This Town Is Your Grave - Innerpartysystem
“You shouldn’t have done that, you’re lucky you gave her the antidote at the right time”, the voice speaking as female but it had a deadly sweet ring to it. “You had no right to use her before her prime.”
“Oh shut up, Mary”, the man snarled, “she’s nothing special we all saw that.”
“You had no right to attack her, we don’t know if she’s special or not.” A wiser, older voice said.
“None of them are special! None of them are immortal!” the younger man said, angry and petulant, “There all so fucking useless! We should just kill ‘em! The public is waiting, do you hear them? Rioting in the streets? They want blood! I heard a child, a child mind you, yelling for them to “chop ‘em in the guillotine”! They want them dead and so do I!”
Footsteps shuffled closer to whom I presumed was the male and the female named Mary said softly, “No one blames you for marrying a vampire, it could’ve happened to any of us. Be thankful that the baby has no shown any devilish powers.”
“We will have to kill the child if it does.” The older man said, “We can’t let another generation start. At least not one from a non-tainted male, be lucky, my friend. Your name is still clean on the slate of life.”
Someone made a noise of recognition.
“Should we start the testing?” Mary asked from a different position, her voice sounded closer to my face.
“Only if you think that she is completely under the anesthesia.”
“Does it matter if she is not?”
“Not really, she wouldn’t feel it either way.”
“Why does it have to be painless…” the younger male muttered.
“This is a simple procedure, when she wakes we will do the oral examination.” The older man said.
“Should we bring in the interns?”
“No, no. Leave them were they are.”
“I don’t even know why we have interns,” Mary scoffed, “but of idiots they are. They don’t know the difference between a latte and mocha but they can remove the entrails from a number and put them back in ten minutes flat. Useless, I tell you. Simply useless.”
The wiser man laughed, “You at one time were a blue ribbon to you know, give them time. They will learn.”
Mary snorted, “But when? God, it doesn’t take two years figure out that I like my cappuccinos with cinnamon, if one more person gives me nutmeg, I swear I will throw them into a cell with Number 01468.”
The younger man laughed, “Wouldn’t last ten minutes with that savage would they?”
“Course not,” Mary laughed, “They’d die in about two. We’ve condition him well.”
“What about number 15073?” the wise man asked seriously, a still silence followed, deafening and thick. “What? You laugh at one but not the other?”
“Number 15073 is different, something’s special about that one.” Mary whispered, ashamed.
“And the fact that you’re scared shitless by it means nothing right, Mary?” the younger man said.
“It’s a freak of nature, whatever that fucking thing is, it tried to…tried to.” Mary whimpered.
“You know exactly what it is.” The older man said solemnly, “We created it…and we created it wrong.”
“It wasn’t our fault!” the younger man said, “How were we supposed to know that would happen?”
“Because putting dead body parts on a combined lump of flesh is never a good idea!” the older man snarled, “Your ignorance put us in danger once I will not let you do it again with her!”
“We don’t need her!” the younger man sneered, slamming his hand against the table that I lied on, “We have millions of others here, around the world, we’re putting them into extinction!”
“We need their immortality!” Mary yelled.
“We need to create new humans!” the older growled.
The hair on the back of my stood on end as a new voice spoke and all three gasped, “We are not here for any of that.”
It was a male voice, a cold, menacing male voice that put ice on the walls and froze my mind. I could barely breathe from the chilling aura the man brought into the room. I heard the clicking for shoes from against the stone floor and he leaned closer to me.
“Give her an additional 600 grams of anesthesia.”
The older man gasped, “You can’t be serious. It could kill it!”
“Good,” the younger man said.
The new male said nothing, “Mary?”
“I think we should just do the surgery without it, she won’t feel anything.”
“Don’t call it a ‘she’, Mary it doesn’t exist. Remember?”
The room erupted with things like, “what?” and “not existing?” even, “What the hell are you talking about?”
The new male laughed, “Nothing, nothing. Let’s leave this game up to chance, shall we?”
