Hidden Evil Chapter Nine

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I was made to stay in the jet while Andreas and the other man talked outside. Andreas was outside, speaking with the other man. His voice was angry and frustrated, I noted with satisfaction.
“How on earth did they get away?” He shouted at the Fridge man.
“He’s highly trained. We were both there when he dealt with those who didn’t please him.” Came a deep voice.
This was the first time I had heard him speak, other then the animal bellow of pain he had given when he was cut. While I listened, I thought frantically. Were Marc and Caitlin going to come get me, or be sensible and continue with what we were doing?
But Andreas had started to speak again, so I listened closely. “Karsten, you are an imbecile. But it doesn’t matter. We have Juliana. Once we give her a chip, she can control Marc and Caitlin and make him come directly into Crest’s trap.” Both the men laughed, and then I heard footsteps coming closer to me.
I jumped upright and kicked out. Then nearly screamed in pain. Not only was Karsten built like a fridge, he was hard as a brick wall. My kick didn’t do squat, except possibly break my foot.
I tried to ignore the pain and tried to control their minds. Stop. Free me and the other weapons. I thought hard in their direction, making my newly blue eyes cold as ice. All I found was that impentratable bubble again.
“Like I said, don’t bother.” Said Andreas, unfazed and smirking. My hands itched with the urge to slap that smirk off his face. So I did. It felt amazing.
Andreas looked shocked for a second, then quickly recovered. “Have fun while you can, Juliana. But your powers don’t work, because we are protected. And soon, you’ll be just another mindless robot. And I’ll be your master.” I had to work to keep the fear out of my voice.
Only an insane person could smile when he was so mad. “In case you didn’t realize, master,” I said, putting as much insolence into my voice as possible, “This isn’t a Hollywood movie. No need too play the big bad wolf gloating over his victim.”
His face darkened and he took a step forward, but Karsten put an arm out to stop him.
But Andreas said, “You saw what we did to Alex. He was selling information. So we killed him. And if you bother me, I’ll kill you too.” I ignored him, and Karsten picked me up and slung me over his shoulder.
Then I was carried, struggling pointlessly, of the dock and into a huge building. Shaped like a dome, it had a metal tinge and smelled like disinfectant. I passed many people, almost all of them in jumpsuits, with nametags. They walked stiffly and almost as though they were being dragged.
Karsten spoke to me for the first time. “All the people in jumpsuits are weapons. Those dressed normally are trainers.”
I ignored him, and instead concentrated on kicking and punching him. It didn’t do anything, and he acted as though he felt nothing at all. We went through a door and I heard a familiar voice.
“This is the new weapon?” I heard the rustling of paper, then the familiar voice came again. “Juliana Antoinette. I’ll implant its brain chip.” I was set down by Karsten, and strapped down to a coldly metallic operating table.
Matt’s face came into view. His face was expressionless, and I remembered his words.
‘”If any of you give me away, I will manage, but the police may never find all the miscellaneous parts of your bodies. If they find any.”‘
So I put on my poker face, honed from years of practicing law. “Who do you think you are?” I inserted all the venom I felt towards anyone involved.
“I am not an it, I am a human. More then you are. You are a vile trafficker of human lives. You aren’t fit to live in a cardboard box, you unprincipled, disgusting vermin!” Inside, I felt confused.
If Matt was really a double agent, then I couldn’t give him away. If he was pretending to be a double agent, did that make him a triple agent? I tried to get inside his head, but I got that same bubble, a wall of resistance.
“Actually,” he said, allowing menace to thread through his voice, “You are not a human. You are a weapon. And I am your master.”
I had time to wonder whether all criminals were so unoriginal, and then he raised his hand and brought a needle into my arm. I felt a numbness seep through my entire body, even though I was conscious.
I tried to move, and found that I couldn’t. The whitewashed walls seemed to close in, and I got a claustrophobic feeling, as though the Velcro straps holding me in place were slowly tightening, like snakes that slithered around you and slowly squeezed all the life out of you.
Then I felt a new feeling, coming through the numbness. It was a sort of pressure on my skull, and I had a slight headache. I attempted to move my head, to get in a more comfortable position.
