mcs - c100-u3-m6

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

mcs is a televised death game where criminals and others in debt are placed to erase their debt or serve their time.
this is one contestants story.

Data whirred around inside the machine. It was moved. My eyes opened from the darkness. I saw the creatures emerging from the crevices of rot covered, broken buildings overgrown in oil spills that found their way through the cracking concrete, spreading like a virus through the rusting metal forests.

The creatures had faces like men, only far too hollow. The only thing behind the beast’s eyes were memories - reflections of the screens that led them into their sickening addiction, and eventually their total collapse. Soullessly they walked. Their skin fell from their bodies polluting the ground and air as it flaked off with fluid followed more frequently than not.

Scavengers in plain clothes patrolled the peripherals of their presence. They took the flesh things and ingested them in any which way possible, be it oral or injection. For a moment they looked to be in bliss. Upon consumption their constant twitching came to a sudden halt. The deformed growths that littered their scarred and fragile bodies were healed at a ungodly pace. The abomination of their forms were cured, if only momentarily, however, some were unable to stabilise. Their bodies began to overcompensate. The skin sutures holding together their flayed flesh began to pull further into the bodies of their patients. The self-healing flesh controlled itself independently of the bodily process, like small parasites creating the perfect host of its victim. The twisted flesh wrapping around without pause. The bones broke. The blood spilled over. The addict became a beast like the rest of the flayed things. It joined the pack to further the spread. Their senses focused in on my direction.

Heads turned and nostrils flared - ears pricked up and primed themselves for detection. I hid behind the heaps of scrap scattered across the area. They creatures were aware of me. They were yet to confirm my position, yet still, they could feel me, sense me, needed me. They wanted me to need them too. I had taken their medicine once. Mutagens they called it. Whatever it was, it was more than a cure. It was freedom. Enhancement. Ascendency by means of mind fog. I could do more, be more, I was more, but I couldn’t think. I only wanted more. I only wanted others to try it. I got off the stuff. These things however were unregulated horrors set to continue their cult of self-destruction. I crawled behind the rusted metal scrap.

Old industrial machinery, broken vehicles, whatever was once important was now instead my cover and defence. I took the lightest and most dangerous looking scrap I could, arming myself against their incoming attack as I looked for a place to retreat too. A building to my right with a closed door. It looked weak, rusted, easy to enter. I crawled keeping a low profile with low sound. I didn’t want to be noticed. My breathing was heavy and short, the same pace as my beating heart, the pain in my chest squeezing further, my body feeling a pressure from above, crushing me into the ground, while also, my body felt a lifting, the adrenaline forcing me up as if I was floating. My fear was great, but not yet debilitating. Although I struggled to focus on my goal, I urged my body forward, step after step, walking grounded toward the door of the to my right.

“Hey!” I heard I shout from the roof above me. A man stood above wearing the clothes of both a noble and peasant. He held a rod in his hand and lifted it. He let it go and backed away. It fell. A crash as it landed in front of me. The creatures were aware. They looked towards me in an instant and began to run towards me. I ran as fast as I possibly could towards the door on my right. They pursued. They were closing in. I grabbed the handle. Locked! I kicked at the door. I beat it. Tears flowed from my eyes. I smashed at it. I cracked it. I rammed into it. I did anything I could. The creatures were close. Closer. Closer. They were behind me. Their teeth like jagged edges ripping in serrated ripple flow as saliva dripped down to the ground beneath. They wanted me. They charged. The door opened. I looked toward my hope. A machine in the form of a man. It shot from the gun in his hand and grabbed me with the other, flinging me inside the building in one fluid motion. The door slammed shut. The machine lifted me to my feet, carrying me as it ran further into the building, up stairs and through the crevices. The creatures continued to pursue. The machine fired at the creatures as they chased. Their flesh scattered through the halls once meeting with the bullets, like miniature explosions, controlled, only rivalled in light by blood spread, the white and the red competing for space in my eyes. We ran up the flights of stairs until reaching a door. Drones stood in wait, machines whirring as bullets left the system, spraying the creatures to absolute decimation. Nothing was left but the food for the vagrants ever following along, eating the scraps like rats for survival. They got their fix.

