||A Terrible Tale of Carnage- story
It was a damp, April afternoon, and the bell had just rang, informing all the students that school was finished for the day. All the snow had long since begun to melt, ensuring the occurrence of mud. The heavy metal breezeway doors swung open, releasing a tide of tired, overworked teens. The sea of youth flooded onto the mushy bus loading zone and quickly separated and regrouped with their friends. That is until the teachers split them up into their bus lines. Groaning, complaining, and muttering insults under their breaths, they slowly made their way to where they were supposed to be.
Inside the school, however, the 13 year old, Sophia Burkley was still collecting her books. It had been about 3 minutes after the bell rang, that she realized that school was over. She had rushed to her locker, and was now hastily stuffing her books into her backpack. I’m going to miss the bus, I’m going to miss the bus! She kept repeating in her head. Calm down! Your bus is the last one anyways. She had finally finished packing her bag and was now rushing to get her coat and outdoor shoes on.
Throwing her backpack over her shoulder, she ran down the hall and busted through the breezeway doors. Most of the buses had departed, and her line had already moved up. Then, from around the corner, she spotted her bus. She started running. Running through the mud, soggy grass, and slush. She would have made it to the bus line in time, if it hadn’t been for a huge tree root protruding from the ground. She was just a few meters from the end of the line, when all of a sudden her foot had caught the root. She dropped like a stone, sending a tidal wave of muck onto some unfortunate sixth graders just happening to be standing nearby. Sophia slowly stood up, covered in mud and grass.
Why do these things always happen to me? She questioned a non-existent listener inside of her mind. She watched as some of the people who still hadn’t been loaded onto the bus point, and whisper to their friends. The sound of obnoxious giggling surrounded her, seeping in though her pores. She let out a quiet sigh and wiped the mud off of her face. To keep herself from bursting into tears, Sophia bit her lip so hard that she could taste the copper spilling into her mouth. She swallowed hard and collected herself, and started up the steep bus stairs, until she was stopped at the top.
“Where’d ya think yur goin, missy?” the bus driver inquired with a barely understandable dialect. Judging by his appearance, he would have looked better behind the wheel of a transport truck. The plaid lumberjack shirt didn’t do justice for his “bus driver” appearance either. “Yur not gettin on my bus with all them muddy clothes. Go find some’un else ter get ya a ride ‘ome.”
Sophia started to stutter and stammer, “b-b-b-but-” but before she could finish her sentence, the bus driver gave her a cold stare. Turning around, she stumbled down the steps, biting her lip…but this time even that couldn’t stop the salty warmness from sliding down her cheek, collecting on her chin. Forcing down her sobs, she could feel the grit from the fall in her throat as she swallowed. I guess I’ll have to walk home like this. Nobody can come pick me up anyways, they’re at work. Then it started to rain.
For a moment, she stood there, sighed, and then started to walk slowly in the direction of her house. It would take a good half hour at the least to make it home. Sophia could feel the icy eyes of the people driving by her as she walked on the side of the road, uncaring and indifferent.
The rain came down like a shower. Her hair was soaking wet, and her side bangs hung limply in her face as she waited in line for her bus to come. She didn’t care. Nobody knew her anyways. Celia Stevens brushed the hair off her face, tucking it behind her ears. I hate the bus. She had a look of coldness on her face.
The hum of the bus got gradually louder as the metal, yellow beast lumbered towards the school. The kids looked up from their chats, aware that they were going home soon. “SCREECH!” The bus ground to a halt. Students pushed and shoved as the gates of hell opened. They fought for the back seats, so Celia ended up in an empty seat in the middle. She felt someone hit the seat beside her, but didn’t look. Then, the bus started to accelerate, reaching 60kmph. The yelling, and noisy chatter, along with the passing scenery made her head spin. A massive knot grew in her stomach, making her feel nauseous.
“Whoa” she yelled. The bus had stopped, causing her to smack her head against the window and snap her back into reality. The bus was on its way again. A few people looked at her curiously, making her slouch down out of view. More embarrassment. Great what a way to make new friends! Not that I would want to be friends with these freaks anyways. She went back to staring out the window.
