The Journey To Festival

The race was on! It was time for festival again! The rat-faced boy ran through the dark streets as fast as he could go. When the bright lights at the center of the city shone for all to see, and the thumping bass of the music could be heard throughout the streets, everyone knew it was time for festival.

So he ran, as he knew everyone would run, towards the lights and music. Because festival was the best thing about being alive. It had the best food, the best drink, and was the best time to mate.

But they didn’t run to be the first one to festival. The food and drink would not run out. They ran to avoid the patrols. They ran because, in such large numbers, the chances of the patrols catching them were far less.

They ran through the streets, the broken buildings, the underground passages. Any route they could to make it to festival safely.

The rat-faced boy had made it to festival several times. He had grown in stature, and in speed. He had learned to evade the patrols. He had recently slipped past them to find new, untouched clothing from an unguarded storeroom in the heart of their domain. With these new clothes, he hoped to mate with more than one female at this festival.

His new clothes becoming wet with sweat, he stopped running, taking cover behind the shell of a burned out vehicle. He surveyed the area near the opening to the underground passages. He listened for any sounds other than the rhythmic bass of the music in the distance.

Nearby, he could hear people running. Their bare feet slapping the pavement as they ran. It didn't sound like they were being pursued. The sounds faded away into the distance.

He listened for a few seconds, then ran into the underground passages. As he reached the tunnels, he could hear the sounds of people.

The tunnels were dimly lit, but he could see the silhouettes of several males near the opening of the tunnel that led to the center of the city. They were discussing who should run down the tunnel first, to see if the patrols were laying in wait. They were anxious to go, but couldn’t agree who would go first.

The rat-faced boy volunteered himself. He knew that if the patrols were in the tunnels, he could evade them, probably get past them, and these lesser males would draw their attention. Going first seemed advantageous.

As quickly as he had volunteered, he was running full speed, through the shallow water of the tunnel. The lesser males fell behind as he powered his way through the dimly lit passage.

The air rushing past his ears made it harder to hear, so he focused on the path far ahead, alert to any threat.

Suddenly, he could see flickering lights ahead, coming from an adjoining tunnel. The lights meant the patrols were coming.

He quickened his pace and ran past the opening. The sounds of heavy footwear splashing through the tunnels behind him indicated he had been spotted.

He outran them too.

At the next junction, he detoured into an unlit tunnel. He slowed down as the light faded and he could no longer see. He moved slowly, silently, listening intently, ignoring the sounds of his heavy breathing and pounding heartbeat.

He kept moving towards the music. It echoed through the tunnels and the sound was unmistakable. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief until he heard a commotion from the tunnel behind him.

The lesser males had run into the patrols. There was yelling, screaming, weapons fire, and then silence. His plan had worked. The lesser males had served their purpose.

He continued in silence until he could see signs of light from the next tunnel. He picked up speed as he was able to see better.

The passage opened up into a well lit tunnel of waist deep water. He struggled through the water at his best pace.

In the yellowish light, the water had a milky appearance and an unusually pleasant smell.

He followed the tunnel as it curved around to the right. He could hear the sounds of people moving around ahead, their voices very soft. Almost inaudible.

Females.

As he came into a larger opening, he could see two females huddled in the corner, and a large outlet where the milky water poured rapidly into the chamber where they stood.

When the females noticed him, they ran away, down a raised tunnel. They stuck to the sides of the water in the tunnel, their footsteps making no sounds.

He began to follow them when a light caught his eye from behind the waterfall. He turned to look, but the light disappeared before he could focus on it.

He stood there, between the pool of water and the opening to the tunnel, transfixed on the the waterfall.

He was sure that behind the water he could see movement. He waited because he was sure. Another female was hiding behind the waterfall.

He crouched by the opening to the tunnel, waiting for her to emerge. She seemed to be bathing herself in the waterfall. As she moved, every now and then, the light would glint off of something shiny.

As she emerged from the water, the light shone brightly from a small object around her neck. As she became visible, the rat-faced boy sat there, mouth open in anticipation.

She wiped the water over her face, down her long blonde hair, and looked around the chamber. She seemed unaffected that the other females had fled, and now the rat-faced boy sat there, observing her. She continued as though nothing had happened at all.

He sat there, mouth still agape, entranced by her, thinking to himself how angelic she looked. The milky water made her look pale and ghostly under the yellow light.

