Post by Cj on Oct 31, 2004 18:53:35 GMT
This is one of my many flashback sequences involving my main character DS Agent 25.
She’s a tad aggressive and a fowl mouth my apologises and warning (but its mild enough).
Opinions and criticism welcome.
“You’ll have a new life, a new existence, a chance to start over. No more of this, shady record to impinge upon you.” Sueiva glance up into those cool dark cloud coloured eyes set into the sharp face. The man was made of clean cuts and straight edges the high cheek bones and curved jaw looking too perfect to be a blood, somebody had designed this, sculpted it like the master with their clay.
“You’ll be free.” He continued, his vice confident in himself.
The Sergeant had introduced himself as Soranu Loku with a tight handshake and an intense eye that slashed right through Sueiva slicing her up and examining every inch of her, pulling every meaning she radiated with her demeanour.
She felt his mind make calculations about her, answer questions in his head that he could never really know the true answer to unless she spoke to him, unless she gave him the real answer. Yet Sueiva witnessed him do what hundreds of others did as he made his assumptions about her.
Sueiva was sitting across a cold metal table from the Sergeant in the Saitha Juvenile Detention Centre, SJDC’s, interrogation room, playfully known as the Grey Breaker.
The walls were a solid murky grey and if you stared at them long enough you felt your mind absorbed into the colour succumbing to its hypnotic emptiness and in theory, then you’d talk. The Administrators would leave inmates in the Grey Breaker for hours without food, water or contact to get them ready for ‘talking’.
Sueiva hadn’t broken yet. She’d been in Saitha for five months. It kind of blew their methods out of the water.
Her right elbow was bolted tightly to the fixed metal chair so she couldn’t move, or more importantly ‘lash out’ as her therapist was always giving out to her for. She would only ever lash out with good reason.
So don’t give me a good f***ing reason.
There was a thick chain attached to the clasp on her arm that linked to the tight wide metal collar around her neck. Everything was an axanth alloy with Earth steel to make it extra strong and resistant to heat Mods. They didn’t have the expenses to personalise everybody’s locks so a set standard was made to suit all kinds of dangers. For Suieva it was over the top, unless she got her hands on dexel she’d be useless against anything tying her down.
This Loku guy was offering her a ‘new life’. She’d never smelt so much bullshit in her entire existence. Why the hell would he want to ‘recruit’ her to become a Zed. They already have enough problems without having to employ juveniles with criminal records the length of the Cara River.
Corban her inmate mentor use to tell her a new life was possible, that good people would come along and help us out so we could in turn do the same for others. It had sounded nice, not very practical, or probable, but in fairness to the guy, he wasn’t locked up in the SJDC any more was he.
“You’d have a permanent job, steady wages, you’d have safety, security.” Sueiva didn’t even look up at him now, she gave him nothing. Too many thoughts misted up her own mind to care much about what he was saying.
She remembered saying goodbye to Corban. He had been given a job as a counsellor in a different centre, a facility for younger children on the Murachiden side of the city. He was supposed to be very happy there. He didn’t write to her. He hadn’t promised to, but she had wondered if he would remember her.
As Loku’s voice droned on about the great opportunities, career advancements, the worlds out there for her to see, she stared down at the cold shining metal table. It was ten times more interesting to her than anything the Sergeant was saying.
She could feel his insecurity pressing down upon her. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to get through to her. Sueiva wondered why he cared at all.
He closed over the file in his hand in front of him and slid it away.
“Let me cut to the chase. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life locked up like this, wearing a collar like a dog and being treated like one?”<br>The passion in his voice caused her to glance up at him, her eyes caught his and in them he let his word swim in conviction.
“When was the last time someone has shown you respect, treated you like a living being instead of a number.”
Maybe he cared, maybe he’d been through the same thing as her, well maybe something like it. Maybe he knew how crappy she felt about being called inmate 612, being fed chained to a table, getting electric molecular therapy a few times a week, beaten by other inmates for being a blood. Maybe he’d felt what it was like being locked away from the world because people deemed you unfit for society.
“I can give you a family Sueiva, a home. God don’t you think you deserve it.” Sueiva didn’t cry, it had been years since she had shed a tear, and she didn’t now, but it was like she felt all her mental exhaustion see a hope that hadn’t been there before. A hope that said Corban hadn’t been impractical, she had just been pessimistic. If she was free, maybe she could start her life over again, take a new name, forget her past, forget what she had done.
“What have you got to lose?”<br>
The Sergeant was right, what did she have here, nothing, you can’t lose nothing.
Looking back she can’t blame herself, she was a child searching for the light of hope out of hell, she didn’t know losing nothing could be so costly.
