Balls Capone

There I was, standing in the living room of a house I lived in over twenty years ago, the place used to be a dump, but someone had fixed it up nice. The light streamed into the living room through the big windows now, and the place had a great positive feel to it. Where was I? Why am I back here? It seemed my old friend, Chris had regained the property after all these years and had moved his family in and fixed the place up. There was a great vibe yet everyone seemed sad and worn out. I learned quickly that this was not the normal modern world, it looked like it, the same kind of things and technology, but there was something very different.

In this world, we all lived in what was like a concentration camp, but it wasn’t just a few, it was the entire world. It seemed the reason I was there is we all had to move in to the same place because space was super limited, you see, in this world, if you ended up homeless, you were killed on the spot. We were all under the control of a group of super wealthy elites who had long ago moved far into the high mountains of the world where the temperatures were still tolerable, because down here the ever changing climate had made life in the regular world nearly unbearable. The seas had risen, taking under much of the coasts we now know and everything with it. The beach was located somewhere in mid Nevada now, so everything was much more crowded in the cities to the East.

We had power, water, computers, phones, internet, etc. All the usual luxuries of modern life, but we all had an app running on our phones that tracked everything, especially your work. See, everything was owned by these super rich and their sickening psychopathic children, who were raised from day one to be the developers of the programs and systems that would enslave the world to ensure their own survival. All those during work hours were tracked with a little app that showed a path, kind of like Candy Crush or one of those never ending path games, as you did your work days, your little avatar would smile and move one step on the never ending pathway, but if you slacked off at all, were not performing as they thought you should, or blew off work, your little guy would frown and move back a step, but time was always moving forward in the app, so you only had three spaces to move backwards and if you went one too many, you would enter the "Red Zone", and once an employee had entered the red zone, there was no going back.

Soon, they would come in a large van or truck, these were not humans but programmed automatons that looked fairly human. You had from the time you entered the red zone to the time they arrived to say your goodbyes, as you had been terminated, and therefore you were considered useless and to be executed.

There was nothing you could do, nowhere to run, no escape. They would find you. The means of death were particularly cruel, the trucks contained a device you would be strapped into that would then slam you down onto a board containing three large swords that would rip through your body, the three swords symbolized the three words the masters associated with us all with, SLD, or “Slovenly, Lazy, and Dangerous.” This was always done in public to always make an example of those who would dare slack off or dare to question. It had become known as being “put to the sword.”

It was a terrible way to die, once you were run through, you were lifted back off the swords and left to slowly bleed to death. Once you were finally dead, a garbage truck would come and pick up your body to be compacted in with the rest like garbage. It was a daily occurrence in this world and many had lost loved ones and dear friends to the sword, now you would think that they would eventually run out of people to use as slaves, but another one of the "perks" of this world was that every day, you had to go down to the local breeding facilities and the machines would randomly match people up, the deed was done, and children were produced by the thousands all the time. You never even got to see her face, it was all automated, P goes in V, P blows its L in V, and creates BABY. Anyone could be a relation, anyone could be family, only the computers knew who was who for real. So life was was a living nightmare and you could be killed anytime for basically anything in the worst kind of way, but at least you got laid everyday, and if you didn't, well, the sword would await you.

There once used to be men who had the horrible job of being the executioners, they were known as liquidators, but after a few incidents of refusal to kill their fellow men, all of the liquidators were put to the sword along with all the sanitation crew and replaced by these robots with no mercy, in fact they programmed to be Extra Cruel. I was walking to the store and some unfortunate soul up the street was being put to the sword. He cried in terror and begged for mercy.

“Please, it’s my daughters birthday, I promised her a present”, he said in tears as he was plunged upon the swords.

As they raised him back up to bleed out, the robots made jokes as he died in agony.

“At least you can give your daughter the greatest present there is, the knowledge to work hard and survive. And look, you can show her the cherry milkshake you got her”, as they took photos of the blood fountains shooting out of his chest.

“So wrong….”, I thought as I walked by.

“Hey, you!”, shouted a robotic voice, “you much watch!”, see, if an execution was taking place and you were nearby, it was the law that you had to stop what you were doing and watch, it was the only time you could stop working, but it was to watch someone die. So I had to stand there and watch the life drain from this man's eyes while the robots took pictures and laughed. I had become used to it now, as it happened everyday all the time.

