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nerdykid3.14

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PostedMar 19, 2013 5:54 pm

D3C0D3R

Short Story - Part 1 ~ "Hang Man"
A coward huh, is that all I was meant to be, I guess I was chosen for this role by fate. All I do is cower in the corner while innocent people are getting killed out there. My name is Max, I have no last name or I can’t remember what it was, it could have been smith or jelly bean. I am alone now more than ever, I have only the horrid past and the unpredictable future. If you are getting this transmition then I'm either dead or still cowering in the corner. A little something about me, I have white hair, I'm 5, 6 with a skin complexion of white. I am delusional demented and comical about everything I approach. My story is now yours to share or keep do what you must, I'm Max and I'm a Decoder.
Saturday March 1st 98 Apoc, it is a new day as usual. I woke up light headed with a fuzzy feeling that today will be a different day. Once I would like to become someone I'm not, only till then will my life ever be complete. I got up and looked in the mirror; I did not see a person, only a hollow physical form of fear and desperation. I looked back to see only an empty void disguised as my room, no content of joy in any level existed. I headed straight for the shower; water which cleanses the outside while soothes the inside. It had no effect on me however, the water felt cold, almost like dead hopes and dreams. If I had a soul then maybe it would sooth the spiritual inside of my body, my soul left with my happiness a long time ago. I got dressed, and again looked in the mirror, a tool to help you see the imperfection and differentiate it from the perfection that each person has. Now everybody only sees imperfection that must be perfected to exist in the cruel world. I got dressed nothing too fancy of course; I like to say that what you give to the world is something you will definitely never get back. So why give it all you have got when the rewards don’t reap themselves. I went down to the living room to admire the internal décor Aunt Nancy put up. Pink with flowers, frills and orchids surrounding the walls of the house, great why don’t I just throw up pixie dust and fart skittles to make it all the better. I passed through the dining room and there where was the family, Aunt Nancy, Uncle Fer-din, and the girl of my dreams Julie Rockwell. Oh how her brown luscious hair falls down to her waist, how her face illuminates the whole house, and that perfect smile that just makes my day so…Horrible. Like a love life for me ever existed, yet I still interest in her because she’s the complete opposite of me, its mind boggling how she manages to be happy all the time.
“Hey moody, your breakfast is in the fridge, eat it before I feed it to the dogs!” (Aunt Judy preached.)
“Of course your majesty, I will take upon this kind offering as the best thing that’s ever happened to little old me.”(Max doing a courtesy and speaking in a British accent).
“Just shut up and eat your food, and don’t be late for your date with "Idiot.” (Aunt Judy).
I saw Julie laughing a bit in the background which means Max one and mean fat auntie zero. I got the breakfast out of the fridge, oh yes how yesterday’s tuna casserole was so splendid. It was so good I had to spend thirty minutes before and after the meal in the bathroom losing some weight to intake this wonderful dish. I would have taken seconds too if there weren't better ways to die, which reminds me its Hangmen today. Jester or Old Man Jenkins will be accompanying me today for this wonderful event. I let the earth eat the taste of itself as I dumped the tuna casserole somewhere in the backyard radius. I exited via the back fence and made my way to the secret base hideout, or better known as Jenkins’s very big basement. I paced my way there with the most quickest of speed, whatever that is. I approached Jenkins’s house and it looked the same on a rainy or a sunny day. Old, broken and faded that’s the best way to put his house in terms of overall appearance. Although the treasure is what’s under the whole property, I went inside the tool shed in the corner and lifted the mat covering the small hatch to the basement. Maybe as big as two blocks, the area was surrounded by computers of all shapes and sizes. A vast area of technology literally littered the place; Jenkins was living the life I wanted. I shouted at Jenkins from his desk where he was reviewing worksheets for today’s Hangmen.
“Another day goes by without salvation; they only kill more and more of us.” (Jenkins)
“We can only stand and watch; trying to do something about it would get us killed” (Max)
“Yeah, they have been doing this for 21 years; it sickens me that the government is corrupt.” (Jenkins).
“Well we know one thing for sure Hangmen works and we can never stop it.” (Max)
With that he got up and started heading towards the exit, it was almost time for Hangmen again. The governments way of cutting the population, there were other ways in which we never saw. The Addiction Dome, Genocide Fields, and the Reaper’s Labyrinth, all of these are just games of the government in which no one ever won but them. We climbed through the exit and walked outside the shed, the clouds were dark and omniscient, and almost like they were mocking us from above, probably signalling that another life will be taken. We got into Jenkins’s car and drove to the town’s center, a place used to host things such as talents shows and fair’s. Now it’s only a place we say goodbye to people and wish them luck on the other side. The drive there was silent of course; there wasn't anything to talk about. Only praying and luck will save you, normally people would rebel, but were waiting our turn for the one way ticket that will get us out of this mess. We passed by people on our way, all of them had blank faces, no emotion, no thoughts and no will. This became a way of our life; it happened everywhere and happened every week on Saturday. We got out, and headed towards a crowd, some soldiers were there handing tickets to people out of a box we call Pandora. I took one and it read 37, I asked Jenkins what his was, 81 not bad I thought odd numbers are the ones most likely to survive. After the cards were distributed we took our places within the crowd. Numbers were called up like always, then next comes the riddle. Name two battleships that Valhalla used in the war, the answer was easy but I never spoke up. The friends and family of the people up there tried everything they could to guess, but with each one a limb gets cut off. Blood trickled down, on the ground as if a fountain existed, with each one screams were heard and cries roared through the air. There was a day like this before, in my cold and forgotten past, I will never forget that day. It could have been anybody, but the gods looked down on me, it was the day I killed my own parents.


Note from the author - Please if this is not removed for it might be a little extreme for the kiddies out there, offer feed back, grammar corrections, suggestions and even hate because that lets me know you read some part of it ^^. ~Kyozen
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