The Outlands
Corruption and wickedness overflows in the city of Dead Heart. No other life exists far away from it or its evil. The city’s walls reaches to the heavens to protect the citizens from outside creatures and divide the city into seven districts. These seven districts all have unique ways of life, and yet it matters not. For the majority born are fated to be servants of a system where the few powerful rule and good is crushed by the heel of evil.
Even beyond its walls, no hope can be found. Outside of the city is the area known as the Outlands where the city’s garbage and waste are dumped into large mountains of useless material. The ground is always darkened by the variety of liquids that pour from the heaps. Rot, decay, trash, and death overpower any possible pleasant smell in this place. These lands can only be enjoyed by the rats and bugs that feast upon the unpleasantries of trash.
Venture too far into the Outlands, and one will reach the mysterious mountains. These dark, forested mountains encompass the entire Outlands and the city. No one dares to traverse these mountains as those who have tried were never seen again. The last barrier between humanity and an unforgiving realm.
Some flee to the Outlands hoping to get away from the grasp of the city, but they find the same cruelties here. Deadly creatures roam the Outlands seeking their next meal. These creatures hunt each other or any desperate person wandering the land. Within this wretched land, seven individuals journey. Each of them here for their own reason and soon to be drawn together by fate.
On the dirt, a light skinned woman lies on her stomach waiting to spring a trap on some mice. Her golden hair no longer shines with all the muck covering it. In her early forties, her age is unapparent as she managed to keep a youthful exterior. Her once splendid white dress, torn and scratched, went down to her knees, seeped in filth. The boots she wore stood out as it did not match her clothing.
She despised her current state of looks, but understood it no longer mattered. Her stomach was roaring for some, any kind of food. A rudimentary trap was set up. She would pull a string once a mouse was underneath, and the rodent would be caught and eaten. Sitting like a lioness, she waits for prey to come into view. When a mouse started to approach, her eagerness betrayed her as she pulled the trap too early letting the mouse escape.
A sigh of disappointment escaped her, and she staggered over to the trap to set it up again. She stared at the trap for a minute, pondering on why she was here in this moment, almost loathing herself for it. Her daze was broken by her rumbling stomach. She reset the trap and turned towards her shelter, her pitiful two sticks of metal holding up a roof hut. The emptiness in her soul began to match with emptiness of her stomach, yet she moved back and lied underneath the pitifully slim shade the hut provided. To eat again was her only motivation for living.
Not too far away in the Outlands, an older gentleman with dark skin stepped through the dirt path ahead of him. His hair was short and of silver color. The small wrinkles all throughout his body demonstrated not just the passing of time but the toils of labor. His clothes were on the simple side, since he was dressed in a plain grey button up shirt with white pinstripes running through it. He wore dark green overalls that ran over his large brown boots. His body looked healthy for his age, but there was still a gut to him. That gut added to his aura of charisma rather than took away. Those who saw this gentleman recognized he knew not only hard work but people as well.
A large tan backpack around half of the size of the man was strapped to his back, and he carried it with ease. Some small pans and other tools were hanging off the sides and some clothes were pushing through the overstuffed pockets of this bag, a testament to the preparations he made for this journey.
With such preparations, a stranger would think he knew where he was going. Incorrect, he had not a clue. His destination was the Outlands, but now there, he was aimless on where to walk to. Wandering through, he glimpses the shape of a bare bones trap, a box and string. At first, he ignored it, but after squinting at it, he realized it was intentionally there. Curiosity guided him over to the intriguing trap.
With a clear view of the trap and reaching its area, he casually scanned the surroundings and spotted a pair of eyes staring at him, the blonde woman. The intense gaze pressed upon him, and he noticed a sharp rusty metallic object in her hand. She was ready to strike the moment he proved himself a threat. Stepping back and putting his arms up, he carefully spoke, “Sorry miss. I hadn’t the slightest intentions of alarming you. I was just observing your trap here.” She did appear to be moved by his words. The man intended to back out of the sight of the woman, but the loud growling of the woman echoed between the two. The woman was embarrassed before returning to her menacing gaze.
