrage to the reporters while security guards hovered. Never before have they witnessed a murder bathed in blood. The main question everyone had running through their minds was knowing the killer could be near.
            “Damn,” Lucas added once Chelsea, Kit and Zack disappeared from view, “Even with Phin gone, there’s always someone else to fill the spot.”
            “What spot?” Mason asked, confused.
            “The spot you want.” Lucas answered, teasingly. “Just face it pal, you’re always going to be a friend.”
            Mason and Lucas remained by the tree as they filmed reporters slowly packing up their gear. They shot their scene then added their own thoughts and comments. Their personal vlog channel reached more than a thousand views by the afternoon. By then, the whole town was aware of the horrific crime. Once the crowd had disperse, the campus fell into a silent roar. Though reporters and their camera crew were long gone, whispers lingered. Everyone fell unease for the killer remains at large. The aftermath had everyone on edge. Halloween brought the town of Woodsboro a frightening realization. Who committed the crime? Who was out to kill again?
            “Any leads?” Detective Connor asked his partner as he entered their office.
            “I have my suspicions.” Answered his partner, Detective Stonefield. “But no solid evidence, just leads. If you ask me,” he then added, “This was no random attack.” Connor stood by Stonefield’s desk. “See, whoever killed Phin knows more than what we’re lead to believe.” Stonefield placed three images of the crime scene before Connor to examine. “Frauds” smeared in blood lay tattooed into Phin’s forehead in one image. “Phone records show someone calling Phin moments before entering the house. The killer knew the fraternities house number and Phin’s personal phone number. So, whoever the killer is knows the victim closely.”
            “That or the killer hacked their way in.” Connor stated. “I checked the phone records too. The killer is smart, he or she or they called from an untraceable line. I followed every call made that night and found this.” Connor placed a record of phone calls on Stonefield’s desk. “The killer covered its trace exceptionally well, meaning whoever this is knows how to hack their way around things.” Stonefield examined the records. “Whoever did this wanted us to know that we’re dealing with frauds.” He pointed to the image with the message, “Frauds,” written in blood. “I did a background check on Phin and found nothing. But, when I checked his family’s background, I found this.” Connor took a thick  file and placed it in front of Stonefield.
            Stonefield skimmed through the file. “Phin’s parent’s, turns out, haven’t been paying their taxes for years.” Connor summed up what he found. “Phin’s parents are also friends with the mayor, who by the way has been stealing from the city. They've been using tax payer money as their personal bank account.” Stonefield was in shock. “I did a further analyzes and found it’s not just Phin’s parents making shady business deals, half of that fraternity are involved.” Connor leaned on his desk and crossed his arms. “It’s as if the killer wants us to pick and choose which case we close first. A divergent.”
            “We were called in correlation to a student’s death,” Stonefield began, “Turns out, there’s more to this case than we’d expected.” They examined the papers that lay before them. In one pile, a murder scene remained unsolved while the other a serious of allegations involving wealthy crooks and con artist. Connor loosened his tie and began to read police statements. “Though we have frauds to incarcerate, there’s a killer on the loose. We need to prioritize. We at least have a lead, no thanks to this killer.” Stonefield placed the mask found at the scene of the crime and pinned it to his board. “What about this killer.” Stonefield asked his partner. “Do you think we have another copycat in our mist?”
            “Yes, but knowing these kids today, they probably want to make a statement.” Connor replied.
            “Like targeting frauds?” Stonefield implied. “They wouldn’t repeat the same pattern from before, it would become too obvious as to who the killer is.” He paused to context clues his way to a lead. “Damn kids, why can’t they just conform like the rest of us?” He trailed back to his desk and searched for a file stuck in his head.
            “Why conform when you can change the game?” Connor answered. “Kids today want to be known. They want to be heard.” Connor pondered in his chair as he tried to piece the puzzle before the killer killed again. “What better way to make a statement than to go for the top dog on campus, days before Halloween. The mayor set a curfew but those college kids are still throwing their party. To honor their fallen hero.” He exhaled, “If only they knew the truth, but they probably do. They’re probably part of it.” Stonefield left the station moments later. He was scheduled to interview more possible suspects.
