Child's Play: A Free Short Story (Science Fiction)
Welcome to Lore Publication, a place to find free short stories and free flash fictions for all your reading needs! We publish horror, science fiction, fantasy, thriller and mystery themed stories and invite you to join us and support our writers. We pride ourselves on bringing you thought provoking fiction at no cost at all; free reading for the avid bookworm.We realize that not everybody can afford new ebooks and free ebooks are a way of combating this problem. Our free stories are no different! Today we are publishing Child's Play, a dystopian science fiction tale for you to feast your minds on! The short story was first published over on Lore's medium page back in April 2018. With the launch of Lore Publication on blogger, it is now free to read right here! With all that said, enjoy! 😄
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| Image credit: Andre Koolme |
The huge ornate doors swung open and the oak creaked from centuries of use. The scores and scores of gallery members all turned their heads to face it. It was not until the doors had swung open in their entirety that the person getting marched through them became clear. There, in a bonding unit, stood a man. He was dressed down in a fiery red and jet black jumpsuit that contrasted with the ornate surroundings. Everybody found their attention focused on the man being escorted in by two bigger, armoured men that resembled guards. These guards wore plain white body suits with helmets and visors to match. As the man was marched down the central walkway between either sides of the gallery seating area only the sound of the heavy boots and naked feet on the polished oak floor could be heard.
*
Jane
lifted the cup from the counter letting it rest between her lips as
she drank the fresh orange juice. She heard the patter of feet along the
tiled kitchen floor and as she turned she found her youngest child pottering
towards her; a tired, dreary expression across his face.
“Morning
you, what do you want for breakfast?” The small child glanced up to his
mother with a somewhat frustrated expression as his face crumpled into a
frown. Jane reached down taking her son into her arms to cradle his
whimpering state, “What’s wrong pumpkin?”
“Tired,” the child whimpered.
“Aww pumpkin, let’s get you breakfast then,” the child shook his head,
“No.”
“A bath?” Jane asked. The child nodded,
“Uh huh.”
“Okay, come on then, let’s go,” another set of feet could be heard bumping down the stairs as Jane carried her son through from the kitchen into the hallway. Jane craned her neck to see her other elder son stumbling down the stairs in an almost zombified state, “Zane, hurry up or you will be late!” Zane sighed with a groggy voice,
“I won’t be late.”
“That was what you said yesterday! Get yourself fed and get your ass to school!”
“Okay,” Zane sighed and stumbled past his angry mother to head for the kitchen as Jane carried her youngest son up the stairs. Zane staggered into the kitchen with another sigh before heading for the fridge.
*
The
man found himself escorted to the front of the gallery seating segments
of a grand hall. The massive, decorative walls twisted upwards
in strands and pillars of carved wood; totems to a rich, cultural past.
They met an equally decorative roof, again, created from the carvings of
ancestors that lived in their society thousands of years prior. The
roof differed from the walls with their massive mirage of colours and
swirling patterns that made up a muriel. It depicted various idols from a
long forgotten past and various deities that society had long since
shunned, yet somehow felt the need to preserve. He found it strange how
such a prestigious entity would be allowed to keep such primitive
materials as the building blocks of its most famous institution. Not
that it mattered to him. The man found himself being ushered towards one
of the more recent additions to the hall; a repulser shield. The
technology to the man’s front seemed somewhat out of place;
juxa-positioned with the ancient carvings and preserved splashes of art
across the ceiling. Nonetheless the man found himself being scanned
past the shield and walked inside. As the shield hummed with re-activation, it sent a chill down his spine.
*
The
klaxon rang out in the classroom and Zane switched off his personal
archive. He watched the holographic displays sink away into the bevelled
cone-shaped disc and then took off his visor. He slid the coupled
technology into his backpack as everyone began leaving the room. Taking
one last glance to the teaching bot standing sentry at the front of the
room, he turned to find another boy about his age staring at him. Zane
stood from his desk,
“Sup’ Ro.”
“You coming out with us?” Zane shook his head,
“Sorry man no can do.” Ro scoffed,
“It isn’t the assignment is it?”
“No way,” Zane shoved Ro slightly, “I am going on Cortex.” Ro’s expression lit up,
"You already have it!" Zane grinned,
“Yup, come on over. You can have a shot.” Ro almost jumped at the idea, stopping to hesitate for a moment,
“What about your mum?” Zane shrugged,
“I’ll just say it is an assignment. We need to use our holo-kits anyway, she won’t be able to see what it is.”
“Sweet!” Ro bounced off out the class room, “See you around six?”
“Sure thing,” Zane replied zipping up his bag. He watched his friend bounce out the class room. He slung his pack over his shoulder, took one last look at the idle teaching bot, then left the class.
*
He
was sat down in a chair. It was isolated in the middle of the main
chamber. To his front he could see the range of Judicial Bots analyzing
him with their cold, mechanical optical movements in their version of
what human’s would call a face. He glanced to the right and then to the
left in turn to see two other rows filled by humans. The two guards
secured his bonding unit and positioned themselves at either side of the
chair he found himself restrained in. Each of the bots glared at him.
They were spindly constructions of bolts and circuits, their ‘heads’
jutting out from a rather thin looking torso. The optical units seemed
to be hollow half-spheres, with a holographic processing unit generated
in the scoop of this half-sphere. Each bot had its own colour. The one
directly to his front had a pure black and white holograph, whereas the
others had distinctly one domineering colour. As he scanned over his
judicators he knew deep down what was going to happen to him. All he
could do now was wait for the inevitable sentence to befall his ears.