It would have been easy for the man to leave, yet he could never let someone go hungry, not if he could help it. Slowly, he started reaching into a pocket of his backpack. The woman jumped to her feet pointing the dagger and ready to lunge. He extended arm silently, asking her to wait. The man fumbled around the pockets of the bag as he kept his eye on the woman. In these extended seconds, the air felt thick and could snap in a moment. Both were ready to react if the other made a drastic mood. The tension was rising, but it soon lightened when he finally managed to pull out a piece of dried jerky from the bag. Still cautious with his movement, he offered the jerky to the woman who was confused by this kindness, suspecting a trap.
She wanted to ignore it, demanding the man leave immediately, but her desperation to eat motivated her to start approaching the jerky. The man lifted his finger and pulled the jerky back. “In my business,” he explained, “Nothing is free, but I’m willing to cut you a deal for this here jerky.” The woman, almost willing to just attack for the meat, sternly asked, “What is your price?” A light chuckle came from the man before he answered, “Your name, miss.”
“Baba,” the woman coldly answered.
The man extended the arm with the jerky towards her, saying, “All right. You paid your price. Here’s your meal.” Baba kept the dagger pointed at the man as she nabbed the jerky from his hand. Once it was safely in her grasp, she immediately began to devour jerky.
A squeal of delight erupted from her mouth as she exclaimed, “My goodness, this is the best jerky I’ve ever had, perhaps maybe even the best meal.” Her demeanor was relaxed as she fully focused on the meal.
The man laughed out loud. “I do take great pride in my food, but I think the seasoning of starvation has made it far greater than it actually is.”
“Nonsense,” Baba said with food still in her mouth, “I’ve had luxury meals before, but this is beyond them all.” Baba finished the jerky, embarrassing herself in the process, and told the man, “Thank you, so much for that meal. May I get your name, and if you can spare it, more food?
The man was delighted to share what he could with Baba. He cheerfully told her, “The name is Billy John, but just call me Billy. I may have gone overboard when it came to food preparations, so let’s share a meal together.”
Baba relaxed and gestured towards her hut. “Take a seat in front of my, if you can just imagine with me, humble home.”
“I’d be delighted to,” Billy happily responded as he moved to the hut. Placing down the pack, he opened up the pocket with breads and jerkies. Baba could not help but salivate, yet she held her composure the best she could. This composure would break the moment she had her hands on the food consuming it like a beast. Billy looked at her curiously and asked, “Haven’t eaten much of a good meal in a while? Tell me, why are you out here starving in the Outlands?”
Getting caught with a lack of manners, Baba blushed and responded, “No, I haven’t had a good meal in so long. I packed plenty of food, but it ran out. When I had plenty of food, I considered hunting to be a simple task, but I found myself lacking in survival skills. As for why I’m here-,” she turned away from Billy. The joy on her face disappeared during her rumination. In a dazed state, she spoke, “I had to leave. Enemies were made. There’s nothing left for me there. Better to starve here than go back to that wretched city.” She noticed Billy’s concern on his face, and like a professional actor, she changed her tone back to a happier one. “Don’t worry about it. I want to know about you. How do you make such wonderful food and what are you doing here in the Outlands?”
Billy was caught off guard by the subject becoming about him. He adjusted himself, taking a bite of his jerky and started, “I’m a bar owner in District E. I’ve ran that wonderful little place for years, and in that time, you pick up a thing or two about cooking.” He proudly pointed towards the jerky in his hand. “Why I’m here is a different story. I’m looking for my son.” His voice turned into a serious tone. “He went out and got caught up with the wrong crowd. I decided as the father, it was up to me to bring him back. There have been so - so few clues. The Outlands is the last place that might lead me to the biggest clue I need.”
Baba leaned in. “What’s the clue?” she asked. Billy leaned towards her about to whisper something in her ear, but before he could, the ground had a low quake. The two stood up to their feet, Billy grabbing his bag. Before they could act further, a giant dark blue worm with spikes made up of the trash found in the Outlands erupted from the ground towering in the sky.
