Tales of the Parodyverse

Post By

Dancer
Tue Oct 04, 2005 at 03:13:44 pm EDT
Subject
Far Away - Part 5 (not a lot of laughs in this one, I'm afraid)
Originally
Far Away - Part 4 (beware soapy shower scenes and gory operations)
In Reply To

Dancer has posted 3 more parts down the board, and notices that not everybody's yet got round to replying. Just saying.
Mon Oct 03, 2005 at 08:21:00 pm EDT
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    She couldn’t scream, however much she wanted to. And she wanted to scream very badly. She wanted to scream and cry and struggle, but she couldn’t.

    She didn’t remember who she was or how she got there, but she’d come to the conclusion that she was probably in hell. She must have been very wicked.

    She couldn’t move. She’d spent a lot of time sprawled out on the ground, looking in the direction her head had happened to fall. She couldn’t even blink.

    Sometimes a monstrous bird or reptile would come up and peck at her eyes or her flesh, then go away unsatisfied. She couldn’t feel them, couldn’t look round to see what damage they’d done to her helpless body. She couldn’t even cry.

    It got dark and it got light again and she couldn’t move. She was a prisoner in her own corpse. She wondered if this was what happened when you died. Maybe you were just trapped for eternity in your rotting body, still aware, unable to move on? Maybe she’d be trapped like this till the end of time.

    She couldn’t make her mouth move to beg. She didn’t remember why she was being punished like this.

    At some point a huge thing like a cross between a dog and a frog came and nosed at her. She couldn’t see it well from the angle she was staring at, but her viewpoint suddenly changed as it jerked her sideways. She was dragged into a ruined plaza of some kind. The buildings all seemed unfamiliar. She heard a tearing of cloth as the animal tried to bite her, and its growl of annoyance as it somehow failed.

    It worried at her for a while, then lost interest. It cocked its leg and urinated on her in disgust, then stalked off.

    She knew then that she was a damned soul. She pleaded in her mind for someone, anyone, to give her oblivion. She tried not to go insane. She had nothing to hold on to. She had no answers.

    She heard voices, human voices. She couldn’t call out for help. Her head was turned and she saw a young woman with long dark hair and a smudged face looking down at her sadly. The woman was taking her pulse and talking to somebody out of sight. She had no pulse.

    She glimpsed another woman in ragged sweatpants, then she was hauled out of the plaza into one of the strange ruined buildings that ringed it. They checked her body and found a scorched plastic card that they seemed to recognise but not understand.

    “Look at the scorch marks on this girl’s stomach. I think she was electrocuted,” she heard one of the women say. Was that it? Had she been struck down by the gods for some terrible crime?

    The other looked down at her. “You know what I think? I think she’s not been around here for long either. Like you. I think she only arrived yesterday as well. I think she got here the same way you did.”

    What was that? Tell me! Tell me! What’s happening? Who am I? Why am I being tortured like this!

    “She looks a little familiar. But I’m not sure.”

    Help me! Oh please, please help me! I’m in here! I’m here!

    “You’d think you’d remember pink and purple hair.”

    “Well, whoever she was, she’s dead now. Poor thing. She deserves a decent burial. Help me pile that rubble on to her to keep the scavengers off.”

    No! Don’t close my eyes. I won’t be able to see the light. I won’t be able to see anything! I’ll be in the dark, alone in the dark, forever.

    The two women shut her eyes and laid her decently. She wanted to kill them.

    She heard the scraping of stones and she knew she was being buried. Buried alive. The claustrophobia washed over her in new waves of horror. She was going to be left like that, blind, alone, aware, for ever.

    And so she was.

    She lost track of time. Had she been buried minutes, or days, or weeks, or years? She saw things she knew weren’t there, heard voices that whispered and cackled. Something was pricking her with pins, burning her with cigarettes. She knew she couldn’t hold on much more. She knew she couldn’t hold on any more.

    “They’re gone! They’ve been taken!”

    Another hallucination? More phantom voices? Or was this somebody standing on her grave?

    “Those flying saucer things?”

    “The Seekers. They took Kas and Sarah while you people were holding me at gunpoint!”

    “We didn’t know. And frankly I still don’t trust you.”

    Three voices. Male. An American, a Canadian, and perhaps something Caribbean, with a lilting flow to it.