*
Zane
gently pushed the door open. He slid his head in the side of the door
and glanced around. With a sudden movement he flung open the door and Ro
quickly slipped inside, gliding up the stairs as if he were a ghost.
Zane then, loudly, shut the front door.
“Zane?” he heard his mother, Jane, call out.
“Yeah?”
“Oh, nothing. Just wondering who came in!”
“Alright! I am heading upstairs!”
“Okay, be sure and come down to tell the bot what you are having to eat!"
“I will,” and with this, Zane followed his friend upstairs. Ro was already sitting eagerly glaring at the holo-circlet positioned in the middle of the room. Zane walked into the room and shut the door on the hallway.
“Where is it?” Zane chuckled ever so slightly,
“It is right over here, chill out.”
“I have so wanted to play this!”
“And you will,” Zane retorted, reaching into his holo-game shelf. He let his fingers glide along the various titles until he found the one he was looking for; Cortex. He took the small plastic container from the shelf and opened it up to reveal a small metallic sphere. He took out the sphere, walked over to the holo-circlet, and placed it in the middle of the concave structure. With the sphere perfectly in place he gave a holo-kit to Ro and kept one for himself.
“Set it to frequency, five, five, four, hash, three, four, six.” Ro nodded with enthusiasm and tapped in the code slipping on the visor. Zane followed suit. As Zane ran the program he watched as Ro’s face lit up with untamed excitement.
*
The
room was dimly lit and within it’s walls, one man. He sat in the middle
of this quaint room surrounded by the encroaching aura of darkness
that gripped him to his core. It was cold. It was quiet. The only sound
he could hear was the sound of his own blood pulsate around his body.
His gentle, yet fast, breathing was his only companion. His eyes granted
him nothing but a glimmer of light directly above him. All he could feel
was an overpowering sense of fear that kept him grounded. He didn’t
know what was happening to him. His memory was shrouded. He didn’t
know why or how but he knew, with every atom of his being, that he was
facing up to a primal instinct of fear. A primal instinct that told him
to run and never stop.
He
glared around his immediate surroundings to see nothing but darkness.
His last known memories were beginning to resurface; the gallery, the
ornate wooden pillars, the ancient ceiling paintings. It was only when
he recalled the Judicial bots that he began to realize where this place
was and - for a moment - he did not want to believe it. Every muscle in
his body trembled. Every bone in his body ached.
He
glanced around what he assumed to be some kind of chamber and weirdly enough his eyes
were wide open but granted him no information. The place smelled
unnervingly clean. The disinfectant stung at his nose and clawed its way
down the back of his throat like some invasive flavour of an exotic food. He found that his hands were still bound. Not only were
they bound together but they seemed to also be bound to the metallic chair
he sat on. He tried to move his legs to find the same restraints clasped
around his ankles; these restraints also bound to the chair. He could
feel a cold bead of sweat begin to trickle down from his brow into his
eye. His lips were cracked, dry, and peeling. His hair dirty and unkempt.
He glanced down to his naked body gleaming in the light projecting down
from above to find streaks of dried sweat sticking his body hair to his
irritated skin.
Then it happened.
His
head shot to his front as a whirring nose could be heard. It flashed
into existence with a loud screech that scared him. Whatever the noise
was, it seemed to be distant, but getting louder. Whatever was making these sounds was approaching him. As this strange whirring noise traversed the darkness
towards him he grew ever more curious about its origin and ever more
fearful to discover it. It was only when the noise could be
distinguished as being generated above him, that his head began to skew
towards the epicentre of whatever was generating it. His eyes pierced
the darkness to no avail. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the
sound disappeared. An eerie silence befell his surroundings. The sound
simply ceased to exist as quickly as it had appeared. Judging by the
amount of time the sound took to get nearby, he assumed the place he now
inhabited was fairly large, but the sound had generated no echo.
Then it happened again.
This
time the screeching sound seemed slightly faster; the whirring was
faster. The sound seemed to be equally distant as it was the first time
it appeared. The only difference being it was behind him this time. The
whirring sped up and the closer it got the more
it reminded him of some kind of drill. He recalled the ancient
drill devices dentists used to utilize in the 21st century and, to his
horror, it sounded almost identical. Visiting the museum was one childhood memory he wished he had never retained. The mechanical whirring grew ever
closer, just as it did before, only this time it didn't stop. He
anxiously tried to look to either side of him to try and catch any
glimpse he could of what was approaching him. As the sound grew
tremendously loud he began to feel a proximity sense tingle on the back
of his neck. Just before he screamed in frustration the whirring
stopped. Whatever was behind him vanished.
Suddenly,
he felt a burning, piercing pain penetrate the back of his neck. His
hands clenched the arms of the chair, his head jerked, and his lungs let
out a blood curdling scream. He felt some kind of hot instrument burrow
into the base of his neck. The blood spurted onto the metal and almost
instantly cauterised due to the immense heat. He felt the skewer drive
deeper into his flesh until its tip ground away at the bone of his
spinal column. He felt the hot metal melting away his skin around the
small entry wound. He felt the layers of fat in the skin tear. He felt
his own searing blood run down his back. The instrument stopped
moving and began heating up. The last thing he felt was a jolt as the
instrument pierced his brain stem.
*
“What did you do that for?” it was Zane speaking. Ro let go of the holographic spike in his right hand as he turned to Zane,
“What?” Zane shook his head,
“You get more points the more pain you cause?”
“Oh,” Ro paused, “I didn’t know.” Zane sighed,
“Let’s fire up another one.”
Information on the Writer - Before You Go!
We hope you enjoyed this science fiction short story from Stewart! You can check out his Twitter account here. Be sure to follow Lore here on Blogger as well as Twitter to keep up to date with our new releases!
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