NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: A story of my nations greatest Hero...no IC replies but OOC comments...ideas, improvments always encouraged.

IC: It was a large ruined city, one of building which were once tall and proud now lay ruined and defeat much like the millions of people who once inhabited them. The City was forever to be cast in night, in darkness as a even, more massive city floated nearly a mile overhead. It was the home of the Overlords, the planets masters who enslaved the worlds people for many reasons. The males provided a cheap workforce, or as slave warriors, even as entertainment in gladiatorial games. The females provided another kind of entertainment which was much more grotesque by an humane standards. They were used to pleasure the overlords in anyway their master want no matter how degrading. Their end was inevitable they would be consumed by the overlords. Sometimes their blood would be drunk from them in a kind of vampire-like ritual, or worse their flesh would be roasted and consumed while they still breathed.

The people of the once free world were utterly defeated…all those who survived the initial encounter had their souls sucked from their bodies. Even their best warriors fell, now pieces of these souls were to be distributed to massive amounts of genetically manufactured bodies suited to whatever caste the slave was to be put in. No memory of the previous life remained just enough for the slave to be functional. But at night some would see a single tear or two form in the eyes of a slave as if they for a second remained the days that once were…or was it hope that one day one of them would lead their people to freedom? None even considered such a thing for more then a millennia….but one slave would remember, not anything of his previous life which ended nearly a thousand years before but he remember emotions, feelings, a sense of a long failed duty of cause, most of all he would come the remember Defiance.

A lone man sat alone in a dark dirty alley. Alone covered in a long trench coat that was stained with grease, dirt, all sorts of nasty products. He was a like the enitre city itself beaten, broken and dirty.

Who was he? Try as he might the man could not remember his own name. His body felt strange, like it wasn’t even his own, as if he awoke one day in another’s body. What was happening to him? Why did he feel so strange, and the feeling of strangeness was not the worst of it. When ever he slept he had flashes, yes that was the only way to describe such things, flashes…perhaps dreams no not dreams but rather nightmares. The violence and pain they brought him, he was overwhelmed by a sense of failure whenever he had them he failed at something that cost him more then he could know. Also there were waves of a sense of betrayal and inevitability. They gnawed at what was left of his soul, or perhaps his raped soul was trying to reassert itself…

The worst thing was that he just couldn’t remember why he was tormented so or even where he was.

It was so cold here as he looked around the ruined city, but he didn’t even know where here was! He was so tiered so cold, exhausted he must sleep. He shivered hunched over and pulled his long jacket around his body for whatever good it would do him, and he wept for himself for soon he would sleep and the nightmarish “flashes” would begin again. After an hour or so the weeping stopped and the man slept, if you could call such torment sleep.

His breaths came in sharp, short, labored gasps, his body drenched in sweat. His long braided hair reached to his thighs. He felt the restraints which held his body spread-eagled to the metal rack that would be his death bed. This was the end, but he had a sense of accomplishment, for the overlords believed he was the last of the rouges, the final piece of the dissention. At least a small portion of the nation he loved so much would survive in a place even this enemy could not reach.

His moment of fulfillment was halted as a long needle was plunged into his chest directly into his heart. The pain was unbelievable and he screamed into his gag. A black serum was pumped into his blood stream and it quickly circulated throughout his body. He felt as if he were floating high above the clouds, in reality though his drugged brain was being programmed for download into a mere computer disk, his very soul was to be sucked from his body. As the transfer began the man uttered unintelligently into his gag his eyes rolling into the back of his head. As he died all his final though was when he was to be born again as a slave he would be bald.

The man life was over however his war was just beginning.