LLZ-16: Fades To Black
We put our government as if they are an omnipotent, omniscience being. Indestructible, all knowing, flawless. I still believe them and their doctrine, of course. All of the riches, happiness, and job security that I have gained were possible only by the help of our government. Nay, the government.
In contrast of the government, I am merely a human. Flawed, fragile, and ridden with anxiety. This is sinful to think about, but my faith in the government is not high enough to warrant a doubtless trust to them. Even now I still wonder what kind of grand strategy that they are cooking up for me. Because right now, an answer to that question is definitely going to make me feel better.
Currently, I'm bound by rope to a chair. Eyes shut, mouth gagged, kneecaps cracked. Can't run for an escape, struggle, or even scream. This is the worse case scenario that I haven't thought back then. Back when I decided to agree to that weird offer they called "call to glory". I'm way behind enemy lines without any communication lines available.
I'm captured, I'm bruised, I'm humiliated.
With these awful conditions that I'm in, there's a primal part of my brain that tries to search a light within a bleak, dark room. A faint light coming out of a proverbial hole on a wall gives me an idea. I gaslight myself to thing that this is not all bad.
I mean, the fact is, I'm still able to think about how awful everything is. Therefore, I'm still fortunate enough to think. After all, a man's value is determined by the content of their brain. I bet there are people out there suffering a fate much worse than mine, so I'll just pretend that this is but a test that I must go through.
swoosh
It's a noise of a sliding door. I can feel a presence getting closer to me, but I can't hear them walking. Everything is so quiet that I can hear my own heart beats. There's a faint smell of alcohol in the air. Not the beer kind, it's too strong for that. It gives me this feeling of sterile, like I'm inside of a hospital.
Lady
Bring these back. He doesn't need any medical. His kneecaps are okay now.
This woman is walking around me like a hound circling its prey. I'm helpless and speechless, literally.
Lady
Holy molly, I really did a number on you, didn't I. Thankfully, I have an experienced physician standing by to heal you. I have to say, you fought well against me, mister ex-officer.
Sukkot
HMPH! HMMMPH! HMMMMPH!
Lady
Ah, where are my manners. You, pull his blind and gag out. I want to have a conversation.
Four pair of rugged hands harshly pulls off the fabric that covers my eyes and mouth. My eyes are blurry, I can only see the clear white of the floor. While blinking, slowly, I can see a form of a woman standing in front of me. These eyes aren't adjusting properly, with my right eyes still closed and heavy to open. Drools are dripping out of my mouth, piling up behind the gag, some are already crusty and made my lips uncomfortable.
Madam Cat
You look like a bum, you know that.
But that's not a matter that needs to be discussed. We have something of greater urgency to be discussed. Let's start by reviewing the situation.
PTHOOO!
I spit in her direction. My muscles are cramped and everything feels sluggish. This is not my peak condition, shamefully. Those clumps of saliva and blood are landing right on her expensive looking shoes. She noticed, gives me a disgusted look, and wipe it away by rubbing it against my pants.
Madam Cat
Sorry, but drools aren't my kind of thing.
As I've said before you rudely interrupt me, we need to review the situation. In particular, your situation. Now let's us see here.
Number one, you landed and broke into my space, unannounced. Number two, you attacked me and my crew. Number three, you are making us spend precious resources just to heal your kneecaps. Then lastly, you're no where near your friends and family to help you.
Now tell me, what's the conclusion?
Sukkot
...
Guard
He is screwed, ma'am.
Madam Cat
Corrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrectomundo!
Youuuuuuuu, are screwed beyond any human perception and nothing, I mean, nothing, in this god given world can help you except me. So you better play nice now before I topple you off my building, gifting you to the abyss. Now do we have a clear understanding of our relationship?
I nod slowly, but I won't back down now. Another batch of saliva is forming in my mouth and I'm ready to spit soon. I can't punch her in this condition, but at least humiliation is never off the table. Her ego feels higher than the mountains, and I'm planning to bulldoze it over with all my might.
Madam Cat
So, mister guard here will give us a presentation about the current state of affair between us, and your lovely little stupid government called Milium. Lower the brightness please.
Oh my god, he's actually going to give us a presentation. An electric projector is lighting the white wall in front of us, forming a picture of some sort. It resembles our main island, Ha. Looking at it closely, there's dots and colored areas which represents the area occupied by each country on the island.
Guard
Alright let's do this. Currently, we are obviously far from the main island. Yet, it doesn't mean the politics between us are not felt up here. Apparently, you're a living breathing proof that Milium has some interest in our business. Now tell us something good about us before I click this button skip to the next slide. You won't like where this presentation is going.
Sukkot
What do you want...
Guard
An answer to a question that you already know we're asking.
Why are you here?
Sukkot
Bad luck.
Madam Cat
Nope, not satisfying enough. You have to elaborate more on your purpose being here, if not, this man here will click to the next presentation slide.
I have no idea what's waiting for me on the next slide. This is definitely a very weird torture method, at least based on what I've done in the past. I really thought that they are going to exploit my broken kneecaps by now, but they didn't. In fact, they fixed it as soon as I'm unconscious.
Sukkot
Try me. I've been trained for this before, you're not getting jack shit from me.
Madam Cat
Okay, let's play rough then. Next slide.
