Young Writers Society

You're an Innocent

Innocents were started when population rates started soaring despite the forced birth control laws set on the entire world (adopted from the world power China). The populations of Africa, India, and parts of Europe were starting to soar, and people were going to die. It was soon discovered that there was a rise in teen births in those areas. It was then declared that teenagers and young adults from the ages 14-28 would be sent, from all around the world, innocently to the horrid island in order to save the world from overpopulation.

How would they survive? Easy, they must want to live.

Luckily, you're a significant Innocent, because we need you.

We're Anarchy,

A secret organization run under the governments noses by UK and US citizens, but we make up nationalities from every single country. We have people watching for us everywhere. You have been selected as part of our efforts to conquer the control on the seemingly lawless society and win over the loyalty of the Inmates.

Or You're an Inmate

If you are an inmate, you have somehow been contacted by Anarchy and are working for them to help the Innocents. You have been convicted, "lawfully" for something wrong, and you most likely have killed people, in order to survive. You must have been there for at least a 2 years.




Information on the Island-City



Character Slots

No more slots for Innocents or Inmates!

Innocents:
@kayfortnight 1 female Alejandra (20)
@RurouniOfLife 1 male
-thewritersdream 1 female, Talia (17)
@TinyJarStoredDreams 1 male, Alden (17)
@CelticaNoir 1 female
@Craz 1 female
@Buggiedude2340 1 male, Ying-Zhu Fong (14)
@Pandabear7 1 male

(special spot for @Aquestioning)
(minor char) Innocent: Ale (20) @CowLogic

Inmates:
@kayfortnight 1 male, Luca (16)
@RurouniOfLife 1 female
@KnightTeen 1 female, Aleksandra (19)
@Seraphinaxx 1 female, Imogen (17)
-thewritersdream 1 male, Nathan (20)
@FermentingFruit 1 male, Stephen
@Auxiira 1 female, Logan/Dahlia (19)
@Aquestioning 1 male (27?)
@Iggy 1 female/male

(If you would like to join and all the spots have filled, pm me there may be spots for you later!)

You can have both an Innocent and an Inmate only if they are different genders and ages. Mainly to make sure of diversity.

Character Profile




SB Rules
(Even though the Subversion has no rules, the SB has to have some.)



Be careful.

*Extras*
Please start your post as your char in this format:

Innocent or Inmate (whichever you are)
name

Also please make posts at least 3,000 characters or around 600+ words. Description and attitude would be wonderful. Thanks!

I'll make the pilot post, and then everyone's free to post on first come first serve basis. Remember if you're an Innocent you start at Immigration, if you're an Inmate you start at whatever you're doing during that day. You will have to look for the spy Innocents though because you know they are among this group of Innocents. Have fun!

The Innocents have been welcomed onto the island from the spaceships and are now boarding the fully protected buses to tour the city and then be interrogated.

In the island-city the Inmates are about their business, they know today is the welcoming day for the Innocents, and some of them are already preparing to meet them at the Immigration tower. Some of them are excited for all the “gifts” the new prisoners will bring.

Innocent
Talia

I sat quietly in the back of the bus staring out the big window behind me; there were about nine other buses behind us. This year was better than most. Only 500 Innocents. I remembered how in 2035 there were 2,000. I shuddered at the thought of that many innocent people being sent here, and how many were older than 14? How many were 14? I closed my eyes as I heard someone start crying as if reading my thoughts. I wasn’t scared, not at all, but I couldn’t help but pity those who were leaving loved ones behind, who were not prepared to survive, those who weren’t working for a secret organization, and those who were definitely going to die. I wanted to help them, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to find Inmates who are dissatisfied with their life of horrors. I turned from my position and towards the window on the side.

I watched through the window as someone’s store was broken into, nothing done to stop them. Nothing could be done. How does life function here? I wondered. Just as I did I watched as a person came out of the store with a weapon that looked like a large spear--the only difference being that blue electricity was spiraling on the sharp tip--using it to chasing someone. I shut my eyes, maybe it was best not to see it, yet. I was prepared for the worst, but still my heart quickened and my stomach felt as if it was trying to run away from me, leaving me here to fight alone. At least your belly’s reasonable... my thoughts told me. But I didn’t choose to be here, and I would do anything to make sure I get out of here alive and get to see my parents again, if only one more time. The buses rounded a corner and I saw some “normal” society, there was a marketplace of sorts, people buying and selling things. No one seemed to be just out of nothing killing people, but here and there I did notice a lot of stealing. Immediately I was reminded of the one small bag that I brought with me.

Having heard a lot about the treacheries of living on the island, whether true or not, I prepared myself for what people call “The Welcoming”. The thought of it alone made me clutch the sides of my stomach and breathe in and out, deeply. I knew that it would be dangerous, but now that I was here I finally realized that danger unthinkable was really real. And I was in the middle of it. I have never once feared for my life in Australia, though I trained as if I have. I often wished that there were bad people I could fight off or bandits I could give to the police. There was nothing like that.The police worked very quickly to find out the worst crimes and off they went to the island, my hands started to shake slightly, the island I was now in. Don’t think about it. I decided instead to think about where it would be that I would be living and what on earth would I do? What kind of job will I be given and what kind of simulations will they put me through? Those were better things to think about, things that I could at least control. Things that didn't mean me dying. My eyes widened as the bus arrived at the destination. Once I walk out from this building, it all begins. I breathe in one big gulp and then hold my breath as I climb out of the bus with the rest of us Innocents. I try not to look at any faces yet knowing some of them won’t even make it out of this building alive. I just knew that I would.



