(July '17) Prompt #1 - "Independence" [Archive]

ArtisticVicu

07-31-2017, 01:26 AM

"Independence."

The single word crackled from the sound system.

"They say it's something you have to fight to keep."

A wind rolled through the still city.

"They say it's something that only the privileged know. They say that the independence we gain when we transition from child to adult is only an imitation of true independence."

There, on the edge of the shadows, was movement. It was small, barely noticeable unless one was trained to see it. Most were in this world.

"They lied."

A poster smacked against the wall it had been pinned to. It was old, tattered, and barely legible anymore but the propaganda was still very clear.

It was a call to war.

"We can have independence. We deserve independence."

The poster pulled itself free of the wall, the wind taking it through the deserted street.

"We WILL have independence."

The poster floated about, whipped this way and that. It smacked into a pole, a rusting mailbox, the ground.

"And you are the only one that can help us gain such a luxury."

The poster lost its touch with the wind that had been carrying it about. It came to a stop in the middle of a ragged road. Something dashed at it, tearing it to shreds and ridding the world of another "INDEPENDENCE NEEDS YOU" poster.

A shot rang out through the street and the thing in the middle of the street collapsed. Several other things just like the now dead thing dashed forward and ravaged the carcass. The gunner sneered at the scene, selecting a new target. Silencer on, they took out the new arrivals one by one. Luck would seem to be on the gunner's side. With each new carcass, two to four more would take its place. With their current hiding spot, there was no concern of running out of ammo any time soon and this honestly killed a few hours while being rather productive at the same time.

"Independence."

The gunner didn't even flinch when the speakers crackled to life again. The things down in the street seemed to have learned that the audio was useless as well.

"What is it?"

The gunner took aim as a thing brought its head up, seeming to look directly at the gunner before a bullet was between its eyes and its fellow things were ripping into the now dead carcass.

"If you look up the definition, you will find that independence is freedom from the control, influence, support, aid, or the like, of others."

The gunner takes out three more before they're forced to reload. The motion is swift and smooth. There's little noise as the new magazine is locked into place. Ready to go, they took aim. Four more fell.

"And yet, when you look into the cultural context of independence, the word is used for a variety of situations."

The gunner tsked, re-situating themself.

"What matters is that independence - while known as a word by most - is not known as a state of being for many."

The gunner went on shooting things. Not a single bullet was wasted, a blessing of leisure killing. Making their way through the swarm they had inadvertently summoned, the words resounding through the city filled their mind.

"This cannot stand."

The gunner sighed, taking aim on a new target.

"Things cannot remain this way."

For a moment, the gunner found themself near the start of the war, just prior to these things being created. A crowd stretched before them, thousands packed into such a small stretch of land. Panic pulled at them, not at all confident before such a sea of faces. Their stumbled over the words, a pause that was not planned but desperately needed. Taking in a shaky breath, they leaned against the podium before them just a bit more and pressed on.

"Independence cannot be won through war. War breeds fear, fear breeds hate, hate breeds vengeance, and vengeance turns the world blind with 'an eye for an eye'. We cannot obtain independence through war. The greatest way of creating and maintaining independence for all is by creating a culture based out of love and compassion. Curiosity and empathy instead of greed and pride."

The crowd before them roared. It was hard to tell if they were cheering for them or against them. They hoped it was for them as they continued on. "We will be our own destruction if we keep fighting for independence in this way. Instead, let us change the world in a different way..."

"...in a new way."

The gunner blinked, finding themself back in the present. They shuddered, grateful the old recording had finally ended. It wasn't often they got caught up in their own words like that, especially not when the old recordings were being played in almost every city they had gone through. Thankfully, that was the only recording of them. No one had recognize them yet, though the scarring helped. Their voice wasn't the only one spouting words for peace but it had not been their voices that had been heard. Even the one that had first called for war and had changed their standing halfway through had been ignored. Somehow, someway, war won out in the end and the entire world collapsed.

Another shot off.

"Thought I would find you up here."

They looked back, expression curious as they flicked the safety of their weapon. The newcomer was young, bright, and in far better condition than they were. The newcomer offered a soft smile. "Come on. Ride's here."

They grinned. "Bout time," they rasped out. They gestured to the boxes of ammo around them. "Help me pack all this."

The newcomer happily went along with the request, gathering all the boxes and anything else that could be used. They helped the newcomer for a moment before they started getting themself to their feet. They waved off the newcomer, indicating the task the newcomer had. Balance horrible due to a poor prosthetic, they wobbled for a moment before they had re-acclimated to being upright. Taking the newcomer's arm, they shouldered their weapon and followed the newcomer out of the room littered with shell casings.