I opened my eyes and looked out, the world skewed, left tilted on its axis.

“****? ****!” A voice called out my name from beside me.

“Why are we sideways?” I asked, the crooked ceiling putting me off.

My sister tilted my head towards her.

“It is so hard to hold a conversation with you.” The girl said.

I tried to peer past the misty vale hiding her face, but as always, it was impregnable.

I let out a low sigh.

“I was trying to say that you have a visitor.” My sister said, motioning over to the doorway.

My sister placed her hand on my head and rolled it to look towards the entrance. At the odd action did I only now notice my circumstances.

A hospital room surrounded me, my person laying on a bed, wires connecting themselves to my arm. I tried to pull away the cumbersome wires but was left unable as my body refused my commands.

Paralyzed.

“Hello Mr.****, my name is Gill Hartoff. I was hoping to talk to you about a project I’ve been working on.” A man stated as he stood in the doorway. The only recognizable aspect of him being his red hair.

“I’m not donating my body; I don’t care how many babies it will save.” I replied coldly, having heard this spiel a dozen times already.

The man shook his head, “No sir, you misunderstand. I am here to offer you a chance to walk again.”

It wasn’t the first time I had heard these offers either, most of which ending with an unpayable fee.

“Don’t waste your time, whatever your cost, I can’t pay it. My insurance won’t cover ‘non-essential’ procedures.” I said dismissively, snorting at the irony.

The man ignored my denial and pulled a chair up near me and took a seat. I rolled my eyes as he pulled out a small packet of paper from within his coat.

“That is why we decided to offer you this deal,” The man said, “Not only will we let you move again, but we will do it for free.”

Nothing was ever free in life.

“What’s the catch Gill.” I said, tired of the conversation and false hope.

“You will be the first to use the procedure, we can't guarantee success.” The man said, cutting straight to the point.

Not the worst reason I had heard.

“What happens if the treatment fails?” I asked, prodding a bit more at the man’s answer.

“You die.” He stated firmly, his tone serious.

“Then why the hell would I take the chance?” I asked, flicking my eyes, my question having been laden with sarcasm.

“You are going to die anyways.” The man said, pulling a file out from his packet.

He held the file in front of me, it was my doctor’s notes.

“Why do you have this?!” I asked, outraged.

“Just read it.” Gill replied.

I looked back at the page, it took a moment, but after a moment I saw what he wanted me to read.

‘A large tumor has been located at the base of the neck. Expected time until death: three months.’

Written below that was a penned in note.

‘No fixing it, let him die in peace.’

“How do I know this is real?” I demanded, angry.

“It’s true.” I heard my sister mutter from behind me.

“What?” I asked in confusion, shocked my sister hadn’t told me.

“We decided not to tell you, I didn’t want you to spend the last time we had together worried about your looming death.” She added.

“You didn’t have the right!” I shouted at her.

“Well I did it anyways!” She responded, “I know I messed up, watching you slowly fade away has shown me that...”

I could hear as her voice started to strain, a sniffle telling me of her tears.

“Just listen to the man... please. I’m trying to fix this.” she muttered out.

I sighed, no helping it now.

“What do you want from me?” I asked Gill, the man sitting quietly during our sibling shouting match.

Mr. Hartoff reached into the packet and pulled out a single sheet of paper, a contract, the words of which swirled on the page.

“Just your signature.” He said with a faint smile.

I looked at the man then at my unmoving arms.

He understood my point and retrieved a pen from his jacket pocket, placing the utensil against my lips.

I rolled my eyes and bit down on it, making a single mark across the page’s dotted line.

“Wonderful!” The man rang out, placing the contract back into his folder with a snap.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Someone will come to take you to our facility soon, until then, I wish you well.”

The man immediately turned on his heel and left the room. The moment he left the light in the room dimmed to flicker, then to darkness.

“Good luck.” My sister said from somewhere around me.

A cold metal placed itself against my skull.

“Preparing transfer.” An electronic voice echoed.

A needle pierced into my skull, and everything went dark.

----------------------------------------

Paris brushed the broken bits of glass out of her arm. Small trails of blood dribbling down them onto the ground.

Looking around, Paris thought the inside of the car looked funny, everything tilted to one side. She noticed her pistol resting against the ceiling.

You aren’t supposed to be there, she thought.

The world swirled in Paris’s mind, dizziness and nausea overtaking her as her view was set right.

Paris hung upside down, her seat belt holding her in place. With a small effort, the girl reached around and clicked the seat’s button, releasing the belt.

Paris fell from her seat and slammed into the truck’s roof, a grunt of pain escaping her lips.

The little girl saw her pistol in front of her and picked it up, surveying her surroundings as she did so. She wasn’t exactly sure where she was.

The Trucks doors were all open, the vehicle empty except for her.

“Paris! We have to go!” Noah called out to her, peaking in suddenly from an open door.

The girl flinched and raised her gun instinctively, before recognizing the boy and relaxing.

“What happened? Where is everyone?” The girl asked.

The boy’s gaze lingered on the gun for a moment then snapped back to look at Paris.

Noah shook his head, “No time, I got everyone out, but we have to leave now. I won’t be able to move soon.”

Inspecting the boy Paris noticed his pale face and sunken eyes, his shallow cheeks and ragged breath.

The boy truly was on his last legs.

Paris nodded quickly and crawled out of the upside-down vehicle.

The world outside offered up a sea of flames and chaos.

Bodies littered the streets along with large chunks of rubble and glass. Behind her, a skyscraper flamed and cracked the towering structure threatening to collapse as its metal beams groaned under the strain.

Noah moved past her, walking to a sidewalk across the way, a pile of children sitting close together, nursing their wounds.

Cee was not with them.

“Noah, where is Cee?” Paris called out.