She laid down in the water and began to float towards him. He could see she was wearing a pair of tattered shorts, and a white top that was obviously too small for her. As she floated closer, he could see the shape of he body. She was very attractive.

As she floated right under him, he noticed the heart-shaped golden locket around her neck, nestled neatly between her two ample breasts.

Again, the light glinted from the locket into his eyes, breaking him from his trance.

“Aren’t you going to festival?” He asked her softly.

“Perhaps,” she responded quietly, “Perhaps not.”

Perhaps not? Why would you not want to go to festival? She wasn’t making sense.

“Well, you can’t stay down here,” he offered, “The patrols are in the tunnels. They will kill you or worse if they find you.”

“I thought maybe today I would let them catch me.”

What? This female was playing with his mind. The patrols either killed females on sight or they were taken away and never seen again. Why would anyone want that?

“I’m going to festival,” he continued, “You should come too. You’ll be safe there.”

She said nothing. Just continued to float aimlessly. He frowned at her and turned to leave.

“Will there be food there?” She asked.

“Festival always has the best food and drink. All you can consume.” He said, leaving out the other reasons he loved festival. He smiled at the thought of possibly mating with this female.

“Okay.” She said with a shrug, and stood up to follow him.

The angel-faced girl smiled at him as she passed him and entered the tunnel. She broke into a run, and he smiled as he pursued her at full speed.

She was fast, but silent. He could hear his footfalls, but not hers as they ran together.

She obviously knew the way, and soon they were at the passage leading back to the surface.

She hardly broke pace as she ran silently into the moonlit streets like a ghostly vapor.

The rat-faced boy stopped at the mouth of the passage to listen. She may not care about the patrols, but he did. He could only hear the music. It was much closer now. So he ran after her.

They ran through the streets together, through rows of abandoned houses. Ahead, the bright lights of festival shone like a beacon straight up into the sky. The music was becoming clearer.

All around them, he could see and hear other people running towards the lights and music.

A large male came running up from behind them. He overtook them quickly, never breaking stride or making eye contact.

As they rounded a corner, this male tried to cut through the yard of one of the houses, leaping over a small fence. He lost his footing, stumbled, and smashed through a glass door, disappearing into the dark home.

The angel-faced girl slowed down and began to laugh. She walked past the house, her laughter echoing down the street.

As he caught up to her, two figures emerged from behind the house. Very tall, carrying weapons. Their scaly faces and tails obvious in the moonlight.

The angel-faced girl didn’t notice them until they began firing at her. She yelped and ran, and he followed her.

They ran and huddled together in one of the abandoned houses. They could hear the weapons fire getting further away. Others had captured the attention of the patrols.

Before he felt it was safe, the angel-faced girl got up to run again. He reached for her shirt to stop her, but she broke away, leaving her heart-shaped locket and chain in his hand. In an instant, she was out the door and had disappeared silently into the night.

The sounds of nearby weapons fire stopped him from following her. He sat in the dark, clutching the locket in his hand. The angel-faced girl was gone.

When a pack of males came running through the street, he saw his opportunity. He joined the pack, running behind them, ready to break away should they run into another patrol.

They ran the rest of the way, making it through the gates of the stadium to festival. The music shook their bodies. They laughed aloud and raised their hands in victory.

The rat-faced boy ate his fill and drank himself drunk. The heart-shaped locket bounced in his pocket while he danced with the females. He held out hope he would find the angel-faced girl here.

He enjoyed his time at festival thoroughly, even mated with one of the females. He fell asleep with her in his arms, smiling contently. He never found the angel-faced girl.

High above the festival, in rooms above the lights and music, the administrators scanned the crowds below, making their assessments, their tails flicking gleefully, as they worked.

The oldest males, and most of the females were allocated for breeding stock because the females were more evasive in the wild. The females that were already pregnant would be isolated and brought to term.

Twenty percent of the males were in prime shape for immediate harvest and consumption by the population.

Five percent of the herd were too old or weak and would be cooked for the rest of the herd to consume at the next festival.

This harvest met quota, so all hunting parties in the city could keep 100% of whatever they caught.

Once the assessments were completed, the gates were locked, the herd was anesthetized, the music stopped, and the workers culled the herd accordingly. The rest were left to sleep.

When the rat-faced boy awoke, he was alone. The sun was rising and he would need to run and hide again, and avoid the patrols until the next festival.

He dressed himself and found the locket still in his pocket. He made his way into the city, hoping he would see the angel-faced girl at the next festival.