For those few hours of rest, Alesha's dreams were plagued by cruel and horrific nightmares.
Twisted abominations, constructed from a crude mixture of steel of machine and flesh of man, lumbered out of the dark veil, stabbing and poking and prodding at Alesha with their claws, their drills, their knives and their needles. She could not stop them for she was pinned to the spot by an unknown force. She could not scream as her mouth was sealed shut under the influence of that same force. She could only watch, eyes bulging in her sockets, as they tore apart her body like a pack of wild dogs on a carcass. One of the knives slipped into her upper-arm, where it began to scale downward, slicing through every sinew with the ease of cutting into cake. Whether Alesha felt it or not, she could not say, because the pain seemed to be secondary in her mind. She could not tear her eyes away from the creature's as it continued to chop off her flesh. Her skin was torn away in strips, layer after layer, as the pure muscle underneath was gradually revealed. Where she'd expected blood, Alesha instead saw wires, millions of electrical wires, piling out in droves, flopping uselessly from the wounds. The strange creature smiled, but Alesha could have sworn she'd blinked at the wrong time, because its grin almost seemed rueful toward her. Its eyes, deeper and darker than the blackest stove, were actually casting her its pity.
The other monsters, however, did not share in their fellow's sentiments. One of them took hold of the bundle of wires and tore them out with one fast tug, causing a blackish liquid to dribble down Alesha's arm, before it quickly subsided. The creature gave the wires a casual glance over before tossing them aside, and another appendage, a tail with a head, devoured them. Alesha could hardly see anymore. It was like the very essence of cold had seeped through her wounds, sinking inside of her, filling her, flowing through her every nerve, entering her throat, her lungs, her heart, the cold was etching itself into her soul. And then she realized what it was, why this chill was so salient to her. She was beginning to cease all functions. She was dying.
The monsters chopped away at her, without consideration or thought. They saw her as little more than a massive slab of meat, and she would be treated as such. Her skin was literally taking flight as the cyborgs hurled the worthless, pink chunks over their heads. She could barely hear, but the wet slap of her skin hitting the ground was audible enough. The cold was becoming unbearable, it was strangling her, filling her throat with ice. Her eyes were half-open, but she would glance over at the apparent head of this mob to see the same, remorseful expression every time. It made her want to stab it in the throat, truth be told.
The wires and cables and internal workings of her body were gathering into heaps at her feet. Coils upon coils, black and dripping, nearly weighing ten pounds in all. It shouldn't have been wires, she thought. She was a human being, not some kind of machine. The monsters started to feast, while Alesha remained there, her body almost completely barren. All they had left was her face, and amidst the cold she could feel it peeling off, like molten candle wax. Her eyeballs were rolling their sockets, her nose sinking inward, her lips gaping like a dead fish's.
The monster with the sullen eyes reached out. Its fingers, each claw like a miniature dagger, sunk deeply into Alesha's forehead. They twisted half-clockwise and pulled out. Alesha's face crumbled apart on the tips of its fingertips. Before the cold finally enclosed around her and shut her off completely, she'd sworn she saw Galfe and Sullivan, their disappointed faces like ghastly visages hovering behind the dark...
Alesha opened her eyes to the sound of a fist pounding on wood. She sat up, cold drops of sweat rolling down her face and her arms. She wiped away at her face, only to find her hand wet as she pulled it back. She was completely drenched. Yet, she couldn't recall why. She dug deep into the recesses of her mind, as far as she could in her dizzied state, but she couldn't recall what she must have been dreaming to cause such a outrageous reaction from her body. Alesha wiped again at her face, but her hands were sticky with their own sweat, it was no help. She used the blanket to try and dry herself, but it felt like pushing her face into the fur of a musty, old cat.
The knock on the door came again. Deciding to give up completely on her sweat, Alesha scampered out of bed and opened it without a second thought.
The normal-looking man from before was standing there.
"...Hello." Alesha stared up at him. Dark-brown hair, a light fuzz above his upper lip, black eyes, thin eyebrows. When put up in contrast to people like Galfe, Sullivan and Nannah, he really did seem uniquely normal. Of course, for Alesha, that was simply another hint to keep wary. The man who'd killed her mother over a few slips of paper had looked 'normal' too. The outside sometimes gave away what was hidden within, but it was still the inside that made a person who they were.
