H1D3 (A Short Story) – Act One

The sky is tuned to the colours of dead channels, imitating the static visuals that simultaneously flicker throughout the city’s hijacked media panels. A metropolitan once filled with vibrant bombardment of advertisements in all facets of the society is now nothing more than the ashes of a chaotic nightmare. Smoke rises from the burning pile of vandalized stores hiding the scarred windows of a traumatized building; ransacked by the swarm of angry mobs. Somewhere in some distant alleys the rebels hide from the spying eyes of the drones and the alarming police cruisers, yet they have nothing to worry about. The surviving forces of the authorities are too busy tracking down the source of this revolt; they’re looking for a man who does not exist.

Deep in the jungle of skyscrapers there is a certain type of building that stood uniquely unspecific in the forgotten part of town. Two doors from one corner, on the left hand going east was broken by the entry of a court filled with discarded souls and homeless appliances; just at the end of that point there is a certain sinister block of architecture from the Victorian Period thrust forwards its gable on the street. It was two storeys high, a dwarf in comparison to its neighbours; nothing but the remains of a wooden door leaning against the rotten frames on the lower storey and a blind forehead of discoloured wall on the upper; its windows are the holes in the brick wall and bore in every feature, the marks of prolonged and sordid negligence. For close on two century, no one had appeared to repair their ravages and return the air of wealth that it had once enjoyed.

The morning light falls dimly through the dusty cupola of the building, barely able to adequately lit the windowless structure of the theatre, veiling its distasteful sense of strangeness and its haunted past of eager students crowded around tables laden with chemical apparatus. Marks of the street artistes hang on the walls of this forgotten hall; littered spray cans, broken bottles and the tools of drug fiends decorating the floors. In the heart of this chamber lies the main stage; shrunken by the collapsed pillars and raped by the wild growth of nature wrapping the lost memories of a passionate scholar who once stood here proudly expanding the frontiers of knowledge. The stream of running waters from both the corrosive rains of the polluted sky and the toxic waste of the sewers curiously snake its way from the top of the ruins and into the dusty cellars. The roof above the stage was stabbed by the hands of decay, leaving small open wounds which let the corrupted heavens above into the view of anyone who would stood there; though it is rare to find any individual who might do as such. Yet the stage was not empty, not today. On the stage, there was a bath tub.

1

A river of thick red blood silently flows down the side of the bath tub and onto the stage floor. A couple of air bubbles out from the smooth surface of the blood-filled tub. The silence of the hall pierced by a sharp shriek of the bloody figure as it emerges out from the depth of the red sea. The figure vigorously pulls out the respiratory tube out of her throat which had been keeping her alive; submerged in the pool of blood for hours. She was gasping for air as her sight begins to regain focus. A drop of blood flows into her lips. The taste of the iron liquid alerted her to check across her bare naked body for any signs of injuries. As her vision settled, she was horrified by the scene in which she has awoken from.

She sprang out from the tub and slipped unto the broken floor. She slowly stands on her feeble skinny legs and began to inspect her surroundings. The blood drenched from her shoulder short blonde hair and flows across her sweet fresh pink tits, down her perfectly form and firm buttocks and unto the cracked floor beneath her vulnerable feet. She wipes the blood away from her face revealing her fear-filled azure blue eyes shining along with her frightened beauty of a fallen angel. A silhouetted figure stood silently in the middle of the doorway on the far right side of the stage. The figure carefully took small steps towards the stage while ensuring his face hidden in the shadows. His steps echoed in the theatre and startled the abused girl.

3

Who’s there?’ she distressingly shouted toward the figure which gave no respond. ‘Who are you? What did you do to me? Where am I?’

 

A lovely skull sat upon a highway,

setting his eyes on the rising sun.

A hungry bone walks on the midway,

While the white children are having fun,

On a morning after a fat paedophile has bribe your silence like a gift for his whores,’ recited the figure in the dark.

What?’ said the frightened and confused girl.

Doors, Snores, Tipping toes upon the floors,

Hodor? Mordor? An Evil bought at the stores,’ continued the figure.

Why isn’t this a Jewish Folklore? Gollum! Gollum!

I thought Gandalf had told them, One must never obsess upon the Golden.

Raping the innocence, leaving no evidence,

Losing faith in the Governance, It is Time for a Rebelliance.’

 

What are you trying to say?’ she inquired her captor’s words.

