mastin2 -> RE: Hunted|The Tragic Tale (7/27/2008 15:08:27)
“Transformation and the First Victims”
By now, it was already December…my 16th birthday had long-since passed and had merely been marked my first true training with a car. A service that would serve me well later. I drove to school and decided that I was beaten…Sifos had won. But I would live on a normal life again, at least, until I found some mean of striking back. Since I gave up on hacking, I decided to start writing again. All of my stories filled the gap that I had lost; my schoolwork would fill the rest. But Sifos still was not happy that the hacker was still on the loose, so he tracked me down. I had managed to lie my way into protection, but I suppose once my e-mail was found, it was only a matter of time until they tracked my real location down.
The day went like all days that followed, as I lived a normal life. I would most likely never bother Sifos again. But by the end of December, and a little far into January, my E-mail was finally tracked down. I had stopped using the e-mail, but that doesn’t matter. I had always used false addresses, but from a link I used years ago—and thought I deleted—they found my address, and my town.
Sifos pulled yet more strings, and in the end, it was decided that all who I had contacted would be ‘taken care of’. In other words, exterminated. I was not at fault, and had retired, and my last online act declared my retirement. So why he chose the path of death and destruction he did can only be described as pure evil. I…doomed them all…my family…my friends…Sifos was not bluffing. He charged at us with full force. I killed them. They’re dead. Any who escaped were lucky that I did not have a more deep connection with them. But…everyone that I truly cared for…I condemned them to death.
I have that moment burned into my mind forever and shall never forget the horrors of that day. On that day, I lost everything that made me who I was. I was at school, like any other day, but what made this day different is what happened at 12:30, the one time I knew all of my friends were at school, though I only know where two or three of them were. Like a tornado sprouting from the clouds, heavily armed men stormed the building in an instant; their speed was terrific.
Anyone who resisted was shot down, as if they were nothing but mere test subjects. I saw, from my view in the library, many of my friends shot, arrested, or worse. I even witnessed one person there get decapitated, as his arms, legs, what was left of his body, and his head all were scattered through different locations. This was…too brutal. I really did think, “Sifos may be evil. But how could…could anyone do that?” Total decapitation. It’s something worse than what I can ever try to describe. It’s the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen.
They were after me and the chaos that they were going after would not end until I was theirs. Or, at least, so I thought. The truth was worse; Sifos would kill all of the people there and cover it up. My mother grabbed my hand and shoved me into our car and told me, “Drive. Drive quickly and don’t stop until you are home!” I hit the pedal in reverse, stopped, switched gears, and then plowed through the men nearby. I imagine that they did not survive. But it did not matter to me. Nothing mattered except for surviving. I had taken precious few objects with me, most nothing but reminders of the school or objects with significant sentimental value. But one object I made sure to protect…my flashdrive.
My heart raced like never before, my mind set on escape. Every second passed felt like a minute, and my senses were far higher than they ever should have been. Adrenaline pumped through my system, the thumping of my heart showing my terror and dismay like never before. This was not supposed to be how it happened, yet it did. I watched every detail of the road, hoping that someone wasn’t there to ambush me. In what seemed like an eternity, I made it home and rushed to explain to any of my family what was happening…we had been viciously attacked, and needed to escape. But it was too late.
My father took out the guns we kept in a safe, hoping not to have to use them, but the armored cars we faced proved that the people blocking off our private road were dead serious. My father and brother stayed behind and urged me to run into the forest, with the hope of escaping. I did, but the gunfight that I heard proved that both had passed away in a brilliant attempt to try and save me. I ran with speeds that a sprinter would be proud of maintaining them for longer than probably most marathon runners in the world, and this is through the terrain that I observed with senses that I never knew I had. The rushing creek, the evergreens, the trees sprouting, the countless plants on the ground, and the wildlife nearby; I saw them all, but ignored them, wanting nothing but to escape.
But yet, my heart still was not filled with hatred…I still had the objects I valued most and had hope. I was running towards the nearest square-dancing home I knew of, knowing it likely would be safe. When I was there, they informed me that everyone at my school had vanished and about one out of ever four was dead. Numbers mattered not, as I just wanted to survive. Not a thought of vengeance crossed my mind, only the thought of, “Why?”
This could not have been legal, yet the government not only allowed it, but obviously was also running it and covering up the real facts. They called it an act of terrorism, and those seized were terrorists. The thought disgusted me, but the thought crossed my mind to try and fight this in some sort of court…find some way of bringing peaceful justice to those truly responsible for this. But that, too, would be shattered. It was decided that I’d be best in the hands of other square dancers, so when our club meet at our usual dancing place, another school, I might add, they did it again. This time, I was ready for them, and turned myself in, hoping to end things. At least not a soul was killed, but everyone there was seized for reasons that I was to childish to understand. I had wanted nothing but peace, so why this?
I was handcuffed and a bag was placed over my head. I was thrown into what must have been a truck, driven to a location that I could not know where was. At least my navigating skills would be able to get me back. That is, if I ever would. I was locked up in a high-security cell, my body propped up in a position locked facing the window and monitors, my whole body immobilized. Yet still, I felt no hate. Why is an enigma, but I found that most of my precious valuables were in their hands…including my flashdrive.
Things only got worse from there, and when I asked what this all was for, I got only cruel evil laughs from the window. But eventually, they informed me of the truth to torture me further…every person that I had ever come in contact with for the last three years was imprisoned here or killed. I watched on the monitors they gave me helplessly as friend after friend was slain; some people that I did not even know had been included! They were ruthless.
