R for language, violence and idealogically sensitive stuff. Speaking of idealogical stuff, I'd better just reinforce this, because I've been called a fascist and Nazi at school for this story when I've shown it to other students and asked what they think: I don't share the views of Red and Sergei in this.
Also, the formatting has gone all funny. I have edited it.
***
Although it was June, it was overcast and quite gloomy, the sun only just peeking through the clouds. People wore jackets and coats and scarves, conscious of the chilly wind blowing from the east. Lower-class workers stumbled after their upper-class superiors, some of whom refused to let them wear anything other than baggy shirts, jeans and battered boots. They still diligently carried out all tasks given to them, their minds turned into soup by various cocktails of drugs, loyal to those beautiful, arrogant bastards.
Quite a few parents were taking their children home from the school for the holidays themselves, bringing workers along to fetch and carry heavy bags, who were either ignored or tripped up. As the oldest students were eighteen, some were driving themselves, or getting a lift from partners and friends, off to have a celebratory drink. Set close to the centre of town, quite a few people passed the school: business men and women in suits, Hunters with their shockpistols and knives, people out shopping, and workers delivering or fetching or carrying.
At long last, the final exams were over. The students had been pumped full of Neurospeed, their first introductory shots before they'd start the course of taking pills every morning and evening along with the sedatives. Students strode out of the academy, the eighteen-year-old seventh years keeping mainly to themselves, biting their lips, eyes flicking about. The first effects of the large dose of Neurospeed had begun to take effect, inducing paranoia. Although the sedative they were given after could combat anarchistic thoughts, not much could calm the fear that their fellow students were spies, the teachers had injected them with poison and that someone was out to Get them.
Preoccupied with various anxieties and worries, Red would've walked past Sergei - her boyfriend who had been a Hunter for nearly three years, now - if he hadn't stopped her. She tensed and staggered back before realizing who it was and relaxing a little; he’d been taking all sorts of pills since he graduated, ones that made you calmer. He’d know about it.
"What's the matter?" He asked, pulling her over so that others could get past.
She looked quickly around her, biting a nail.
"Can't say--they'll get me," she muttered.
Sergei sighed, noticing the little pinprick on the back of her hand.
“Oh, that. I remember that...I barricaded myself in my room and refused to come out for a few hours...things were pretty similar everywhere else, too. Thought they were waiting out there to kill me or something. It was nuts. Believe me, it'll wear off soon enough," he said.
“Why’re you here?” She suddenly asked, looking suspiciously at him.
"You’re coming over to my house, remember? You said we could go for a drink somewhere first and then go back to mine, so I came to meet you.”
These words seemed to do nothing for her, and she took a step back, looking warily at him through her dull green eyes.
"You can trust me. We've been seeing each other for six months now, and I can assure you that there's no-one less likely to kill you. I have something here to help you calm down a little, but you have to promise to take it and not just palm it," he said, taking a small bottle from his battered courier bag. Red caught a quick glimpse of a large book, another book of music for the piano, a box of pills, a handheld and a notepad; nothing particularly sinister.
"I'm guessing you were given some of this in the shot," he said as he shook a pill out, putting the cap back on. "They don't really give you enough, though, because they get scared that parents will get angry about you getting given 'too much' of it. It might make you a bit woozy or tired, but you'll be fine," he explained, giving her the pill.
A look of confusion crossed Red's face as she held the tablet with a pale hand trembling like a leaf in a breeze.
"Promise it won't hurt me," she whined, ready to pop it into her mouth and swallow it.
"You'll have to take it every day after they've given you the third shot, anyway. I promise that it'll be okay," he said, slightly annoyed at her mistrust for a second.
She closed her eyes tight and downed it, her fists clenched so much that her knuckles looked like they'd pop right out of her skin. For ten seconds she kept her eyes shut, her face drawn and pale looking. Slowly, she opened them both and blinked, squinting as the dull light of the sun stung her eyes. She let out a long sigh and smiled weakly, rubbing her forehead. Sergei placed his prescribed sedatives - the ones all Hunters were forced to take along with Neurospeed - in his bag and raised his eyebrows a little. It was hard to judge how he was feeling; Sergei had a long-lived habit of showing as little emotion as possible when in a ‘neutral’ mood, a long lived paranoia of his telling him they'd know what he'd do next.
"Feeling any better now? Less scared?" He asked her.
"Yes, I'm okay, I suppose...feel a little drowsy, though," she said, blinking slowly.
She looked different out of the school uniform she had to wear at the academy, less austere and serious, perhaps. She wasn't very tall, and sometimes got mistaken for a younger girl in the uniform, much to her annoyance. Although the other girls abstained from wearing too much blusher in case they'd look perpetually embarrassed, Red wore quite a bit of it, adding to her eerily doll-like appearance, something which made her firmly in the upper class. Her boyfriend had a similar strangely perfect quality about him, his body lean and svelte; his eyes a rather piercing blue, which was unnerving when he held eye contact with another for too long. He looked younger, his real age, out of his own Hunter uniform, something which pleased him, as he was often mistaken for his late father when in uniform, but was unmistakably himself, Sergei Kalle, without it.