            “I heard Chelsea killed Phin because she found him cheating on her.” Two girls whispered as they climbed the up stairs of the campus library. Her friend rejected the thought. “Phin was known for being promiscuous.” The girls crossed the upstairs lobby and entered the library’s endless maze. Few sat by the front desk, working on their thesis. Others hid in the rooms by the side, experimenting. Cece and Mandy quietly walked further into the library, getting lost within the shelves. “She probably got Zack to do it. Did you notice the two hanging around more often?”
            “Zack’s not capable of that.” Mandy replied. “They’ve known Phin since high school. Zack’s like a brother to Phin. Besides, Phin stopped talking to other girls when he got with Chelsea.” Deep within the library’s maze, books and nooks filled the emptiness. Silence whispered throughout the maze while two young females made their way to an empty station. No one lingered near.
            “Yeah, but Phin gets stalker crazy whenever Chelsea and Zack hang out without him.” Cece explained. “Chelsea probably got over Phin but couldn’t leave him because Phin would stalk Chelsea to her breaking point. We all have our limits, psychology taught me that. So, the only way Chelsea could get rid of Phin was to convince Zack to kill Phin. Right after Halloween. Why Zack? Obviously she developed a thing for him, who wouldn’t?”
            “You are delirious.” Mandy proclaimed. “Obvi, some nut job is out to get notoriety. They probably binged on the Prescott murders, became obsessed with the films and got inspired to kill wearing the same costume as the killer from the actual case. It’s probably someone from campus, if you ask me.” They found an empty desk to prepared for their exam. “You go ahead, I’m just going to check something out.” Mandy added as she walked towards a bookshelf. “I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the books. Cece opened her study guide and took out her notes.
            Mandy searched through the bookshelves, looking for the exam guide. She turned the corner when her phone vibrated. A text message appeared on Mandy’s screen from an unknown sender. Want to play a game? Mandy read the message. Intrigued, she replied, “What kind of game?” The one where I try to kill you. Chills ran down Mandy’s spine as she read the message. She looked for the exit. Mandy shock in fear as another message popped into her screen, “You’re dead!” The masked figure from before appeared on the other side of the bookshelf where Mandy stood in fright. The killer revealed its blade and aimed at Mandy.
            Mandy screamed before dashing to the exit. Security guards ran inside and up the stairs. The killer chased Mandy across the maze. Mandy threw books, chairs, anything to delay the killers grip on her. “Help!” Mandy screamed, knowing there were guards nearby. Mandy escaped the library’s maze with the killer at her tail. She bolted through the lobby when suddenly the killer got a hold on her. Mandy screamed as the killer jammed the knife through her heart. Mandy fell to the floor, dead. Blood encircled her lifeless body. The killer stepped into the maze and disappeared out of sight. The guards ran into the upstairs lobby shouting for paramedics. Cece appeared in the corner, speechless.
            As night fell, monsters in disguise came about calling for their treats. Few were brave enough to roam the streets while a killer remained at large. A second murder soon spread as reporters lingered at the college library. Fraternity row were guarded by police, stationed in every corner. More police patrolled the roads, monitoring its citizen for their safety. One sorority boomed while the others lay silent. Meta Delta Zhi hosted the annual Halloween party, in honor of their star athlete. Music echoed to the streets, entertaining the young and reckless.
            Few hung by the porch while others lay by the pool. The rest partied inside, drunk on booze and high on substance. Goblins and werewolves, saints to whores. Anyone invited came as a character with their treats in hand. The Neo Alpha brothers played beer pong, others attempted the keg stand. Hot nurses and teachers entertained their idiocy. The Meta Delta sisters remained center stage, dancing the night away; partaking in the festivities. Some streaked outside while others binged on horror films in the den. No one was concerned about a killer.
            “Did you hear Mandy was butchered in the library.” Kit informed Chelsea as they entered the house.
            “I know, I just read about it.” Chelsea replied. “I can’t believe the cops haven’t raided the place. They’re literally parked right around the corner.” As they furthered into the den, Chelsea and Kit found the security guards mingling with the students.
            “They’re just here to supervise.” Zack mentioned as he approached them. “They’ll be gone shortly. Nice costume by the way.” He complimented Chelsea on her choice of character. “You look great Kit.” He then took notice of her friend. Together they made their way to the kitchen. More and more creatures appeared out of thin air. The porch overflowed with ghouls and mummies. Dracula and Superman walked seemingly up to the front door and proceeded to enter. They gravitated towards the den where a classic horror movie reeled.