The normal man gave Alesha a hard glare. "You're covered in sweat!"
"I woke up this way." it was the truth, and Alesha had no reason to lie.
"Is it a little too hot down here for you? Why don't we open a few windows? I'm sure that would help you out!"
Okay, so he's a bit of a sarcastic asshole Alesha thought. That was a start, at least. "No, thank you, I'm fine. Nannah had said someone named Yonah was supposed to come and pick me up, so-"
"Yep. I'm the guy. And you the girl?"
Alesha's head just barely bobbed. She wasn't able to get into this at all, with this man here. "I am."
Yonah hand shot out, faster than a whip, before Alesha could even react. His hand had grappled onto her left ear, and he was squeezing it.
"Ah...!" Alesha winced; he was gripping it hard enough to intentionally harm her. His thumbnail was digging into her ear-lope.
Yonah gave the young woman a long, hard look. Alesha wanted to slap his hand away, anything to get him to let go, but she feared he wouldn't hesitate to try and tear off the entire ear in retaliation. He was rubbing his thumb into her ear, scraping ever so lightly at the skin. Alesha had already been woken up in a pool of her own sweat with some indescribable and unexplained fear nestled deep inside of her heart. She didn't need to be harassed further, just when her life seemed to be turning around. Why couldn't Nannah have come to get her instead? Why did it have to be this asshole?
"You know I don't enjoy this. I really don't."
"W-What? Let go...please...let go..." Alesha had already made her decision, and it was a decision she would never recant. She absolutely, positively despised this sarcastic, normal-looking son of a bitch.
Yonah continued to stare her down. Not even Galfe's gaze had ever achieved such unbridled intensity. "Tell me something, little girl."
Alesha did not even blink. "...What is it?"
"The spilled blood of the past, the awoken strife, the deaths of the future...can you see them all through the gleam of your designer shades, you filthy little fop?"
"What?" Alesha could have sworn she was in another dream, and she wished she was, because this man in front of her right now was more insane than anyone out on the streets she'd met.
Yonah must have taken some notice of Alesha's reaction, because he soon was wearing the same face she was, albeit more for disappointment than fear and a total lack of understanding. "No...if you don't get it...then I guess you're still more like us than like them yet."
Yonah released the young woman's ear, ripping his hand away as if he'd just placed it upon a hot plate. Alesha rubbed her ear; it ached, but it appeared to be fine otherwise.
"Never mind. You coming or not? Galfe wants to talk to you, and his patience is starting to reach its limits. Ever since he found you he's been like that, probably because he thinks you'll be a big help. Eh, if you're not one of them yet," he emphasized the word 'them', "I guess you might be trustworthy. Better not keep 'em waiting."
Yonah and Alesha started moving with little more to say. It seemed to the teen that the business from before was not going to be properly explained or discussed by Yonah himself, which Alesha was not entirely displeased about, as she did not wish to exchange another word with him. She followed him and nothing more. The sooner she got out of this mad house and into the well-furnished mansion of a wealthy Utopion family, the better. In a few days, that would become her new reality.
"Ah! Hey! Alesha! There you are!" A familiar voice called. No surprise, it was Nannah, the only other person besides Galfe and Sullivan she'd met in this little rebellion as of yet. In fact, she was probably the only one besides them who would address her in such friendly terms.
"You're covered in sweat; what happened? You ruined all of the hard work I went to cleaning you off!" The older woman shook her head. Her luxuriant hair was bouncing and bobbing in time with her movements, like waves of red tentacles hanging from her head. At least she was still the same, when Alesha had woken up and faced Yonah, she thought she could have been in some parallel world all together. Nannah was proof that she wasn't. Underneath her left arm she carried a white box, and a brown box was secure with her right arm.
"I woke up this way." Alesha replied
"Hmm. Well, no matter, it isn't like you're not going to be taking another bath again later anyway." Nannah shrugged it off.
