The Depths of Hell

"Your love is automatic, it burns like gasoline. It consumes me in the fire; Cum hard like a wet dream"

As I sat there prepping my gear to venture out into the barren wastelands of the territory of "Open" in search for her; I sat and listened to one of my most favored of songs by The Sweetest Condition; "Depths of Hell". I realized that It had been ages since I had seen the vocalist Leslie in person, let alone in concert. She was a dear friend, from a group of people that I often spent a great deal of time at various clubs, events and concerts within the Midwest Goth Community. Unfortunately; The sickness, war, and return of the old gods made concerts near impossible, and worse unless you were in a mega city with good orbital protection, or lived in a territory like RAIN; it was a down right a death trap for those foolish enough to be entranced by the pied piper of the human condition. Worse; the ages of social media and mass communication was long since dead. These days any digital media was completely Corporate controlled, Alien controlled, or an intentional trap by some misanthropic Neuromancer, or god forbid Cult trying to lure the unsuspecting masses into an almost guaranteed death trap. Thus unless you had a Rogue Magi who was willing to cobble together a piece of tech, so that they could sell it for enough coin to buy a tube of "C.H.O.W." ("Chemically Homogenized Organic Waste"); there was little one could do to "check in" on their friends, family and loved ones. I still shudder at the thought of "C.H.O.W." ; Only the truly desperate each that shit.

“On no,.. I can’t stop crying,… But you’ve gone and done your worst”

The melodic mesmerizing song of Leslie's voice haunted my very being all these decades later; I could hear her aching soul in every word that she spoke in this song, on my cobbled together DIY headphones that I made from speaker wire, a spring, two magnets, and a couple of carefully cut straws, as her heart felt song rang out in my ears. Along with my headphone; my beaten up home made Arduino MP3 player, & a USB solar charger; these were my most prized possessions. I had made it after the collapse of society and it served me well. The tech industry these days in the 4th tier societies, such as RAIN, Urbana, and Blue; were driven on cybernetic implants, bio-augmentation, and all sorts of Human Alien hybrid tech. But we few that lived out in the Planes Northwest territory of Open? We were greatly limited by only 1st tier economies of trade and barter. Thus we only had what ever tech would could salvage, trade, or scrap from the wreckage of downed alien craft, abandoned Military infrastructure, or various other Industrial and civil environments lost to the antiquities of time. We were really a society of nomads forgotten by humanity and left to rot in the open wastelands, or become the food of some crazed animal or mutant. Thus what tech we had, we had to make on our own or be extremely creative and industrious with our limited resources.

“Why don’t you stop lying; when you love,.. it hurts”

Which was why my tech came from the most unexpected of resources that I often made by hand, traded from time to time with those I was able to find out here who were not half mad with sickness, or mutated from the radiation, plague, or god knows what. Out here in the wasteland, we only had what we could muster from our driven need to survive. Some people though, they managed to land gigs with the Corpo’s and would be sent into the worst of places to mine, salvage, recover, or even hunt. Those pour unfortunate souls often times were foolish enough to be tricked into financial servitude by their corporate masters. They would lie, deceive, and even trick the most helpless of people into giving up their freedom for technological stability in exchange for the illusion of sustainability. Out here in the waste’s an unsuspecting fool will trade everything they have for Food, Water, and Shelter. The Maslow's need hierarchy; plays a delicate role in the rules of survival. The Mega Corporation’s Know this well.

“I’m gonna fight for you, I will keep your demons away.”

That’s why when I heard that “SHE” was on contract retainer with Shinbatsu Corp; my heart sank into the lowest darkness of the immortal abyss. I held her Heart shaped locket which hung around my neck close and tight with my right hand. The idea that She was out here doing a job for the worst company in the NHA network sickened me to my core. Those bastards,… I punched the crumbling wall beside me; what the fuck could they have offered her that would have made her return to Dallas. There was nothing there. That region was littered with wreckage, dead bodies, Plague carriers, and worse the Hunter killer drones of the Nahua Alien race. It was a fucking death trap. No one would cross the border into the dead lands. What were they after in that city? What could she possible want from that place? What did those evil bastards have on her to make her risk everything just to go into the taboo lands. Worse? Why didn’t she tell me she was going?