            “Told you  no one would notice.” Lucas began as he and Mason sat on the floor, facing the flat screen. “Embrace your invisibility.”
            “Shut up before someone notices.” Mason retorted. Mason looked around and spotted Chelsea in the kitchen with Zack and Kit. Lucas handed him alcohol and a joint. “Where did you get that?” He asked looking for the source.
            “They’re called party favors.” Lucas informed. “They’re passing out the bud. It’s puff, puff, pass. Get with the program noob.”
            Kit and Chelsea remained in the kitchen with Zack. The Alpha brothers held their competition to see who can chug the most beer. The Delta sisters took the party outside where more activities await the eager. Chelsea and Zack made their way to the den while Kit took a short tour of the house. “I’m going upstairs to urinate.” Kit slurred as she left Chelsea and Zack on their own. Alone, Kit made her way to the back of the house by the corner leading to the upstairs.
            She ignored the velvet rope that permitted no entry to the upstairs dormitories. The halls were narrow with dim lighting. Rows of closed doors guided her to the restroom. “Nope, not here.” Kit muttered to herself as she opened someone’s room. “This will do.” Kit entered the vacant restroom. Moments later, as she sat, her phone vibrated with a message from an unknown sender. What’s your favorite scary movie? Kit read as her vision adjusted. “Who’s this?” Kit replied but never received an answer.
            As she closed the door behind her, a masked figure stood on the other end of the hallway. “Poor choice of costume.” Kit began, sobering up. “You know there’s a cop downstairs looking for people with that face.” Kit smiled, “Are you here to kill me mister killer?” The masked figure nodded in response. “You can’t kill me, there are rules. Have you never seen a scary movie?” The masked figure shook its head. “Let me enlighten you then. I’m the lead character, I get to survive.” The killer took out a blade from within its cloak and proceeded to kill Kit.
            Kit ran to the attic, screaming for help. The music downstairs screamed louder. “Help me!” Screamed Kit, desperately fleeing from the killer’s knife. Kit closed a door behind her as she ran towards the window. The killer opened the door and before Kit could escape, the killer immobilized her. The killer slashed the back of Kit’s ankle, her screams fused with the music downstairs; masking her frantic conundrum. Kit attempted to run but couldn’t. “Please,” she begged, “Please!”
Kit crawled on the floor as the killer watched. “Please, don’t kill me.” Drunk and disoriented, Kit plead from the approaching masked figure. The killer stood before Kit and stabbed her in the chest. Kit’s screams were muffled by the booming music underneath. Tears rolled down her face as her life faded with each stab. She reached for the killers mask and was dumbfounded to find a familiar face. “You?” The killer slashed her throat before hanging her out the balcony. Those outside were oblivious until one noticed Kit’s bloody body dangling before them.
The house was quarantined by the authorities. Detective Connor and his partner Stonefield interviewed everyone in sight but were left with the same unanswered question; who could the killer be? “Is there anything else you’d like to add?” Connor asked Chelsea who has now become a prime suspect. Twice, has she been interviewed by the detectives in regards to a murder. Chelsea stood in fright and horror for two of her closes loved ones were dead. She shook her head and remained silent, Zack held her for support. “Sorry, I know this must be hard on you. We simply want to find the perpetrator. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“You think she’s the killer?” Stonefield began once they were a few distance away from Chelsea and Zack.
“No.” Replied Connor. “She looks too shaken up by this ordeal.” They stared at Zack and questioned his motives. “I’m going to ask these kids if they saw anything.” Stonefield and Connor spread as they interrogated those who stayed behind. The interrogation lasted for hours. By the witching hour, the ambulance and the detectives were gone. Leaving behind three cop cars stationed outside Meta Delta Zhi.
As things settled, Chelsea and Zack were escorted to Zack’s dorm room. The campus dorm rooms were empty. Few lingered by the community center as they watched horror films; binging on cheap alcohol and other substances. Not many were up, giving Chelsea and Zack time for privacy. They stood outside in the silent, getting over a friends death. Chelsea said nothing while Zack kept an open ear. He knew Chelsea had a lot on her mind.