I didn't want to be so carefully scrutinized by anyone, especially though, not a man. But there he was large and ‘intimidating’ with an electric cigar in his mouth. He blew smoke that danced before my eyes, and did not cause me or the environment harm, it was only killing him inside. He smiled after spending what seemed like forever looking at me.

“Do you honestly think that you’ll be able to make it? I can give you the option to be euthanized, right now.”

I scowled at him.

“Do you honestly think I am that stupid?! Give me the test, now!” I rarely yelled, but he was practically trying to kill me before I had the chance to die.

He laughed at me, this was amusing to him. I wondered how many times he had to do this. Maybe he would prefer if the puny one’s like me were all euthanized so that he didn't have to deal with us. Or maybe he really was trying to give me mercy. I wanted to shake but I didn't allow myself the shame of shaking before this man.

“Suit yourself. I’ll need to ask you some questions before you start the test. The test will test your ability to cope. Basically your reflexes and your strength. The questions will determine the type of work you will be given to start off. If you lose your job you’ll have to find and new one or fend for yourself.”

I nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak to him. The questions were easy; what I did before, what I found easiest to do, a dumb question about color preference, and several other questions that meant nothing to me. When he was done asking he proclaimed I was to be an apprentice shoemaker. I was so caught by surprise I cough-laughed. He was dead serious. A shoemaker? What was this, 2012? Wasn’t everything manufactured? How did the products arrive for such a job? Something inside me felt it wasn’t a real job but a cover for something else. I sighed and nodded saying I accepted the job.

“You’ll report to shop 582 on Revolt Road. Your housing will be provided by your employer.” Again I suggested with the movement of my head that I was okay with it, but really inside every piece of me was shattering. It’s really happening, I’m living here. I fought the urge to close my eyes and shut my fears out.

“Can I take that test now?” It sounded colder than I even intended. He didn’t say a word but stood and hand motioned for me to follow him. I did. He led me out of the small cubicle like office of his and down the long hall where many similar offices were, and many other innocents were going through the same process I had just endured. As we passed down the halls I heard some laughter coming from the rooms. Where people actually enjoying this? Or was it fear brought hysteria?

“Here we are.” No emotion in his voice. I stood in front of a large door, larger than the cubicle rooms we passed at least. It was also made out of iron. It had DNA detecting security, Finally, some technology. The big man pressed buttons despite the technology and the door opened on it’s own. I peered within, there was nothing in the room. Nothing at all, I thought that I would be strong, but it was here that I felt my knees almost give way, shaking my body violently. “No need to be afraid, now.” The mirth in his sarcastic tone sickened me and I stood up straight. I wasn’t afraid.

“What happens now?” I asked him trying my very best to keep my voice steady.

“You fight various objects that are coming towards you. When you can get an object to touch the ground you will move on to the next one, and then the next, there are typically five objects.”

“Typically?!” The panic escaped from my voice.

“The simulation senses your strength, if you’re stronger you’ll have to fight longer. I don’t think you’ll have more than five though.” He said smirking and winking at me. I grinned at him, grateful for the anger he gave me to fight with. Looking confused he nodded towards the room, telling me to get inside. I walked in slowly. The moment my both feet were inside, the door slammed loudly behind me causing me to jump slightly. I readied myself. Stand strong I was repeating those two words over and over, the words often had a calming effect on me; my karate instructor told me to use words to encourage myself. Those were my words.

Seconds later I heard something whiz by the back of my hair, I turned quickly to see a sharp kitchen knife flying, as if magically, towards me. I start to run. The room is real and is spacious so I’m able to maneuver my way around and try to somehow move faster than the object and grab it’s handle. It comes at me again, and I decide to do something different, I bend underneath the knife and come up behind it. Like a human it stops unsure of where I’ve gone and then I grab the handle, and forcefully drag it to the ground.

The knife becomes lifeless and I touch it to find it’s real. I’m tempted to keep it for protection but another object comes at me. It’s a long spear. Similar to the one I saw the shop owner using. I notice the electricity coming from it’s tip and I wince just thinking about the pain it would bring me if it touched me. I immediately put as much space between it and myself. I needed to think. It was much longer than the knife meaning that it cannot be taken down in the same way. I thought of somehow flipping over it, but that was too dangerous. It was taller and thinner so that meant that there would more space around it. all I had to do was get close to it.

But just as I was thinking this the spear turned it’s tip to point straight at me. Harder to grab if it’s horizontal. I quickly decided I had to treat it like a snake. We had plenty of those in Australia, you take a snake from it’s head to protect yourself. As it inched closer to me, it suddenly accelerated in speed and so did I, just as it was about to pierce me I grabbed it’s head, closest to the tip. I could feel the heat of the electricity on my chest as I did that, I felt it fighting me and quickly with force threw it to the ground praying it would hit it. It did. I sighed as the spear became lifeless.

I doubted these were things we would have to deal with on an everyday basis. They were just trying to weed out the weak. There were four other items that came after me, a club, a bow with arrows shooting out of it, I ended up having to catch the arrows to stop the bow, a gun, and a punching glove to represent a fist. After that I was sweating almost everywhere and my breathing was wild, I tried to calm down but couldn't until I was sure it was over. I was sure once the man opened the door and I trudged out.

“Welcome to Subversion, Tally.” By the tone of his voice it sounded like I had earned his respect. I nodded at him, he still didn't have mine.

After the questions and testing, the Innocents are free to go, but they are put in groups of their bus-mates outside for more safety. Yet, there are people coming towards them.

Governor Furia, the President will now take you. Good luck.

I walked into the office and there sat the president of the operation. The one who started it all. "Sit, Miranda."

"It's Governor to you, or Miss Furia."

"Not anymore, today, you start a new life. Your future rests in Subversion. I think you'll like it there, if you don't die first."