The behemoth of a creature was hundreds of feet away, but with its proportions, closing the distance between it and the two humans would only be a few seconds. Both Baba and Billy were stunned. Baba shouted, “Run!” and the two started to dash as fast as they could. The worm’s speed was frighteningly fast for its size and it charged through mountains of garbage with ease. Baba knew she could outrun it but could tell Billy was struggling while carrying the bag. She was about to shout at him to drop the bag, but her thoughts were interrupted by a small truck accelerating towards them. This small dark green truck with a large open trunk briefly stopped in front of Baba and Billy. A figure, whose face was covered by a scarf and dark goggles, was driving the truck and shouted at the two, “Get in!” Without hesitation, Baba climbed in and helped Billy up. The moment the two were safely in, the truck immediately began its zoom away from the worm. The truck was fast enough to get away from the worm, but it began to chase after the truck, much to everyone’s despair.
Not too far away in the Outlands, a man fights for his life. A hoard of arcane corpses had risen from the ground to consume him. These are corpses that have managed to get to the Outlands, and while they were there, the corpses happen to fuse with the experimental material tossed into these lands. This mix of death and arcane creates a walking husk of a body with a variety of protruding metals and objects. These undead creatures devour living things, absorbing the energy within.
The target they chose was no mere victim. The man expertly dealt with the mindless corpses. When they were near, he drew his blood red rapier and pierced their skulls. When they were far, he lifted his left arm which had a tattoo of a skeletal hand matching his. The tattoo began to glow, and he fired a blast of violet crackling magical energy towards the corpses.
The man in his desperate struggle looked to be in his early thirties. The top of his head was of black matching his mustache and goatee. He had a longer but noble face. His suit was violet with a white undershirt and had matching violet pants. The buttons of the suit were shaped to look like skulls. Outside the chest pocket of the suit, a silver locket’s chain could be seen. He dodged the corpses in his black leathery shoes. They were decorated with golden chains, but one had its chain broken. The expensive attire was more than just for looks. It proved itself to be made for life and death situations just like the wearer.
Inevitably, the man proved himself the victor of the struggle. He let out a large exhale and returned to his meander in the Outlands. There was an aura of misery about him. He was either looking upon the dirt of the ground or high up into the grey sky. Deep in thought, he was creating plans, but they were quickly dismissed much to his frustration. To help with pain, he occasionally opened up the locket and observed the image inside.
He did not make it far before he heard the click of a gun. Without hesitation, he spun around pointing his tattooed arm at the assailant. The woman holding a gun was of short stature, yet she stood out against the bleakness of the area. Her hair was a bright teal and was shaped into two puffy ponytails like cotton candy. Her face consisted of some light make up, yet her eyes contrasted by resembling the eyes of a killer. This contradiction returned as she wore a baby blue, frilly dress with black and white stockings on her legs that went into her sneakers. These sneakers had been handcrafted to look like ferocious bears with a tint of cuteness.
On her back was a large mallet, and in her hand was the loaded pistol aiming at the well suited man. Both stood without fear as they pointed death at each other. The man was exhausted, but the woman was not. Perhaps she was taking advantage of his exhausted state. Rather not wanting to get into another fight, the man called out in his smooth voice, “Why do you aim your weapon at me, madam? Must we be enemies of these forsaken lands? There is no purpose in bloodshed.”
The woman just snickered and replied in a higher pitched voice, “I know what you are. I know who you are. Killing you would make me a legend among mercenaries.”
The man rolled his eyes. Another killer looking to hunt him not for his bounty, but for some fictional status like legendary. Her coming into the Outlands meant that she was likely no slouch when it came to combat, ranged or melee. The man needed a way out so he proposed, “Listen madam, no one would be around to witness your victory, and besides, I am tired. Would you rather not fight me when I have more strength? Wouldn’t that be more honorable? Let me count to three, and on the number three, we drop our weapons. We go separate ways, so that I may rest. Then we can have our legendary duel! How does that sound?”
Tilting her head and considering the proposal, never letting her eyes off the man, she nodded and confirmed, “Agreed. I will take you upon your request. I seek only the best of combat. If you truly are at your weakest, then I will wait for you to return to your full might.”
With her confirmation, the man nodded and started the countdown. When he reached the number, they remained still. Both kept themselves like statutes pointing deadly weapons at each other. The man in cautious confusion asked, “You seemed to have not brought down your weapon. Do you not wish for a noble fight?”