While she was gazing out the window, she caught a glimpse of a girl from her school. She was walking on the side of the road, and was barely recognizable because she was covered in mud and grass. The fact that it was raining hid the fact she was crying. All of a sudden she felt a pang of sympathy for the girl, because she was also new to the school. I’m glad that’s not me. Celia reflected.
Finally turning up the driveway to her house, Sophia was trying to think of ways to explain her appearance to her mother. Her parents had just recently gotten home because she could see the car and the trunk was still warm when she felt it. It’s not like I could say I just got back from Disney world. She thought sarcastically. She wiped the remaining grime from her face and clothes, and then squeezed out her hair. Twisting the doorknob, she started to pull open the door. She could sense her mother standing there, at the top of the stairs. Sophia paused, grimaced, and then recommenced opening the door.
The bus rolled to a stop. The last stop for this bus run, was also where Celia got off. At last, the rain had stopped, but the potholes were filled to the brim with water. There were worms crawling across the pavement, soaking in the puddles, and there were worms laying flat on the road dying a slow painful death after being squished by many cars. She walked around the worms and the puddles, and made it to her front door. Then, she entered her house and called out a loud “Hello!” Good, no one’s home. She liked it that way.
Dropping her backpack in the middle of the hallway, she walked over to the couch in her living room and flopped over. She decided that she was going to take a small nap after her sort-of hard day’s work before she did her homework.
* * *
“Wake up!” Julie Stevens whispered loudly in her ear. She was shaking her daughter in a futile attempt to wake her up from her nap. Then, Celia stirred. She opened one eye, then the other and groaned.
“What are you doing mom?” she grumbled. She took a pillow from the other side of the couch and buried her head under it. Julie pulled it off.
“Come on. You know you’re not going to sleep tonight!” Her mother sounded impatient. “Now hurry up, you have cooking class tonight.”
“B-b-b-ut” Celia stammered.
“Ah!” Her mother scolded. “No buts. You are going. I’m not saying you have to like it, but what I am saying, is that if you go you might just make some friends.” Celia scowled. She really wasn’t looking forward to hanging out with a bunch of girly-girls in some prissy cooking class.
She closed her eyes, and hoped with all her might, that she might be spared from the terrible power of mom, and then stepped into the house. She stood there, awaiting the inevitable. Strangely enough, nothing was said. She opened her eyes, still curled up as if she was going to be beaten. Maya Burkley just stood there with an annoyed look in her eyes, and pointed in the direction of the bathroom. “Go wash up, and get into some clean clothes. We have to be out of here in half an hour.” Sophia didn’t know where they were going, but didn’t care. There wasn’t much point in arguing either. She was of course, her mom.
It was light out this time of day. The winter’s long nights had finally started to shorten. It was 5:00pm, as they drove into the parking lot and found a free space. I really don’t want to do this. It’s probably going to be taught by some happy-go-lucky lady who never stops smiling and giggles at everything. Celia unbuckled her seatbelt and forced herself to open the door. She had to resist the temptation to slam the door. To her chagrin, her arm disobeyed her brain. “It was the wind,” she lied, muttering under her breath.
It was nippy outside and a chill sharply shot up her spine. The water particles from her breathing condensed on contact with the cool air, and the mist rose up into the sky. She took glance around the parking lot, and then unexpectedly, she saw the girl from her school. What is she doing here? She hardly looks like the kind of person that would be interested in something like this. “Bye, mom,” she said quietly.
When she entered the small building, the fluorescent lights cast a yellow glow on her skin, giving her a sickly appearance. The aroma of baked goods from the previous class still wafted around the modern-looking room. Sophia took a seat in the back corner, and sat there not making a sound. That’s when another girl from her school came over and sat down in the chair next to her.
“Hi, I’m Celia,” she said shyly as she introduced herself. “I’ve seen you around my school before, but I don’t know your name.”
“My name is Sophia,” Sophia responded. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who would be interested in this sort of thing. I was forced”
“Me too. I hate it.” She frowned. “Was is you I saw walking home today?” Sophia frowned, and looked to the side. Then let out a painful sigh.