“I’ll be your champion if you wont even fight for yourself”

I locked in the magazine into my Gravity well Magneto gun that I took off of a dead Vitki soldier I had found in the wasteland. The metal salvo in the mag still confused me how it worked. The tech of those Nordic Aliens was fucking weird. You literally fed any metal you could find into the magazine, and through magnetic induction, it would liquefy the material and then store it into a second chamber in the housing. Then once loaded into chamber; the gun itself would literally make munition for itself based on what you fed it. It would also give you an option of what types of rounds it could create from the base material you gave it and then tell you how many of each you had on hand. What was stranger yet was that it actually reacted to your neurological impulses and somehow “knew” what rounds you needed as you were fighting, based on what it had available. Crazy tech man.

“I’ll be your legacy; drag you from the depths of hell!”

I set off into the waste, grabbing my cobbled together “Spec” grav bike, I shot off down the autobahn as fast as my vehicle could handle. The drive was brutal; between the searing hot heat of the sun, the near blinding dust that swept across that plains, and the dodging of endless piles and heaps of vehicular wreckage at high speeds, it took everything you had to get to where you were going. But what made matters worse was when you were down near the border; Just as I had entered the edge of the former sunken city of Dallas in the forbidden zone, my Military issued Solo Spec got picked up on the scanners of what I thought at the time was a standard Alien drone.

Boy was I wrong.

“I can hear the bells ringing”

Skimming at high speed over the polluted waters of the abandoned city towards where I knew she’d be; I felt the searing heat of one of the blast’s wizz past me and strike one of the buildings beside me. Fuck… that was close. I thought. Another rang out, then another, and another…. They were pissed about something. We Solo’s rarely came here, and it took a very special reason for us Military Assassins to even want to come to this hellish place. I started to wonder at that point if this Aztek Drone was Nahua tech after all. I veered hard as a blast cooked the sludge of water in front of me. Taking this as my one opportunity, I power slide around the wreckage of a half sank Sentinel Ospsey transport. In less than ½ a Klick I’d be upon her old place, where I knew she’d be, especially if this damn thing was hunting her too. This was my only chance to get a shot off; in the split second I had, I aimed… Locked my Vitki Sniper rifle on the engines of that damn “Drone”, and fired off a full automatic volley into it.

“Disembodied souls singing”

In the next few moments of rapid fire succession, I remember screaming a cheer of delight as 7 of my 16 round that I let loose in rapid fire succession connected with the crafts, engines, wings, and cockpit, causing it to explode. Only shortly after regretting my short lived premature celebration. You see, as I rounded that Osprey, using it for cover, while power sliding my spec hover bike with my left hand, while using my shoulder, and right hand to Aim and hit the blasted thing; I failed to notice that the ship I was Aiming at was in fact not a drone as I had previously thought. But a full blown Nahua “Spider” Scout mech. The Hunter Killer Drone… well,.. that was behind me and had caught the back end of my bike in a full searing blast, sending me hurdling into the air, where I became what I can only imagine was an Alien version of a Skeet shoot. The next thing I knew my ass was tumbling end over end into the air, and then suddenly a searing white hot sensation ripped through me coupled with brilliant bright white, blue and purple light.

“This must be the price to love”

The next thing I knew, I was laying halve in the murky polluted water, with my broken body chared, seared, and resembling freshly melted swiss cheese. I knew that I had gotten flung off of my bike and slammed into the building where I suspected she had hunkered down. To be fair; I had senselessly killed thousands of their kind during the Great War, as one of the New Human Alliance Sentinel “Solo’s”. To die now, while trying to save HER life; was in my opinion, only fair, since I had killed so many of theirs. As I laid there shutting down, I wondered deeply; what are Ware crimes to an alien race? For I suspect that I owed them a debt of blood, and it was about time that I paid it. I spat blood in my broken heap. The 20 centimeter wound that went straight through me; was definitely fatal. Fortunately though, it missed the locket; her locket.

“Pay your debts,.. with your blood. “

The last thing she had every given me. Her picture was safe; our pictures of us,… were safe. As I laid there uploading my thoughts to the Sentinel neuronet for the Solo command to review; I looked up at the sky…. It was clear here. No smog, no harsh chemicals. Just clear sky. Almost as blue, like I remembered it from when I was a child. I slowly reached up to my neck and held her locked close in my broken right hand,.. The fall hand shattered my right arm and some of my fingers. I held it as tight as I could. I could barely see as the light was fading from my eyes. I looked up one last time and saw her… She was standing over me now…. My love…. My only daughter….

I saved her….

I must remember that…

I saved her….

Note: I Seth T. Stephens; CEO of Tokumei LLC, do hereby certify that I have full contractual license and permissible rights to use the lyrics of “Depths of Hell” by “The Sweetest Condition” for my professional needs.