Jan 10
L1CK's picture

Creator

    A dark factory rested upon a mountains edge, which overlooked a gloomy town. It was black and grey, with a slender chimney in the front. It blew dark puffs of smoke above the cloud line. It was hard to tell the difference between day and night as a thick layer of fog that settled into a musty air that almost obscured all sight. Occasionally the fog would settle and give a glimpse to the factory in the mountain. But no one from the town had ever been up there, or seen it up close. It sat watching them from afar with its intentions unknown and its builder a mystery.
 
   The people of the town matched the atmosphere they lived in. Grey hair, pale skin. Fear was what ran the town and the frightened were the reason anything got done. It was an unbalanced chain of authority. Laws in place, but enforcers were either bought out or too scared to do anything about the crimes that took place. The town was cased in by a massive wall that towered over any building inside. The people that lived in the town were not actually humans. But a sloppy vision of them, as if someone had tried to play god but had one too many drinks before doing so. Their skin wasn’t white from lack of sunlight, but because that was how they were created to look. They weren't happy because of the surrounding they lived in but because there brain was brutally tortured before there switch was flipped. The ones that had hope, and a desire to live were easily recognizable and shot within seconds of being discovered. Not by the police, they were just there to give the world a backbone. A weak, unstable and broken backbone.

    When a “Believer” was found a reddish glow began to pulsate from the factory above. The town could see it break through the air and bounce off of houses and light up the sky. It was a disturbing color, no one knew who it would be taking so everyone would run and hide. But the light knew who it was, and it didn’t need to see them to do what it was designed for. An eye shaped hole would open in the front of the factory, right above the entrance. It moved, locking on to every person inside the town until it found its target. After locating the Believer, the light would dim momentarily before a blinding flash of red struck the world under the mountain.


    After that, the townspeople would look for the victim. No matter where he or she was, would be found with a pinpoint hole through their head. The shot was always in the same spot, to guarantee a successful kill. And to make sure it destroyed the chip. The lack of empathy and love in the town made it easy to dispose of the body. One picked him up by his legs the other by his arms and carried him to the top of the wall; where they would throw the body to the other side. It didn’t take long for the prowler to get it. No one ever saw the prowler but its screeches at night gave everyone an idea of what it looked like. It would feed off of the body, devouring it within a mere gulp. The next day, a new resident would be found in the bed where the last would sleep. No one questioned the newcomer, because no one cared.


    Once a week, the townspeople gathered around the centerpiece of the town. A statue. It was of a tall man, with a top hat on. He wore an overcoat and spectacle. Nobody had memory of this man, but they all had the feeling that they knew him. A song would play from the lower part of the statue, a repetitive loop of the same notes. They were out of tune and cut through their ears with a painful headache that followed. The music would eventually stop and everyone would go to work. The days consisted of back breaking work, except for the ones that scared there way to the top. They sat and watched, not happy but not tired either. The lower beings were worked till they died making components and parts that were sent out of the town to somewhere high in the mountains. No one cared to question what they were making. All they knew was that this was what they had to do.

    But you think with the life they live they would accept death, but they were designed to fear it. Just like a human, but they would rather die working then die from the factory at least then their life was long. There fear built into their soul for the factory was what made them live through the life they were given. But they couldn’t really hate it, that emotion was removed long ago. Hatred gave them power to revolt, to stop work. To go against the factory. Emotions and feelings were chosen from trial and error. And categorized into two types. Neutral, and Dangerous. Neutral was emotions like fear, sadness, anxiety. Dangerous was the most powerful emotions, that were taken out to prevent any halt of production. These emotions consisted of things like Love, Joy, Empathy. If they had a connection to one another they would be able to see the world they lived in was not living. But a tedious cycle till death. No connection means a loss from the community wouldn't slow down production. The work of a genius, but a genius who seemed to also have a lack of Love, Joy, and Empathy. He wasn’t any different from his works of “art.” These “obinations” were his image of a perfect world.