She reached across the table gripping the pen in her hand and signed her life away.
She’s a tad aggressive and a fowl mouth my apologises and warning (but its mild enough).
Opinions and criticism welcome.
“You’ll have a new life, a new existence, a chance to start over. No more of this, shady record to impinge upon you.” Sueiva glance up into those cool dark cloud coloured eyes set into the sharp face. The man was made of clean cuts and straight edges the high cheek bones and curved jaw looking too perfect to be a blood, somebody had designed this, sculpted it like the master with their clay.
“You’ll be free.” He continued, his vice confident in himself.
The Sergeant had introduced himself as Soranu Loku with a tight handshake and an intense eye that slashed right through Sueiva slicing her up and examining every inch of her, pulling every meaning she radiated with her demeanour.
She felt his mind make calculations about her, answer questions in his head that he could never really know the true answer to unless she spoke to him, unless she gave him the real answer. Yet Sueiva witnessed him do what hundreds of others did as he made his assumptions about her.
Sueiva was sitting across a cold metal table from the Sergeant in the Saitha Juvenile Detention Centre, SJDC’s, interrogation room, playfully known as the Grey Breaker.
The walls were a solid murky grey and if you stared at them long enough you felt your mind absorbed into the colour succumbing to its hypnotic emptiness and in theory, then you’d talk. The Administrators would leave inmates in the Grey Breaker for hours without food, water or contact to get them ready for ‘talking’.
Sueiva hadn’t broken yet. She’d been in Saitha for five months. It kind of blew their methods out of the water.
Her right elbow was bolted tightly to the fixed metal chair so she couldn’t move, or more importantly ‘lash out’ as her therapist was always giving out to her for. She would only ever lash out with good reason.
So don’t give me a good f***ing reason.
There was a thick chain attached to the clasp on her arm that linked to the tight wide metal collar around her neck. Everything was an axanth alloy with Earth steel to make it extra strong and resistant to heat Mods. They didn’t have the expenses to personalise everybody’s locks so a set standard was made to suit all kinds of dangers. For Suieva it was over the top, unless she got her hands on dexel she’d be useless against anything tying her down.
This Loku guy was offering her a ‘new life’. She’d never smelt so much bullshit in her entire existence. Why the hell would he want to ‘recruit’ her to become a Zed. They already have enough problems without having to employ juveniles with criminal records the length of the Cara River.
Corban her inmate mentor use to tell her a new life was possible, that good people would come along and help us out so we could in turn do the same for others. It had sounded nice, not very practical, or probable, but in fairness to the guy, he wasn’t locked up in the SJDC any more was he.
“You’d have a permanent job, steady wages, you’d have safety, security.” Sueiva didn’t even look up at him now, she gave him nothing. Too many thoughts misted up her own mind to care much about what he was saying.
She remembered saying goodbye to Corban. He had been given a job as a counsellor in a different centre, a facility for younger children on the Murachiden side of the city. He was supposed to be very happy there. He didn’t write to her. He hadn’t promised to, but she had wondered if he would remember her.
As Loku’s voice droned on about the great opportunities, career advancements, the worlds out there for her to see, she stared down at the cold shining metal table. It was ten times more interesting to her than anything the Sergeant was saying.
She could feel his insecurity pressing down upon her. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to get through to her. Sueiva wondered why he cared at all.
He closed over the file in his hand in front of him and slid it away.
“Let me cut to the chase. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life locked up like this, wearing a collar like a dog and being treated like one?”<br>The passion in his voice caused her to glance up at him, her eyes caught his and in them he let his word swim in conviction.
“When was the last time someone has shown you respect, treated you like a living being instead of a number.”
Maybe he cared, maybe he’d been through the same thing as her, well maybe something like it. Maybe he knew how crappy she felt about being called inmate 612, being fed chained to a table, getting electric molecular therapy a few times a week, beaten by other inmates for being a blood. Maybe he’d felt what it was like being locked away from the world because people deemed you unfit for society.
“I can give you a family Sueiva, a home. God don’t you think you deserve it.” Sueiva didn’t cry, it had been years since she had shed a tear, and she didn’t now, but it was like she felt all her mental exhaustion see a hope that hadn’t been there before. A hope that said Corban hadn’t been impractical, she had just been pessimistic. If she was free, maybe she could start her life over again, take a new name, forget her past, forget what she had done.
“What have you got to lose?”<br>
The Sergeant was right, what did she have here, nothing, you can’t lose nothing.
Looking back she can’t blame herself, she was a child searching for the light of hope out of hell, she didn’t know losing nothing could be so costly.
She reached across the table gripping the pen in her hand and signed her life away.