Number 88
Number 88
Alexis Storm Parrick
Number 88
Copyright © 2010 by Alexis Storm Parrick
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve………………………………..................
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter One
“Oh GOD!!”
A young man lay motionless in the snow. His gray eyes reflected in the night as his red hair glowed. The white of the snow was diluted by his blood, staining it a fade of pink. His breath was visibly shallow, as the ice crystals formed around him. The lone street light, elaborated the beautiful horror.
“I….I think I’m dying.”
He tried to focus with his eyes, they only thing still moving. His breathing quickened in fear of what was to come. He tried to force his eyes to stay open, but the darkness started to form. Motionless as he was, his gaze stared out in the black emptiness of the sky. The darkness he was experiencing was nothing compared to it. It slowly took over his eye sight, he could feel his heart pounding harder. It was pumping blood he knew would never run through his body again. A small smile formed on his lips, the blood just beginning to dry around them.
“I guess this is it?”
His vision gave out on him, nothing but darkness remained. His body started to go numb. The pain he once felt was gone, replaced with the comfort of deaths arms. His face relaxed, but his eyes still gazed up at the sky that he could no longer see.
“I…I don’t want to die.”
His last breath left him, just another ghost of a final memory. The falling white did not let up, but the blood still shown through the newly formed snow. The man’s gray eyes still open, starring forever into the darkness.
Error 01
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“Thump, thump,…thump, thump”
“A heartbeat?”
“Thump, thump,…thump, thump.”
“But who’s?”
******************************************************
A man looked down from the building he was standing on. The dark night hid his features. His eyes darted back and forth, as if looking for something. In the dark, a person was running. Locked on to his target he spoke.
“Target required. What is your order?” He spoke so stoically, no emotion lingered in that voice.
A small beep was heard near his ear. The voice was automated and barely understandable. What ever words were spoken, the man knew exactly what to do.
“Understood. Commencing program.”
Before his target could get away in running distance, the man just jumped off the building.
The man fell with the gravity of speed, one no one would survive from. The windows reflected his down fall with a silent grace, as the ground kept speeding forward. His eyes still locked onto the target, whom still not knowing what fate lay ahead just beyond the corner.
The man finally hit the ground. Dust formed around him, as the impact made a crater near his feet. The pavement cracked with such force, that it screamed. The target stopped only meters away, shielding its body from the rocks and dust.
When the area began to clear, the target looked around. There, the man on the building stood. No sign of damage from the fall, just dust particles resting on his shoulder.
The said target, fell backwards to the ground, staring in disbelief.
“No…no way…” The target stuttered, his green eyes wavered.
The man spoke again, voice in the same stoic manner.
“Target is acquired. Permission to follow last orders.”
The beep sounded again. The same voice followed, giving orders.
“Affirmative.”
The targets eyes widened. “No!! Don‘t listen!!” He reached out to the man before him.
The man slung out a blade from his right arm. Moving his arm he slung it left, the blade grew longer, reaching the targets neck.
Blood flew everywhere, as the man swung the blade back in to his arm. The targets body slumped to the ground, and a few minutes later a dull thump was heard. The man looked down at the target. His decapitated body twitched.
“Target, Eliminated.”
Another ping chimed in his ear. The voice once again spoke, acknowledging his achievement. Giving the man a last order.
“Understood. Returning to headquarters.”
The man started walking. He walked over the body as if it were just some object to be thrown away. His shoes walked over the sticky red substance with quite easy. Bloody foot prints trailed behind him. The man stopped at a street light. Looking up into it. His features visibly seen. His red hair glowed in the light, as his gray eyes fixated on something that was never really there. Specks of wet blood, painted his face. He stood there, silently. He was seemingly talking to something else, then the dead body below. It didn’t take long for the man to vanish in a blinding speed. Dust and leaves was the only thing disturbed.
******************************************************
“Thump, thump,…thump, thump”
“A heartbeat?”
“Thump, thump,…thump, thump.”
“But who’s?”
******************************************************
“Is it mine?”
******************************************************
Chapter Two
“Father?”
A tall man looked down at his son.
“What is it?”
The boy looked over at a the casket in front if him.
“Is sister in that?” He asked. Pointing towards the elegant floral painted death bed.
The man rested a hand on his sons red head. He didn’t say anything, just a small smile.
The boy was confused. Why was his sister in the box. People told him she was in there, but he wanted to know why they couldn’t see her. Why she wasn’t there with them.