“She was upstairs.” Chelsea croaked, breaking the silence. “How could this have happened?” Zack held her arm in comfort. “She was upstairs.” She couldn’t piece the puzzle together. “First Phin, then Kit. Am I being targeted? Should I go into hiding?” She turned to Zack for advice. “Who, why would someone do this? Kit never had enemies, she was always kind to others.” She fell silent again. Tears poured like rain.
“Whoever this is,” Zack assured her, “Won’t get you. I’ll make sure of that.”
He covered her with his jacket as they made their way inside. Into the elevator and down the empty halls to the forth floor, Zack guided Chelsea to his dorm room. “You can crash in my place while your parents pick you up in the morning.” He cleared his bed for Chelsea to lay in. “You’ll be safe here. Get some rest.” Chelsea thanked him and attempted to fall asleep. As they began to doze off, a call abruptly screamed for their attention.
“Unknown.” Chelsea said as she read the caller ID. Zack answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Hello Zack.” The same tantalizing voice from the start answered. “Want to play a game?” The caller laughed on the other end.
“It’s you isn’t it.” Zack replied, “You killed Phin, didn’t you.”
“Don’t forget your new girl’s friend too.” The caller added.
“Listen you little shit.” Phin threatened, “You won’t get away with this.”
“The police couldn’t stop me.” The caller recalled. “Unless you think you have a shot. Think you’re up for the challenge?”
“Any time, any place.” Phin was on his feet, ready to fight. Chelsea sat in disbelieve. “Tell me where you are and I’ll meet you there, no cops; just you and me.”
“You don’t have to look far, Zack.” The killer answered. “I’m outside your dorm room.” The line ended. Phin opened the door but found no one outside.
“Stay inside and call the police.” Zack instructed Chelsea as he gave her phone back.
“What?” Chelsea replied. “Where are you going?” Chelsea pulled Zack inside the room but Zack was determined. “Don’t go chasing a killer. Wait for the police to arrive.” Zack left the room, closing the door behind him. Chelsea dial the police. As she informed detective Connor of the situation, she waited for Zack to return. Minutes passed without hearing from him. She opened the door and checked the halls. She debated whether to wait for the authorities but the longer she waited the more terrified she became. Zack needs me, she told herself. She wouldn’t let another friend die.
Silence rang in her ear as she peered through the corners of the hallways, alert and alone. Weaponless, Chelsea roamed the corridors silently; calling, searching. To her horror, a blood stain caught her view. A bloody hand lay imprinted on the wall. She followed the trail when suddenly her phone rang. The caller ID read, unknown. “Hello?” Chelsea answered, hesitantly. “Hello?” She called again.
“Hello Chelsea.” The same unknown caller from before replied. “What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“I don’t have one.” Chelsea said, slowly entering a deserted den. “What’s yours?”
“Stab,” the caller answered, “Ever heard of it?”
“You mean the one based on the Woodsboro murders?” Chelsea replied. “No, why?”
“Because you’re playing the main character, congratulations.”
“Am I?” Chelsea implied. “Then I should be relieved, right? Doesn’t the main character live by the end of the movie?”
“Not in my movie.”
“Well, hate to break it to you but I never auditioned for the role.” Chelsea stepped inside the lobby. Off in the distance, red and blue lights appeared; sirens followed. “Besides, this is the part when the police come and take you away.”
“Yeah, why is that?” The caller asked. “Did you notify the authorities?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.” Chelsea replied, hopeful.
“That didn’t go too well for Phin or Kit.” The caller laughed.
“Then why don’t you show yourself and get this over with.” Chelsea demanded.
“With pleasure.” Behind her, the killer appeared; blade at hand. Chelsea tossed her phone, hitting the killer in the face. She quickly ran beside the killer, missing a cut to her arm. Chelsea was now in the hallways, running to the front door. She instantly stopped as Zack’s mutilated body blocked the front entrance. Chelsea screamed in fright. The killer widened its grip, its mask silently screamed at her.
“Can you survive the night?” The killer spoke through its mask, its voice auto tuned.
“Fuck you!” Chelsea cursed as she swung at the killer who stood feet away from her. She knocked the killer to the floor. Chelsea turned right and made her way to the stairs. The killer chased her to the second floor before tackling her to the ground. Chelsea fought for her life as the killer aimed its sharp blade to her heart. She took hold of the blade and attempted to free herself from the killer. The killer grabbed her head and slammed it to the floor. The room spun. Chelsea felt the knife stab her in the chest.