A jolt from the bus rattled me awake. You, know, more and more people come here every year, you think they could make the roads a little bit better, maybe with something from this century.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes to focus my vision on the outside. We were just entering the confines of the Innocents' district, the better part of Subversion. It wasn't that good. That would be something that needed to be fixed also, once I got my hands on it. Maybe a hotel over there, a tourist shop over there. This place would be a nice vacation spot... if there weren't the ever looming threat of death hanging around you at all times.

The bus lurched to a halt and a man in a uniform got on the bus. He was sweating profusely and looked like he would throw up and minute now. "Section A-F, you are the newest batch of Inmates on the island Subversion. After you get off this bus, you will be lead into that building," he pointed a shaky finger at the largest building on the island, about five stories, and went back to reading from his paper, "there you will have an aptitude test to determine where you will be working at until the end of your stay here. Good luck and follow me," he sent a quick glance my way and I returned a slight nod. Absentmindedly twisting the ornate ring on my finger, I stood up with the rest of the people on the bus.

I was at the front of the bus and was one of the first to step off of it. Making a show of tying my shoe, I waited until everyone else got off and stepped back on. "Miss, follow the others to the building or else I'll have to get an officer to escort you."

I snorted, "Those officers can't do much of anything for themselves, what makes you think they'll be in any shape to escort someone like me?" I clicked a small button on the ring and a short needle sprouted from it, flinging bouts of electricity everywhere. "Now, don't scream and this will only take a little while. Scream, and it'll hurt even more." I wrapped my hand around his neck and punctured his skin with the needle. He gasped for breath once, twice, and then silence.

"Men, always have to make things so quick." I unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed him out of the seat. Opening a small compartment underneath the seat, I pulled out the things I had stashed there earlier in the week. A small briefcase holding things that you wouldn't be able to find anywhere else on the island, another small metal glove that perfectly encases my hand and the ring that is on it. It holds a few weapons in it. "Oh, I wouldn't have been able to do anything without you." I assembled the glove on whenever the officer from before stepped back on the bus.

"You're still here? You're going to get people suspicious. Follow me," he practically dragged me off the bus and to the side entrance of the building. "Just follow the hallway governor, you'll know who you need to talk to when you see them." And with that, he opened the door, shoved me in it, and latched it shut again.

Innocent
Kaleb

A group of officers circled around me. Others were pushed inside a bus, more like nine of them. "Kaleb. Just get in the bus and we won't have any problems." One of them told me. I eyed every one of them and then realized a dog behind one of them, teeth gritted and it was furious. I took a step away from it and all the officers pulled me down and held my hands in the back of me. They threw me on it and I didn't mind, as long as I could get away from that bastard.

"May I sit here?" I asked a girl. She nodded with a slight smile. "What's going on?" I asked her, a little worried. "I have no clue." She whispered. Five minutes later, a man who looked as though he was a general popped up on the bus. "We are taking you on an island called Subversion. Y'all are lucky, we need y'all. First y'all will take the bus to a boat, by tomorrow y'all will be on the island. Good luck." He said and got back off.

I felt a trace of fear in my throat. "Are you okay?" The girl asked. I nodded and kept looking forward.

"I'm not good with boats." She told me as she shook her head and gulped. I couldn't say anything.

Before we left, the guy re appeared. "One last thing before we let y'all go. When y'all get off the boat you will be transferred to a big building where they will basically interrogate you. Including your strength and mental abilities. Good luck my friends. See you soon." Then he got off.

The bus began to move. The roads were as bumpy as ever. I can't believe that this is even happening me.

The bus ride was about five hours and we made it to the shore. "Get on!" An older man yelled to all of us and pointed to the freaky looking boat. I took a breath and got on. The girl I rode with being behind me.

Once everyone was on the boat, it took about ten minutes for them to take off. I was immediately nervous.

Imogen Trellis
Inmate

I stood in a crowd of other Inmates, watching the Innocent get off the bus. I normally don't bother, most of these people won't last a week. But today is different. Today I'm going to get one of those watches. Use it, sell it, I'll decide later. What matters is that I have it.

Most people leave once they've gone inside the building. There'll be enough time to kill them later. Only those like me, who want one of those watches, or maybe people who've seen a family member from before, remain. This is the boring part. But I'm used to boredom. We all are.

They begin to leave the building, sticking in their groups. One or two of them leave with an inmate they used to know. No one will be here for me. If my dad arrived I'd kill him myself. But I digress. It would be suicide to attack the group, with their laser watches. Still I'm surprised. Usually there's one person foolhardy enough to try.

Anyway, once the large group is gone a few stragglers leave. Most of the other inmates attack them. But not me. A boy of about fourteen is quickly being overpowered, who the hell thought it was a good idea to send kids here, especially kids on crutches. I come up behind his attacker and stab him in the back. Too easy, just like this next part. I offer the boy my hand. "Come on, I'll take you somewhere safe." He follows me willingly.

I lead him into a small alleyway, then turn, "You know I really should thank you."
He looks confused, "For what?"
I smirk at him, "For being so gullible."
On that last word I reach up my hand and cut his throat open. The betrayal in his eyes sends shards of guilt through my body, but I ignore them. Better me and a quick death than some sadistic serial killer.

I go through his stuff quickly. The precious watch, which I pocket; a small amount of money. The rest is just junk, clothes or objects of sentimental value. I stand up and take one last look at my victim. Then I turn and leave the alley.

Alejandra Ibarra
Innocent

There was jeering and shouting as the buses drove through the island, but I smiled and held my head high. I'm helping my world. That's why I volunteered, even though all my university professors attempted to dissuade me from this course. They were jealous of my self-sacrificing nature.