The next slide is incredibly unremarkable, at least compared to what I expected. It's just a picture of some men in civilian clothing, carrying black plastic bags. I look over to Madam Cat with an unimpressed expression. Her face doesn't move, but I can feel that I'm missing something important there.
She walks around me and put both of her hands on my shoulder. She wants me to look at the presentation again. Yet, I still can't find anything wrong with it. I have no idea who these people are after all.
Madam Cat
This photo here is taken in a still-undisclosed location, over thirty years ago. The men that you're seeing right now are not ordinary people. They are fighters, soldiers, god among men. No rank, no status, not even a cool nicknames. But they cover what they lack in with an unfaltering desire to punish those who wronged their families.
Let's zoom in and explain three of person shown here. From far to the left wearing a white scarf, twisted around his head, is a man called "Zainuddin". He is the head of operation of an organization which is called "True God Fighters".
The evil empire people at your office tends to call them "Militants" instead though. I'm sure you've seen this man through wanted posters before. But I'm getting ahead of myself here.
Zainuddin was an honest worker of the Milium government, acting as a white collared manager for a news paper agency. But then his heart was opened after seeing his friends getting hanged and tortured in broad daylight because they are calling their own government as "incompetent". This incident happened right around after the price of food surge in an astronomical rate because your higher ups decided to make a birthday party that lasted for a month straight.
He then decided to rebel by feeding off information from his work environment to a then-still-small club of anti-government workers and started to organize a protest. A peaceful protest that turns into a bloodbath so massive that it became a headline in every other country, except yours. Have you heard of the "dark sunday tragedy"?
Sukkot
Those are lies! Lies made by criminals to justify their hatred towards our mighty and true government! Our god!
Madam Cat
Well, your "god" is made out of committee of human beings. They decided to not publish a ten hour long proof that "dark sunday" ever happened. I don't think I have the time to let you watch those ten hour footage.
Instead, I found a very condensed video, showing all of the lowlights, right out of peertube's video directory. Hit it please.
The guard goes to the next slide and play a video shown in it. I can see that it runs for about a minute, so I'm not expecting much out of this. If they are expecting me to cringe because of a random video clipped from the uninet, then they have no idea what I'm all about.
Wait, is that my father?!
Madam Cat
So, you must be pretty experienced with that building in the background. Yeah, its the core government tower. In front of it, is two million protesters, painstakingly walking towards the city center from all over the country. Our intelligence over there documented almost everything. Incidentally includes your father, standing just right there in the edge of the frame. Thirty plus years younger and still kicking. But kicking isn't the only thing he's capable of. Watch closely.
That kid right there is called "Xiao". We found no other identification or backstory about him, except his name. We got it from a hand written notes behind a photograph that we found, from his dead parent's body. Xiao is now dead, blasted away by your father's gun. A point blank distance, he is but a first of many.
Sukkot
Again, this footage is taken out of context! Our government was attacked by those angry mobs and have no other choice but to stand up and defend themselves! Look at them with their chants and angry voices, who knows what the poor officers inside the building could do beside this!
Madam Cat looks at me with her sharp eye and pauses the video. She then stands in front of me, blocking my view. The guard is readying his gun, pointing it towards my face.
Madam Cat
That is correct. Casualties were inflicted towards your father and his friends. 13 officers were harmed if we counted correctly.
Sukkot
Fifteen, it was fifteen very brave men.
Madam Cat
Alright, thanks for giving us the official numbers. I will definitely correct it in our thirty years old report. But can you remind us about the injuries sustained by those men? Like, what causes it.
Sukkot
I don't owe you shit, figure that one out yourself!
Madam Cat
Oh that was a rhetorical question Ex-Officer Sukkot.
Sukkot
Senior! Ex-Senior-Officer!
Madam Cat
That doesn't mean anything to us.
Continuing the rhetorical question, we know what happened to those thirteen bastards which includes your father. They suffers from a common injuries that happened to be associated with policemen that specializes in riot management. Colloquially named as "Blastback Muscles".
You've heard of this term before?
Did you know why your bastard of a father got Blastback Muscles?
Did you know that's caused by repeated usage of XV-39 ten gauge shotgun, continuously for hours?
Did you know that your father killed and maimed civilians, hundreds of them, two hundred thirteen of them to be exact?
Did you know that he's just a part of a bigger curse to your nation because the total of deaths within that day is two hundred thirteen thousand four hundred and fifteen grown human beings? Let's not mention the under represented number of children who doesn't have an ID yet.
Sukkot
FUCK OFF! YOU KNOW NOTHING BUT LIES!
Madam Cat
FUCK YOU! I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, YOUR CURSED FATHER, YOUR DEAD WIFE, AND THE FATE OF YOUR UNBORN CHILD!
I slumped on my back, speechless. Those words pierce my body and soul. The chance of them knowing this news are almost zero, thanks to the government's involvement and cover ups. My mind wanders around, as if I'm having an out-of-body-experience.
Her face is still close to mine, with spits flying towards my face. Everything is moving in slow motion, my mind can not comprehend the realness of this situation. Somehow, my eyes doesn't adjust to the text projected onto the walls, as if I'm in need of prescription glasses.
It hurts.
My head hurts.
My heart hurts.
Fades, to black.