I could tell that everyone was glancing around fearfully, wondering what other important decisions had been put to chance.
“Heads it gets the 600 grams of anesthesia and tails it gets none.”
“You can’t possibly put something as important as this up to chance!” The older man said.
“Hmm…” the male said sarcastically, “your right…but oh wait? You see this? This
badge right here? This badge is better than your ribbon. You idiots don’t you get it?” He paused for a second and laughed, “Fine, you will never get it I suppose.”
I heard rustling and the male’s voice again, “Okay, ready everyone?”
No one spoke.
“If we don’t get ready for this game, we’ll pay another but instead of a game on medicine; it’ll be a game on your lives. I can see it now; spin the knife…sounds fun huh?” He paused, I could imagine the fearful looks on their faces, “Right then. Everyone ready?”
A chorus of ‘yes’ rang through the air.
Because of the silence, I knew that the man was throwing a coin into the air, and when a soft pat and a contented, yet sinister sigh came from his lips, I thought he lost.
“Looks like you all lose…again.”
“Is that a trick quarter?” The younger man asked angrily.
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters you-“
“Shut up, Neil.” Mary said quickly, “Shut up. Just let it go.”
It sounded like she was holding him back.
The man chuckled, “You might want to listen to her, Neil. Wouldn’t want your beautiful daughter to be mistaken for a damned one do you?”
“Say something, Neil.” The man taunted, “Say something.”
I felt a sharp prick in my arm and did not hear if the younger man spoke or not because I drifted off to sleep….
Hours later, I woken up by being dumped onto a rather uncomfortable couch with six people surrounding me, two of those people, had guns pointed at my face. My eyes widened in shock and immediate fear as my adrenaline began to pump through me, the fight or flight trigger begging to be pulled.
I barely noticed the wires hooked up to my head until I heard a different voice from before say, “Okay, lower your weapons.”
The two men did as they were told, both wearing lovat green berets.
“Good Afternoon, Number 01249. My name is Doctor Taro.” The man had a blue ribbon wrapped around his wrist as he spoke, laughed lines were at the corners of his mouth but he had young youthful eyes.
Deep down, we both knew that was not happy, but we all have a charade that we need to keep. I face that needs to say molded, a disguise that we are never allowed to take off. A doctor that I previously had seen before and his assistant stood in the corner of the room, scribbling on their clipboards furiously, Dr. Cattell had a fascinated look on his face and for a second, I wondered why.
I put my fingers to my lips and realized I was no longer smiling. I took of my mask, my costume, and my lies. I was only me. The real me.
My emotions were my own, not my father’s, not my mother’s, not my brother’s, not the one they expected of me. But my own.
I sat still, lightly touching my lips, feeling the chapped broken skin and I winced and pulled my finger back quickly, a red droplet slid down my fingers and dropped onto the floor. I looked between the floor and the doctor and the lovat green berets.
I moved slowly, lifting my arms above my head, testing out what was painful and what was not.
The doctor seemed to know what I was doing, “We will set your bones for you soon, you’ll have to deal with the rib pain.”
I opened my mouth, Dr. Cattell and his assistant sat on the edge of their seats, the girl scribbling things down even in the silence.
I closed my mouth again and sat back.
“We’re going to be here awhile.” Dr. Taro glared angrily at me for a second and then turned to look at another doctor, hovered over a machine with a needle that drew lines across a paper and a 3-D image of a brain, “What do you see?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“What the hell do you mean, you don’t know?” Dr. Taro snarled.
Yep, with that attitude, those youthful eyes will die in about two weeks time. I’ll bet my life on it.
“Something’s wrong with the machine.” The man said.
“You idiot, these are brand new! Top of the line! Why the hell would there be something wrong with the machine?”
“Because it’s saying that she’s lying and she hasn’t even spoken a word!”
Dr. Cattell stepped in, it still wasn’t the voice that I heard in the old room, “Are you sure it’s hooked up correctly, if those orange wires are anywhere near a red wire it shorts out the frequency detector and the wavelengths cross. You might be receiving brain activity, Elias.”