We stopped in the room behind the drones - door closed. The machine placed me down by his feet. Another man, no, perhaps he was more machine than man, sat plugged into multiple systems, computers, monitors and more. The machine that had saved me made demands. “Name and number.”

“What?” I asked. 

“Name and number.”

“I don’t…” Before I could finish talking the machine held my head in his hands and pulled my eyelids apart from one another, keeping them intact but in severe discomfort.

“C-100. U-3. M-6.” The Machine said. “You are with me. We are allied. I am Cohort-100. Unit-2. Member-1. For short, C1-2-1. This is my unit. That is M-2. C100-U2-M2. Most are dead. You are fresh. Find your unit. They are searching for you. I’ll turn on your eyes.” The machine stayed still for a moment, still holding my head in his hands, and then, the world became clear. I saw the eyes of my allies through my own. I saw our goal. Each member in the 100-Cohort shared their vision with me. It was too much to handle. I saw my self from the machine’s eyes. I began to shut down. I began to panic. My eyes saw less and less and less until I could cope again. “Too much information for your small mind. You and your unit know where each other are. Find them. Follow orders. Once used to it, they can expand you further. My unit only takes those that can see. No transfer.” I could sense where my allies were. They were close, but I could reach them. “Enemy is always watching us. Be vigilant. Live free.” I listened well. C1-2-1 handed me a gun. Scrap laden and nearly destroyed. I took it and thanked him, nodding as I left. 

The walk was long. This time I was able to hide from the beasts that roamed the Mutagenic-cyber-slum. I saw from a distance communities in the nonsense. They sat about smiling, singing songs, living comfortably. I also saw their demise. One ruined by the mutants. One by the machines. One by man and his commanding authority. I saw nomads roaming free on the backs of tamed beasts. I kept my distance from all. In order to stay safe I took the long way around. My allies were getting further and further away, but I had to avoid conflict. I had walked long enough to move into a new territory. The creatures here were more aware. They walked with purpose. I had to avoid them with any cost. They noticed me. I rushed into the closet building, hoping I would find any recourse inside. Engines hummed an electric glow, like a tape moving slow or a gentle loose light bulb. I walked in further. A door in the floor hidden beneath rubble. I moved it all as quickly as I could. The sound became clearer. I opened the door closing it behind me, the creatures screaming as they pursued. I bared the door with anything I could. I rushed down the stairs beneath me. Another door. I entered and locked it behind me, seeing the creatures following as I did so.

The sound echoed. The room was lit only by a glowing green, red and blue. I looked to source of the light. Above me, beside me, anywhere they could fit stood machines with chambers the size of a coffin. I investigated as the creatures continued to claw at the door from the outside. Inside were bodies, naked in form. I saw myself. An exact copy. I looked to the monitor as my heart beat its rapid sinking feeling. It was me. It was exactly me. C-100. U-3. M-6. I opened the chamber. I looked under its eyes. It was the same. I become lost in my thoughts. “No. This is wrong. This is unacceptable. I have to kill them. I have to stop this.” I let the gun fire until there were no bullets left. I took hold of the rubble that resulted and smashed the rest. I destroyed it all as quickly as I could. The light faded, only my chamber and the monitor beside it remained, the body inside already dead. I had done it, but now I felt weak. I wasn’t just exhausted, it was something else. My whole body starting to stop in basic function. It slowed down. My breathing became pained and claustrophobic. My eyes were closing. The monitor fell down beside me, the only thing still functioning. “C-100, U-3, M-6 confirmed failure. Defective mind pending transfer. Location found. Transferring.” My eyes faded. Data whirred about inside the machine. It was moved.

My eyes opened from the darkness. 


Submitted: March 20, 2020

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