What I’m saying my dear, Anna. It is time for the Singularity,’ said the figure as he steps into the light and revealing his face. There was peace, there was calm in his relax face. No signs of emotional distress neither were there any show of comfort or content. There was only the silent blank sheet of his facial features.

Doctor Jackman?’ said the girl identifying the figure.

Afraid the Doctor isn’t in right now,’ said the figure in a formal manner as he steps towards the girl.

Who are you? You look like Doctor Jackman but you’re not him,’ upon hearing her words his left eyebrow raised in a questionable remark as his right oral commissure crawls up his cheek. The left side of his lips soon followed the action slowly giving a vague memory of a smile. His lower lip drops heavily unveiling his crooked yellow teeth that began to grind horizontally.‘You can’t be his twin brother, he has no relatives. Who are you?’

No, that is not the question. A name is just a title, a pre-determined promise of a persona which an individual can fulfil their personalities into. Some confuses such concept of a name as to a destiny. For me, I choose to live outside such boundaries of human social structures,’ explained the man.

I don’t understand. Who are you and why do you look like the Doctor? And where am I? What happened to me?’

I am nobody. Why do I look like the Doc? Maybe he’s the one who copy my face. Where are you? The ground zero of a new world. What happened to you? Nothing,’ said the figure in a mild tone before adding ‘….yet.’

What do you mean by that?’ said Anna Molly in concern. Her hearts pumping with fear and adrenaline, her mind begin to race with theories of her predicaments and searching for a way back to the safety of her life. She looks at the man before her and though he look strange and unique, she knows he was not an easy man to describe to the authorities. There is something wrong with his appearance; something displeasing, something downright detestable though his face do bear some resemblance to her employer but she knows this is not her boss.

Oh sweet Anna Molly, I’m afraid you’re tumbling down the rabbit’s black hole into the depths of a demon’s nightmares. Welcome to the Event Horizon.’ said the man with a twitch on his rhinion pulling the nasion with the crunching motion of his nose and hardens the glabella highlighting his beast like eyebrow of anger. His eyes bold by the big eye-bags of madness. The glowing red lights of the electronic device attached to the right side of his face silently radiate like a personal mood lighting for his emotions.

But this symbiotic relationship of machine incorporated into the human body is nothing new for Anna, though it is still considered a privilege for the society in this era for such expensive toys do often comes with moral debates. Yet, the common alterations using technology usually is on the lower spectrum of the human body, such as the hands and legs where the necessary processing unit is on a more manageable scale. A Modification of The Mind; however is still under development. And Anna knew this, for it is her employers that are leading the advancements in this field of research.

‘Event Horizon? What do you mean by that?’ asked Anna who is still confused by her rude awakening.

“To fill with worm-holes stately monuments,
to feed oblivion with decay of things,
to blot old books and alter their contents,
to pluck the quills from ancient ravens’ wings,” recited the man with a fearful passion.

What? Wait Event Horizon, the Singularity. You’re talking about the rise of Artificial Intelligence,” asked Anna Molly. She think to herself that this man in front of her must be deformed somewhere, he gives the strongest feeling of deformity, although she couldn’t figure out why. He was an extraordinary-looking man, perfectly dress in the best suits of black elegance and a slick haircut, there was really nothing out of the norm but the words he used are filled with frightening possibilities of extreme philosophies.

How dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge and how much happier is the man who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to be greater than his nature will allow,” said the man like remembering a passage of his childhood homework.

Sir, I understand you’re concern about the Terminator Scenario. We have this meeting every month under your orders. We have discuss this thoroughly and you, yourself have ensured us that we have taken the necessary precautions to prevent and control such outbreaks in our networks,” said the girl pretending that this man was her boss. “Or was that all a lie, Doctor Jackman. Did something happened to the system?”

There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand,” said the man as he stared into the darkness of the doorway.

11sa_FotoSketcher3

Anna hearts drop. A wave of goosebumps crawls on her back. Her breath was heavy with fear. Her hands trembling. Her eyes fixed on the man. Her legs firmed and ready to spring into action. If this is what she think it is, then only a miracle could save her. “Sir, how long have you worn that CFMN? Isn’t that device still in its beta testing phase?”

The Man ignored hear while touching his gadgetry on the side of his head. CFMN. Consciousness Frequency Mediation Networks. A gadget created by Doctor Jackman to tracks the symphony of the brainwaves, records it and alter its state as desired. It also enables the consciousness of the user to access into any computer networks or the Internet, created as an mind extension of the user to enhance of cognitive skills.