I watched this for months, and months, and months more. I had no idea how much time had passed, but I learned later that it was already August. I had passed my 17th birthday without even knowing it. And then, it came down to those I held closest…my family, Andy, Dallas, and one other who I won’t speak the name of out of my respect and mourn for her. I then watched them simultaneously be executed by firing squad, then hanged, and then acts so horrid I dare not describe them.
My eyes had watered from so much pain; I tried with all my strength to turn away, but could not. I closed my eyes, only to have them forced open. I was forced to also watch my house, the forest I had known, my school, my favorite locations, and more all burn. Yet I still felt only regret, no hate. None after all of that. They even destroyed almost every object I had known, leaving only what I had on my body and my flashdrive. They had exterminated everything. This is the power of a tyrant, not that of law.
But then, the cruelest torture would be carried out on me to satisfy Sifos’s evil intentions. I could clearly see these people were working for him, though some appeared to be working for the president. How do I know about the latter type? Because they were the ones who were obviously showing signs of distress, but could not speak up out of fear.
They began injecting me with a substance meant to erase all of my pleasant memories, but I will not forget those. Nor could I back then. I almost felt them leave me forever. They wanted to leave me with nothing but dread before my death. I would not allow it. But it also had other purposes…it destroyed most of my imagination. I felt my thoughts warping. Instead of pouring my brainpower to fantasies, I think they were aiming to make me think more and more about what I had done.
It also changed me physically to actually be stronger. Stronger so that I could die just that much later. If that wasn’t enough, it carried emotional modifiers; they were purposely making me hate them. THAT worked. It might not have, but I am guessing they figured out my weakness; at the same time they were injecting me, they smashed my flashdrive. I watched them crunch it into a million pieces and then burn in a brilliant blaze. My life ceased being what it was at that moment. The loss of my flashdrive under the influence of a permanent drug removed most of my feelings of happiness and compassion I had ever had.
The combination changed me and my strict beliefs were broken…before, I had sworn never to harm another living being intentionally, and also to never shed anyone’s blood but my own. Yet this moment changed me. It brewed my feelings of hatred to a boiling point; I could contain it no more. I swore that Sifos was worse than Kad. Who’s he? He was from one of my books and he was pure evil, just for the profit in it. ‘Evil makes more money than good’, a line I had meant to put in there. I’d tell you to contact anyone in my area; all had read the story, but Sifos had them all killed. He had the leading expert besides me, Andy, killed as well, so not a soul will ever know the countless hours I spent writing my life away.
I vowed, I swore, I clenched my fists so hard they bleed in a blood oath to myself, that I would have vengeance. I would have my revenge; I would not forget. I would not forget the terrible crimes of this one person, and I would kill him with my own two hands! I swore, as my tears ran down to the ground in what must have been a waterfall, that my regret, my remorse, my sheer dread at the loss of all I knew, would be the death of Sifos and all who would stop me.
I swore that I would destroy his evil from the land, prevent him from ever harming another innocent life. This had gone far enough; Sifos would pay for making the monster he had in the form of me. Nothing else mattered anymore. My soul purpose for life being vengeance. My very reason for not giving in to the sorrow that I felt. I would not forget, and I would make sure Sifos wouldn’t either.
My mission had begun, if only I was able to get out. But on what was to finally be my execution day, I got my chance. I was removed from my deathbed, my restraints lifted from the torture. I was to be shown ‘mercy’ and be given lethal injection. But they should have kept me tied up. Half way across the country, though, Sifos wanted to watch this himself, and saw no fun in watching my die in the confines of that room.
When a man came into the room, I picked up the smallest of the small objects, something thought to be harmless…a little pin used on the board nearby had caught me attention and I grabbed it. I took hold of this small pin, aiming for that poor man’s eyes. He probably was just following orders, but orders of Sifos were deathsentences to me. I stabbed one eye, causing him to cover it and shriek in pain, blood pouring like a slit vein, and I then aimed for the other. This was my wrath; my fury would kill them all.
I took the syringe he held and injected it into him, instantly causing him to collapse, dead. I knew not how long I had been locked up, and had not seen the world for months. So for causing so much pain, they would die. I charged out of the room with adrenaline pumping my heart faster than even my escape. My senses seemed enhanced by that little drug they gave me. I could hear my heart racing. I could hear the guards screaming. I could hear the alarm ringing. I could smell the fear in the air, both mine and theirs. I could taste my hatred on my tongue.
I viciously attacked a guard sent to try and restrain me upon my escape, but my rage would not stop me. I killed him using some previous martial arts experience, stealing his sidearm the second he fell. All who got in my way were shot. Mercy was a word that I had forgotten the meaning of. I swept through the facility. I could have left, but I needed to know if any people had survived. None. So I killed them all. All the guards, all the people there to torture me for what I had done.
I stole all the weapons I could carry and I mutilated any who got on my nerves…I had torn one person in half and beheaded another. My fury was endless, and this was just the beginning. Them all dead, I left the facility in the clothes you see me wearing today and hijacked the closet car to me.
This was the beginning of the greatest manhunt in history, the greatest tragedy known, and the greatest amount of killing on par with full-scale war. This is what this would become. A war of the world against the outlaw who had a mission. I would kill them all and would not rest until Sifos burned in the underworld from my wrath. I had transformed; only a mere fraction of me was human any more.
The rest had been stolen by the purer than pure evil known only as Sifos. I will not, cannot, forgive myself for what I have done, nor can I forget what they did. But this is just what had begun. This is just when my name had become known. You all know that my reign of terror over Sifos had just begun, and would not end until this moment I talk to you today. This tragedy had just started to heat up and burn my soul.