“Ah!” Chelsea screamed, hoping someone would come to her rescue. Blood oozed out into her blouse. She placed her hand on the open wound as the killer stood beside her swaying its knife back and forth, teasing her of what’s to come. Chelsea got to her feet and turned the corner. Her hand stained the walls as she limped away from the killer who followed her every move. Chelsea stood by the stair rails and screamed as loud as she could for help.
Chelsea turned as the killer took its knife to her throat. “Now you die.” The killer attempted to slit her throat but Chelsea fought back with whatever strength she had left. The two wrestled for the others death until Chelsea leaned forward. She watched in horror as the killer fell to the first floor, right before cutting the side of her arm. Chelsea applied pressure to her open wound, blood ran down her elbow.
The authorities arrived soon after. Sirens roared all around as ten police cars surrounded the dorm building. Few emerged from their rooms, stunned to find the police outside. Chelsea dropped to her knees, relieved the horror had passed. She survived the night, though scared by the events. The police entered the dorm rooms from the other side with the detectives taking note of Zack’s body.
Detective Stonefield and Connor approached Chelsea who remained by the stairway, shaking in fright. “Did you see where the killer went?” Stonefield asked as they stood before Chelsea. Confused, Chelsea turned to them.
“Did you not see the body?” Chelsea pointed downstairs where the killer fell. To her disarray, the detectives informed her they passed no other body other than Zack’s. Her eyes widened in fear, tears dropped like cannons. As the cops searched the perimeter, they came to find no trace of where the killer escaped. Detective Connor and Stonefield hovered around Chelsea who frantically shook in disbelieve. How could the killer have survived the fall? Chelsea cradled her fears for the killer remained at large.

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Going Viral


U want a ride
Be inside
Go far & wide
Better bring that intellect
Catch me on the internet

Crystal sky
I’m on that high
No don’t get shy
Hotter than the Milky Way
Underneath the stars, we play

I’m the type that takes the lead
Yeah we like to smoke that weed
Going viral every week
Working on that good physique
We’re too young to even stress
Getting high & getting blaze
U’r the type that’s never pleased
But u love it when we tease

Hollywood lights
Entice my sights
We reach new heights
U don’t have to b as cool
I just want to work that tool

We levitate
They emulate
Let’s celebrate
Body like an ancient Greek
Smarter than ur average geek

Better bring that intellect
Catch me on the internet
Hotter than the Milky Way
Underneath the stars, we play
U don’t have to b as cool
I just want to work that tool
Body like an ancient Greek
Smarter than ur average geek

Friday, May 27, 2016

Error 404


            Fame and fortune came to a screeching halt as fate approached the finish line. The end of the world was no longer a matter of if, but a matter of when. Heroes, born in a time where no such thing exist, inspired obedience while villains, the privileged elite, enforced laws only they were exempt from. The world became the villains stage as they premeditated man’s future to their design. Only the rich grew richer, the system was never broken; it was built as so. Anyone who opposed were found, purged and eradicated.
            Oblivion loomed in every corner as more revelations came into light, invoking mass civil unrest. Those affected by their official’s corruption rallied together, unionized a militia and marched to the capital but were stopped dead in their tracks as the police turned against the people; protecting only those who held the power, money. Those protesting for change were silenced, exploited into submission. The rest of the world were informed to abide without questioning. To trust those who oppress with good intentions.
            The world kept tittering, spinning into a future obsessed with order and chaos. Many felt sorrow while few bathed in paradise. Others struggled to see the light of day. Slaving away, investing in a life that will never be theirs; inspiring those who watched all the while. Only the privilege reeked the benefits from the corruption that engulfed the world. It is they who have the power to turn things around for the better; for all of mankind. But why would they steer away from something that has worked in their favor?
            Chitter, chatter; ring, ring! Excitement buzzed throughout the commotion as a cocked-up news room kept busy informing the world of the illusions they were governed by. People rushed passed one another, back and forth, as phones rang without an answer. They were all too preoccupied, waking the world from the lies the sheep cling to for a guide, for some hope. One journalist sat in her station as she researched contents for her article. She alone was assigned to find the source, the rumor, the threat that endangered us all.