The boy next to me, a child who looks to be on the verge of too young and is clutching a pair of crutches, is trembling. He must have broken a leg shortly before the trip-surgeons can take care of almost any other disease immediately. That or he's a history enthusiast. I ask him, "Are you excited?"

He swallows and looks away. "Isn't the island full of criminals?"

"I'm sure the government will protect us fully. Isn't that why they gave us the trackers?" He's visibly relieved as we leave the bus for the building where our testing will begin.

Inside, we were separated and questioned. The idiot evaluator assigned me to be a carpenter, even after I announced several times I was a scientist, thank you very much, and I had no clue how to carpent. Is that how one says to practice carpentry? I suspect not, by the way the examiner laughed, but how would I know? Carpentry is a thing of the history books.

Next he sent me into an empty room to begin the tests. Virtual weapons flying everywhere. I didn't realize I was supposed to catch them, not dodge them-no wonder he looked so annoyed when I exited. Still, he said I passed. The tests were easier than I thought they would be. From how my friend Ramon spoke back home, I would have to fight a virtual dragon with nothing but the clothes on my back. That's why I wore a scarf. Figured I could strangle it if necessary. Too bad he was joking.

Soon we were all released outside, and the Inmates converged upon us. One nice looking girl helped the boy on crutches along. Some of the others were total barbarians, though, kicking and biting and scratching. I remembered my watch and used the taser so I could get on my way to work. This wasn't nearly as bad as I was expecting from what my friends all told me. After all, some of the inmates were helping people, so they couldn't all be bad, right?
***************************************************
Luca
Inmate

Just a day ago, I was sitting in the quarters of my contact with Anarchy. She was flipping through the pages of a binder filled with photos of the inmates due to come the next day, explaining who she wanted me to convince to join the organization. "You really should aid a candidate that's younger than you-"

I interrupted for the third time that night. "Candy, has Anarchy looked into the missing kids yet?"

She sat up straighter and affixed me with a glare. "They're probably dead, boy. There's plenty of people on this island who would kill them for fun."

"And I would know if that happened. Even the psychopaths don't dare hide information from me. They're too afraid I might be one of them. These kids were taken, and nobody on the island knew about it."

"What makes you expect us to know about it?"

"Easy. You have contacts off the island. I know you do."

He shook the memory away. Stupid, stubborn woman. Though no more stubborn than himself-there were plenty of naive Innocents who he could easily convince to join Anarchy, but instead he was watching to see if they shipped anything back when they returned the planes that had carried them here. His latest theory was that the island born children were being taken back when the Innocents were dropped off. There was no one on the island specifically targeting children born with diseases that the mainlands had long ago eradicated for death, so this was the only theory that made sense. The hemophilliac, asthmatic, mentally disordered children were all disappearing. He glanced at his atrophied leg. He'd been lucky that he was able to hide his disease. The doctor who gave him the names of all the odd diseases had told him it wasn't likely he'd live to reach thirty, maybe even twenty-there must be something to the island messing with babies' "genetics" or something to cause so many diseased children. So be it. At least he could take the government that had done this to him down with him.

But he didn't see anyone board the planes, much less children, and a few hours later they flew back on autopilot. Maybe if he hurried, he could pick the Innocent he'd convince to join Anarchy this time. The fourteen year old Asian kid he saw earlier, maybe. He was on the lists of who they wanted. You can't judge by age. Luca himself was proof of that.

Logan Lienal
Inmate

The buses trundled along the street to jeers and catcalls. It was how everyone welcomed the Innocents. Not that they would be innocent for long, but the Government liked to make them feel safe, with the watch, and all its little gadgets. It wasn't much to just cut the person's hand off. Then you didn't have any problems with it. I watched the Innocents file into the high rise, then back out again, fewer, and a little worse for wear. The air was tense, the lovely lovely tense which comes before someone else's pain. A girl lead a kid with crutches down a side alley, and the coppery fragrance of fresh blood filled the air. An easy, unsatisfying death. With a tsk, I turned my attention back to the group below. A young woman, evidently slightly peeved, was buzzing her way through the crowd. A harder prey? I noted down her features in my mind: the same skin as the French, which tore so easily, and short hair like mine. I flinched slightly as a blast of sound and images snapped through my brain.

An American name, definitely, an Innocent maybe? Her hands rest on top of a stack of papers. I'm looking straight at a face of empty features by it isn't my eyes staring.
"...so... help?" The image swirled then clicked back as words spilled from my mouth of their own will.

"I'll try. ....guarantee." The papers appear in front of me and there are faces faces faces faces faces...

I shrieked a growl and threw my feet towards the ground. The impact jarred my ankles, but the slight pain brought me back. The floating lethargy dissipated too. Dahlia, what did you do? She couldn't reply, wouldn't ever reply. I was the one who spoke to her, those years ago, not the opposite. But she still did things of her own will. And I needed to find out what. And for whom. And to stay away from any damned Seriums.

As I thought about how they - who was 'they' and how had they known? - had managed to convince Dahlia, a boy stalked past, a flicker of colour and I almost gutted him where he walked. "It's your own fault. It's not going to end soon." The fists hid the shaking of my hands, already gripped around my knife. They were dead. So dead no one recognised them, but dead. The boy was just the same age. I could've sworn I'd seen him before, but then I had seen most people before. Most people fell under the ongoing hunt category anyway. He walked with a well hidden limp that made seem stronger but oh so much weaker. He had the mark of an Inmate about him.

I swallowed the tang that had risen in my throat. Innocents were the starter. Inmates were the main course and the dessert. It was harder to make them scream. Safer to enjoy it. The Enforcers sometimes took killing Innocents for mercy. Although my ''mercy" made sure they were far away.