“Yes that was me, don’t bother asking though…I’m not really in the mood for a recap.”
“Welcome to ‘The Boy’s and Girl’s Class of the Culinary Arts’, hosted by Celapurson Corporations,” The teacher had started the class. “I am Edith Styles, and will be your teacher for today’s class.” Just as I though a bunch of unruly teenagers. She thought, still hiding behind a huge plaster smile. “Is everyone here? Once I say your name, you may go get supplies from the closet,” she started calling names.
Supplies? What supplies? She hasn’t even told us what we’re cooking. I wish she would stop smiling already. It’s freaking me out. Celia’s name was called. Sophia had been called before her because her last name came first alphabetically. She was the last one. She stood up, pushed in her chair and made her way to the supply closet. Strange. She thought. She couldn’t hear anybody rummaging around for things. She peeked into the closet, but before she had the chance to see anything, someone pulled her inside and forcefully covered her mouth and nose her with damp cloth. It smelled strongly of bleach. Black fuzz attacked the border of her eyes, and the last thing she heard before falling unconscious was the closet door slamming shut.
* * *
“Clang!” The sound of bone coming in contact with steel reverberated in the huge warehouse. Awake with a start, she sat up quickly, her head connecting with the roof. Wait…what roof? Is there supposed to be a huge metal plate above my head? A wave of nausea rolled over her, and Sophia’s arms collapsed from under her, sending her sprawling on the floor. She then realised where she was. In a metal cage. Her vision was frayed around the edges, but not so much that she was temporarily blinded. Other cages, like hers stretched out on either side of her. Where is this place and why am I here?
Her heart started beating rapidly, threatening to pop out of her chest. Her breathing was hurried, almost to the point of hyperventilation. “Clap, clop!” something was outside walking around. “Clap, clop!” getting closer now. She caught sight of a navy pant leg, followed by the beam of a flashlight. The footsteps were right next to her now. She held her breath, closed her eyes, and tried to look like she was still asleep. Please go away. This is only a bad dream. It’s not real.
She struggled to assure herself that this whole situation was just a figment of her mind's eye. She let out a small whimper, barely audible and clasped a hand to her mouth. The footsteps halted. Everything was silent and tension levitated in the atmosphere. The beam of light penetrated her eyelids and she bit her tongue.
“Hey!” the guard yelled. “This one’s awake!” Another voice echoed from across the warehouse.
“Might as well wake the others then. We need to get started soon anyways!” The voice paused for a second. “Pull the lever!” Celia could hear the guards scrambling. “Hurry up people! We’re on a tight schedule and don’t have time for sluggishness!” A deafening alarm resounded throughout the compound, bouncing off the concrete walls. Shouts of surprise could be heard all over. Then the incessant alarm ceased.
Peering out between the metal bars, she could see a tall shady looking man walk into the centre of the area. He was dressed in a suit, tailored to a perfect fit, and a black cap was perched on his head, obscuring his face. Then, she saw it. Hideously inhuman looking, she was forced to look away immediately. She could hear a few gasps amongst the other people around her. Half of his face was completely distorted. Red and raw, it appeared as if half of the flesh had been boiled. Unhealthy skin bubbles were situated on his face. Probably chemical burns. Celia decided.
“Greetings young people, I am Lucifer.” He sneered. “Welcome to your new temporary living quarters. I only say temporary because you wont be here much longer anyways.” He continued. “I’m terribly apologetic about the way you’ve been handled, but there was no other way.”
“What is the meaning of this?” A girl approximately her own age yelled, the heat of anger raised the temperature in the compound, though it seemed. It was a stupid move. The man looked straight at her with a stare that could slice through hard rock. He made a signal to his crony, and he nodded. He unlocked the cage, and roughly seized the girl by her arm, pulling her out.
“This is what happens when you oppose me, or try to escape.” He said calmly, almost sounding pleased. He flicked on a huge light, which illuminated the other half of the warehouse. A behemoth conveyor belt snaked its way up to a large grinding machine, all polished and clean. “Or when I feel it’s your turn to go. More to the point, you will all be making your way to this baby eventually. I’d like to be done by tomorrow.” His wicked laugh lodged itself in the brains of all the people captured, a permanent resting place for something that they would never forget in their now shortened lives.