“Error 404,” in bold read the webpage as she came to a sudden dead end. She sighed as she refreshed the page, hoping to find content to back up her piece. “Page not found.” She leaned and tossed her head back, she stared at the ceiling. The phones kept ringing, the chatter kept echoing. All the whispers blocked her clarity for a solution. She wanted to pull her hair, scream at the top of her lungs, anything to keep her mind off her assignment. Exhaling did little to nothing to ease her mind, frustration. Again, she retyped the website. She hit enter but the same bold letters read, “Error 404.”
“How’s the research going, Rey?” Jean asked as he entered her cubical.
“Dean,” Reyna jolted, “I need you to decode this for me.”
“Sure, scoot over.” Jean replied. Reyna stood, cleared her mind from all the distractions as she paced back and forth in her cubical. Jean sat in her chair and hacked through the system. He broke through firewalls, opened back doors and encryptions. Once he hit enter the page that read, “Error, not found,” suddenly poured vital revelations Reyna was looking for. “There’s a reason why the government codes this kind of information. The deep web is where they burry the truth. Only hackers, decoders, can rummage through their security.”
“You are a genius, Jean.” Reyna proclaimed. “Where would Exposure be without you.”
“Probably with some other low life hacker with little to no morals. They’re in high demand now. Luckily for them, there’s plenty of us to go around; you’re surrounded.” Jean laughed as he left. “Middle schoolers can do it better, but that would be considered child labor. It’s frown upon amongst union workers and bad for our image.” He was now outside Reyna’s cubical, “I’ll be with Dorian if you need me.”
Reyna was back on her expedition to finding the truth. As the webpage loaded, her eyes widened in horror and fascination. The worlds speculations stood right before her, as facts. She scrolled through the deep web. Files on illegal experimentations, assassination plots to chemical poisoning were all too fictitious; like some plot in a movie. The truth is never hidden, she came to realize. It is merely buried as a conspiracy spread by government officials to hide their crimes for if the people knew what their government were doing with their taxes there wouldn’t be a government to overthrow. Reyna printed everything until she stumbled upon another unsettling fact.
 “The rumors are true,” the documents verified as she kept scrolling, printing religiously. The screen began to glitch. “What?” Her monitor then turned off. She tried to reboot her computer but the screen never revived. “Unbelievable.” Her computer tower crashed as she tried again and again but to no avail. She took her findings and made her way to another computer, hers no longer functioned. She needed a better, more secure computer. One she’s come to know is far more reliable than anyone she knows. One name remained circling above her head.
The floor room reeked of coffee and cigarettes. Smoke clouds hung throughout the ceiling, fogging the station. Back and forth, people kept passing one another; all full of unpublished material ready to be materialized. Reyna turned the corner to where Jean and Dorian stood. Their editor proofread their articles. “Jean,” she called moments later, “I’m going to need your computer. Mine crashed.” Jean excused himself and brought Reyna to his station.
Without missing a beat, Jean logged into his computer and made room for Reyna to sit. “Guess someone doesn’t want me to expose the truth.” Reyna handed Jean her papers and enlightened him on her findings. Jean stood amazed as he summarized every page. Historical staged events to rigged elections. Hit list filed by government officials targeting average citizens and non-citizens to foreign and local officials. Global terrorist organization groups working with government officials. Manipulations to annexations, corporate espionage to brainwash; it was all there.
“I was just about to click on this one file when suddenly my computer crashed.” Reyna explained as she retyped the website Jean had hacked through.
“I can see why.” Jean replied. “Look at this,” he pointed to a page she had printed, “Back in Roswell, the incident was staged to lure peoples trust back to the government. They manipulated an entire town to draw attention away from what the government was actually doing. They recruited scientists and Hollywood executives to brainwash those who knew the truth to make them seem like some conspiracy nut jobs. Jesus.” Jean flipped another page. “They’re lacing the water supply with dumbing chemicals that will make people susceptible to their officials every word, in an essence, mind control.”
“They’re doing far more things than mass control.” Reyna added. “And I have proof.”
“Listen to this,” Jean commented, too lost in Reyna’s findings, “There are agencies in the government with objectives to seek those ‘awake’ to prevent revolutions against their officials. It’s like one big movie plot.” Jean read on, “There’s even names of renowned Hollywood producers who have ties with government officials. They’re working together to spy on certain people to gain inspiration for their next blockbuster by hacking those writing their own.” Jean turned another page, nodding in awe.