Her panic about another bath experience put aside for now, Alesha followed up by asking, "I want to ask you something about this man?"
"Is he really the right guy who was supposed to show up to my room?"
"Yes, he is." But then she saw the look on Alesha's face and let out a groan, "Oh, don't tell me he didn't...ah, dear, I'm so sorry, Alesha, I forgot to tell you, it had completely slipped my mind before. You see, Yonah is a little different from you and I. He ran into a band of Twitchers a few years back before we picked him up. They didn't kill him, but, eh...he didn't really escape with everything intact."
Alesha's eyes traveled to the back of Yonah's head. She could have sworn that, behind his hair, she caught the hint of a scar.
"So he isn't mentally well?"
Nannah shook her head again. "Not exactly."
"Then why...?" Alesha wished no ill will toward Nannah, she actually liked her in a similar vein to Sullivan, but she had never wanted to meet a man like Yonah in the first place, and now she had a throbbing ear to deal with as well.
"Alesha, I'm sorry. I'd wanted you to get to know the rest of the crew a little better, even though you won't be here long. I thought this would have been a good idea, I only told him to fetch you from your room and take you to Galfe. I didn't ask for anything more, believe me. Dammit...shit...what did he do, did he try to threaten you?"
Alesha tugged at her ear. "Sort of."
Nannah strode up behind Yonah and slapped him across the head, a clap loud enough to echo through the hallway. Yonah doubled over, his head tilting forward enough that he looked to fall flat on his nose, but it quickly snapped back into place, as if by some sort of pulled lever. He turned to look at Nannah. He spoke in such an apathetic tone of voice that it had a chilling effect, one which seemed to affect only Alesha.
"Were you harassing her? Bothering her again with your nonsense? Did you hurt her?"
"I didn't, so what're you...geez, woman..."
"I give you one simple job, and you muck it up. That girl is important to us! She's important to Galfe! If you tried to kill her-"
"I...I, what now? I never tried to kill anyone before! What're you talking about? I really look like the kind of guy who'd do that, right!" His normality was practically leaking out of him in front of the two women. Then again, he hardly had any normality left to begin with, in Alesha's opinion.
"If you hurt her, you're never going to hear the end of it! In fact, we might just have to punish you. Would you really want to take that chance?"
Yonah shuffled nervously on the spot.
"Then do your job, and keep yourself in line." Nannah scowled, but that scowl quickly reworked itself into a smile as she returned to Alesha, "Everything should be fine now."
"You're welcome. I'm going to need to see you again after your little meeting with Galfe, so it won't be long now! You're going to look so adorable in the dresses I whipped up for you!"
Yonah grumbled a few choice words under his breath, more than a few of them resembling rather specific swears delegated toward those of the female gender. He waved Alesha to come along, and she did, but still keeping the same amount of space between him and her at all times. She was a little happier thanks to Nannah's intervention.
Galfe embraced her the instant that the door shut closed behind her. She found her face being buried haphazardly into his bulking chest; he smelled faintly of apples and olive oil, for whatever reason. He ruffled his paw-like hand through her hair, thoroughly messing it to the point of inciting Nannah's rage, and slapped her with a hearty pat on the back before finally releasing. Alesha stumbled, but otherwise held her ground. She was starting to come to expect these sort of things from the ever-popular rebel leader.
"Yes, well, now that you're here and cleaned up, well-rested, whatnot, it's time that we begin to discuss a few very important things between you and I. You see...hm?" Galfe eyed Yonah for a moment. He was still standing behind Alesha since the two had entered the room.
"Huh?" The not-so-normal man raised his head. He had somehow managed to preoccupy himself with his fingernails for the past several minutes. Galfe's stare was like a block of cinder, it bore down on him.
"What are you still doing here?"
"Ah, uh, you know, I'm the most important guy here, so I should be the one to keep an eye on-"
"You're not needed here anymore. Thank you for bringing her, but your job is done. Return to your chamber."
Yonah started to stutter and sweat. His eyes nervously darted here and there but never stopped to look at anything. "I...uh, sorry, sir, I...I'm only trying to help, for the country's future..."