However, Karsten put his hands on either side of my face, and kept my head from moving. My brain was working at full speed, processing what was happening. I assumed that I had been numbed for an operation. Considering that I was to have a brain chip inserted, I was sure that that was what was going on. I started to panic, but then that feeling seemed to slip away into the darkness, just like Matt had done a night or two ago.
Instead, I felt a dull annoyance. When I had the brain chip, it would apparently control my mind, and make me unable to combat Crest’s commands. I would be a toy, and my powers would be used to harm others. I knew that with my power, all the people who were fighting or rebelling could be forced to obey and do whatever Crest wanted.
I thought of how most of the people in jumpsuits had moved stiffly, as though they were being dragged, and I felt proud of them, even if they were strangers. They were putting up a fight, making it harder for Crest by just that little bit. And making my job just that much easier.
Slowly, I was brought back from my state of deep thought. Karsten had released my head and left. The numbness was seeping slowly out of my body. Matt stood by me, looking down. Then I felt his thoughts pushing towards me.
I was surprised, thinking about how there had been a barrier, but accepted his thoughts. Listen carefully. The barriers have been lifted, because you now have a brain chip, and can be controlled by a button. I struggled against the bonds but stopped at his thoughts.
Stop and listen. I did plant a chip in you, but it’s fake. It doesn’t do anything. Right now, you need to act as though you are controlled, so that they don’t plant a real one in you. You will get free reign of the compound, within certain boundaries. Always stay with one other weapon, so that you can follow orders. Keep a thread of contact with me. Can you do that? I sent back a thought to him, telling him that I could do that, and he left, thinking to me. Get up, and walk out the door. Follow the others, and act like your struggling.
Then he was gone, and I slowly go up. I put an expression of great effort on my face, and made my steps slow and dragging as I headed out the door. When I got to it, it opened immediately to a stream of people, all heading to the same place. I scanned the ocean of people for Matt, but I couldn’t spot him.
Moving jerkily, I joined the throng and began to head towards the door at the end of the hall, where the others were exiting. Everyone walked in lines, with no pushing or shoving. Their arms and legs moved in unison, as though one mind were controlling them. I struggled to match the pace of the others, and finally fell in behind a small weedy man who reminded me of one of my high school professors.
I looked around again, more carefully. This time I was looking at the building instead of the people. I noted exits and hallways, letting my limbs fall into the pattern. When I glanced in front of me, I saw the man in front of me walking out of step.
He kept halting, and I could see him struggling. Though I felt like joining him, I knew I had to keep quiet. Then, quite suddenly, the man stopped altogether, looked around, and began to run. He ran like a rabbit, dodging people who continued to walk.
“Come on!” he yelled. “Fight! Get free!” Some people turned their heads, obviously going against what the brain chip was telling them. The man ran and ran, going towards the door as fast as he could.
I felt a bubble of joy rise in my throat, thinking he was going to make. Then he stopped as though he had been axed, and dropped with an expression of surprise.
He didn’t make a sound, just dropped. And none of the people seemed to notice. They just kept on walking, keeping the awful rhythm, and it took all my control not to run to the fallen man. Then, a voice rang out, sounding odd over the hidden speakers.
”Disposers report to hall three. Disposers to hall three.” I heard a grating sound, and the intercom turned off. By now, I was in front of the man, and I didn’t dare look back. However, I heard people talking in loud voices as they came down the hall. Their voices startled me, and broke the almost hypnotizing march of feet against the floor, the only sound that had been heard other then the man.
We all heard the people bend down, and the sound of a body being lifted. Grunting, three men and a woman walked by, carrying the weedy man. I felt a pang, as though I should have done something.
But I steeled myself, and tried to make myself feel cold, like ice. After awhile, I gave it up, and let my mind wander while keeping pace with the others. Marc had mentioned papers, and with any luck, he had gotten away with them. What did they say? I thought about asking Matt through my mind whether I could contact Marc or Caitlin and ask them, but then I decided against it. Instead, I concentrated on being a mindless robot, and finding out as much as I could.
“Only as high as I reach can I grow, only as far as I seek can I go, only as deep as I look can I see, only as much as I dream can I be.”




