Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > My name is

Guys like you

by Mynameisnotimportant 0 Reviews

Not everybody likes A.I. unit. Don't trust strangers.

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Sci-fi - Characters:  - Warnings: [?] - Published: 2011/09/16 - Updated: 2011/09/17 - 1053 words

<<
>>
I find a dusty road, it’s paved and all, I just follow it. Like there’s gonna be Dr. Death-Defying at the the end of it, waiting with Gerard, and they’ll be happy to see me.
As long as I’m dreaming, I would like a bike. To get across this damn desert faster.

I’m sweating so bad, and I am in a bad mood. A Venomous mood. Like, radioactive. Because I have to trek through this godforsaken desert, which means staying out in the sun for a very long time. NO SUN NO SUN NO SUN! ME NO LIKEE SUN!
I want to shout and scream and act like a four year old, because I’m pouty and overheated and the sun is hurting my eyes. I am a vampire stuck in the sun. I am MISERABLE.
My new black dress is soaked, and I’ve stuffed my kitty hoodie into my backpack. I’m probably getting a tan on top of all this, too. What a freakin’ bummer.

Then I hear the whisper of tires on the road behind me. I get a mini heart attack/aneurysm, thinking it’s the Better Living folks come to drag my fabulous ass back to Battery City.
Good thing we caught you. You almost had fun there. Back to the Paper city with you.
But it’s not a Better Living van.
Matter of fact, it looks like a van painted by ten year olds riding the acid train. And then was puked on by a rainbow.
“Hey you! Wanna ride? We got water and stuff,” the driver shouts. She’s pretty, with light brown hair and a white sundress, with a dash of freckles across her nose.
“I dunno...”
A guy from the back of the van pops up to the front. He’s got a big black beard and really crooked teeth. “Hey, it’s alright! We’re all friends out here!”
Now, I’d like to lecture all children out there. And possibly take down the fourth wall. If you are a child, GTFO. I don’t want you here. You annoy the crap outta me. Go grow up.
If you are an idiot or have godawful parents, listen up to wise young sexy Dexter:
DO NOT GET INTO A VEHICLE WITH PEOPLE YOU DON’T KNOW.
Even if they seem nice. Do not do it. Like, ever. Bad idea.

They stop and open the back of the van, and I hop in, letting the cool a/c roll over me. Yes. So good. “Thanks it’s really nice of you guys to give me a ride,” I tell them, and look around at all of them. There’s beard guy, driving girl, and two other guys.
“What’s your name?” one of them asks.
“Dexter.”
“Coolio. You want water?” he holds out a bottle of water to me.
“Nah. I can’t drink it. I’ll break.”
His smile flickers, and the atmosphere turns sour. “What?” Beard Guy growls at me.
“I’m an A.I. unit. Dexter 2246890,” I tell him, letting him know my serial number too. Just like that everybody goes silent. I don’t know why, but I figure I can just unmelt it.
“You guys are okay with that...right?” I ask, nervously.
Beard Guy sighs. “Listen, Dexter. Things like you aren’t supposed to exist.”
My heart nearly stops. “Things?”
“It’s not like you’re a person.”
Well, that was a sucker punch to the kidneys. Thanks for the water.
“Oh. Wow.”
“You kill people.”
“Well, I don’t, the Government does.”
The woman driving stops the car.
“Out.”
I start to say something, but then everybody in the car starts chanting it.
“OUT! OUT! OUT!”
I’m worried. Not terrified. If anything, I just have to walk more, following that radio signal.
“Hey, who’d you say you’re looking for again?” The driver girl spits at me. “Doctor Death Defying,” I respond, squinting through the sun.
Then everything goes hostile. “Oh boy. Battery City boy looking for Doctor D, huh? Wanna become a Killjoy, kid? Cuz us, we don’t like Killjoys,” a guy who with a backwards baseball cap says. “I don’t even know what a Killjoy is,” I say, backing up. The lot of them, Beard guy, Baseball hat guy, and Other man keep advancing on me. Holy shit holy shit holy shit I’m gonna get the crap kicked outta me and die.
“Oh, sure you don’t, never heard that one before, babykiller.”
“Go away. Leave me alone.”
Baseball hat’s hand goes behind his back. “Don’t run,” he warns, but it’s either stay here and die or run and get shot.

I take the idiot’s way and run. Just turn and sprint. Go faster, get me out of here, go go go.
Then I get two sharp blasts from behind, one to each kneecap.
It paralyzes me. I fall like goliath, like hope in a third world country. I can’t feel my feet. There’s tingling nerves all the way up my legs, neuron’s give a dying scream and fall silent.
“You know what that was? Electromagnetic pulse. Shorts out machines. It’ll spread, paralyzing you from the waist down,” Baseball hat tells me, holding a smoking gun.
My throat goes dry. I’m crippled? I try to get to my feet, but my legs aren’t mine anymore, not listening to me. “How long?” I whisper.
“Oh, about an hour.”
An hour. I’m such an idiot. How did I think that this would work? Why am I such a stupid face?
“If you live that long!” Beard Guy calls, and everybody laughs, Baseball hat hauls me to my feet, and I’m trying not to cry. I’m loaded into the van, and everybody else’s laughter echoes in my mind.

A.N. Hello all! I might not update for a while, I've got schoolwork, but I will update as often as I humanly can. I've got another story running, too, so it's like having twins. Thank you so much for reading this, it means an awful lot to me. Please review if you want to. But you don't have to. Just saying. It'd be nice.
<<
>>
Log in to rate and review this story

Log in!




Register Lost password

Filter

You won't see stories with a lower score when you browse or search. Log in to adjust filter.
0

 

Featured Story

Site Stats

  • Authors: 655883
  • Stories: 39947

Recent Stories