The boy looked around. These people he did not know, but the words that came out of their mouth.
“What a horrible thing.”
“I heard they beat her face in.”
“What do you expect, from a man who let his daughter run around like that.”
Gossip. Something that made the boys blood boil and he didn’t even know what was going on. His anger subsided when he felt his father grab his hand. A small warmth was all he needed to know, that his sister was never coming back. A father and son bond, where silence meant more then words did. A slight squeeze of a hand was all that was needed, a sign that it was alright to cry and he did.
Error 02
******************************************************
“An shearing stab, but no blood. What is this?”
“Who are you?”
“My sharp breath. Yet I can not move.”
“Do you know me?”
******************************************************
The sound of machinery echoed throughout the building. A slight humming noise, coming from a closed door, held a light tune. The creaking sound as it opened, stopped the person in mid-hum. It was a sandy blond haired woman, in her early 30’s. She gave a frustrated sigh as she adjusted her glasses with her free hand.
“This door always needs
fixing.”
A small laugh turned her frustration else where.
“You know Clare, doors don’t talk back.”
Clare frowned adjusting her white lab coat.
“What are you doing here? I thought you had the day off.”
The man yawned as he scratched his day old beard. His brown messy hair was a tell-tell sign he had just gotten up.
“It was, but I got a call.”
Clare snide. “Really, what about then?”
The man frowned. “It has to do with the new modules we have out.”
Clare sighed. “You mean the 80 class.” She leaned her body on the side of the wall.
The man nodded. He walked over to Clare, resting on the same wall.
“Its only the assassination model this time around. The arm blade is stuck.” The man pondered a bit. “Must be because of all the blood that builds up every once in awhile.”
He said it so nonchalantly, that Clare found amusement in it.
Clare laughed. “You’re a sick one Will.”
Will smiled. “But I’m not the one laughing, now am I, Clare.”
Clare ceased her laughing abruptly. She looked away from Will.
“Is is all right?”
Will frowned at that question. “No, its not alright. We have no choice in the matter anyways.”
Will had had enough, he had to go work on his new toy anyways. He went up and started to leave. Clare stood there waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure. Will stopped but didn’t look back at her.
“Clare, listen to me.”
Clare did. She didn’t want to miss anything.
“If you even think about running, the organization will send an assassination model after you. All you have to do is grit and bare it.”
Clare clenched her fist. “Is, is that why they killed..!?”
Will punched the wall to stop her from speaking. “Don’t mention that name, let alone what happened, got it. Just do as I say and I promise…”
Will looked over at Clare and smiled. “Just do as I say, Ok Clare.”
Clare nodded. Will turned away again and walked through the double doors.
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Will yawned again. His lab coat was crinkled, but he didn’t care for the matter. He just grabbed a pack of cleaning tools and headed for another room. In the new room the walls lined up with numbers that where in 80-89. Will looked over at a sheet of paper and sighed. The maintenances was on a 80 model. He grumbled while he walked down the room.
“Why couldn’t be 11 or 66, 44 even, but why 88.”
Will moodily brooded at a door with the numbers “88” plastered on it. He stood there for awhile, trying to figure out how to work with this one. Before he could even punch in the numbers, a small beep was heard. Will cringed out of irritation.
He let his hand drop from the numbering system and turned around.
There before him, was a little boy. A smile plastered on his face as bright as day.
Will looked down. “What are you doing here 23?”
23 smiled and grabbed the mans hand. “88 isn’t in there today. He’s already in the processing room.”
Will laughed. “Great, so your just sending me right to the beast.”
23 smiled, all hyped up without a care. “I do no know what you mean.”
Will rolled his eyes. He still hadn’t figured out why they gave 23 a child’s persona, possibly bring a life in a thing not even living?
23 pushed open the door with ease, as he let go of Will’s hand. The boy ran over to another man.
“88, come look, come look.” 23’s attempts was useless, the redheaded man never responded.
23 crossed his arms and frowned. He started stomping his foot.
“The only time you speak is when your on a mission.”
Will sighed. 23 was already getting on his nerves, not to mention he had to work on the newest model available.
“23, he works on command from the headquarters system. There should be no reason for him to talk to you.”
Will started pulling out some cleaning tools.
88 just stared off in the distance. As 23 started bouncing off the walls.
“NOOOOTTT true.” He whined. “88 does take orders from me.”
Will really would have wanted to kill the person responsible for making 23.
