A La Carte Fiction - The IncidentSubmitted by ilikesteak at 2013-05-14 13:42:09 EDT
Rating: 1.5 on 8 ratings (13 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
It was a battery factory in the sixties, but soon after the Japanese invasion hit it was closed. It was pretty run down when it was bought and re-purposed as a meat packing plant. After that failed it was abandoned completely when a prospective buyer found out that it would cost less to tear it down and build a new building in its place than to renovate and get it back into working order. An old axe buried in a stump and a few cows that still wander around as free range animals were all that remained outside.
It was broken into more than a few times over the years. Kids would break in and use what used to be the old break room to fuck on the couches. Everything in there was stained with bodily fluids, and condoms littered the floor. A few years back, somebody pried opened that refrigerator and it was just a wall of fungus.
The engineer's room was in a state of general disarray. It was where all the research and development for new products and production methods used to be done in the sixties, and was kept for roughly the same purpose throughout the history of the building. A giant old printer occupied the back right corner, and a broken coffee pot occupied the back left doubtlessly keeping the wheels of progress rolling in its time. The centerpiece of the room was a large desk. It became the center of our attention rather quickly.
The top left drawer had a broken pair of bifocals and an ancient porn mag with a centerfold of a clown girl wearing a crushed velvet corset, her right leg up on a similar desk, showing her period blood dripping down her left leg. They stopped printing shit like that in the early nineties after church groups organized and lobbied congress to take some kind of action. It turns out that one guy who had loose enough morals to photograph a disabled woman being penetrated against her will as an "art piece" didn't have the conviction to use an "adult model/actress" for the scene, and had just set up a camera on a tripod with a timer as he raped a woman who lived up the street from his parent's house. An angry, fat neighbor was the one who came forth to the police with the information. It became the poster for the intense moral restrictions on society that ruined the better part of the next two decades.
The top right drawer was just the remnants of progress interrupted. A slide rule, a shorted out soldering iron, and a few pointer lasers rested atop the discarded technical drawings. The DEA nearly ruined everything for us two years ago when they pulled out $11,000 in cash, a pound of cocaine and the bodies of two strippers from the city from the corner office next to this room. They must have searched the room for drugs, saw the broken monitor on the desk, and assumed that it was worthless. They didn't find the old computer with the tape drive still inside it. What they pulled were drops in the bucket compared to this.
We pulled out our monitor and plugged it into the ancient machine. We followed the instructions we found on some of the technical papers. The massive printer rumbled into life and brought a new kind of excitement to our little group. The glowing, purple gem inside was a mystery that was just visible under the lexan shield, but none of us were about to open that cover to find out more. At least not while it was still on.
The machine finally stopped, and nothing new showed up on the monitor. Somebody opened the protective screen and apparently a gas leaked out. I heard the hissing earlier than the rest of the group so I took and held a deep breath hoping that it might help. I felt a sudden wave of pressure starting at my feet and working its way up. Everything looked as though it were at the bottom of a lake, and moved in slow motion under the water. I watched the three others in my group "drown" in front of me. I watched in horror as manatees loaded what used to be my friends onto a small sailboat and took them away. I was loaded into a drag race car before I blacked out.
I regained consciousness a few minutes before I regained my sight. Men from one of the government's bio-terrorism units were there to question me, and were waiting with me until I regained full consciousness before they questioned me. When my vision returned I was shocked. My face was masked and metal bars were placed over my mouth to stop me from biting anyone. My neck was held in place by a locked collar. I was strapped into a wheelchair and couldn't feel my legs. The only thing clearly visible was a man from the government and a box of sutures and equipment on a metal table.
We thought we were making drugs, when what we really manufactured was a disease. Judging by the reactions from the man asking me questions, the words from my mouth did not match the words in my head, and my body was not entirely under my own control. They locked me in a sanitarium somewhere away from the rest of the world. The same man comes to visit me every few months for questioning and to check progress reports. That was before they moved me into a different room. The new room had me facing a white wall before the permanent darkness set in.
Whoa dude, that's nuts!.png