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Once Human
Chapter One - The 300 miles club

Chapter One - The 300 miles club

Chapter One - The 300 miles club

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The pungent flavour of raw onion assaults my taste buds as the blackness of the back of my eyelids come into focus, and I resist the urge to spit. 

I mentally wince at the thumping headache rampaging in my skull as I repeat the words that have become something of a morning after mantra. -"I really should stop eating onion and cheese before bed. And drinking. I really need to stop drinking."

Groggily, without opening my eyes for fear of the light, I attempt to straighten my neck and stretch, miserably failing as nothing seems to respond to my commands and panic starts to well up.

As fast as it appears, the panic fades into a surreal sensation, one where I can think somewhat clearly but can't feel much. Similar to the drunken haze where you are trying to work out what's going on but actually being able to think which in its own way, is pretty disconcerting. -"Am I still drunk? That's it, no more brandy for me."

The thought of drinking at the moment makes me want to hurl. That is if I could move.

A metallic hum, one you would expect to come from a fridge or old computer resonates deep in my chest before a pleasant, feminine voice breaks the monotonous silence, interrupting my the regrets that I could never resist.

"Welcome. I will be using the terminology you are most familiar with to reduce confusion, however, be aware that not everything will be directly translatable and you should think carefully about what you will consider fact."

-"OK... weirdest dream ever. Paralysed and a girl that hasn't even introduce herself yet is telling me what to do. Did someone slip something into my drink?"

"Firstly, congratulations on being selected for the New Generation Project. In a moment, we will re enabled your ability to open your eyes and look around. Infront of you, you will find a screen that will provide visuals to aid in your orientation. It is advised that you pay attention to the available information to increase your chances of survival."

I wince, or at least to, as the thumping momentarily picks up.

"It is important to note that we have induced an artificial state of mind, similar to what you would describe as a lucid dream, for you to focus on what is important instead of falling to your emotions. This state of mind will last for the first forty-eight hours, and it is advised that you attempt to come to terms with your situation before the time runs out as chances of survival dramatically decrease for those encumbered with negative mental states," continues the voice, oblivious to the profanities I am mentally projecting at her for speaking so loud.

Purposefully ignoring the continued hints that I was in danger, for why else would I need to care about survival chances, I feel a warm, tingling sensation sweep across my face. I quickly opened my eyes, mentally berating myself for not preparing myself for the blinding light, and blink away the daze before focusing on my surroundings.

-"Umm, Definitely not in Kansas anymore... I think."

I am in, what I can best describe as an upright, metallic cylinder, tubes run down from what I assume to be the ceiling with a light green, bubbling liquid slowly pumping through them.

-"And the mad scientist award goes to..." I had momentarily forgotten that the voice hadn't given me her name, though I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Something about curiosity killing the cat and all that.

My eyes follow the direction that I think the liquid is flowing in as they disappear downwards, but without the ability to move my neck, I can't see where they end. A sneaking suspicion tells me that I don't want to know either.

A screen flickers to life in front of me, drawing my attention with its simplistic display.

The outline of what I think is a planet, two smaller circles above it, one red and the other giving a similar planetary vibe, off to its left appears.

The voice emanates around me, though I can see no speakers. "The large planet is called Evo; this will be your new home. The planet has four major zones the..."

The voice fades into the background as I try, and fail, to let out a sigh. The realisation that I can't actually move, that I am being restrained, hits me hard.

A heavy sensation forms in the pit of my stomach before slowly creeping upwards and I feel like the cramped metal coffin I am currently in, is getting smaller. Immediately noticing the the telltale signs of my wannabe claustrophobia emerging through the depths of my artificial calmness, I feel a cold shiver running down my spine.

I call it wannabe claustrophobia because I don't think it really fits in with what most people think or feel, but it similar enough that it's a handy label. The feeling of being trapped when I can't move freely, the skin too close to my body, people in my personal space or staying in one place for too long are my most prominent triggers.

Ok, the last one may not be linked to claustrophobia, but they all result in the same response. Overwhelming aggression that would put the Hulk to shame. Not in terms of strength, he wins that one, but on the I will burn, maim and destroy anything that stands in my way at the drop of a hat.

The problem was, even if I felt the beast growing inside of me, testing the walls of its imaginary cage, demanding that I start flailing around and destroy my own, there was nothing I could do, I was paralysed.

The feeling of powerlessness continued to grow, and I felt the urge to growl, and it wasn't the human, I'm pissed off kind. More the rapid dog that's about to attack everyone in sight before tearing its own throat out.

A jolt of pain flowed down my spine as my body reflexively shudders and the voice, now with an irritated tone, rises to get my attention. "Our readings indicate you are not listening. This is highly inadvisable as it will reduce your survival chances. As this seems to be due to psychological stress, we will remove your limited to speak. State your issue so we may continue."