“No, I checked that. There’s something wrong with the machine.” Dr. Taro sighed, “Cheap pieces of shit, we’ve got more money coming in than any other corporation and we still get shitty machines. Great load of—”
“Shut up with that language, Taro.” Dr. Cattell said, “No one has time to hear you curse like a sailor, you don’t have a sailor job.”
“I know I’m not a motherfu—whatever.”
“Regardless of the malfunction, just write down the EEG’s…we’ve already gotten the CT scan done, and we’ll get those results back soon enough. What we need to do now is get her to talk.”
“Talk ya little bastard,” said one of the lovat green berets as he winked, “Talk and we’ll show you a good time around your cell.”
The two soldiers laughed.
“That’s vile,” shouted Dr. Cattell’s assistant, “Does your mother know you say that?”
“My mother was killed by one of them,” snarled the soldier, “fucking little bitch.”
“Enough.” Dr. Cattell stated, “I’ve had enough. You soldiers, out of here. Give me guns,” the soldiers looked upset, “Yes, both of you, guns. Right now or I’m calling the General!” Both soldiers dropped their guns with a clatter to the floor. “Good, now get out. Now.”
The soldiers stalked off, angrily, shooting icy glares at me and showing his middle finger to Dr. Cattell.
Dr. Cattell shook his head, pulled out a walkie-talkie from his waistband and spoke into it, “Hello, Lieutenant General Cohen? Doctor Cattell here, I’m having a problem with two of your men, Oliver Kennedy and Christopher Jardin, please remove them…only if you think it's necessary...Fifteen would be nice, Thank you. I will keep in touch; you have a good day now and say hello to the wife and kids for me.”
Dr. Cattell clicked off the walkie-talkie and not even ten seconds later, a rush of footsteps were heard outside the door,
“What are you doing?”
“What the fuck is going on, man? You can’t do this! You can’t do this to me!”
“Gerrof me! Stop! STOP!”
The voices died down the further they were dragged down the hallway.
Fifteen shots rang through the air and then, silence.
All eyes turned back to me. I shuddered.
Dr. Cattell motioned for Dr. Taro to move and he followed obediently but angrily. Dr. Cattell sat down in front of me his fingers pointed like a steeple as he spoke, “You have to do this, you heard me, you can hear everything, you have excellent hearing, I’ve studied just how much you can hear with those lovely little ears of yours. Now, you will talk. I will not torture you or even touch you. But if you want that little heart in your chest to continue beating, I would speak.” He pulled out the walkie-talkie, “The same way that I took care of them, I can take care of you. I can even help you. Do you want some more food?”
“Do you want something cool to drink when you’re hot, something hot to drink when your cold?”
Once again, I nodded.
“Do you want a bathroom, a shower, a sink?”
I nodded again, this time vigorously.
“Do you know why you want that before your other needs? Like safety?”
I shook my head no.
“It’s a part of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, Abraham Maslow was a psychologist.”
Psychologist, I thought, had a certain ring to it. It sounded…vaguely familiar.
“This psychologist created a pyramid on what humans put as their priorities, you’ll be more likely to cooperate if you have fresh food, water, and you’re clean. Am I correct?”
The only thing he left out was if I would live. That’s all I care about. I just want to live. I nodded again.
“Good, I can get all of these things for you.”
I stared at him skeptically.
“But you have to do one thing for me.”
I furrowed my eyebrows questioningly at him and he continued, “You have to speak and if you don’t speak, you nor your cell mates will receive any food. And you’re…” he glanced at his clipboard, “Brother, number 81011 will live if you speak. But…if you don’t speak by sundown, we’ll kill him. If you don’t speak by tomorrow morning, we’ll kill Tabatha, and so on and so forth. You understand.”
I nodded again.
Dr. Cattell smiled deviously and clapped his hands together, “I’ll leave you to think.” He motioned for everyone to leave the room and they all filed out, “You can handle taking off those wires right? They pull right off.”
I glared at him and he smirked, “Right, remember” he spoke his last word in a sing-song voice, “Sundown.”
