Last week, Medlow Staur found himself stuck between a rock and a hard place. Will Medlow get out of the warehouse in time before the radiation storm hits? Find out in this weeks #WednesdayReads!
I kicked out the grate and dropped down to the floor unleashing fury on the fascists. Unfortunately for me, I let my anger get the better of me and while I was giving a few extra taps to the two sexist pigs in the back of the group, a blast of energy like I never felt before hit me.
I dropped my guns as I fell to the floor. It felt like every nerve in my being was on fire. Walking towards me with a very large energy rifle, came Niranda. I didn’t recognize it, but it looked expensive. I was puzzled about how a bankrupt, near desolate planet could afford such fancy hardware. Niranda was a real piece of work. Not only was she tough as nails and equally arrogant and mean, she was fake too. She grew up with nothing, got married to a wealthy businessman and all of a sudden she was better than everybody else. She acted like she had never been poor and forgot the struggles she grew up with.
She developed a planet sized sense of entitlement and that everyone with less money than her was beneath her. She was one that liked to boast about how much money her and her husband had. She also liked to throw it in people’s faces that her house was fancier than everyone else’s. Also, let’s not forget, that her possessions were more expensive and valuable than anyone else’s. Even though they weren’t and most of those ancient heirlooms were mostly fakes.
She stormed around wherever she went and commanded that everyone must stop what they’re doing to accommodate her and that rules should be changed to benefit her. Her husband, Mylo Kanalratte, on the other hand was another piece of work entirely.
He was a horrible person that cheated on her constantly. He’d hang out at high school events scoping out girls he felt were vulnerable and would be easy prey. He lobbied very hard to have our age of consent law repealed. Fortunately, saner voices prevailed and the age of consent law remained in place. Everyone turned a blind eye towards his behavior unless the girl was underage. Then, they made him make a public confession in front of the congregation, make a hefty donation to the church and then they’d forgive him.
It was disgusting the way things were run on Quinthos! The authorities and legal system always took the male’s side and said that any women who were beaten or sexually assaulted must have done something to provoke or entice the male that assaulted them. Rapes are never prosecuted unless the father or male relatives are rich and well connected. Of course, instead of just a public confession in church and paying the church, they have to pay the father or male relatives of the girl too.
Niranda puts up with it because knows if she divorces Mylo, she’ll be left with nothing. She’s so scared to death of being poor again she’ll accept anything he does or tells her to do. He’s a massive control freak that never lets her out of his sight. He makes her wear jewelry that tracks her movements and records audio and video. She knows what it does and still willingly wears it. Even though he knows where she is at all times, he still accuses her of cheating on him and they have blow out fights.
“You flinking traitor!” Niranda yells as she spits on me.
“Thanks,” I said to her. “The sex workers I hire charge me extra for spitting on me. Glad you’re giving it to me for free.”
When she kicked me in the nuts I knew that I had ticked her off. But I needed to get her even angrier. When she gets too angry, she loses focus, and that could turn the tide in my favor. I also needed to keep her from kicking me in the nuts again. I was able to bring my knees up to my crotch without the fiery nerve pain. The effects of whatever kind of beam she hit me with seemed to be short lived.
“I know your shithead husband, Mylo, is watching this in real time. Probably has your daughter’s best friend sucking his dick right now too. We both know he likes ’em underage.”
She roared with anger and started to attack me. Thankfully the pain had passed and I was able to counter her attacks. I don’t believe in hitting women, so I used Andromedan Aikido to try and take her down. Just as I thought I had her, she slipped a collar around my neck that gave me a jolt hard enough to knock me back a few feet. I recognized that shock and the collar. I had to stop myself from smiling. I immediately fell to my knees, pretending like I was in intense pain and hoped my acting was good enough to fool her.
“The Punisher 2557, used to keep slaves under control on Planet K. Unbreakable disciplinary tool, for even the most stubborn species. Even comes with a remote you can customize with different color cases,” she said as waved the remote in front of me.
“Those two idiots thought they’d get all the glory bringing you in. Now the glory is all mine. President Grifterson will be very pleased with me for bringing you to him.”
“Grifterson is president now? That illiterate, childish, fascist baboon? You flinks sure must have scraped the bottom of the barrel when it came to choosing a puppet. Did the Armaments Guild order it to happen or did the Business Guild do it?”
She raised the remote and pressed the button and I tried to be convincing that the shock collar was hurting me.
“He is a great man and he does a lot for us,” Niranda scolded me.
“Great?! At what?!” I demanded. “Being a bigot? Creating ties with organized crime? Going bankrupt? Seriously, you want to get in good with him, why don’t you just let him grab you by the kitty? That’d be a whole hell of a lot easier and besides, at least you’d have someone grabbing you down there. Hopefully Grifterson likes cobwebs.”
Niranda screamed at me and started pushing the button on the remote again and again. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The look of anger and frustration on her face was so hilarious, I just burst out laughing.
The more and louder she screams, “What the flink is so funny?!” the harder I laugh. I finally stop and pull myself into a sitting position on the ground. Looking at her I ask,
“You never read about what happened on Planet K, did you?”
“I don’t read,” she says.
“You don’t read?” I was both stunned and annoyed. Humanity keeps going through these whole “Education Last” phases! People shun knowledge and anything even remotely educational. Being smart is looked down upon and people make idols of people whose behavior dumbs humanity down.