    “I promised to look after them, and they’ve been taken! Damn you!” The American was angry, very angry. She could hear the raw edge in his voice. A man near the edge.

    “I’m sorry. We thought you were the enemy.”

    “If I was the enemy I’d have ripped you to pieces for this. I still might!”

    “Be cool, man. We screwed up, maybe. I’m sorry the ladies got caught. Look, maybe we can track them.”

    “Oh, I’ll be tracking them all right. I’ll be tracking them if I have to rip apart every flaming Soldier and Seeker on this miserable planet and ram their ordinance up their backsides! Believe me!”

    She heard a movement. One of them brushed through the rubble. “Uh oh. Look at this.”

    Have they found me? A wild jolt of hope lanced through the buried woman. Oh please, please save me! I’m here! I’m alive! Please!

    They hadn’t found her. “One of those things? Break it, quick!”

    “Break it? What is it? I have one of those too!”

    “Is it working? If so you have to get rid of it, fast. Those things that you call Seekers, they can track them. We found that out the hard way.”

    “That card’s well trashed already. Melted. And mine’s snapped in two. But you’ve seen these before?”

    “Yeah, we both had them, both a little scorched, but intact. And some other guy that was with us, he had one too.”

    “Did he remember who he was, what he was doing?”

    “Nope. But he was one helluva archer. His card wasn’t as burned as ours, still had some writing on it. It has his name: Trickshot, and it seemed like some kind of security ID.”

    “The cards were damaged but active. Those Searchers knew just where to find us. When we worked out they were orienting on the cards we dropped them and ran. Trickshot didn’t. He stayed and tried to fight the flying saucer. Damaged it, as well, before it got him.”

    “Got him?”

    “Disintegrated. We saw him vaporised before our eyes. He never stood a chance. But he was a brave guy, I’ll give him that. Dumb but brave.”

    There was the sound of movement. They were moving away. No! Oh no! Find me! Help me! Don’t leave me to eternal damnation!

    “So how did this card come to be here?” the American asked. “Sarah had one too, but she lost it. All of us with amnesia seem to have had one. Perhaps they’re related to our conditions?”

    “I don’t know. Look, about these girls. If you’re truly serious about trying to find them and rescue them… I’m willing to come along and try. It’s the right thing to do.”

    “Damsels in distress? Oh sure, count me in too. If I’ve gotta die horribly here in Resident Evil III I might as well go out doin’ something heroic.” He moved out of the ruins. “Well, what are we waiting for.”

    “Hold on. There was a corpse. Sarah and Kat were looking at it, brought it in here to bury it over there, I guess. This card must have come from that dead girl.”

    “Another amnesiac? You think maybe we should dig her up, see if there’s any clues on her person?”

    “Hey, Canada, you want clues just find a way to open those funky belt pouches you’re carrying.”

    “I told you before, I can’t get into them. I can’t even cut into them. Stick to the point, will you?”

    The American sounded closer. “Interesting. That’s not a corpse under there.”

    At last! They know! Help me! Help me!

    The sound of rocks being moved. “Sure looks like a dead girl to me. And she was a fox.”

    “Careful. She’s not a corpse because she’s not human.”

    “Not human? What do you mean?”

    What do they mean? What are they saying about me?

    “Listen, I know this’ll sound weird, but I seem to have x-ray vision. Along with the strength and the healing and stuff, I can see through objects.”

    “Like girls’ dresses and stuff?”

    “Grow up.”

    “Kiss my ass, Canada. Who died and made you King of Crapholeland?”

    “Focus. I can see through objects, and what I’m seeing here is a metal frame and some advanced fibre mesh made to look like skin. This is a robot.”

    A robot? How can I be a robot? I think. I feel. I’m me! No. No you’re wrong!

    This is another torment. A new level of hell.

    “A robot? She sure looks human to me. Are you sure?”

    “Be careful. It might still be dangerous.”

    The Canadian was nearest now. “But if we can get it working, find out what is in its data banks… It might be able to tell us who we are and how we got here.”

    I’m not a robot! I can’t be! And I don’t know anything!

    “Looks pretty fried to me. Her belly’s all scorched and blackened. Maybe she was struck by lightning?”