"I need to move my fingers." I almost shout out the moment I can feel my lips move. I start with the smallest request, knowing that screaming for them to let me out, or that I will rip their still beating hearts from their chests, would not end well. The beast inside was polite when it needed to be aka when it was muzzled.

"No." The voice almost instantly replied.

I felt my heart beat increasing. It seemed that although they could stop me from moving and somewhat control my emotions, whoever had kidnapped me couldn't control my subconscious impulses.

"I need to. Please," I begged, the roaring anger inside of me making me feel dirty for having to stoop so low but as I said before, I would do anything.

The voice paused for a moment before responding. "Why?"

"Coping mechanism," I splutter. "You won't let me out of this metal box, or let me move too much, so I need to...," I paused, knowing how idiotic this would sound. "I need to push the skin away from my nails to calm myself. It... it keeps me calm."

"Please wait," responded the voice.

The seconds turn to minutes, or at least that's the way it feels inside my prison, the barely restrained panic and resulting anger enabling me to ignore probably the most important questions. How the hell did I get myself into this mess?"

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The voice roused me from my inner thoughts. "You request has been accepted as we have detected over twelve mental abnormalities and have decided this would be the most efficient way of achieving initial objectives. Please be warned, if you try to abuse your new found freedom, your orientation will be cancelled. You will have no future warnings."

I felt my teeth grinding, but I did not respond. -"Oh no, please oh mighty voice, don't cancel telling me information that obviously benefits you in some way. What would I do..."

Yeah, I forgot to mention that being told what to do and restricting me is yet another one of my triggers. It seemed this disembodied voice or a bitch was going for a high score.

The good news was before I can wind myself up anymore, I feel my fingers come to life and instantly relax as I push my fingers together, gently pushing the skin away from those damn nails. I was nowhere near to being calm, but thankfully having the freedom of my fingers and what ever mental tampering that had been done to me, it was barely enough to keep my cool.

"Continuing." Said the voice once I took a deep, relaxing breath. "You have been enhanced with an agent that will rapidly increase the rate of... Evolution. This word is not adequate as there is no similar concept of it in your world that you have come across."

Well, that confirmed it. Aliens had abducted me, or I had finally gone over to the dark side of insanity. Not sure which one is worse but I'd hedge my bets with the one that ended up with me in a metal box of warped emotions.

"This type of evolution is not generational based but adaptive. It is affected by your emotions, thoughts, environment as well as needs. The stronger these conditions, the faster your body will change and adapt. This is to say, that your mind will affect your adaptations as much as your environmental needs."

My mind was struggling to follow. Ignoring all of the standard fluff of evolution, it sounded like if I wanted something enough, my body would attempt to get it and if my body needed something badly enough, it would change my mind.

The weight in my chest increased at the thought of something once again out of my control. -"What do they want from me?"

Even though I thought the whole thing was ludicrous, on a deep level, I believed, without a doubt, every single word the voice spoke. -"I wonder if they are doing more than just regulating my emotions."

"It is advised that you are careful with your actions, thoughts and emotions as well as what situations you place yourself in as this adaptive evolution has similar boons and pitfuls to its generational counterpart."

"For the first one hundred and sixty-eight hours, the agent will be most effective, enabling you to evolve quickly and give you the best chances of success. This agent will continue to function until you die or are consumed by another."

So basically you, or more likely someone else could royally screw you over if they wanted to. They could force you to change into something and then if it didn't suit them, eat you.

Ok, that might not be the first thought in their heads, but I was slightly more paranoid than your average bear.

"Success? Why do I need to evolve? What have you pumped into me? Will I still be human? Why are you doing this? Who will be consuming? Are there other species? Is there a way to return home?" The barrage of questions left my mouth. I needed answers more so to keep the constant panic in check than anything else. Even with the ability to move my fingers and perform the ridiculous ritual that calmed me down, I was wound as tightly as a jack in the box.

"All questions deemed irrelevant for your survival. We will now continue with the none critical orientation. It is ad-"

"You keep saying I need to survive? Is this a test or some sick alien reality tv show?" I was sick of not getting any real answers. So far, everything could be summed up as 'You're a freak we have abducted that is being used for our purposes and will likely die on this planet while being pumped full of glowing green shit. Try and make it interesting for us.'

"Yes. You need to survive. It is the foundation on which most species are built upon." The voice paused as if considering something.

"That and to procreate, however, we find that any situations that arise in the first four thousand, three hundred and eighty hours are unlikely to survive as the parents have not secured enough of a foundation for the increased burden. The only exceptions are those that have been adopted into other species societies. However, it is extremely rare for fertilisation to take place between species as the variance is significant."

I noticed the voice ignored my second question, even if it was a bit flippant, and seemed to be giving me near useless information in order to distract me.