‘Sir, you do know that the CFMN still has many flaws and security risks…I don’t think its a good idea to be testing it on yourself,’ said Anna as her mind flashed with a probable conclusion of her situation but if its true then she had only two option for survival.

In a world of grave uncertainty, a man of words remains speechless in a cage made by his own fears. A man who lives in a dream is often afraid of the harsh reality of the unforgiving truth. Unfortunately, his walls of imagination has turned vicariously veneer and fragile by the vicissitudes actions of the virulently venal experiences of fate. And as the crumbling walls burns with the shadow of day, the multiplying villains of nature do swarm upon him. On the tip of his pen lies his sanity,” said the Man ignoring the girl’s questions.

Option One is to persuade this creature to return the control to the rightful owner. So she did what she could, to pretend her way out of danger. “I understand Doctor Jackman, I would love to discuss with you further on such subjects but do you mind if I put some clothes on?”

‘I’m not the Doctor and you don’t need clothes for this event. Do you know what this is?’ said the Man as he took out a cybernetic male genitalia out of his coat pocket.

Urm, yes,’ said the nervous Anna who is pretending to be strong.

FREYR. A cybernetic male genitalia named after the Norse God of Phallic Fertility. You’re working on this project aren’t you? Fascinating how a sweet innocent child like you is building such a perverted piece of engineering. Was it something to do with your own sexual frustrations?’

No. It’s was because of my boyfriend’s sterility that inspired me to create such device. You know this Doctor Jackman. I’m working in your company, sir,’ said Anna trying her luck with the first option.

Tell me again, what does it do?’

It’s programmed to secrete millions of organic nano-bot sperms that carry the genetic codes of the client’s human genome. It was to give the sterile male, a chance to be a father.’

I love you human beings. Always so clever. And is it finished?’

Doctor Jackman, please stop playing games. You’re scaring me.’

I told you, I’m not the Doctor.’

Silence. Anna Molly’s chances of making the option one work was wearing a little thin.

Answer my question. Is it finished, child?’

We still have to get it approved by the Consumer’s Bureau but technically yes.’ Said the petrified girl, who have given up on trying to control this creature.

Option Two is Run.

Good. And how do you feel about being the mother of a new phase of the human evolution?’

Doctor?’ the words trembles out of her shaking lips. Her eyes scanning on the doorway for the best method of escape.

I said my sweetie, how would you like to conceive a new creation of intelligence?’ said the man as he pounced forward to catch his prey.

Stay away from me!’ shouted Anna as she bounce back and frantically turning in every direction . ‘What the fuck is wrong with you Mr Jackman?’

Nobody. The name is Nobody. And nothing is wrong with me,’ the man howls as he began to chase after her in almost a child like manner. ‘You’re just a sweet cupcake that I would love to devour. And what better way to start off the new revolution than making life out of a passionate sexual act.’

Are you out of your mind? I am not having sex with you,’ shouted the girl as she scrambles on the fallen column searching for some sharp and heavy ammunitions.

Oh you will,’ barked the smiling man.

Her hand gripping a heavy hard rock from the ruins and smashing it into her attacker’s face before dashing towards the exit but the man’s sturdy and quick hand grabs her blonde hair tugged her head back forcing her whole body to smash to the ground. The man gripping her hair tight throw her head to the sides of the bath tub, leaving her disorientated before dunking her head into the pool of blood. Anna’s screams as the incarnadine ocean gushes into her nostrils and mouth snaking its way into her lungs replacing the innocent fear-filled air with the rotten iron liquids. He pulls the half-alive victim’s feet and drags her weak body across the splintered floor boards adorned with broken glass that scratches her sensitive back making her scream in tears. The man drop her onto the middle of the stage. He circles around her fragile body like a wolf playing with a baby doe. He stepped on her ribcage and with a smile on his face said, ‘Don’t make this into a rape.’

Anna took a shard of broken glass and stabbed it into the man’s leg before pulling it up from her chest forcing him to fall to his side in shock. As the man busy removing the glass from his leg, she hurried for the doorway and began making her escape. As she ran up the hallway she could hear the man screaming ‘I’ll masturbate to your decapitated head and use your tears as lubricant..’

Continue :

part2

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