What usually ends up happening is the government puts a rich person with no idea of how education works in charge. They make a complete mess and make it harder to get an education. They always slash funding to everything but private schools that they have a financial interest in. The most disastrous Education Last phase was in the United States of America during Earth’s early twenty-first century. It took decades to repair the damage it caused!
“How do you get your information?” I asked.
“Quintax News!” she exclaims with exasperation. “They tell us everything we need to know! Everything else out there is fake news!”
“Oh really?” I ask her. “Let me tell you about the collar you placed around my neck. These collars don’t really shock that bad. The first jolt is a bitch and knocks you on your ass. That’s to make the slave master think the collar works. Starting with the second shock it’s barely noticeable. It all depends on the acting ability of the person wearing the collar. If you can’t act and pretend you’re in intense pain, the game is up and the master will know something is up.
A group of abolitionist merchants built them and tricked slave owners into buying them. They did this in order to help slaves who wanted to revolt against their masters. They’ve worked great on thousands of worlds, freeing billions of enslaved people. They’ve been mentioned in history books for hundreds of years. But of course, you don’t read or nothing.”
She looked uneasy now. She asked me how the collars aided in slave revolts. The fear in her voice was palpable.
“What happens is there’s a preprogrammed word that’s spoken by the slave. The collar flies off the slave’s neck and wraps itself around the master’s neck and explodes, killing them instantly,” I said with a grin.
“How do you know if what you read is really true or not?” she asked.
“Who do you think delivered this style of collar to Planet K?” I asked.
Outright terror covered her face as she grasped the truth. She looked at the remote as I said the code word,
It only took an instant for the collar to fly from me to her and explode, killing her. Picking up my guns from where I dropped them, I managed to get to the door that would lead me to safety. It was then that I heard something metallic drop on the ground behind me. Being in no mood to continue fighting, I turned my head and said,
“Whoever you are, turn around and go back the way you came. I’m not in the mood for any more fascist shit.”
“Yeah, you go ahead and run like you always do, you pansy ass dipshit.”
It was Cred. He stumbled as he bent down to pick up the metallic object from the floor. I could see it was Six’s head.
“We paid good money for that flinking robot. It was the best of the best and it turned out to be a sissy traitor like you!”
“Shouldn’t you be dead?” I asked.
“I got clipped once or twice. Myngo actually made a good shield until the rest of the boys came in and took out your bot,” answered Cred. I wasn’t surprised that Cred sacrificed Myngo. Cred never cared for anyone he flinked. But Cred was also a liar too. If he and the others took out Six, as evidenced by him holding Six’s head, why was he down here alone?
“Considering that it’s just you down here and I just killed five of your scumbag friends; Six must have really kicked your team’s ass.”
Cred staggered towards me with a look of hate in his eyes. I was sick of this. Yeah, I could have shot him, but he was unarmed. I don’t believe in shooting unarmed beings, even if they really deserve it.
I turn around and started putting in the combination to unlock the door. Calling out to him I say,
“I’m too tired to fight with glargholes. I’m going home.”
“You know, I did tell you the truth. We wanted you to come back to Quinthos so we could use you for target practice. I shouldn’t have brought Myngo, though. He really was still in love you,” began Cred.
“He kept trying to convince me to talk you into coming back with us. Fight the good fight and what not. He’s irritating as flink but he’s good in bed. I just brought him to help me relieve some tension, if you get my meaning. I’ve never seen anyone affect Myngo as strongly as you did. He was heartbroken when you left. I knew it was a lost cause though. You kind of people are all kinds of flinked in the head.”
I stopped and stood there, not moving as the door slid open. I was mad. Not because of what he was saying about Myngo. I was glad Myngo was dead. I stopped because I needed to. I needed him to say something to piss me off. I needed to get my revenge on him for all the mental and physical abuse he put me through. I turned around and gripped my guns tightly in my hands.
“You kind of people?” I asked.
“Switch hitters. The kind of mentally ill morons who can’t decide what team they’re playing for. Putrid, disease carrying, overly promiscuous trash. You’d flink anybody, anytime, anywhere! If you attention whores don’t pick a side, you should be locked away and nuked! We don’t need pervs like you around no more,” he said.
He got me so angry I did something I never did before. I dropped my guns and blindly charged at the son of a bitch. He yelped, dropped Six’s head and tried to run like a typical, cowardly bully. I grabbed him, threw him to the ground, and beat him down worse than he had ever beaten me. I lost track of how long I was beating him, it felt like hours. I didn’t want to stop beating him but I started feeling weak. I know it wasn’t because of the previous beatings or the shot from Niranda’s rifle. The radiation was seeping through the shields and I needed to go. Grabbing his collar from the front I yelled,
“And this is for Six!”
I slammed his head into the floor six times in a row, as hard as I could. I got up, kicked him in the ribs and screamed at him. Picking up my guns and Six’s head from where Cred dropped it, I went through the door and closed it behind me. I scrambled the lock so no one could open it, just in case any more of that fascist trash survived. I managed to make it out of the tunnel and into the next building without passing out. Lucky for me, it was a store house for medical supplies. I quickly found a first aid kit with anti-radiation drugs inside. Thankfully, they were fast acting and I was up on my feet as best as I could be under the circumstances. You don’t take the beatings I took today and skip your way home, you know?
I made my way up to street level and exited the building. Once outside I hailed a passing passenger pod. I instructed it to take me back to the docking bay where my ship was berthed. As I sat there staring at Six’s head I thought to myself that the rest of my stay here better be uneventful.
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The Last Corpse on the Left ©2017
All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names and persons in this eBook are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or places, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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