"Many races show remarkable genetic similarities to humans, at least enough to make cross fertilisation possible for the females of the species. Some of them surprisingly have a reference in the culture of your world. It was investigated, but it appears that no cross contamination has previously occurred but the similarities are surprising consistency, so we are still investigating."

The voice again paused, as if waiting to see if I would interrupt, which I didn't. I doubt any male would be thinking with their lower brain at the moment, but then again, I had been sorely disappointed by the ones I had met. Stupid is as stupid does comes to mind.

"I will now carry on with the Orientation."

"Do I need to know the rest? You said that you had finished all the critical stuff." I interrupted. Yes, typically knowing how many hours in a day, if they were the same as the hours I used, what was edible and whatever other garbage the voice would spew might be useful but I needed out of this box before I do something stupid. Like, accept any of the bullshit an unknown voice is telling me while I am being pumped full of luminous green drugs in a metal box.

Might be drugged, potentially fallen off the sanity band wagon and have anger management issues, but I am not stupid. I hope.

I hope.

"No, but statistics indicate that it will help your survival rating if you continue to listen," replied the voice in a tone that immediately got my back up. Well, it would of if I could move.

"Then let's get going. I want out."

"Are you sure you wish to start early? You will land away from the rest of your race. Statistics indicate for social creatures such as your self; you should group up for the initial stages. The starting zone is relatively low risk, but that is only for the first few months."

Social creatures huh. I had never really been social. Don't get me wrong, I got incredibly lonely and craved human attention and, more often than not, affection but the moment I got it or was even close to the situation, I knew it wasn't for me. Having to interact with others drained me to the point I would sometimes hide for days just to retain my sanity.

"If it gets me out of here faster, let's skip it." I knew I was stupid. The first rule of survival, excluding always be ready and, if you have to get into a fight, make sure the other guy doesn't stand back up, was to get as much information as possible but I just couldn't bring myself to believe the implications of what I was being told.

Hopefully, I would just wake up in my bed when this was over.

"Affirmative. You will be deployed four hours and thirty-seven minutes before the rest of your species. The travelling distance should be around thirty miles. Even with you starting in a relatively safe zone though it is strongly advised to meet with yo-"

"I said let's go. Before I change my mind and ask for a lawyer." It was a terrible joke, but I needed it. Witty I was not, but I could amuse myself, and that was something especially as my fingers attempted to draw blood from my palms.

"Affirmative." The feminine voice echoed, a hint of disappointment.

"It's OK dear; It's me, not yo~" My words are cut off as an excruciating pain wracks my body as it jerks about, smacking into the cold metal on all sides. The green liquid flowing at a much faster speed, quickly followed by blue.

"Integration sequence has been sped up at the request of the subject. Possibility for complications and unseen mutations increased. Your viability ranking has been decreased while potential has increased."

"My wha-"

"Farewell Human. Survive long enough, and we may meet face to face," interrupted the voice in a mocking tone.

"Fuck off. If I wanted to date a voice, it would be Morgan Freeman's." Yeah, it was childish, but it made me feel better.

I lost control of my speech. I guess that even that AI or whatever that voice came from doesn't like to be insulted or rejected. Whatever, I was getting out of this box.

Or not.

The screen flickered and vanished. Apparently, it was mainly for the next bit of the talk, and the metal shell that was my prison slowly became transparent.

My mind grinds to a halt. Maybe they stopped my ability to speak, or more likely scream, as they didn't want to hear Earth's vast arrange of swear words as I figuratively shit myself. I can't even feel my body to know what it's doing, but I can't smell anything so. Hopefully, I am not standing in my own filth.

The world that had appeared on the screen was far below me with the edges of, what I assumed to be space was in my peripheral.

I absentmindedly noticed the red moon to the right and the unfamiliar landmasses and varying terrain on the world below, too structured to be anything natural, but honestly, it wasn't something I was willing to focus on at the moment.

I move my eyes, still unable to even twitch my head and notice the hundreds, if not thousands of metal... pods surrounding mine, thick tubes of green liquid flowing into them.

Looking back down. I now understand what the voice meant by land and a small part of me, really, really small, screams in the back of my mind as it runs in circles of excitement at potentially doing a space marine style orbital drop.

The other part of me, the inner adult that likes to live is currently chasing it trying to stab the little fucker with an ice pick before shoving him in the waste disposal with a plunger.

Clinking noises ring out around me as the blue liquids stop flowing, leaving see through tubes. I start thinking that my tiny little box isn't so bad.

I start thinking that my tiny little box isn't so bad as the realisation of what is going to happen cement in my gut.

Looking down again, I feel my stomach rise into my throat. -"Mind manipulation or not, this is going to be~."

I feel more than hear the feminine voice laughing at me as the pod lurches, stopping a few moments before finally falling away.

Mind and body scream in unison but no sound escapes my throat as I begin my plummet towards the alien planet, my mind so incoherent that I can't even begin to form even the most basic of profanities.

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