“They’re monitoring people for a reason. Our safety sure as hell isn’t.” Reyna input.
“They were probably monitoring you too.” Jean replied.
“Do you think they can disable computers wirelessly?” Reyna asked. They silently questioned, wondering the inevitable.
“It would explain why your computer crashed.” Jean answered. “We did hack the system, opened Pandora’s box.”
            “If you think that was the end of it, think again.” Reyna replied. “Remember that article I was assigned?” Jean nodded in response, buried in Reyna’s findings. “Well I found information to back it up.” Reyna was back on the deep web, back to where she was before her computer crashed. “Here,” Reyna found the file she was looking for, “Here is the proof.” She clicked on the file. Just as the page was loading, the computer mysteriously glitch. “It’s happening again.” The screen faded in and out, the tower began to spark.
“They are hacking us.” Jean answered. Reyna stepped aside as Jean countered the attack. “They’re clever but I hacked their manual a long time ago.” Jean texted a series of symbols, letters and numbers; what more is there is to hacking? The tower stopped sparking, the screen froze for a moment. As the computer rebooted, Jean and Reyna feast their eyes on the future of mankind. “Reyna, tell me you are printing this.” Plots for a mass exodus hidden only to the general public were now in Jean and Reyna’s possession.
“It’s already begun.” Reyna read a list of steps needed, and accomplished, in order to prepare for an extinction, “They’re poisoning the population, deforming the lower class into retarded savages. They’re seeking and eliminating those who defy their new world order to keep the rest of the population in fear and obedient. We hacked all of their plans for world domination,” she raised the pages sliding out of the printer, “We can make a difference. The elite ruling class are preparing themselves for a nuclear extinction that we can prevent.”
“They’ve even recruited an elite army to arm themselves for protection. Look,” Reyna pointed out, “They built underground pods that can sustain harmful radiation with years supply of food and water. The locations to the underground pod entrances are everywhere and they’re connected but coded with a password. Only those with the key are granted a life in the coming new world.” She turned to Jean, “It’s all here Jean, the end of the world. Our apocalypse, Armageddon.” She paused, denning the truth that stood before her very eyes. She shook her head in disbelieve.
“The rich are planning the apocalypse to purge the world of all its evil.” Jean read moments later. “Only in this case, the lower class are the evil the world needs to eradicate.” Jean sat beside Reyna as she concealed the horror in her face. “Names and accomplices are all there too.” Jean added. “We can stop them. They’re planning another genocide because they fear the poor will purge the rich. What is this, the 90’s? These people are insane, fear has become their center. Is this the only way they’ll accomplish their goals for total control? They’re completely delusional. Surely they can’t see poor people as savages, they’re just people.”
“But look around you.” Reyna commented. “People of privilege fear those unfortunate because they think those unfortunate want everything the privilege have and will do anything to get it. Why else do they arm themselves with state of the art security system? It’s what everyone wants and when everyone wants the same thing, no one can.” She turned to Jean who shared the same expression. “The people need to know their fate. We must expose the truth so people can come together and put an end to this.”
“It will only create more mass panic.” Jean replied. “It’s what they want so they can go forward with their plan. Don’t you get it, why else would the media, owned by the very same corporations who are plotting the end of the world, be revealing what the government has been suppressing for years? The ruling class want civil unrest so that they can convince the other elites to join the apocalypse they’re creating. It’s all part of their plan, and we have the evidence to prove it. We must go to the authorities.”
“But what if they’re doing this so that we can come together instead of overthrowing each other into extinction?” Reyna questioned, seeing every possible outcome. “What if they’re testing the public to see whether or not they, the world, are worth saving? There’s no reason as to why the rich would eradicate the world simply because of their fear towards those less unfortunate. Without the lower class, who will support their products, inventions? Minimizing the population will only dwindle their currency. Its illogical.”
“Unless fear has taken over them completely.” Jean answered. “Don’t forget, that’s what they run on. They use fear to control, manipulate, people into trusting them. Besides, there are far more poor people than there are rich. We are the 99 percent; they are just one percent of the population. We have them surrounded. Why else would the government be targeting the lower class? Minimizing the poor population with cancerous chemicals.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Reyna replied. “We must go public with this, then we go to the authorities. Let the people decide their fate for themselves.”