I flicked my gaze across to the high rise. The crowd had almost dissipated, everything that could be stolen had been. Several Innocents littered the floor, a couple of Inmates. That laser was lethal in some places. Maybe some of the new Innocents knew what they were doing. Last year had been a veritable bloodbath for everyone to participate in. Some of the Innocents had even turned out to be particularly good adapters to Inmate life.

I took a deep breath of coppery air and strode down the street, humming a little. It could be an interesting few weeks indeed. There were enough young ones to last that long.

Steph Curry

Inmate

2 Days Before the Arrival...

I slowly come to my senses. My vision is blurry, but it soon fades. I'm in a room with solid stainless steel walls, and one table in the center that I am seated at. How did I get here? I tried to move,but I was too weak even to move my arms. So I sat there for around 5 minutes, just looking around the room. Suddenly, the door swings wide open, and a man walks in, the door slamming behind him with a boom.

"Good afternoon sleepy head. Glad to see you finally came around." He was a clean shaven man in his mid 30's by the look of it. He was wearing a black suit with matching black sunglasses. He pulled out the other chair at the other end of the table. Before he sat down, he walked over to me and stuck a needle in my arm. "Now, before I push the stopper, if you try anything, you will be shot. There are two men behind you that you can't see because you can't move that far. Show him you're real boys." Two men stepped out from behind me, both wielding assault rifles. I started to race through all the people I owed, but none of them could pack this much firepower. He pushed the stopper on the syringe, and I felt my strength flood back into me.

"Who are you?" I chocked out.

"Me? No, you first." He pulled a briefcase up onto the table and opened it. He pulled out a manilla file and place it on the desk. "Stephen Curry. 27 years old. Born and raised in Oakland. Graduated high school on the honor roll, before enlisting. Top of your class in army training, and top 5 in ranger training. But then 3 years later. 5 counts of first degree murder, and 1 of vigilantism. It's a shame. You had so much potential." He cocked a smile.

"Good job. Anyone can find my file." I said. "What do you want from me?"

"Ah, now were talking," the man said. He reached back into his suitcase and dropped two more files on the table. "Go ahead, take a look." I reached over and opened them. The first one was for a boy named Ale Caruso. He was from Italy, and was a businessman. It had a picture enclosed, and a brief description on him I pretended to read. The other was for a girl. Alejandra Ibarra from Mexico. Same thing, picture enclosed and a short description. I looked at the man.

"So what? I don't know these people. They're not important to me." The man smiled again.

"Stephen, they may not be important to you, but they are very important to us. You are going to protect them, make sure they stay alive." I scoffed at him.

"Says who? I don't have to do anything."

"Oh, but you do Stephen," he said. "We are very powerful, and very resourceful. We will make it much worth your time. Plus, if you do not comply, we will kill you. Consider this a down payment." He snapped his fingers, and one of the men behind me removed the ammo from his rifle and placed the gun in my hands. "Military grade M16 with a holographic scope. Is this not the rifle you trained with?"

"It is," I said. I was forced to hide a smile. It had been so long since I held a firearm, most of the people here used knives or pointy sticks.

"Comply, and you will find this gun and plentiful ammo at your house upon your arrival. And this is just the start. Protecting these two is just a test, to make sure you can do what we say. Now, of course we don't want you abandoning us, so take this," one of the other men slapped a watch on my wrist. I'd seen it before, it was one of those watches with lasers and other helpful tools on it. "This watch has a tracking beacon in it so we can watch you. One that you cannot remove. It also has enough explosives in it to blow you to pieces if you do anything wrong."

"Great," was all I could say.

"Now, when you return home, you will find the rifle, ammo, tasers for them, and a tracking device that has their government trackers programmed so you can find them. Do not let us down Mr. Curry." At that moment I felt another syringe stick into my neck, and I was out again.

***

Day of the arrival:

The sun was shining and what birds lived on the island were chirping the day of the arrival. For the birds, they didn't have a care in the world, unlike all of the other people below them, who lived every day in fear. Except for me. I didn't care what happened to me. I slowly awoke and managed to roll myself off of my bed. Game time. I quickly got dressed: regular workout shorts and a short sleeve, with a Kevlar vest underneath. Luckily the M16 came with a strap, which I flung over my shoulder, so I wouldn't have to carry it all day. I grabbed two extra mags, just in case,and pushed open the door to my house and set off.

I looked at the tracker for the two innocents I had to find. They seemed to be right near each other which was good; they were probably being tested. No need to rush. I decided to take the long way there. A young girl crossed my path, carrying her purse. I don't know what made me do it, but when she turned away from me, I raised my rifle and fired three times. Bang. Bang. Bang. A shudder went through me as I felt the recoil. I got the chills. It had been so long since I'd fired a rifle. The feeling was wonderful. The purse hit the ground, followed by her body, which had gone limp. She hit the ground like a rag doll, and laid still. Blood started to form under her, so I ran over and grabbed her purse,took what I could, which wasn't much, and was on my way.

By the time I reached the testing building, a half hour had passed. I looked down at my tracker. The girl seemed to be inside the building still, but the boy was gone, heading east. Not a good way to go. I cursed and headed out, watching all around me while I did. With a gun like mine, I was sure to grab attention of others, and they would want to take it. As if on cue, I heard footsteps coming up fast behind me, of a man running. I turned, and he had one of those electric spears, and he was charging at me. I dove to the ground, and he missed me. I could have fought him but I had a job to do. I fired two and killed him. Ale's signal kept moving which meant he was alive, which was good. I kept moving, until I found him.

