:::Autistic Futuristic::: {Short Story}

Disclaimer: the following story has written depictions of horror, gore and philosophical posturing. Please be sure you are okay with this kind of thing before you read on. Thanks


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Date: 23:34pm, November 12th.
Location: Sector 16. An abandoned old house.

They sat; compacted into a small circle, facing one another, looking into each other's faces - eyes too frightened to hide.

Worry, anxiety, fear: a feeling of inevitability pervaded them all. Resignation for an event that would ultimately happen, for that there was no doubt.

Above them, a small light floated in the darkness; a beam of faint light opening up the floor, dancing shadows flickering across their fearful faces.

Gary looked across at his brother. Damian looked back at him, a twitch, a sudden spasm in the corner of his mouth - but the smile wouldn't emerge. The lines around his mouth were frozen; swamped in the putrid stasis of all that he had seen in his lifetime. He was already dead, he knew it, he was tired of waiting for it, waiting for time to reach him. Gary wanted to reach across the divide and grip his arm, tightly, looking into his eyes and telling him to not give up, to fight.

But hope is just a feeling, and the only feeling he had ever known, was pain. Hope; faith in dreams cannot stand in a world where dreams lie beneath the ruins of mankind's very destruction.

"How many do you have"

It was Marco. He stared unnaturally, sunken white skin, submerged underneath the light. His eyes forced themselves into Gary, their cold protuberance of misery pleading him to respond, not because he wanted, or needed an answer, but because he wanted a connection within the timeless vaccum of suspense that permeated the group.

The air; atmosphereless - it tasted of blood. Gary looked down at his gun, and flicked a switch.

"7 rounds" He said.

Marco nodded, he blinked quickly, diverting his line of sight to the far wall. Gary wondered what he saw there. He realised, he was probably better off not knowing. He realised he too was staring, at the light, it's dull glow boring into his skull..but it was preferable to the darkness. Nightmares resided beyond the black canvas of the dark, pushing themselves through it, incessantly; the unrelenting hunger for human destruction neverending.

"I think we need to leave soon"

It was Sarah. The group switched their attention to her. She sat a little way away from the rest of the group, her back against the wall, her hands rested in her lap, an expression of feverent anguish scrawled over her drawn face. Eyes locked open - misty pools of green confusion, the questions had long since stopped mattering. Confusion over why. Why everything was the way it was, and why it was not..something else. Why? Something in her eyes was still waiting for an answer. Maybe it was delusion, maybe it was false hope yet, still, it was the reason why she still persisted in bothering.

"They...they will come..we have to keep moving" she added.

Marco laughed, suddenly, unexpectedly. It was a psychotic laugh, but such laughs were commonplace in these times and in this world. Marco slapped his thigh.

"They come..oh yes, of course they do. That's what they do. So fricking what?"

He carried on laughing.

"But we must.."

Marco stopped laughing, an abruptness that Gary found unsettling. Marco rubbed his eyes; tears...cascading down his cheeks. He leaned towards Sarah. He didn't speak, he just leaned his face into hers and peered deeply into her eyes. Silence.

A few moments passed, and then Marco looked away, shaking his head with unnatural sway. His mouth shuddered. His hands vibrated as he pushed them into the floor. He opened his mouth to speak, the sound that exited out through his mouth was one of pure emotion, but the words did not have time to form.

A crash. An unbelievable, horrific scream, a shrill that spoke of pain which should not have reason to exist yet did. Gary looked across through the darkness; large metal arms, rotating and drilling silently had opened up Sarahs stomach, spewing liquid and dripping lumps of flesh flew through the air. The opening enlarged until there was no longer any abdomen left, just a segmented skeleton with sarahs gaping head loosely attached, bobbing. It fell off.

It had happened in mere seconds. The arm crashed through the wall, grinding what was left of sarah into pieces, peices which splattered the walls and ceilings..the group couldn't move. Sarah was all over them.

"You mother fricking shibag!"

The machine was now inside, Marco was firing his gun, shrieking insanely, standing in front of the machine without fear. Again and again he fired, the bullets cutting through mechanical sinew and electrical circuitry. He jumped backwards as an arm extended and made a grab for his head, rolling sideways on the floor as another arm appeared out of nowhere and barely missed his kneecaps.

"Humans; your termination is imminent. Comply."

It rolled forwards, a flurry of arms grabbing and reaching for marco's head, the intent to squash and destroy it's only one. Damian was crouching in the corner, unloading his px-50 into the machine, round after round hitting the machines visaul display screen.

An explosion. The group had done this before, they knew how to take down the machines. The machine no longer had the ability to see, the drilling stopped, the arms stopped moving...

"Humans, your termination is inevitable. Comply with termination"

Gary hadn't moved. He still sat, motionless, at the far side of the room, gazing at what was left of his wife. He didn't understand it, one minute she was alive, the next she was just pieces - he was paralyzed with mystified confusion. Damian picked him up; he was limp, he couldn't move - his brother carried him outside. They walked a short distance away from the house, the red sky looming above them, marco stopped, turned around and pressed a button on a pad he was holding.

The house evaporated into a ball of flame, A slight shockwave knocked marco off his feet, he fell onto his back. Within seconds, the house had disappeared..reduced to ruin. The landscape was now fully barren, brown and deserted.

"Let's go back"

It was Marco; smiling, dual berettas in both his hands. His eyes were pointing to the horizon, glazed yet focused. He didn't look psychotic..he looked human, and...alive.

"Why?" Damian held his hands up, his face questioning.

Marco continued smiling. "Because, i want to fight for my survival. To fight, is to have hope"

"Do you want to die?"

Marco sat down on the ground, he glanced into the red, burnt sky, and there his vision stayed and lingered..

"If there is no hope, then death has no value until there is. If you do not value your world, then to live is a hopeless task."

Gary looked up. "You realise of course, that it's suicide"

"Yes"

Gary smiled, he unpacked his shotgun and stood up. He took a deep breath, glancing at his brother who was crouching on the floor, frowning as he fiddled with his shoelaces.

"Let's go".

They walked back to the city.

THE END

Or maybe,

To be continued...