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Rated: 18+ · Other · Sci-fi · #2013149
The opening scene - a recollection by the main character - in Isolated Incident.
Nothing traumatizes a kid fresh out of diapers quite like witnessing mortality firsthand...

My parents and I were trudging through a dimly lit section of the colony where around an inch or so of fresh powder graced the ground. Lights flickered in protest at the barely reliable power supplied to them by the old generators in the area. I remember seeing the lights go out around a corner just up ahead, leaving an alley unlit and foreboding. I was barely seven years old at the time and seeing a light fade to black in an alleyway just made me uneasy. I tugged for my parents to stop, but they pressed on.

That's when my irrational fear gained rationality. Two men in black suits emerged from the darkened corridor and stood before my parents, steely-eyed and unwavering. Mom and Dad stopped in their tracks, pushing me behind them and moving together in front of me.

"Your experiments," one of the men began.

"What about them?" A look of anger and fear flashed across my father's face.

"They need to stop. We can't have people hoping for a better life than..." the other man spoke calmly as if he were only looking out for us, but my mother crouched down to me and whispered in my ear.

"Run," she said without fear. "Find some place you can't see us and hide until we come find you."

So I ran off into the nearby thicket of trees and crouched low to the ground where nobody could see me, but I could see them. The chill of the snow and cold air bit into every bit of exposed flesh on my hands and face as I drew lower to the ground. Now, I only heard the occasional word here and there. Something about being ungrateful and a fanatic was said by one of the men, when I saw my dad stand straighter than ever.

Whatever was said really set him on edge as he stepped toward one of the men angrily, pointing and shaking his head. The two men slowly reached down alongside their hips to rest their hands on something each had in a pouch. My father lunged at one of the suits and tackled him to the ground with snow hissing under their rolling weight, or so I imagined. My mother made to distract the other one with a slap to the face followed by a punch to the chest. The one my father tackled rolled on top and began raising and lowering his fists in rapid succession before my father pleaded for him to stop.

Something happened and my mother was thrown to the ground where she reached into her purse for something. The man that wasn't busy with my father quickly drew something large, dark, and shiny from the pouch on his hip before a loud, bone-jarring crack filled the night air. My mother went limp and a dark, reddish spot began to grow on her clothes. I heard my father yelling for her as he was let go by the other man to crawl toward her when another crack wracked my senses and he, too, went motionless and silent.

Both men stood facing each other for a time, talking among themselves. They seemed to grow increasingly agitated as their conversation continued before one held his hand up to silence the other and reached into his pocket. He raised a small device to his ear and nodded, moving his mouth as if talking to someone, he nodded once more and replaced the thing back into it's home. The two murderers resumed talking and then went back to where they were when the cracks happened.

They each picked up one shiny stick and put it into their pockets before walking toward the trees and walking toward me. I lay down in the snow, now. Silently covering myself with the freezing powder, I lay as quietly as I could while listening to the crunch of their feet on the ground. I did my best to release my breath slowly to keep them from seeing the mist in the air from the warmth inside my body. At first they grew closer, louder and louder until I could barely keep from whimpering in fear. Then they began to grow more distant and quieter as I slowly brought myself out of the bone-chilling position on the ground to one where I could see their retreat.

I watched as they walked back down into the corridor from where they came. A moment later, the light returned to alley and there was no trace of them so I stood once more and found my footing before I slowly walked out of my hiding place. I went to my mother first. Her eyes were open and staring empty and lifeless into the night sky, her mouth slightly agape, and lips turning a purple-blue. I shook her from side-to-side and she did not move. It was like I wasn't even there.

Then I went to Dad. He lay face down in the snow with a red pool around him that was quickly freezing into a slush. I tried rolling him over, but I was too little and he was much too heavy. I called for him to wake up and answer me. No response came from him. I sat there for a while, crying at the sudden loss of my parents. I beat the ground below me like an earthen drum and snow flew up around my hands from the force. I was young and did not have any experience with death.

Never before then....
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