    “There’s still some back-up power in her body. It’s possible some systems are still operative. And there’s an LED flashing on the nape of her neck.”

    She was hoisted up like a doll. Her head slumped forward onto her chest.

    “You think maybe she has a reset button?”

    “I don’t know. Look, I don’t have time for this. I need to be after Kat and Sarah. But there’s a pretty obvious link under the skin where that thing’s flashing, and it’s broken. Maybe a fancy kind of fuse. How about we try and short-circuit it and see what happens?”

    “How do we get to it? We can’t even see it.”

    “I can rip through this skin. Give me something small and metal. Yeah, a dime’s fine. Hold on…”

    Agony surged through the girl’s limbs. She spasmed epileptically. Even that felt good. She was moving! She had a body! She could see!

    The coin was shaken loose. One by one her systems came under control. One by one they reported in.

    That was when she realised that she must be a robot after all! If she’d had a real heart it would have broken.

    The American was ready for a sudden attack from the awoken robot. He wasn’t prepared for her to cling to his neck and begin to sob.

    “What?” he asked uncertainly.

    “Hello?” the Canadian said. “Can you hear us?”

    “Yes.” She could speak! Her face moved, and she could feel her lips! She held on tight to the warmth of the man beside her because she could. “Yes. I’m alive! I’m alive!”

    “Very James Whale,” the Caribbean guy said. He was a lean black man, built and dressed like a runner. “Hi, pretty robot lady.”

    Automated systems were assessing damage now. Her brain was flooded with status reports. Metal skeleton, coiled steel muscles, sophisticated hydraulics. Blood of oil. Flesh of plastic. What was she? Who had made her? Who had played this cruel joke?

    “Do you remember who made you? Where we are?” the Canadian asked.

    “No. I don’t remember anything except being here, paralysed. All alone. It was… I was all alone. Buried, in the dark.”

    “It’s… okay now.” The American was clearly uncomfortable comforting a robot. But he held her until she was able to stop dry-sobbing and get some self-control.

    “I don’t understand anything,” the purple-haired machine said miserably. “I don’t know who I am – what I am. I don’t know where this place is. I don’t know anything.”

    “Useful,” said the black man.

    “I didn’t even know I was… a robot. I didn’t realise until you said it just now.”

    “What did you think you were?” Canada asked.

    “Human. What else would I be?”

    “Okay,” the American declared. “This is a weird situation getting weirder every moment. But for now we have to focus on the primary mission, getting Katarina and Sarah back.”

    “Agreed,” said Canada. “Then we find out what’s going on, who’s behind it, and we sort it out.”

    “And then maybe a spot of dinner,” suggested the runner.

    “Can I… come with you?” the cyborg asked.

    The three men exchanged doubtful glances.

    “Sure you can,” the black man said finally, with a little grin. “You’re better on the eyes than these two bozos, and you’re nothing like as irritating.”

    “You can come along,” the American, Miles, agreed. “But if you turn against us or try to betray us, I will destroy you.”

    You’ll try, you mean, the robot-girl thought.

    “We need to move out,” said Miles. Suddenly he was all business, as if he was embarrassed by the whole encounter with a crying amnesiac robot. “That way. The saucer headed off over there, and that’s where I’ve been hearing a lot of radio chatter.”

    “That’s right,” their new companion agreed. “I can pick it up too. It’s encrypted. I’m working on a decode, but I’m not operating at full capacity so it could take a while.”

    “You can understand their transmissions?” Canada asked. “That would be quite an advantage.”

    “Give me some working time.”

    They hauled out of the ruined alien town before sunrise, heading over dark muddy terrain. At dawn the skies opened with a long downpour of acrid slimy rain, drenching them to their skins. But it gave them cover so they were able to keep moving.

    The Runner dropped back to talk with the robot girl as they pushed on. “You okay?”

    “Why shouldn’t I be? I’m not going to rust. I plugged that hole your strong friend punched in my neck.”

    “You seemed pretty upset before.”

    “That doesn’t make any sense though, does it, if I’m just a machine.”

    “No, it doesn’t. but you were upset all the same. So are you okay?”

    The girl shuddered. “No. I’m totally freaked to find I’m a robot. And before that… I thought I was buried forever. I’m terrified of the dark and of close spaces. I’m terrified of being paralysed again. It was my worst nightmare.”