I was right next to a one story bakery. His signal pinged in the alley right next to me. I stood on top of the wooden fence and jumped on top of the bakery roof. I headed towards where he was and looked in the alley. He was in the middle, with two guys on either side of him, closing in. I quickly dropped one, and dropped the other right after. Ale checked himself to make sure he hadn't been shot as I jumped down, not quite sticking the landing. "Ale Caruso?"

"Yeah? How do you know my name?" He replied,

"If you want to live, come with me." I checked my tracker. Alejandra had moved out of the building and was going west. Crap. I could tell Ale doubted me, but I had just saved his life. Plus I had a gun. So we left.

Innocent
Mahima Sankaran

Mahima sneezed, and sneezed again. She puckered and smacked her lips together, her mouth clammy. She wiped her sweaty hands on her long dark blue skirt, and plucked at her long sleeved top that sucked to her skin, moist with sweat. She flicked her long braid to the other side of her head. And sneezed once more.

So far, she was hating this tropical weather.

She watched out of the window, her eyes groggy and half lidded with the moisture in the air. The buses have stopped, and so did the sweet breeze that had been cooling her cheeks. There was a crowd gathered, peering and sneering at the wide frightened eyes that glanced about nervously out of the window of the buses. The Inmates' eager gazes spiked iron through her veins and she found herself sitting a little straighter, her eyebrows raising in an unspoken dare, and her mouth thinning into a silvery scar. One by one, the people on the bus filed out and into the open.

Mahima, along with the other Innocents, were herded like cattle into the one impressive building that stood like a pinnacle in the swarm of the sinning city. She craned her neck upwards, marveling at how high it reached, like a sharp, crisply cleaned knife thrusted towards the clouds. Once inside she was sectioned off until she found herself standing alone, the polished white hallway empty and gossiping the echos of her tapping feet so the other corridors could hear. A tall burly man stood watch near a sleek white door, and something cold dripped into her heart.

He did nothing but punch in a code and gesture to the door, which slid open with a pleasing whoosh sound, and Mahima stepped quickly inside without a word, her teeth grinding in her mouth at the presence of a man. When the door closed behind her, she realized she was alone once again, and that she should have been preparing herself for the 'testing' that all of the Innocents were submitted to.

She felt herself freeze, fear clamping her feet in place, as she turned sideways and caught sight of the elegantly crafted curve of its design, the dull beauty of its simplicity and color. It hovered a good height above her, flicking itself around casually as if imaginary fish were curiously bumping its sides, before its black eye found her and stilled. She only has time to break out of her reverie and throw herself to the side as the floating gun fired.

Mahima breathed in deeply after the exited the building. Her right leg smarted as she walked, a result of a bullet grazing her ever so slightly. Luckily her skirt must have billowed up in just the right amount of time that it didn't cut the fabric, and she was able to hide the small wound from the government officials. She refused to get put down like some measly dog just because of a little wound. Still, it was all pure luck, and she worried what would happen when she wasn't so fortunate.

Outside, her spine slapped into a stiff position. The Inmates were no longer lingering on the outskirts of her vision, waiting and sneering like stalking wolves, but were pressed in and wild, tearing into weak Innocents with long sticks and knives, pocketing everything they could get their hands on. On the bus, they had been watching them with their piercing gazes, but they had been kept at a distance by the officials. Now, it looked like it was feeding time.

Mahima glanced quickly around, looking for an escape route, gripping the worn dark green bag on her back. On a quick decision she darted to the left and moved as quickly as she could, switching between main streets and alleyways to make her route erratic. She had to get away from the main building, where there were likely the most Inmates. She tipped her head up, scanning for an empty- looking building that she could rest and come up with a plan in.

Imogen Trellis
Inmate

I fastened the watch onto my wrist, testing the laser. I pointed it at a window and it shattered. Good. I pulled my sleeve down to hide it, not wanting to attract attention. I see a girl, probably an inmate, who left the massacre. Although I feel like I could take her on I decide not to risk it. The island uses bricks over metal. Many people find it annoying, but for me it's a way to avoid danger. I grab the wall, gripping the edges of the bricks and pulling myself up.

I used to find climbing like this difficult, but with a lot of practice I've become something of an expert. I push off the wall, jumping to the other side of the narrow alley and pushing of with my feet. My fingers instinctively find spaces in the wall to grip, for a second, before I push off again. The last time I accessed I computer I found out that people used to do this for fun. It was called free running and people even did it professionally. I've become something of an expert, after years of practice and numerous broken bones. Anyway, I reach the top, gripping it and pulling myself up. I begin to run, jumping from roof to roof. Once I judge I'm far enough away I slow down, walking around a corner.

The building has a skylight, unusual here. I open it, flipping the catch that I've learnt how to find. I could smash it , but that would draw attention to me. I drop in through it. Inside the attic of the building there are old crates, which I dragged across the trapdoor to the rest of the house. I found this room a year ago and it became my sanctuary, a place no one else has found. I've brought in: blankets, cushions, candles in candle holders, torches, food - canned and packaged with the occasional piece of fresh fruit, bottles of water. And my precious books. The Lord of the Rings trilogy, a collection of Shakespeare's plays and the Hunger Games and Harry Potter series. Literature is a rarity here and I think I am one of the few people who possesses it.

I read for a while, by torchlight, but am unable to focus. I put down the book and write down my account of what happened today in my diary. I'm not sure why I continue to keep it. Maybe so that in a better future people will know what really happened here. Or maybe so that if someone reads it they'll know I'm not a monster; that everything I did I did to survive. Or maybe I just want what we all want; to be remembered.