The woman scoffed, “Noble? In our livelihoods? Don’t think you can fool me with your pleasant words. The only thing that matters in this world is victory by any means. Besides, don’t you put all the blame on me. You kept your weapon up just as much as I did.”
The man was annoyed and impressed that his plan failed. His usual trick of getting his enemy to lower their weapons in the promise of a duel usually leads to an easy kill. This woman he was facing may look childish and give the aura of unprofessionalism, but she clearly knew what it took to be a killer. Since the man was impressed, he wanted to know a bit more about who he was facing. He asked her, “What is your name, madam? You clearly know the tricks of the trade.”
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“Mimi,” she said cheerfully, “I am soon to be the most famous mercenary in the city. Everyone will know my name.” Returning to a deadly tone, she asked, “What about you? I know you are the Evil, but I want to know your real name. While I’m asking, why are you here?”
“I am Voltaire,” the man said with grace. “I have retreated to these lands to find safety from my enemies in the city. I will return someday, but for now, I plan my return.”
They were both satisfied with the answers given to them, yet they were still stuck in this stalemate. Both of them held their weapons at the other, plotting on how they could get the upperhand in the situation. Voltaire was considered firing at her gun to disarm her, making an easy fight. Mimi eagerly waited for his move. Confident she could take whatever tactic he tried.
Before either could act, a corpse jumped out of the ground to attack! Voltaire swiftly aimed his tattoo down and blasted the corpse. Worried about his opening, Voltaire looked to Mimi expecting her to attack, but he saw that she too was under threat from other arcane corpses. He considered taking the chance to kill her, but more arcane corpses quickly rose out of the ground around both individuals. This led them both to naturally backing up to gain space and accidentally come back to back with each other.
Voltaire spoke up as he faced his new enemies, “Well madam, we seem to have a common enemy at the moment. May we have a truce at this time to defeat our foes?”
With excitement, Mimi smiled and pulled her mallet from her back. It had a painted red angry face on each of the blunt ends. “I think we can be allies for now but just try to stay on my level, m’kay?” She launched herself towards a hoard of arcane corpses and with one swing of her mallet, crushed the group. Voltaire briefly stared in amazement, relieved to not have fought her, before continuing his fight with the arcane corpses.
The two demonstrated their skills by killing the corpses quickly. It was a swift, barely noticeable battle, but before either could attack the other, the ground began to tremble. Not too far, they could see a large worm burst out of the ground, heading towards them. Turning around a hill, a truck drove towards the fighters. It reached a halt, and the driver of the truck remarked, “The Outlands sure is full today. I’d get in the back if you two want to live.” Voltaire did not hesitate and hopped into the back of the truck which already held two other individuals. Mimi stared at the approaching worm, desperately wishing to it fight, but her senses came to her. She climbed into the back of the truck, and the truck resumed its run through the Outlands as the worm followed from behind.
At the base of another mountain in the Outlands, a person dug through the mountain desperately searching for something. This individual could be described as a shadow. The shadow wore completely black clothes from the bottom of their foot, to the black gloves covering their hands, and to to their black hood covering the top of their head. The individual wore a mask with glowing white dots that served as their eyes. They had matching black bag around the side of their waist. Inside, four glass vials holding a green liquid clinked around.
The shadow continued their search for whatever item they were looking for. As they dug, they discovered a large peculiar object. The silhouette was similar to a person yet looked metallic. Curiosity overcame the shadow, and they began to tug on the arm of this object. It took the shadow removing some debris on the top and a few minutes of pulling before the object came out.
Once it was revealed to the light of day, the shadow simply observed it. The machine was a six foot, bronze robot that had the generic anatomy of a person except its face consisted of two unlit lights for eyes and dozens of dots for its mouth. The machine had the Outland’s signature dirt, grime, and mold all throughout making the intact machine look unsalvageable.