“Yeah, but you also get your information from headquarters too.”
23 stomped off, being bratty as usual. “Your no fun.” Slamming the door in the process.
Will secretly prayed if he had any children, they would not act like that. Then Will caught himself. 23 wasn’t actually a boy, let alone a human.
He was getting a migraine, but at least one problem was gone. Will turned his attention back to 88. He walked over to him.
“Number 88. Manual work number 108801. ID: William Henslin. Entry number 134.”
88’s gray eyes flashed, as his right arm extended. Will grabbed it carefully, as he turned the arm wrist side up. A tattoo of the number “88” was visibly seen.
“I was told you had a dysfunction in your arm blade. Is that correct?”
88 responded coldly. Chills went up Will’s spine. “That is correct.”
Will hit a small button, masked as a freckle, that split the wrist open. There, neatly inside, laid a bloodied blade. Will pulled the blade out by hand and opened in. He could see why the arm blade didn’t work, it was never bothered to be cleaned with. Even if the 80 models were new, maintenance was not well up there for standards as other models. Will cleaned the blade and retracted it back into 88’s arm.
He sighed frustrated that he knew he would have to clean it again.
“Why can they make the models maintain themselves?”
The split closed up and 88 rested his arm down next to his side.
“Order is clear and understandable. 88 will maintain program systems.”
Will went white as a ghost. He had no idea that the 80 system was workable by command, not only that but it was a simple suggestion to himself.
Will smiled. At least this was one job he didn’t have to clean again.
“Number 88. Manual work number 108801. ID: William Henslin. Exit number 431.”
Will yawned again, looking forward to pack up and go home. Then he heard a ping. He sighed again and turned around.
“Hello 23.”
23 smiled. “Is 88 ready?”
“Yes, he is ready.” 23 grabbed Wills hand again, something Will was getting rather use to and walked back over to 88. 23 extended his hand to 88. 88 didn’t even bother trying, all he did was start walking. 23 frowned and started pouting, squeezing Wills hand a little to tight.
“Owwiee.” Will complained. “Why’d I punch that wall.”
23 looked up, blinking. “Owwiee?”
Will smiled. “Its nothing for you to worry about 23. Lets get 88 back. Then I’ll put you ok.”
23 was thrilled. “Really.”
23 started swinging his hand back and forth, Will’s followed the same motion forcefully.
88 trailed ahead, glancing back momentarily at the two behind him. His red hair, hid his gray eyes. It reminded him of something. Of a man and a boy long ago. Something pulled him in that direction, but 88 kept walking. His gray eyes fixated on something that was never even there.
******************************************************
“An shearing stab, but no blood. What is this?”
“Who are you?”
“My sharp breath. Yet I can not move.”
“Do you know me?”
******************************************************
“Am I you?”
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Chapter Three
Laughter erupted throughout the house as two siblings started to run around, lost in the emotion of fun. The boy ran after his much older sibling. He grabbed on to her dress, yelling happily.
The girl smiled brightly as her red curly hair bounced with her every move.
“You little monster, come here! I’ll get you soon enough.” She chided playfully.
She was ready to go after him when the door bell rang, stopping her movement abruptly. Her smile faltered into a frown, but switched back to a smile.
“Saved by the bell.” She glanced over at her little brother, who was knowingly hiding behind the curtains. His feet were a dead giveaway.
The girl walked over to the door and opened it slowly and pecked through the crack. There stood a man in dark colored clothing. She took a deep breath out of relief and opened the door a little wider.
“Hello, Dr. Ackell. Its good to see you again.” She smiled up at him.
“Its good to see you too Sarah. Is your father in at the moment?”
“He’ll be back soon.”
She let him in, as he rested a hand on her head. Sarah got a little angered and embraced at the same time.
“I’m not a little child anymore.”
Dr. Ackell laughed. “Sorry, old habits die hard.” He looked around, spotting two shoes behind the curtain.
“My, where is you little brother.”
The little boy busted though the curtains, running to his sister.
He got in front of her, in a protective stance. Dr. Ackell gave another laugh. Sarah was less then bemused with her younger brothers antics.
“Don’t you remember Dr. Ackell?”
Sarah’s brother frowned even more, just glaring up at the other man. He turned his head to look back at his sister. Then the little redheaded boy stomped off into his room.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think he remembers you.”
Dr. Ackell nodded. “Its understandable, it has been awhile. But I think he’s just jealous.”
Sarah looked at him. “Jealous?”