The dead were used for chum, as the seas rose new life took hold in the oceans and much of the fish and whales had become huge. So the masses were fed by fishing out these massive creatures, lured in by the blood of their own people. It was terrifying. The world was only getting worse and there seemed to be little hope anything would ever get better. Most people just wished for the world to finally ignite into a giant fireball, most seemed to think it would be better than being put to the sword in public. There was graffiti all over the place that said "Pray for the Fire", and "Hail the Flames", along with other lovely sayings. But those who dared mark the walls were usually quickly caught and put to the sword.

There once had been a resistance movement, but it was quickly quashed and all members put to the sword. The technology being created could now identify and weed out any people even thinking of creating a resistance, they had become so good at monitoring and control that even the thoughts of that kind of thing would be noticed and you’d probably be put to the sword at the end of the work day.

So "life" went on, all of us cramming together into houses and apartments, trying to stay ahead of the Red Zone, and as I said before, if you got thrown out of your living quarters and became homeless, you were instantly put to the sword. So people would desperately fight for even the smallest of corners to curl up and sleep in.

Children had to go to school to learn a special trade, the masters demanded they be trained in the ways of energy production so they could continue their empire. They had discovered new and even more dangerous ways of extracting oils, fuels, and other compounds from even deeper inside the earth and the children were raised from day one to be either an oil worker or some kind of miner. That was more and more the job of nearly all children and if they failed in class, acted up, caused issues, etc, they were hauled out and put to the sword. Yes, even children were put to the sword. So many were lost. Heart broken mothers roamed the streets, their clothes black from the daily coal mining ritual, waiting for the day they can no longer be productive and ultimately be put to the sword. For some it came soon, others lived long long lives. But the old ones were not put to the sword in a brutal fashion like the rest of us. No one knew exactly where they went or what happened to them. One day, they just vanished and everyone knew they had been “retired.” But they weren’t put to the sword, at least not publicly anyway.

Drinking and drugs were also strictly prohibited and would get you instantly put to the sword, the apps monitored the blood at all times, so they knew instantly of any intoxicant and the death wagon would be at your door in minutes. So there was very little escape from the cruel reality of this world, but at least there was one comforting thing, you could still have pets, and people adored their puppies and kitties, as they were just about the only thing that wouldn’t get you put to the sword for having. But you had to be able to afford it on your meager wage, the masters hated animal abuse or suffering and if your pet was found to be starving or abused in any way, well, you can probably guess what immediately happened to you. The Sword.

There were giant malls with stores that had a lot of fancy things in them, things that only the masters had, things that could get you some control over your life, but the prices were so extremely high that would be nearly impossible to achieve as a normal slug in this world. It was basically all for show. Yet, there were some who managed to save up enough to buy some of these items. But as soon as they entered the stores with their money, they were seized by the robots and instantly put to the sword.

How dare you even think you could have anything the masters have? You slovenly buffoon! You are not worthy and even if you somehow had the money, you were put to the sword anyway, and the masters would take all of it for themselves. A bummer of a fate for sure, after a life of intense labor, scrimping and saving, being told you would make it, and that your place up in the mountains would be assured, only to end up being put to the sword while the masters and their children watched and laughed in pleasure at your anguish and agony.

Yes, the masters would sometimes come down among us, not often, but when they did they traveled by horse and carriage, like the rich folks of old times. They dressed in the same 16th century manner with the white face makeup, whigs, powder, and such. They would always be holding some kind of handkerchief over their noses as not to have to smell the stench of the people, and with all of those that were put to the sword on a daily basis, it smelled pretty bad all the time. Sometimes the masters enjoyed putting someone to the sword themselves, upon their own sword. It was a much more merciful killing than normal. To die on a masters sword was a great honor and there was much less suffering and sadness, some even took pride in their killings. There wasn't much else to be proud of in this world.

Would the world ever be free? What would become of us all? Would we all eventually be put to the sword? How would the masters survive then? Would the world eventually just incinerate us all? Who knows, I didn’t get to see that part, only that which currently was.

It sure makes one thankful for what we do have, because things could be much much worse. I was very happy to awaken to my normal life in this somewhat normal world and hugged my Kitty, thankful not to be being put to the sword today.