The shadow marveled at the complex machine before looking for a way to open it. Searching the machine’s body, the shadow found a button on the back of the machine’s neck which opened up the chest. Moss and mold covered the inside of the machine, growing on the intricate wires and various parts. The shadow gently searched through the machine till they came across a black box where a human’s heart would be. The black box had the words “The Whale” engraved on the front. Opening the box up, the shadow was disappointed to find an empty vile inside. They took out the empty vile and threw it away in frustration followed by them beginning to walk away. After a couple of steps, they stopped and turned back to look at the machine. They pondered to themselves before giving into one of their queries again. Going back to the machine, they took out a vial of clear green liquid, Cells. They dipped their finger into the vial taking less than a drop. Whispering some words, the traces on the finger began to glow. As fingers began to hover over the inside of the body, a dim light shed from it, and this light began to remove the dirt and grime of the machine. When the shadow was done, the inside of the machine was near perfectly clean.
Cells are the fuel of what individuals call magic in this realm. With the right ingredients and words, Cells can produce a wide variety of effects. Though the shadow’s effect took a small amount of Cells, most magical effects consume a larger portion of Cells. It is a valuable asset even though it is not incredibly hard to come by within the nearby city.
The shadow concluded that the machine was powered by a vial of cells. Taking the same vial in their hands, they put the full in vial into the black box. Ironically, the shadow had hoped this machine had Cells to take but ended up giving it Cells in return.
A few seconds of silence passed before the machine began to make noise. Quickly closing the chest and stepping back, the shadow watched as the machine’s eyes began to glow. The creaking of the machine's joints could be heard as it started to raise itself to its feet. It began to scan the environment until its sight landed on the shadow who was readying to run if needed. Static noise could be heard from its mouth. At first, the machine was confused by the noise. Then it opened a hatch where its mouth speaker resided. The inside of the speaker was similar to the machine’s insides before the shadow cleaned it. The machine then started to produce the same magical effect from its hand as the shadow did earlier, cleaning the inside of its speaker.
The machine let out a clear, “Hello!” in a synthetic man’s voice. The shadow was taken aback by the intelligence of the machine. It was able to produce a magic effect with Cells on its own, something most machines are not able to do. “Hello!” the machine exclaimed again. The shadow gave it an awkward wave. The machine continued, “My name is ERROR. I am from ERROR, and I am here to help with ERROR.” The machine paused. Each error it spoke sounded more robotic than how it normally spoke. The robot configured itself for a minute before speaking. “My apologies. It seems some of my inner memory has been corrupted. Please forgive me for this inconvenience.” It finished with a bow.
The nervous shadow responded with the voice of a young man, “Oh no, it’s not a problem. Maybe this is all my fault. I didn’t realize just how bad of a state you were in. I was just curious.”
The machine shook its head. “You have made no mistake. Even if I am lost in identity and in purpose, I am still grateful that you have reactivated me.”
“Well, I’m glad you feel that way,” the shadow answered, leading to a pause between the two. Neither had a clue on how to continue the awkward situation they are in. Breaking the silence, the shadow asked, “So, what do you plan to do now?”
“I-,” the machine considered for a moment, “do not know. I have no purpose.” It stopped speaking and looked towards the distance. “I think I would like to recover my lost memories, yet I do not know where to start.”
The machine was staring blankly out into the distance. The shadow observed the machine, and proposed a deal. “Would you like to come with me to my goal?” The robot turned its gaze toward him. “I am looking for somewhere, and I could use the help. I can’t make any promises that it will lead to you recovering your memories, but I’d help where I could.” The robot naturally asked, “Where is it that you are going to?”
“Paradise,” he uttered to the sky. “That’s where I long to go. It is a place where harmony is heard, the air is fresh, and beauty shines everywhere. There the lost are found, and the separated are united. Nobody fights for there is no need to fight. Everything is in abundance, the great food, the pure water, and the glorious love. I am going there.”
The machine tilted its head and asked, “Where is this Paradise? I have no recall of such a place. Since I do not retrieve an error, it seems that the name has never once entered my data banks.” The shadow gave a soft laugh. “It’s probably not been entered since it’s only a rumor.” “Why search for a rumor?” the machine asked curiously.
“Hope,” the shadow expressed, “It is the last thing that motivates people like me. People who have lost everything hold on and seek hope.”