"I'll be the one to decide the country's future. You can wait until you're called on again."
Yonah may have been mentally handicapped by past traumas, but he seemed to understand well enough when he was beat. His head dripped low in defeat.
"Yes, sir." his pride gouged, murdered and left for dead, the normal-looking man chose to take his leader's offer of 'advice' and make himself scarce. Still, he did not entirely do it without displaying some obvious distaste; he made a show of dragging his feet as he marched to the door. He slipped through and shut it closed behind him. Galfe looked quite relieved.
"Sorry about that!" The way he could switch from emotion to emotion on the fly was amazing, it was like he had intentionally trained himself such a skill.
Alesha shook her head. "It's okay."
"Anyway, it's finally time, my dear Alesha, to give a proper explanation on our goals and yours," Galfe continued, "I'm sure you have been waiting for this. I apologize for having to postpone it for so long; I wanted to make sure I could put my absolute trust in you, because even if you did tell Sullivan that you were willing to join, and even though you wish to return me the favor for saving you from the Twitchers, that didn't necessarily mean you would accept our ethics and our beliefs and start fighting alongside us. Your cooperation had to be won. Anyone can say anything, but many in this rundown city will give up the instant they're asked to put their claims to the test. I didn't want to waste my time with someone who wasn't going to give it their all. It's for the sake of the rebellion, because most of us here have put everything, including our lives, on the line already."
Alesha admitted that it sounded like a reasonable conclusion, although Galfe oh so conveniently neglected to mention how he had managed to manipulate her into feeling obligation to join when they'd first met. In fact, from the way he had worded it, Alesha could have sworn that Galfe was claiming that Alesha had been the one to offer her services first, without any coercion involved. Alesha wasn't going to try and call him out on it. It was all water under the bridge now.
"Still, I was told that Nannah had already filled you in on a few things, am I correct?"
Alesha's eyes widened, her back and shoulders stiffened. Had someone overheard and ratted them out?
"Don't look so stressed; Nannah herself had admitted to it. She's terrible at keeping secrets from me."
'She couldn't even keep it a secret herself!' Alesha was amazed, but it didn't count toward any more feelings of admiration for the older woman.
Galfe shook his head. "I expect everyone to be honest with me at all times. If we don't allow people to speak their minds and come forth with issues that they're having, then how are we supposed to progress? How can we improve ourselves and our lives? We need to do everything we can to be better than the totalitarian dictatorship that runs this country from inside Utopion's walls."
Alesha didn't have anything she could say, so she just nodded to convey she understood.
"So, putting all of that aside, some of the things I'm about to tell you were already relayed by Nannah, but nonetheless, it never hurts to hear things twice. You're going to be adopted by the family of a very nice man named Tanner Rolock. We have some certification that he's trustworthy and that he won't attempt to harm you," Galfe gave Alesha a look-over, as if to really make sure for certain that she wouldn't be subjected to potential sexual abuse, "He is also quite important to our cause, as a matter of fact. We may only be able to obtain limited amounts of information, give or take, but we do know what mister Rolock's job is within the Utopion society. The fact that he is intending to adopt is probably something of a coincidence, but we plan to take advantage of it and do whatever we can."
"What does he do that would make him so important?" Alesha asked the obvious question.
There was a sudden display of trepidation in Galfe's eyes, and he seemed to play with the words on the tip of his tongue but never allowing them to actually drop. He had held off for so long in telling Alesha anything truly informative about her mission, but now, in this time, what would give him reason to pause when talking about the occupation of a single Rolock was only important to them due to his line of work inside Utopion, so it was no doubt something incredibly important...or incredibly dangerous. Galfe seemed momentarily prepared to move away from discussing the subject, but fortunately for Alesha, he was no longer going to keep her uninformed. He sighed.
"Tanner Rolock is the man whose company's been essential in designing and producing nearly all of Utopion's security systems, which makes him all the more useful to us, if we can get information out of him and his family. All of the secrets and vulnerabilities in Utopion's defenses lie in his hands."
Alesha didn't need much more explanation to put two and two together.
"Utopion's security systems...and that includes...?"