    “But now you’re better, okay? And it seems to me that having a cool sexy robot body isn’t the worst thing in the world, right? Especially here at judgement day when there are things out there with a real taste for human flesh.”

    “I suppose. I hadn’t thought of it like that.” She turned to look at the man. “Judgement day?”

    “Could be. Who knows? Miles thinks this is an alien planet. But what if this is one of those Planet of the Apes deals? What if we’re in the future? Or the present, and this is how it all ends? What if this is the End Times? What if it’s already over and we’re what got left behind?”

    “I thought I was in hell.”

    “You might be right.” The Runner snorted. “Or it could just be a really bad pizza we ate last night, and we’ll wake up later and go get breakfast, huh? That’d be pretty nice.”

    “Waking up with me for breakfast?”

    “Wouldn’t suck.”

    “Are you just trying to make me feel better?”

    “Not only that. And hey, you may be made of iron and springs and stuff, but you sure smile like a pretty woman.”

    It was the nicest thing she could remember anyone ever saying or doing. It was the only thing.

    She kept her smile a secret, inside herself, but she was smiling all the same as they walked towards the distant dome.



___




    She couldn’t scream, however much she wanted to. And she wanted to scream very badly. She wanted to scream and cry and struggle, but she couldn’t.

    Katarina Allen’s implant had shut down her voluntary muscular systems, and she couldn’t stop the med-techs hauling her out of the suite where she’s been sleeping beside Sarah. She was strapped to a gurney and unceremoniously wheeled away.

    She was taken down a clinical white corridor to a clinical white elevator. Her stomach told her she was descending fast.

    The door opened onto a very different place, a dark metal room with dim red lighting. There was a foul smell of faeces and blood, but mostly there was the stink of fear.

    The med-techs leaned over her and she felt them fasten something heavy and metallic to her wrists. Her hands were shackled. Her terror mounted. She felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, felt blood trickling down her skin. And then she could move.

    She screamed. Nobody took any notice.

    She realised that the implant in her arm had been ripped out. It hurt like hell, but the med-techs weren’t leaving valuable diagnostic equipment to be put out with the trash.

    Then Katarina saw the orange and black armoured Soldiers waiting for her in the dark iron room. A couple of them were laughing as they grabbed her off the gurney and dragged her out of the elevator. The med-techs retreated into the car and closed the door. They didn’t want to get too near to the brutal soldiers either.

    Katarina found strength to work her limbs and kicked at the men holding her. She bruised her toes against their polycarbide armour. It seemed to amuse them.

    She realised that her worst nightmares were very close now.

    They were much stronger than Katarina. They dragged her down an iron corridor lit from behind brutal metal grills, then down another, then another. She became completely disoriented. She would never find her way back, never get out. And even if she found the elevator, what then? Back to the medics? To Stuart and his lies? To the outside where the hunting beasts swarmed and the Scavs lurked?

    Katarina almost gave up then. But there was a little bit of her that wouldn’t surrender to the terror and wouldn’t yield to hopelessness.

    She allowed herself to whisper the secret word, the only one that was keeping her sane:

    “Miles.”

    It was a pathetic, vain hope. And she knew that. Sometimes a pathetic vain hope is all you can have.

    A thick iron security door ground open. The Soldiers dragged Katarina inside. It was some kind of gallery or private box, overlooking an arena below where gladiators fought. There were crowds roaring, hundreds, thousands, as the men fought. The immediate room was filled with a dozen chairs, and the chairs were filled with spectators.

    The implant was gone, but the translator nanites were still active in Katarina’s body. “General,” one of the soldiers dragging the girl called, coming to attention. “Another comfort slave from the medical deck.”

    An old man with mad, cruel eyes turned from watching the carnage below to examine his new toy. “Not bad,” he judged. “She’s just what I need right now. Give her first to whichever of the men in the arena is the last one standing.”

    “I’m not a slave,” Katarina spat. “And I won’t be given to anybody.”

    The General wasn’t even bothered by her defiance. “You are a slave, as you will shortly learn,” he told her. “And you are already given. Live with it, die screaming, those are the only choices left to you now.” He turned back to the show. “Take her away.”


Continued…???



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