“Now,” He smirked, pointing at his highest ranked minion. “Care to do the honours?” With that, the girl was hogtied and thrown onto the conveyor belt. A big red button was pushed, and the contraption started. Her shrill screams pierced the air, but then quickly died away as she disappeared into the grinder. It was then that Celia witnessed that it was Sophia.
This is it. Sophia thought. The fear of death clung to her. Even though she had though of it as an option before, she had never truly realized how much her life meant to her. I don’t want to die! I could have lived my life better. Instead, I just wasted it away just ‘passing’ through the days. I could have grown up to be a better person and make a difference in the world. Why for goodness sakes me! A mixture of sadness, fury, and regret were her last emotions, as she vanished from existence.
“NO!” She cursed and flung herself at the sides of the cage in a blind rage. Tears stung her eyes. She was barely acquainted with her, but knew from the start that they would’ve been best friends. When she finally calmed down, she realized that she was being dragged out of her own cage.
“Any last words or questions you have before joining that poor soul?” He scoffed.
“Why are you doing this?” Celia enquired. “Why do this to innocent people, who have done nothing to you?” She took a deep breath to keep herself from bursting into tears of hatred. She did not want them to see her cry, weak and useless.
“This little operation here, you see, is my cash cow. I grind all of you up, package your remains, then have you shipped off to various distribution centres around the globe. From there, you will be sold in stores under the product identification of chicken and turkey.” He coughed. “This alone, just keeps the cash rolling in.”
“Wouldn’t you get caught if mass amounts of adolescents went missing after going to your cooking class?”
“Well, you see. The truth is, that when we knocked you out with the chloroform, we took a sample of your flesh, and cloned you, releasing your counterparts back into the real world. No one will ever find out.”
“Yeah, well what if I do this!” she grunted as she jumped up to a standing position, while at the same time knocking two of the guards heads together. With a loud “smack” they both collapsed to the floor. The other guard whipped out his Walther P99 from the holster clipped on his belt and fired off one round. Celia froze, watching as the bullet found its mark on the wall. Acting instinctively, she spun around and kicked the gun out of his hands. It clattered to the floor, and she kicked it far out of reach.
The exhilaration pumped her veins with adrenaline, as she threw this guard to the ground. He was knocked out instantaneously upon hitting the hard cement floor. Celia was surprised at her unexpected burst of vigour. It was the million-year-old ‘Fight or Flight’ instinct, and in this case she planned on following both. Behind her, she heard a sharp click and turned to see that the crazy head of the operation had picked up the Walther and was now pointing it straight at her. “I will not let you escape!” He growled, closing in on her. “Now why won’t you just go easily like your friend did?” She let out a battle cry and charged. He fired two shots, both miraculously missing her by mere inches. The gun was thrust out of his hand, as she slammed into him and started to bite his arm as hard as she could. She could taste the slippery red liquid as she pierced the skin and she pushed away from him and spat on the floor. While he was wincing in pain, this gave her enough time to escape through the door.
Rushing down the hallway, she turned and ran up a set of stairs. Wait, why are there stairs in a warehouse? The answer came to her when she reached the top of the stairs and pulled open the door that was there in front of her. She then realised it hadn’t been a warehouse at all. It was an underground bunker. She was now standing back inside the supply closet. At least I know where I am. Poor planning on their part. I guess they didn’t consider the fact that someone might escape. Now let’s make it so that they can’t escape.
Pulling down one of the shelves, she placed it in front of the door and started stacking the heaviest items she could. I have to make it as difficult as possible for them to break out. There was also a huge desk in there, so she dragged it before the entrance. Celia raced out of the closet, exited the building, and ran out into the night. Right at the corner of the street, was a black pay phone. Even though she had no money, she knew that by calling 911, it would still go through. Pressing the big buttons on the number pad, she held the phone to her ear, and after two rings the operator came on the line. Before he even had a chance to ask what department she needed, she blurted out, “Get me the police department, please!” then she added, “And fast, it’s an emergency!”