The shadow stared towards the sky aloft with thoughts of paradise. There was a minute of silence before the machine spoke, “I too want to find this paradise.” The shadow brought his attention to the machine, “How come?” The machine replied, “I, like you, have lost everything. I am aimless and purposeless. It is only reasonable for me to conclude that I must go to this Paradise.” The machine then answered the question that the shadow almost asked. “My memories are no longer a part of me. As a machine without memories, I serve no purpose, but this means the purpose is mine to choose. I choose to go to Paradise.”
The shadow nodded. “Very well then. We will go to Paradise together. Before we go, I need to give you a name if you can’t recall your original. You wouldn’t mind, right?.” The machine agreed to a new name and this caused the shadow to wander in a circle for a bit. “How about Miracle,” the shadow exclaimed, “I find it poetic on two points. For it took a miracle to activate you, and we will both need a miracle to find Paradise.” The shadow waited eagerly for a response.
To their delight, the machine confirmed, “I do like the name Miracle. From now on, I am to be referred to as Miracle.” The shadow clapped his hands in delight and exclaimed, “Oh, I do love giving things a good name!” Miracle asked, “What is the name that you wish to be referred to as?”
“Well that’s easy its-” the shadow stopped himself before thinking for a minute, “Medoe. I can be referred to as Medoe.” His body language gave away signs of discomfort before he realigned himself back to the conversation.
Before the conversation could be continued further, the sound of a vehicle approaching followed by the large trembling and sight of the arcane worm. Both Medoe and Miracle both froze, but Miracle analyzed the situation quickly. “Medoe, we must make it into the oncoming vehicle,” Miracle commanded. Medoe nodded, and they both started running towards the approaching truck. With excellent timing both figures made it into the now crowded bed of the truck. Once the driver saw everyone was in, they accelerated the truck as fast as it would go.
The worm chased the vehicle for about a mile more before turning away seemingly as if it hit an invisible wall. It dived back into the ground leaving a large gaping hole that was soon filled by the mountains of trash. Everyone lying in the trunk was relieved.
With the vehicle safe from the worm, the driver stopped the truck near the bottom of a trash mound. The natural first question was asked by Voltaire. “Can someone please get this heap of metal off me!” he cried as Miracle laid atop Voltaire before promptly apologizing and getting off. Miracle was the first out and the rest followed. Mimi let out victorious, “Hah, and don’t you come back worm!” She then turned around to the group and asked, “Hey, why did it stop following us?”
Billy climbed out the truck as he answered, “I’m afraid I don’t know much about big ol worms like that, but I have an inkling of a feeling that our driver would know.” He and the rest of the group, some still getting out of the truck, turned towards the driver’s seat door and flew open.
Stepping out of the vehicle with their dark green, musty boots emerged a figure wearing green cargo pants, plain black shirt, and tattered lab coat. Taking off their scarf and goggles, they revealed themselves to be a dark skinned woman. She seemed to be around, but her expression was that of a veteran. After the goggles were off, they put on large round glasses with the glass on the right having a large crack in it. Their short, black hair was all a mess as it seemed to be cut by the woman herself. Though, a white streak of hair stood out in the mess of a head.
The woman looked towards the group and without hesitation began to explain, “We’ve reached the end of the arcane worm’s territory. We’ll be safe here. It is quite fortunate that those things have strict territorial senses. Otherwise, I doubt we would have made it. I didn’t calculate that there would be six, seven including myself, passengers in the truck. Had I known that I may have taken a different route or made some modifications.” After the woman finished, she looked back at the group and noticed them staring at her awkwardly. “What?” she inquired, “Did I forget a detail in my report?”
Baba spoke up first and kindly said, “No, what you said was very informative. It’s just - I think maybe - a more proper introduction would have been preferred, before the lecture.”
The woman, now awkward, said, “Yes, of course. I apologize. I haven’t had proper communication with people these years. My name is Ceri. You could consider me an expert survivor of these Outlands.”
Billy spoke up, “Expert, you say? Well, how long have ya been out here in these darn wastelands if you could consider an expert.” Ceri in full confidence stated she had been out there for ten years. There was a collective impressed expression on everyone’s faces. Billy continued, “I’ll admit. You are indeed an expert, but what are we to do now? I appreciate you saving me, but I have places I need to be at.”