Galfe nodded his head gravely. "He is the creator of the Twitchers, as well."
It started from just one in the beginning, releasing a roaring moan that only increased in volume with every passing second, until it was literally screaming at the top of its artificial lungs. Soon, like an infection, it began to spread, with the one next to it howling as well, and then the one on its right, and more and more of them started to scream their empty, meaningless screams until the air itself seemed to tremble from the vibrations. There was no point for them to scream, at least not from the logic of a human being. They had no minds, no souls to speak of, and yet they were screaming, but it was not in pain or in fear, for they did not have those things either. It was like they screamed simply because they had to. They screamed and screamed, and to those of deeper philosophical beliefs, it would seem like exemplary evidence toward the much-discussed conversation about the 'mirroring' between man and machine, with how the two were becoming more and more alike every day. But, for a man rooted firmly in reality like Tanner Rolock, it was nothing more than a troublesome glitch spreading through the system.
"They're screaming again," he peered over the thin railing to stare at the nearly thousand Raylons, or 'Twitchers' as they were known to the commoners, standing in orderly file far below him. Many of them had their mouths opened at their widest as these awful, depressive sounds emerged from their tube-shaped throats. Their 'faces' were as blank as they had been, but with their heads tilted back, their eyes seemed to be staring up at him. It would have been unnerving, if Tanner hadn't considered it a simple coincidence. They were all set in 'standby' mode; they shouldn't have been aware of any human presences in the room. At least that much should have been impossible, he told himself. The screaming was so bad, he wore a pair of earplugs, but a special communicator strapped to his left cheek allowed his words to transfer over to his companion, clear as day.
A large woman was accompanying Tanner Rolock. She wore an official uniform of the state, her glossy silver badge pinned over an ample breast. She wore a beige turtleneck sweater underneath her gray vest, not because of the cold, but because Tanner assumed she must have believed it helped improve her physical image. She had the turtleneck pulled up just high enough that you couldn't make out her double-chin, and her stomach was being valiantly contained by a tight corset. It didn't seem to do much good, as her belly contorted against the railing. With a disapproving sniff, the hefty woman licked her red lips and brushed back a curl of black hair from her face.
"You still haven't figured out the problem with the Ravlons?"
Tanner scratched at his budding mustache. He was not quite used to having so much facial hair yet. He brushed back his chocolate-brown hair for a third time in the past hour, always hoping it could be a little smoother. He considered himself relatively handsome for a man in his late 40s, and his wife quite enjoyed him with a bit more scruff. He didn't think it would help impress today's guest, but it never hurt to look presentable. "No, not yet, ma'am. We're still looking into it, but it must be quite a crafty little bug, to have evaded us this long. I'm not sure where the glitch came from or what caused it; apart from this unbearable screaming, they still perform their duties without any issues."
The large woman sniffed again. Her eyes carefully scanned the Ravlons below, slowly enough, like she was inspecting each and every individual robot. Tanner watched her silently with the screams as a backdrop.
"It's like they're looking at me, as if they're accusing me of something. I don't like it." The hefty woman remarked.
"Yes..." Tanner could have sworn the multitude of screams slightly increased in pitch after she'd said that, but it surely was him being mistaken.
"Can you afford to scrap them all and start again?"
"The amount of finances lost in doing so would be enormous. Too much for this city to take."
"So then, we should keep using them?"
"We'll have to reconstruct the walls and make them sound-proof, in fact we've begun work on it already."
"They scream, but they never do anything else? You've made sure of that yourself? Have any of them ever..." the woman went quiet as she peered a bit closer.
"What? Do what?" Tanner asked.
"Have any of them ever just up and walked away?"
Tanner shook his head. "That would be impossible. We have them all on standby mode, not to mention their feet are locked into the floor. It would be physically impossible for them to go anywhere, even if a glitch in their hardware somehow overrode the master code."
The fat woman only gave Tanner a sideways glance. "I will hold you to your word."
Even hours later, long since he had departed from the company warehouse and returned home for dinner with his wife and two children, Tanner could not forget the faces of those wailing machines. They wouldn't even spare him in his dreams, and he had fully expected that.