“Sir, there’s a call on line 1 for you, I think it’s important.” The secretary explained to the director of the police force, Rick Stanfield. He picked up the phone on his desk, and put it to his ear.
“Rick Stanfield, director of the N.B.P.D. What’s up?” he said in an official tone.
“Sir! I just got a tip about an illegal drug smuggling ring from a girl that spotted them. She got away, but barely!” Detective Matt Hagen exclaimed. “What should we do?”
“Calm down, Hagan. Where is she now?” Stanfield inquired.
“Ok,” he sighed. “She’s on the corner of West Street and Lake Road. She said that she has them trapped in a closet, and that there’s not much time left before they manage to break the barricade down. They are armed!”
“Gather some men together and take a look, call my cell if you need backup, and we’ll send some extra men.” He hoped that it was not a dud, and hung up the phone.
Hiding behind a dumpster, in an ally between two buildings, she awaited the arrival of the police cruiser. Celia had to tell them a lie, because she was anxious that they might laugh at her, and think that it was just a prank. No, she needed them to come no matter what the cost. She needed to put that horrid man away in prison for life, without parole. Too bad capital punishment is illegal in Canada. She would love to see him given a taste of his own medicine.
Just then, she heard a car pull up to the side of the road, where the pay phone was. She said that she would meet them there, and take them to the scene of the crime. She emerged from the ally, and approached the vehicle. “Hurry! We don’t have much time!” she motioned them to follow. When they entered the building, the men immediately knew where to go when they heard the muffled thumps against the door.
“Cover me,” Matt whispered, careful as not to alert the suspect. His comrades drew their Taurus PT145’s. It was just in 2012 that the law had changed, allowing the use of semi-automatic weapons in the police force. “Hold your fire, unless I give the signal.” He kicked away the barricade, and opened the door. Lucifer was just about to smash into the door again, and he flew across the floor. Two of the officers were on top of him before he could even blink, and his hands were pulled behind him and the cuffs were placed around his wrists. He squirmed under the heavy weight of the two full-grown men, and his head was forced to the ground.
“You are under arrest for the believed possession of illegal drugs!” While the officer said this, a yell came from down the stairs. It was Matt who had gone to investigate the rest of the building.
“Guys! We better call the director!” He didn’t waste time explaining and whipped out his cell phone, then speedily dialled Stanfield’s number. What he had just seen would haunt him in his dreams until the day that he died. There were small metal cages in many rows, filling the entire compound, all filled with terrified teenagers. They stared at him eerily, watching his every move, hoping against hope that he was one of the good guys. He dialled the director’s number.
“Stanfield, what’s up Hagan?” the director’s voice came from the other end.
“Sir! We have a bit of a problem here. Actually, a big problem.”
“Well spit it out!” he sounded impatient.
“It’s not a drug smuggling ring,” he said finally. “There are a bunch of children here, and they’re all in separate cages! Also, there is an immense metal machine here, that looks to be a meat processor.” What is going on here? He was scared to think of the possibilities.
“Stand by, and there will be backup coming soon.”
When the backup arrived, the many uniformed men flooded the bunker. The others had managed to find the key for all of the locks clasped to the cages. When all the adolescents were retrieved, they were brought up out of the compound and were asked to give their contact information, so that they could call their parents and explain the whole ordeal. Celia sat back and was watching, when Matt approached her. “Hi, I am Matt Hagan,” he held out his hand. “I assume you are the one who tipped us off.” Celia stood up and shook his hand.
“Yes, I am. I was one of the people who were captured.” Celia replied.
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” He asked, taking out a little black notebook.
“Ask away,” she answered.
“First of all, I would like to know why you lied to us.” Matt inquired, getting his pen ready. He wrote down everything that he told her. It was enough to pin Lucifer to the crime, along with the visual evidence. He was placed in a maximum-security detention facility, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, and would never be seen by anyone, other the guards who worked there of course. He would be there for the rest of his natural life, without parole.
hehe...srry i that it's kind of crappy...this was a school project and I only had a one week time period to finish. dramallama
· Thu Jun 05, 2008 @ 01:11am · 4 Comments