"It was my last exam today, the ‘Dealing with workers’ one. I had to write a whole essay on why they’re treated as they are, and answer some questions about medicines and stuff. Still, I have to stay on until my results get through; I send off my referral and get an interview. I'm applying for your division, you know. Apparently it'd be the best nearby one for me...that, and I have you there," she said, clinging to his arm and appearing much more cheerful than before, if tired. The exam had been hard work—to inspire them into writing more, they’d been shown a quick film about some workers who were all about to be punished in some way. Red had felt sick when she saw a haggard man with a crooked nose and deep-set eyes who had apparently plotted to murder the people he worked for. She knew they’d all do that, given half a chance—ugly characters to match ugly faces. If only she could get her hands on them...
"Let’s get a drink, now," he said, starting to walk away from the school.
Nodding, Red strode along with him, almost walking into a delivery worker carrying a package. The girl had a bad case of acne and wild, frizzy hair; features that placed her in a low caste and at the mercy of those above her, such as Hunters, like Sergei. She accidentally slammed into Red, dropping her package.
Sergei instantly pulled Red closer to him and drew his shock pistol from where it was hidden around the side of his coat, setting it to ‘5’ and aiming carefully at the worker.
His amiable expression dissolved into a murderous glare.
“What are you doing?” He snarled. “You scumbag, you hurt her…you aren’t even worthy to fucking look at her, and you hurt her. You’ll be happy to know that I’m a Hunter, a Captain, and that this is my girlfriend and soon to be a fully-fledged Hunter as well. I could have you killed for this, you know. I could have you killed oh-so slowly and painfully for this,” he continued, his voice now a furious hiss.
The girl grabbed her parcel and cowered, terrified of this man with a gun and the shocked-looking lady he was holding close to himself.
“Pl-plea-please…sorry…sorry…I-I-I…it was an accident, sir. I di-didn’t mean to hurt her, sir! Please don’t hurt me!” She whimpered, beginning to weep uncontrollably, averting her teary gaze from the two, as she’d been told not to look at them.
Red felt a sneer creep onto her face, contorting her pretty features. This girl was positively pathetic; the cringing made her feel sick. How dare she walk right into her? That was wrong. Let them walk into people, and they’d soon be stabbing and shooting others.
A few people had stopped to watch, most calling names at the girl who had elbowed Red.
“Tried to assault a Hunter’s girl? Ooh, hell, you’re in for it!” Heckled another worker, this one of near decent appearance, middle class.
“Stupid bitch! Look where you’re going next time!” Called a classmate and friend of Red’s, a boy called Ulfgam.
“Give her hell, Captain!”
“Stomp her face into the ground!”
“Go on, ‘lecky her, sir!”
It carried on until the girl wobbled, howling and clutching her parcel.
“I’m sorry, ma’am! I’m suh-sorry, sir! I’ll do anything, but please don’t hurt me…” she begged, looking to various people in the crowd for mercy.
Sergei laughed scornfully. “Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘take an eye for an eye’? You hurt Red, and that means I hurt you. You did something bad, so I get to do something bad back. Get it?” He said, wanting nothing more than to make the girl writhe in pain. Setting 2…that’d do. Setting 2, what the teachers at Hunter academies used on you if you misbehaved badly. Setting 2, the one favored of torturers.
She nodded frantically.
“Yessir, I understand, but I’ll do anything! Please, please, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry,” she gabbled, shying away like a beaten dog.
“You pathetic little slut…look at you, begging for forgiveness from me. You honestly think that you'll get it?" He said, grinning maliciously. "Tell me who you're running an errand for. I think I'll take you to see them right away, and I swear I'll see you beaten within an inch of your life. Maybe it won't be as bad if you do exactly as I say."
Looking reproachfully at the crowd, the girl clung to her package as if it contained jewels and riches.
"I have to deliver this to Mister Vasir, sir. It's from his mo-mother, Miss Vasir. I d-don't know what's in the package pleasedon'thurtme," she said, tears still trickling down her cheeks.
"Right. Take me to her," he ordered, loosening his grip on both his gun and girlfriend. He looked to Red, who was scowling at the girl.
"Are you okay?" He asked.
"Yes...just a bit hurt from where she walked into me. I think it was on purpose. She argues back and tries to bargain more than the others do, so maybe she isn't getting enough Neurokill," she said, much to the approval of the crowd and the horror of the girl who burst into fresh tears her skin taking on a grey tinge.
"Hmm, I see. Give me your number, and I'll sort this out on a later date--I have better things to be doing than dealing with filth like you," he said, internally reprimanding himself for having to change his decision.
"11-23-7, sir," she said, hiccupping from all of her crying.
He took his handheld out of his bag and quickly made a note, before waving her away.
"But remember, 23, that I will be contacting someone about you. It's more than likely that you'll get dragged out of bed or out of your work to get disciplined. Now go away. Go on, bugger off."
The crowd dispersed after 23 had tried walking through them, getting shoved down to the floor and laughed loudly at.
She dragged herself up, and ploughed on, slumped like a wilting plant. A wilting weed, Red thought.
Sergei ignored her and carried on walking with Red, on the warpath, glaring behind his glasses.
"Are you sure that you're okay? Don't worry, I'll make sure that clumsy bitch is dealt with," he promised.
Now here I am to give you your first purple review (I think). Science fiction tends to not get as many reviews as other stories on here, so I'm here to try to amend that.
) but both are acceptable.
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 4