I put down my diary and try to sleep. It's a cold night, but I'm better off than most people here: warm and as safe as you can get. Sometimes people live downstairs for a while, but I don't think anyone else has a permanent home. Still I sleep with my knife under my pillow and a torch close at hand. Sometime during the night I am woken by a noise, on the roof. I climb out and see a boy, maybe a year older than me. Definitely an innocent. I consider knifing him, but decide against it. I'm no murderer. Still I can't leave him out here to draw attention to me. "Come on in you idiot." I say, "Or do you want to get yourself killed?" I drop back in and wait for him to follow. It looks like I'm not going to get much sleep tonight.

Alden | Innocent


I focused on the ground where a wrapper laid and the girl's foot next to me bounced. My hands were sweating already and my quiffed hair was falling dead already disagreeing with the weather. I sighed and pushed it back to see that a boy by the side of the road, no older than 16, was in a large gang fight with a group of men much older than him. This is what life is like here.

The bus stopped and we all slowly started to pile out. The girl next to me was still shaking as she walked and I couldn't help to notice her tear stained cheeks. Thank god I haven't broken down yet.

"Any volunteers to go first?" A large man called out as our group stopped at a long hall way.

I looked around eager and slowly stepped forward trying to keep from throwing up. The man smiled and nudged me into the room and shut the door with a loud BANG.

I looked around the large room instantly feeling claustrophobic. I felt my hands shaking, then I heard a light whoosh.

A long spear had been flung out of the back wall and was now hurdling towards my head. I gasped and flung my self over it and strangled it to the ground surprised of my own sudden actions. I smiled a bit to only hear another whoosh and then a small knife come at my torso. I ducked down, grabbed the knife, and then threw it back into the wall. Next came a bow and arrows, trident, a large animated fist, and then lastly a machine gun.

I took found my self panting once the opened the doors and my head throbbing. I smiled still and felt my hands still shaking from my anxiety starting to check in.

What if that is what happens on a daily bases? What if I mess up? Who will be there to protect me?

I felt my self now gasping for air as my head exploded with thoughts. My feet moved with the man, but my mind stayed behind running wild.

"Hello? So you want the job or not?" A voice sounded waking me from passing out.

"S-sure," I stuttered back, embarrassed.

"Report to building 293, there you will get your house."

I nodded and started towards the main road. I started a slow jog and found building 293 without too much trouble to find I was a glove maker. I sighed and tried not to think of all the ways people could rob us just simply from choking me to death with a pair of leather gloves. Guess this is what life is now.

Sasha Volkov
Inmate

Arrival day has always amused me. My people mill about the streets, waiting to greet the next bus with jeers and taunts to those within. If one were to stand on top of a tall building, they would look like colorful vultures surrounding their latest prey. But the Innocents are something to see. The hope in their eyes as they step off the vehicle into their new home quickly fades as the weeks pass. While they were fearless in the beginning, they soon learn to fear all of us. Here on Subversion, no one is safe.

They don't understand that now. But they will.

On this Arrival Day, I am a part of the crowd, nothing more. I do not open my mouth, I just watch. Many of them look hardy enough to last, but others will not be so lucky. They walk quickly, some staring at us openly and others ignoring us completely. I do not like the staring, and I know the others will not appreciate it either. And I am right. The minute some Inmates catch sight of some starers straggling and becoming separate from the group, they attack.

I just sit back and watch like always. There is nothing I can do. Much is the same. But then, much is different.

Anarchy.

A few days ago, I had no idea a group like this even existed. I doubt that many people do. It started with a box on my doorstep. No address, no witness, no nothing. I didn't know who it came from, but apparently the person who sent it knows me.

In the box was a file. My file. It contained everything that anyone could ever want to know about me. My birth certificate, medical records, what little school records I did have, and most importantly, my criminal records.

I may not have had much of an education, but I do know how to read in my mother tongue.

Zashchitite mladentsev .

I my uvidim, chto my mozhem sdelat' dlya vas.

~anarkhiya

Protect the Innocents.

And we will see what we can do for you.

~Anarchy

I still didn't know what I was going to do. With no way to respond to these people, I was unsure of what would happen next.

I was still standing in the street, even though by now many others had left and there wasn't an Innocent left in sight. Well, there wasn't a live Innocent anywhere I could see.

Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I turned around and began to make my way silently home. It was only about a mile away from the testing facility, and I never minded the walk. Not even with all the idiots drunk on moonshine jeering at me in a manner far different than the way they had jeered at the Innocents. It was easy to ignore them.

When I reached my door I glanced around, just to be sure. In a place like this, anything is possible, good or bad. I don't know how many of our former residents had died being stupid when they were trying to unlock their doors. I was not going to be that foolish.

No one jumped me, this time. That didn't mean that I was going to let my guard down. I unlocked the door slowly, punching in the key-code that only I knew. The lock released with a small hiss and I was stepping inside a moment later. My movements were quick, I was, as the Americans say, a 'woman on a mission'.

I closed and locked all the windows before stepping into the kitchen and opening the pantry doors. Reaching to the right wall, I slipped my fingers into the crack and gently pulled a drawer open. My sister would have called me paranoid with all the precautions I take, but here on this hellish land you can never be too careful. In the drawer was another security keypad, into which I typed a different code.

The shelves drew back into the wall to reveal a ladder, and I stepped down it quickly. There were no lights in this secret room, only candles. I lit them and then stepped back to view my creation. Raised garden beds rested on the concrete floor, all containing food that was considered 'illegal'. Food that could get me killed. Food that could feed many people. Many innocent people.

"You are wanting of my help?" I whispered. "You have it."

"Come on you idiot. Or do you want to get killed?" Someone asked. When I turned to look, it was a girl. "Where are we going?" I ask. "Just follow.' The girl said to me. "Can I at least have a name?" I ask. She stops midwalk "Imogen. Not that it matters." Was her reply. I sighed. She definitely had to be an inmate, but I didn't bother asking.