“Who’s that?” The boy replied, distractedly tending to a wound on Zia’s shoulder.

“The robot guy! He saved you!” The little girl shouted incredulously.

Without looking up, Noah just raised his finger and pointed towards the burning building.

A murder taking place under the structure’s flames.

Paris gasped in horror as she saw the robotic body of Cee twitching on the ground, the massive metal form of the behemoth standing over top of him.

Paris moved without thinking, she wouldn’t freeze like in the motor pool.

The girl raced forwards unable to stop the beast as it slammed its fist down on top of her friend, the machine sending out sparks as a loud crunch rang out.

Paris came to a sudden stop and raised her gun. Tugging at the trigger, she fired at the steel villain.

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Paris shouted; her voice full of rage.

The bullets pinged off the creature’s side, the beast turning its head to look down at her.

The behemoth took a step towards the girl, “WroNG mOVE LitTLE BUG!”

Paris was forced to cover her ears as the machine spoke, the horrific force of its voice threatening to blow out her ears.

The earth shook as the monster paced towards the girl, coming to a stop directly overtop the girl.

Looking upwards Paris gazed straight into the behemoth’s mechanical eyes, the cold blue eyes flickering in the firelight.

The monster raised its fist above its head, Paris watched the arm rise into the sky, a dark shadow rapidly approaching behind it.

With the force of a meteor, a large metal beam slammed down onto the creature, knocking it to the ground. The behemoth landing to be positioned directly over the little girl.

A rain of fire and glass tumbled down around her, smoke filling her lungs and burning her eyes.

Paris scrambled to her feet and raced out from under the behemoth, following the movement of the smoke.

The little girl recoiled and cried out as a burst of flame appeared before her, blocking her path.

Paris peered beyond the flames. She saw as light filtered into the smoke, an open area beyond the blaze.

Paris approached the raging flames, the intense heat pushing her backwards.

She was trapped.

Paris was going to burn to death.

The little girl stood amidst the flames, whipping her head back and forth, looking for a chance to escape.

She didn’t want to die.

Fire burst to life besides her, forcing the girl to recoil as it brushed against her.

She had just gotten back Tom.

Glass cracked and popped beneath her feet, her tears evaporating as they landed upon them.

It isn’t fair.

Smoke built around her, the flames of the building growing in intensity.

A scream boomed out from behind Paris, the burning monster yelling out in agony.

The girl covered her ears as the screams rang out over and over again, each time causing the ground to shake and the flames to flicker.

Paris watched as with each cry came the shifting of the flames, a path briefly opening outwards.

The little girl steeled herself and wiped away tears that clouded her vision.

Placing her feet in a runner's stance, the little girl dove towards the flames and prayed.

Flames licked against her face for a split second before being forced away, the little girl bursting forth from the ruined building and into the open.

Paris gasped and coughed as fresh air filled her lungs. She shuddered as her body was wracked with pain, stumbling to her knees.

She felt an arm wrap itself under her own, hoisting her to her feet.

“What’s wrong with you Paris! We gotta go!” Tom asked her, his eyes partially glazed over.

“Tom?” the girl asked, her vision blurry and dark.

“Of course.” The boy said, quickening his pace.

Paris felt as the boy took the gun out of her hand, holding it in his own.

“Don’t lose that,” The girl said in a daze, “Cee gave it to me...”

She dozed off.

“Get out of the car now!” Tom shouted suddenly, pointing Paris’s gun at a fat man.

The girl was startled awake.

Paris saw as the man removed himself from the driver's seat, being replaced with a small boy.

“I wanna drive...” Paris muttered.

She was hoisted into the back seat by Tom and Noah, the boys leaving her in the care of Leo and Zia.

“Not fair...” the girl said before collapsing into darkness.

----------------------------------------

“The other pedal!” Ant shouted down to Tom.

Just like Paris, Ant couldn’t reach the pedals, so he had Tom do it, except Tom didn’t know what pedal did what.

It was ticking him off.

Sweat poured from Ant’s face as he tried to steer the car down the street. He knew most traffic laws thanks to his dad.... but following them, that was a lot harder.

The mean lady on the radio yelling at him didn’t make the task any easier on him either.

“I said right you little bastard! Right!” The crazed woman shouted at the boy.

Ant whipped the car into a U-turn, earning himself a barrage of expletives from the angry woman.

She claimed to be named Kassidy, a friend of Paris. The only confirmation of which was a slight head nod from a half dead Paris. Apparently, the woman was trying to guide the group to a warehouse to hide in.

It wasn’t working.

“Just follow my directions god dammit!” The radio cried.

Ant turned down the right lane that he had missed, careful not to hit any other vehicles.

“Stop yelling at me! I'm trying!” The little boy shouted back at the woman, his frustration building at the mysterious radio voice.

“TURN DOWN THAT TUNNEL! NOW!” The woman rapidly shot out in a panic.

Ant whipped the wheel to make the turn. The truck’s paint job scratching against the tunnel’s wall. A grumble of discontent coming from the injured sitting in the back. Tom also received a sharp kick from Ant by accident as the boy tried to stabilize himself.

The muttered words from Tom told of his displeasure.

“You need to tell me to turn, BEFORE THE TURN!” Ant shouted.

The little boy was absolutely fuming.

“Ooo! Ooo! This is it TURN TURN!” The woman exclaimed with a crackle of the radio.

Ant whipped at the wheel again, turning down the only open lane, hoping he chose the right one.

“WHAT DID I JUST SAY!” Ant shouted into the radio as he slowed down.

“Shut up brat...” the device muttered back, ignoring him.

“You shut up...” Ant muttered, insulting the woman as he tried to focus.

“Pull into that big garage.” the speakers rumbled quietly.

Ant turned to look at the entrance, a dirty and dark room hiding within it.

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure!”