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The energy was still cackling in
the outer chamber when he regained consciousness. Gasping, the young
boy steadied himself, his eyes swimming in and out of focus as small
pinpoints of light danced in the darkness of his thoughts. He struggled
back against the cold, unrelenting wall, excruciating pain twisting
around the fringes of his brittle consciousness. Slowly, and with
no real clarity, the memories returned. They had done things to
him this time; things that he couldn't begin to understand. In the
room that held the monstrous, inhuman devices, they had taken away
most of what had made him whole. Not only that - this time, they
had taken his sanity. He giggled in spite of himself, ignoring the
pain. There would be no escape; he knew that it would only be a
matter of time before they discovered the gifts that the voices
had given him. Soon, they would come and take him again to the room
of the Machines. They would find out all his secrets and then he
would be like all the rest. He glanced at the overripe figures huddled
in the darkness. Most he had known long before they came to this
place; he had brought them here himself. A few he had even known
when they were actually alive. He gazed at the warped shapes strewn
with indifference across the hateful room, chuckling to himself
as his vision cleared. The decaying piles of quasi-humanity held
no terror for his deep, brown eyes. He was used to dead things.
At one time, he and his father had been the best! They had always
found the choicest, most undisturbed spots for their excavations.
No other salvage crew could make such a claim! Yes, their discoveries
had been the envy of the slag. Findings such as theirs had brought
a good price and the Others had been well pleased by their successes.
Many of their jealous rivals had attempted to follow them on their
excursions but all had failed. He and his father had been very careful,
back then it was a matter of self-preservation. Now, it no longer
mattered. None of it did; they would come for him soon.
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He brushed
back a lock of his filthy, black hair, wincing as fiery pain erupted
from his right hand. Lifting the hand slowly to his face, his breath
coming in short, ragged gasps, he tried to focus on the cause of the
agony. It was a greenish, oblong device, hatefully repugnant, extending
outward from in-between the second and third tendons. Pulsating dreadfully
in the darkness, it sent out tendrils of noxious steam as it burned
itself inward. The flesh surrounding it was swollen and angry, already
beginning to fester in the dank air of the basement cubicle. Gripping
the wrist tightly with his left hand, he rested his head back against
the concrete wall, feeling the wires bristling from the back of his
scalp as he concentrated on leaving the pain behind. The voices had
taught him that. Through clenched teeth he barked out a series of
sobs. Then, he was no longer there; he was in the secret place where
the sunflowers bloomed at midnight. Around him were the sounds of
the voices, whispering in the air, telling him things. They no longer
caused him any discomfort; it had long since faded into the background,
just as the voices said it would. A sigh escaped his slackened lips.
Floating on a bed of wintry needles, he saw the room as if from a
great distance. Looking down, his thoughts drifted like ashes on the
wind, traveling back through memories of days gone by.
The city had once been beautiful, or
so his dad had told him. Long ago, it had been a proud place where
millions of people had lived together. Then, after the destruction,
it had become a place of fear and loathing. The Others controlled
what was left of the decimated metropolis, preying on the weak, hiring
those who were strong enough to seek out the information and equipment
they desired. Mostly, they wanted bodies. Preferably intact, not necessarily
fresh, they paid well for any pieces salvaged from the wreckage of
the torn and beaten down buildings. For what purposes, no one could
guess and, unsurprisingly, no one really cared. In the harsh, new
world of the blackened streets it was hard to survive and people did
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