"I'm Kaleb." I tell her. "Does it look like I care who you are?" She asked. I shook my head No and her response was,"exactly." I sort of chuckled but not loud enough to be heard. We finally got to a big building, by the looks of it, there are many many inmates here. But when we walked in, well it was completely people empty. "You stay by yourself?" I asked. "Yeah." She replied.

I looked around at this big building. She had some stuff but not exactly a lot. "How is it out here?" I ask her.

"Dangerous," she said, "now please quit asking so many questions."

I nod and sit down on a small couch. It was quite comfy in here. My eyes couldn't stop wondering. "Maybe I should go look around outside." I say. She shrugs. "Suit yourself. But I warned you, it is definitely dangerous, especially for y'all innocents." She said.

I shrug. Maybe I'll stay awhile. "Can you tell me about your life here?" I ask.

Innocent
Ying-Zhu Fong

Buses did not make Ying-Zhu sick. They couldn't, not for someone who lived on a tiny, overpopulated island metropolis. Buses were pretty much the only transportation anyone used. So clearly it was not the bus, but the situation at hand that made Ying-Zhu's stomach churn.

Trying to comfort himself with trivia, Ying-Zhu attempted to remember the last time a Taiwanese had been picked as and innocent. Probably 2035, the year with 2,000 innocents. It did not help him in the slightest, and no way would he look out the window. Even a small sanitation issue would make him wish he'd never been born.

Eventually, the bus halted. There was no lurch, or squeal, or anything to denote the backwardsness of this society. Ying-Zhu stood in his seat and watched as the innocents in front of him filed out. Something acrid tickled his nose, and Ying-Zhue recognized it as cigar smoke. Funny that he did, given that the last person he'd seen smoking was his A-Gong, and the old patriarch had been arrested the next day.

Ying-Zhu followed the rest of the crowd off the bus and gawked openly at the building in front of them. It wasn't particularly big, not compared to the skyscrapers of Taipei, but in this jungle of one or two-story buildings, it seemed gigantic. Not only that, but it was black, all black. Even the windows. It was fear-inspiring, if nothing else.

Once inside, an equally fear-inspiring man greeted Ying-Zhu's group. He did not say hello, or try to be the slightest bit encouraging. All he said was, "Any volunteers to go first?" before eyeing the group like it was a fat pig that he wanted to slaughter.

An American boy, not much older than Ying-Zhu, stepped forward. Ying-Zhu was not sure whether this American was as stupidly brave as he'd heard Americans were, or if the boy just wanted to get things over with. After the boy had left though, Ying-Zhu wondered if he should have gone first; the suspense of waiting was enough to kill him.

Dreading the task before him, Ying-Zhu volunteered to go second. It wasn't so bad, just a few questions about what he'd done before his luck-of-the-draw ticket to this island. At the end, the intimidating man questioning him stared Ying-Zhu straight in the eye.

"If you don't think you'll make it out there, we can do it painlessly for you right now," he said in English.

Careful to keep his head held high, Ying-Zhu weighed his options. Given the outcome of the first criminal island, (Australia) he might actually have luck staying alive here. On the other hand, rumor said that Reunion was not nearly as lawful as Australia had been. Ying-Zhu shrugged and replied in Chinese. "I'll risk it."

"'Scuse me?"

Rolling his eyes, Ying-Zhu repeated himself in English. What kind of organization was this if no one spoke more than just English?

"Don't be such a twit," the man said, pulling Ying-Zhu to his feet. They continued through the building, Ying-Zhu picking unsuccessfully at the hands gripping his shirt collar. Then, they stopped at a door.

"I forgot to mention that you'll be a factory worker," the man said. He did not even look at Ying-Zhu. "You Taiwanese seem suited for repetitive action. You'll report to building 945 on Sinew Street. Got it?"

Ying-Zhu muttered about the fact that no Taiwanese had been a factory worker since they rejoined with China all those years ago, but he nodded nonetheless.

"I hope you enjoy dogdeball," the man said. Then he cackled and shoved Ying-Zhu through the doors before them.

I watch him suspiciously, "I thought all you innocents think we're less human than you. Why would you care." Deciding that it can't hurt anything, although I'll almost certainly regret this later, I decide to tell him a bit about myself. "Well, I'm Imogen, I'm 17 and I've been here for 3 years, ever since I murdered my asshole dad." I smirk as I continue, "I also happen to possess some of the only literature here. Touch it and I'll remove your hands." I pass my knife from hand to hand, to emphasise the point, before putting it down and tossing him a packet of food and a water bottle.

I then chuck him some blankets and cushions. "You can sleep over there." I point to the opposite side if the room. "I don't like visitors, they generally try to cut your throat while you sleep, however as you're an innocent I doubt I have anything to worry about." He looks worried, "How can I trust you?"

Poor, naive boy. He won't last long without some help. And as my conscience will kill me from guilt if I don't, there's really no other choice. "Rule one, you can't. Just accept the fact that if I wanted to kill you you'd be lying in a pool of your own blood right now. Also feel free to leave at any time. Have fun dying. Even your innocent friends will either change or die. It's amazing how brutal people become when they get the chance. Now if you're not going to leave, try and get some sleep. You'll need it tomorrow."

Now I've given him enough advice to get him through the night I can go back to not liking visitors and ignore him. I pick up my diary and record what's happened tonight. I can feel his eyes on me. Probably surprised that I know how to write. I can't be bothered snapping at him about how I wasn't born here, so I continue ignoring him. I flip off the torch and lie down, to try and get a couple of hours sleep.