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Cool, alright, I've read up to the end of this chapter and on my way through I had some general thoughts that stuck with me. If this review is a bit all over the place, that's because, well, it is. So bear with me, huh? :)

Nice not so nice
I take it you've never been to the city of Nice or France? Well, I've had the luck of spending a couple weeks in the country and a day in that city and I thought your portrayal was lacking some things that could really bring the place to life.
A. Pay attention to how people talk. Much like how in the US someone from Brooklyn talks different than someone from New Orleans the same goes in other countries. You describe a resident of Nice as talking in rapid fire French when the people there I conversed with were more languid and slow with their speech (probably the heat).
B. Bilingual signs are a no no. It's not Canada, the sign about swimming and tubing or whatever would be in the mother tongue.
C. Boys probably wouldn't give phone numbers as in my experience cell phone usage isn't as rampant in France as it is in the States. They'd probably more likely hand them their MSN instant messenger addresses (which is much more popular than AIM). These are little things, but make the country look more like a product of your imagination.
D. The spacing out of a 'de la' or 'du' or what have you in someone's last name is sort of an outdated practice in my experience and is kinda aristocratic. When traveling incognito you don't want ticket takers, customs officials, etc. taking a second look at your name. Try something less flashy than de la fontaine. Short, one syllable, common would be best for forged documents.
E. When Marc describes that he worked for 'the French navy seals' there's really no reason he wouldn't identify himself in the French terms he knew it. The 'Fusiliers Marins' are probably the analogous organization.

I sorta laughed every time...
I heard the name of the 'bad dude organization' was Crest. In my mind, Crest is a toothpaste company. It's sorta like naming your evil organization Pepsi. It takes the fear away.

Where's the struggle
How come Julianna can control her telepathy right out of the gate? I mean, if I could look into people's minds I imagine it would be difficult to control and turn off. Crowded places would be a nightmare as scientifically it is impossible to focus on a single thought. Also note how thoughts are formed in the brain, not a single clear impulses but as a whirling storm of fragments and half sentences, desires and commentary. Show some of the intricacies behind this process and it'll become much more interesting.

Fight club
This fight scene in chapter eight is underwhelming. When someone gets shot they don't shake off bullets like it was nothing, no matter how tough. The bullet expands when it hits you and produces a blow back effect, especially at close range that pushes the body. If you take a shot in the shoulder you're going to fall back. When the air gets knocked out of you, you do more than open your mouth for air. Your whole body kinda convulses, your stomach starts to hurt and you grab at it, it's no fun. A trained killer probably would direct punches at the chest as its likely to break the weaker bones of the fingers that to do real damage to the punchee. He'd be more likely to target the stomach or neck which are much more vulnerable.

Hmm, there's probably more, but my computer battery is running low. I know I just threw a lot of criticism at you, so I guess this is the time to say that I've enjoyed reading this so far, and am pretty impressed with some of the dialouge, especially since this is your first time. There was some line about 'shadows hugging a character like an old friend' that I just loved!
I'm the anti-grammar hack, so someone else might need to help you with that. I thought the characters started pretty flat but have undergone at least rudimentary change since chapter 2, so you're showing improvement there. I think your plot is moving a little quickly, but it certainly keeps the work fast paced! Finally, I think the output of work from you on this is awesome and you're obviously having fun writing it, so I hope this helps you improve!

-Pattyckaes




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Listen everyone! I've decided to post this under advanced critiques, with the whole finished story! if you want to read it, its right there! Also, i'm thinking about posting my Shattered Mirrors story over there too when its done. Thanks for the reviews!
Sapphira!
“Only as high as I reach can I grow, only as far as I seek can I go, only as deep as I look can I see, only as much as I dream can I be.”



A jury consists of twelve people who determine which client has the better lawyer.
— Robert Frost