Mimi and Voltaire uttered they needed to go back to the city. Medoe and Miracle stated that they had a journey to be taking. Baba alone was okay with just being safe from the worm, mentioning she had no plans to return to the city. Ceri, after hearing everyone’s grievances, said to them all, “I cannot control what you all want to do, but I should mention that the worm will be active around its miles long territory for six months.” With that info, most of the group groaned in disbelief. Ceri continued, “It is getting dark. For those who would like shelter for the night, I will offer my place of fortitude. Though-” her tone changed sharply, “do know many thieves have tried to take advantage of my hospitality. I made sure it did not end well for them. I advise you to not follow their example.” Billy, Baba, Medoe, and Miracle fearfully nodded in compliance. Voltaire and Mimi rolled their eyes but silently agreed to take a rest. With the sun setting, Ceri hopped in the truck and started driving it slowly up the hill.
They followed the truck towards a large hill with a cliffside. Piles of junk were surrounding the cliff and atop of it. Standing near the edge was a person made metallic structure. Getting closer, the structure resembled a small metallic hut. It was boxy and made up of various metals mended together. A window, each made of a different tinted colored glass, sat to the left and right of the large oaken door which had junk metal welded into it for reinforcement.
The truck was parked a couple of feet from the metal hut, and Ceri guided the group in. Baba cheered, “Oh I am so glad to have an actual structure over my head, instead of that pathetic scrap heap I made.” Her expectations were met with disappointment as she saw the inner area of the hut. It consisted of a singular room, and the ground was completely dirt with a fire pit in the center of the room. To the left side of the fire pit, was a musty mat on the ground, covered by a dirty brown blanket and stained pillow. On the right side of the fire pit was a metallic table and rusted chair. The top of the table was covered with various mechanical items sharing space with chipped and cracked bowls and other utensils. It was a suitable hut for one person but crowded for seven. Baba, reeling from her unrealistic expectations, whispered to herself, “A beggar can’t choose their meal, I suppose. Though, choosing a meal is something I do miss.”
Ceri sitting on the mattress gestured around, “It’s not much. But sit down and make yourselves comfortable.” As everyone began sitting where they could, Miracle said to the group, “From retained data, I know it is best for a group of unknown beings to share their names and experiences with one another, so that tensions may be relieved.” Miracle was right. There was a silent tension amongst the group, an air of distrust, so they continued, “Allow me to introduce myself. I am now referred to as Miracle. My previous name and programmed use has been lost to me. I am with the shadowy individual known as Medoe.” They gestured to Medoe beside them who gave an awkward wave to everyone. Mimi piped up next, proudly exclaiming to be an on the rise bounty hunter. Baba spoke her name and stated she was just trying to live in the Outlands. Up next, Billy announced his name happily and said he was looking for something in the Outlands. Ceri just stated that she lost her home and was forced to live in the Outlands.
Looking downcast, Voltaire was last. He said with melancholy, “Six months? I can’t wait that long. I have someone waiting for me in the city. Sorry, where are my manners? I am Voltaire, and I don’t know what to do. Even if I make it back, there may be no chance for me to reach who I long to see.”
His depressed feeling spread to Baba who stated, “I can’t go back either. I made a mistake and have made a dangerous enemy.” Medoe spoke up to Baba, “Me too. I did something that I can’t take back.” Ceri wished to contribute to Baba and Medoe but held their tongue. Mimi, starting to feel dour, said, “I didn’t make a mistake, but I do have a promise to keep. I’d hate to be a disappointment.” Billy patted her on the back and said, “Me too. I can’t fail my promise either.” With that the group fell into a state of silence. All of them reflecting upon their histories and situations wondering how they could have ended up in this wretched land.
Miracle, who felt no gloom, stated to everyone, “I am getting the feeling that most of us here are feeling lost. Perhaps, you all should be looking for Paradise?” Paradise, the word brought a glimmer of hope to their faces. They all started to think about what it meant to them, and why the word held such meaning to them. Recognizing this, Miracle suggested, “Should we all go around and talk about this Paradise? I’ve concluded that it might bring the spirit of the group up.” To help bring up the mood, everyone agreed upon Miracle’s suggestion and decided to talk about that wonderful place.
To Be Continued…