A week later, Reyna publicized her article in hopes of making people see the only chance for survival anyone has, the world for that matter, is to unite regardless of which social class they belonged to but it was too late. Those who lingered in the shadows, the watchful eye, blocked Reyna’s message of unity with propaganda. The agents of chaos muffled her voice with paranoia and illusions, changing people’s perspective for the worse. The end of an era was at hand, just as planned. Nothing could be done to change their minds.
“People just want to live.” Mocked the oppressors, the elite ruling class. “When we ourselves want the exact same thing only some rather live a life of crime when left to their own devises. We invest in a world where obedience is ours to control without the hassle of asking, and why should we ask? Our forefathers foresaw a nation where people cherish, praise, us for our noble cause to breed a perfect top notch elite world. We have upheld all of their wishes.” They recollected, “It’s not as simple for one to build a life we didn’t see for them anymore. This is what the people want, order without chaos.” They all congratulated themselves.
“And what of this rebellion?” The child who ruled them all, the master puppeteer to an invisible sovereign deity, breathed through his oxygen mask.
“Just another addition to our ever expanding conspiracy book.” Millyen Vaultz answered. “Nothing we haven’t dealt with before. I mean, people still believe aliens are abducting them.” They laughed in unison. “No better time to go forward with our plans. Gentlemen, the future has never been so bright. Everything we’ve foreseen has come to fruition. All pieces lay where they should. The new world is prime for harvest.”
“People will know what’s coming.” The master added.
“Some do.” The Illusionist replied. “But no one believes them, no one ever believes them. We make sure of that.” She smirked. “Those who speak the truth are seen as delusional individuals with mental issues, out of touch with reality because they forget who they challenge. We are the powers that be. We will everyone’s future to fit our design. We’ve evolved, more organized than ever before. Our order is not one to mess with, that is for certain.”
“Besides,” Vaultz recalled, “What can the people do? The only power they hold is believing they have a vote. The only thing they can do is inform the sleepers of what’s coming but that will only get them so far. Men, it’s time we burn this world to the ground, rise from the ashes as the phoenix once did and bring forth a world perfect for our descendants to pass on our reign. This world has grown dead, no longer fit for our labor. We must begin anew. Birth a world spoiled in elegance, fit for Gods return.”
“Anew we will fulfill.” The master breath as his heart monitor murmured beside him. “Our ancestors survived the great flood. They fought the Atlantic. They thrived through the native genocide. Rose above the civil war era. We by extension will carry our forefather’s legacy of designing a world free of all its evil. We, gentlemen, will solidify our reign. We will be remembered for all generations as the founding fathers of the new elite world.”
The end of the world came as scheduled. The few who could reserve sanctuary went down to their bunkers, just as told. They sealed themselves from harm’s way as the rest of the world blindly accepted their fate. The outside stood free for just a split moment as the privilege hid. No one stood divided from social class or creed. No one had more than the other. The world was at peace, until the sirens came roaring in the distance. Underground the elite remained, waiting for the screams to end.
The sky trembled as the military machine approached. An ominous threat lingered in the air as people became alarmed. A woman screamed as she realized the inevitable. The sun vanished as bombs fell. The fires grew a mile high as nuclear toxins exploded in every corner. Innocent lives were gone in the atomic blaze. Their cries for help were muffled, only their all-seeing God watched as his children annihilated each other without mercy. Their screams infused with the blaze were haunting to those underground. No one came to their rescue. No one came for their souls.
The nuclear catastrophe lasted for years as calculated. While the elite roamed in their underground community pods, the flames up above engulfed all corners of the world; incinerating the old to usher in anew. The new birth was long but necessary. History would never remember those lost in the streets. Earths new children would never mourn the evil their forefathers exterminated. Time will only tell of its rise from the ashes, it’s ascension to a perfect privilege world.
“Help,” came a wounded survivor buried among the rubble, “Help!” He shouted but the flames were louder. Through the dancing inferno, a bright luminous orb hovered above. He reached towards the light, desperately gripping for a savior. The military helicopter patrolling the rummage aimed its beams towards the wounded survivor and torched him to death. They torched them all to death. The only survivors came from underground bunkers.