I sat on the couch, stunned to silence; I smirked slightly at the irony. I reached a shaky hand toward my head and pulled away the wires. I didn’t know what to do, what to think. Of course I wanted food and drink but did I want it for them? Did I want it for those moochers known as cellmates, those…family members?
Of course I didn’t.
Who would want them to take away my food, my life, my] nourishment? It’s always been about [/them. Well their lives lie in my hands now. How dare they ask this of me? They all should know the answer.
I hate them. I hate them all. Let them all burn in hell.
I stood up and absently wrapped the wire around my fingers. I tightened it, letting the wire cut off my circulation until my fingers felt numb.
No, I don’t hate them. I can’t hate them.
I stood up and walked toward the machine, standing over the graph and the needle as it slowed to a stop, I unraveled the cord and let my rough, dirty fingers graze the side of the graph. My eyes trailed to the needle, that shiny needle.
These are my emotions now, my thoughts, my beliefs, my dreams.
And I dream of better days, of better hours, of better people. I dream of magic and beauty, of power and money.
But the thing I dream of the most is death and music, the sound of the rain submitting to my will, my power, my absolutism. I dream of the sky bleeding my name. I dream of the flowers and trees blooming for me.
I dream of the oceans polluting, the ozone to fading away, for global warming to kill us all, for the world to end…just as it began, in chaos and destruction.
I dream of causing it.
I let my fingers touch the cool metal of the needle.
But of course, it’s just a dream.
For a minute, I wondered if people were watching me, if there was a camera, a wall that held a mirror on the other side, of course they would be watching me.
Why wouldn’t they watch me?
I glanced around the room suspiciously, wondering if someone was there.
No, they couldn’t be watching me, they are hurting Pete, preparing to persecute Tabatha. It’s an Inquisition I tell you, an inquisition to root out the damned ones, the vampires, the werewolves, and the other creatures.
I plucked the needle from its holding place and held it tightly in my hand; my thoughts were racing, planning.
But before I really even began, I stopped.
There’s no need for a plan, they will kill us, regardless of if I speak or not. The only plan I could possibly come up with is ‘don’t die’. But that’s not a plan, that’s never a plan. That’s why Pete fails, because he wants to plan; he wants to live, for everyone to live.
I opened my palm again, staring at the little needle, the little useless needle.
Just like me.
The only way to succeed is to know everyone will die. The only way to win is to sacrifice everyone, to know that their life is worthless, another body, and another soul to use, to control.
They don’t mean anything to me and neither does a plan. They know every move before you do, that’s why I can’t plan that’s why we can never escape because someone always wants a plan, they can see the idea written plainly across your face, hours, days, weeks, months before you even begin to plan it.
Because one day, everyone snaps.
One day, you get so fed up. One day you feel so fucked up. One day…one day.
Today is not my day.
I haven’t snapped, I assured myself of this as I stood calmly, holding the needle in my dirty, filthy, betraying hands.
No, I haven’t. The world will know when I’ve snapped. This isn’t the end for me. Maybe for Pete, maybe for Tabatha.
But not for me.
I looked down at the needle and slipped it into my pocket.
But my day is coming.
My day is coming soon.
But I’m tired. I’m sick and tired, I’m tired and sick.
I’m tired of feeling so fucked up and screwed over.
I’m tired of this shit.
Of the tests, the demands, the wires, the graphs, the IVs, the medicine.
I’m tired of it all.
I haven’t snapped but I’m close.
I just need one more push.
Just a tap. I’m already at the edge of sanity, someone just throw me over the fucking edge! I want to plunge straight into the darkness, I want to feel the madness, I want to get drunk off delirium!
I want it!
I griped the wires tighter my long, ragged nails cutting into my skin, blood droplets appearing on the tips of my nails like a bloody French manicure.
Giggling, I looked wildly around the room, opening my mouth and I mouthed so many words.
Words that I could never say aloud, words that were nonsense and crazy, hurtful and insane. I giggled as my eyes darken with hatred, with fervor, with ire and rage.
