Vote, Enjoy.

Orange, the sky was a shade of orange.  The sun had just caressed the water; it wavered with the evaporating heat as it started on its journey below the sea. I glanced over at the flawless tanning body next to me.  Her flesh was a golden brown and her brunette hair gleamed in the sunlight—sparkling with the sea water from earlier in the day.  The straps on her pink swimsuit were unclipped and her bronze back beamed in the setting sun. 

Her face was pressed down in the white towel the hotel provided, her hair slightly over her face, shading it from the setting sun.  I could see her hair move up and down so slightly with her short breaths, I could tell with her hair’s constant up’s and down’s that she was sleeping, basking in the sun always made her drowsy.

I was tempted to slip off to the sea and fill one of the children’s sand toys from the couple that was here earlier with water and drip cool liquid down her back.  We should be enjoying ourselves, not dozing off.  There was a party tonight, there was no time for sleep, but I felt shaking her awake wasn’t right for the moment. 

I ran down to the ocean picking up a toy but once my feet touched the cool water I decided against the water idea, it was cruel and she wouldn’t appreciate that.  Instead I walked back up to her and replaced the sand castle toy in the pile with the rest of the sand toys.  I went to lie back down next to her on her towel and pushed my freshly shaved face close to hers.

I was indeed a lucky man, no doubt—someone as perfect as her shouldn’t be possible. Her eyes gently opened and looked into mine.  I brushed her hair out of her face, it felt so soft.  The ocean does wonders to your hair.  Red.  It caught my breath, I pulled away—wait—her eyes shouldn’t be red, they should be brown.  She smiled; her smile always filled my heart with a warm flowery feeling, like butterflies filled my insides. Then she opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was white static, white clouds, white squares.

Her body’s golden tan went pale; her facial features became blurry to my memory.  Every detail around me, the orange sunset, the teal water, the white sand slowly grayed, replaced by a gloomy white fog.  I wasn’t able to see her again, my perfect girl.  It was only the fog, thick and white and square.

Grinding.  Metal against metal. A low hum. I felt something cold against my flesh.  Awake.  Where was I?  Some sort of metallic smell—rust, iron, something, it wasn’t pleasing.  My hands were bound; I wasn’t on the beach anymore.  I was locked in some sort of chilled cell.  I tried to get up but my hands were bound against something—I was strapped to some sort of metal bed.  And to think, I thought I was over this stupid being strapped to a bed thing, yet here it was all over again, and it was not nearly as comfortable as the first time, at least the first time had a mattress and sheets.

A loud hissing jolted me entirely awake, the dream long gone.  The entire ship I was in jolted to a sudden halt and the door to the room I was in slipped open.  I was sprawled across the ground, only my bound hands to keep me from flying off into some wall with the raggedy ship.  “Take him onto the station,” someone said.

I was un-cuffed, lifted away from the steel bed, and put onto my feet.  Unclipped from the bed but still bound my entire body felt lighter than it should.  Each step had a bounce to it.  I was in space, I knew it, just felt it within, why else would I be suddenly so light?  I was led through the halls of the ship, and due to the fact that I had to walk for an awfully long time, probably onto some space station.  Turn after turn, it was a maze of steel, and I was being led through it.

Dark creatures dwelled in the walls of the maze, threatening to destroy me and whatever light I dared to bring with me. The metal had a blue color to it.  Rust often enveloped the corners where the walls met the grate flooring.  Red eyes shined at me from dark dead ends, beckoning for me to dare make a mistake and steer off of the correct path.  But I was no fool, my handlers knew the right path, they knew the correct path through the desolate station.

Each time I crossed a dead end the red eyes groaned, sad their newest meal went down the right path. I looked around, windows scattered the hall, I was able to glance through them to see only the stars beyond, the Earth was too far to see.  Instead I saw some strange purple planet. It wasn’t the one I came from for the planet below was abandoned, the clouds of acid that were its atmosphere created something only pretty to look at—nothing more and nothing less. 

On the outskirts of the planet’s atmosphere were blue bands of gas that tried to escape into space but somehow couldn’t quite make it.  The two yellow and green moons that circled the purple planet simply added to its beauty, the station was placed on prime real estate.  Who wouldn’t want such a wonderful sight out of their window every single day?  It makes you just want to sit there and look at it for hours, for days, for years.

But I couldn’t see the planet, its moons or its circling gas for long.  I was pulled away from the outer edges of the maze and back into its heart, I didn’t know where they were taking me or why, but I knew it mustn’t be for good.

“Put him in breeding hold twenty-eight,” I heard a voice, breaking my concentration.

I was moved a little further and lifted up; a large clamp was attached to my arms and then my legs, holding me up in the air.  “What are you doing? Where am I?” my voice box spoke out, finally realizing I was in a dire situation.

“Underground, we’re going to breed you all to death. Long Live GaFlanza!” wow, well then, if I was meant to die at least being ‘bred to death’ wasn’t one of the worst things that could happen.  I mean there could be worse, stabbing, poison, starvation, etcetera, etcetera.  But being sexed to death—well then, that was different, oddly, I don’t mind as much as I should.

I heard screams from next to me.  Maybe hold twenty-five or twenty-four, and I tell you they weren’t sex screams, they were screams of terror.  I heard someone growl, then something cutting through bone, then something drop and hit the ground—a salty smell filled my nostrils—blood. The thing that fell on the ground started tinkering on the grate, as if it was moving on its own, as if it wasn’t dead.

“Joustion! Don’t cut off so much at once!  Small chunks only.  We need to get as much as possible from each of them,” the leader guy in front of me hollered towards the salty smell.

I suddenly had some second thoughts about the being ‘bred to death’, I had a sudden urge to find out what exactly this ‘breeding’ entailed, so I asked, “What’s breeding?” to the guy who I hoped was still in front of me, preferably without some sort of sharp object of his choice.

The man, who thankfully was still in front of me and without any sharp object responded, “Man, you must live one of those disgusting sheltered terrorist lives.  Pal, my buddies are going to get angry, real angry, then they’re going to chop you up, slowly piece by piece, finger by finger, toe by toe, till you bleed out.  Then we’re going to take those thousands of little pieces, wait for them to grow and raise them as our personal army to destroy your poor little country.  And there ain’t nothing you can do about it.”

I no longer liked the idea of being bred to death, “Wait, wait,” I pled, “Look I’m not from around here, I don’t think that works on me, cutting me up won’t do you a darn thing!”  I was too young to die, way too young.

Everything was quiet, he was thinking, “You do look different.” YES! I do! “I just assumed you were some kind of albino Doctorates Clan member, never grew your hair or something,” was it really that bad? “I’ll try something small, a finger,” but, but I didn’t like that idea! I had just grown most of them back, somehow!  I didn’t want to be missing another finger!

“Can’t you just trust me?” I asked.  The response was the sound of scraping two blades across each other.  Guess not.

“Cause you look different, I’ll do you a favor.”  Oh, a favor, maybe he won’t cut a finger off.  He grabbed my metal belt, more respectively the machine on my metal belt.  The breather stopped, I gasped for air, but none would come.  I really hated how this stupid machine had a ‘turn off’ switch.  Why in the fuck did I need an off switch?

Nothing.  Nothing… nothing.  Stillness.  Peace.  End.