I could feel it, my own brain tipping me over the edge, throwing my arms wide as I went to freefall from that cliff to insanity.
My home, my blissful home.
Tabatha sat whimpering in the corner, cuddled close to Joe while muttering, “Don’t die. Please don’t die, you’re stronger than this. I love you…please, stay awake for me. Don’t let those guards touch me…if you’re here I can stay with you, be with you, and love only you.”
Tears were trailing down her cheeks as stroked her fingers through his hair and kissing his cheek, “Please, stay with me. Stay with me, please.”
Patrick sat next to her, fearful of what to do, who was he? A no one, he wasn’t Pete, thank God he wasn’t PJ.
He glared at Joe from the corner of his eye and watch as his sister whispered lies of a future, of marriage, of children. The things that would never exist. Not for him. Not for anyone.
He wanted to scoff. If Joe was conscious he would’ve seen through the lies, they all knew that there was no escape, no exit. There was no life outside these walls.
Tabatha and Joe both glanced at each other as they heard the locks click back and the large, heavy concrete door was pushed open. Andy sniffed the air and panted as he saw the doctor entered the room, the doctor threw something toward him and it landed with a plop on the ground and Andy ate it off the floor happily.
Tabatha cringed as she watched her friend and cuddled closer to Joe, while Patrick glared and stared at the concrete floor, avoiding the doctor’s eye.
The doctor cleared his throat as he entered the room, alone, “I’ve made a deal with you’re…” he consulted his list, “friend.”
“Pete!” Tabatha cried, reaching out and grasping Joe’s hand, “Thank God he’s alive.”
The doctor continued, “No, the other.”
Patrick paled considerably; he looked on the edge of a faint.
“Sir…please…please, what kind of deal, sir?” Tabatha begged.
“She must speak before sundown, or else we’ll kill your…” he glanced down at the list again, “your other friend, her brother.”
Tabatha let go of Joe and buried her face into Joe’ shoulder, he whimpered silently.
“Pete…oh god, Pete.”
“And then you, girl.” The doctor glanced down again making sure his assumption was correct, “Yes, we’ll kill you next and then him, the blonde.”
“What about me?” Patrick said squeakily, wishing that it didn’t turn out that way, “What’ll happen to me?”
The doctor chuckled, “We decided to leave him,” he pointed to Andy, “To decide that.”
Patrick sniffled quietly while Andy growled threateningly.
“But, on the bright side,” the doctor said, “If she does speak, you all will receive food, water, and a bathroom to share.”
Tabatha’s eyes lit up, “Do we have…a bed?”
The doctor roared with laughter and Tabatha and Patrick shrunk against the wall in fear, “Who do you think you are? Humans?” He laughed again, “Of course you don’t get beds you ignorant mutants. Of course you don’t, you get what I said, food, water and a bathroom to share. What? You think that because there’s a chance you don’t die, you’re moving up on the ladder?”
He laughed again like someone told a hilarious joke, “You idiots, you really don’t understand what’s going on here do you?”
There was a pause, a breathless pause.
He started again, “You don’t, do you?”
No one moved.
“Just remember that you’re lives will be over at twilight, sundown, the dawn of the night, the shadow time, whatever you demons want to call it.” The doctor smirked, “If I were you, I would get yourselves right with God, because that thing isn’t talking. You’re all going to die. “He pointed at Patrick and laughed, “Have fun.”
He backed out of the room, with a creepy smile reminiscent of a friend who all their lives rested on. The concrete door slammed shut with a loud, menacing close.
Raise your hand is you hate PJ.
Caro: Thanks :D Pete's the tragic hero. Andy can't really help it. ahaha PJ's strong alright.
Natalie: eep, sorry for the wait! Thank you!
_nox_: Thank you! :D
Xnataliex: ahaha thank you so much!
Caffrin: Damn, thanks. Glad you like it :D
Chicago-Kid: eh don't worry. I can be the same sometimes. Don't be sorry, that was my favorite part to write.
let_it_go: Thank you so much! :D