Speakeasy 162 – What is Death?

20 May

Until the day I die I’ll never forget those glassy, unblinking eyes. The way they stared on without feeling as the bullets came out of their porcelain hands. I will never forget the way they killed my body to capture my soul. But they’ll kill that too soon enough, and then I really will die. The only thing that matters now is the time I have between now and then.. Because the human instinct is to survive, that’s what they’re counting on with this. I just hope they’ve underestimated it, although now that I think about it, it’s highly doubtful. I know I have to bide my time, I’ll only get one chance.
I hate them so much, the people doing this to us. I hate them for putting me in this white, synthetic body. Plastic and reinforced, the new thought police: perfect, because they are without thought, they can never betray.
They bring us here, from the darkest part of town where men live in the ignorance of life itself. Except they could never know that I had not lived there all my life. They tell us this is the year 1984, it’s a joke but I read, and I understand only too well what it means.
The dark places where they found us and the likes of us will be the first to go, then they will slowly enslave the working classes, building their way up so well that no one will realise before it’s too late. I know how these things work:
I used to be deep in politics and the deeper I went, the more trouble got into. The world we live in now is far from what you’d think. There are layers upon layers of corruption, manipulation plots and manoeuvres and counter-manoeuvres in all levels and more as you go higher up the ranks. Of course once I discovered that I tried to restore a democratic and honest government but that wasn’t happening and I was slowly starting to attract unwanted attention. So I retreated into the shadows, where no one would come looking… Until now.
They brought us in, they taught us how to read, they taught us how to fight. Then they immobilised us and put our brains inside these machines: cleverly put together as to resemble human movement as accurately as possible but with a few… upgrades… like the bullets that can be shot through our hands though for now it’s just empty rounds. They need human brains that already know how to move to be able to keep up with the intricate design. We have to be inside.
I’m in a big room in a rather small complex, there are bedrooms (because maybe the one inconvenient thing is that though the body doesn’t need to rest, the mind does) and there is a place with chargers for our bodies and sustenance for our brains which come in cartridges that last a week. The last place is a training ground where we have to remember how to fight and get better at it.

I’ve been here for three months now, a monotonous silence with nothing but us. Actually there is a painting, of a man, hung up high on the wall where no one can reach it, even with the “super jump” as I like to call it. A man from long ago, looking down at us disapprovingly. He keeps looking down with that same unwavering stare, guarded by two feisty little hairy beings. He called us dangerous. He taunted our maimed souls: “look what you have become”. And we lower our heads, furiously mute and helpless. Because we cannot talk.

By now I can see that most have already become exactly what they wanted us to be. I think some of them believe this is hell.We have no means of communicating. Now I know, they weren’t going to kill us… that was never going to work, they want to drive us so mad that they won’t even need to kill us, over time we will all become the mindless creatures we saw when we first got here, and that’s when I saw, in a flash of lucidity, that I was never getting out of here “alive”, so to say. And so like that, I give up.


Well… the glassy eyes were a good idea but I had a bit more trouble with the painting.
Oh yes this time I’ll also be submitting DragonSpark’s entry. DragonSpark is a friend of mine who writes on my blog and I figured seeing as we’re not the same person it’s fine if it’s the same blog right?
Anyway, hope you liked this πŸ™‚


Posted by on 20 May 2014 in BanzaΓ―, Speakeasy


Tags: , , ,

36 responses to “Speakeasy 162 – What is Death?

  1. tinkerbelle96

    20 May 2014 at 21:07

    Oh God, scary new world order this is! Kinda reminds me of the terminator series but it’s a lot more chilling than that was, besides there are no friendly robots in this, just spine-freezing technology and great evil…this could be continued into a novel!

    • imab00kworm

      20 May 2014 at 21:20

      True, but the guy’s kind of already dead :/
      Its a good idea and feel free to write that novel if you want to though because I won’t, it’s too dark and I would mainly be copying George Orwell’s 1984 (which I have no interest in doing).
      Thank you and I’m glad you participated again, hope to see some more amazing stuff from you πŸ™‚

  2. jannatwrites

    21 May 2014 at 03:58

    Oh, this is freaky. The idea of our brains being harvested to mobilize robots is frightening. Even more eerie is the realization that it’s happened and you face insanity or death.

    • imab00kworm

      21 May 2014 at 07:19

      Thank you (even though that doesn’t sound like the right answer) πŸ˜‰
      I’m glad you felt it πŸ™‚

  3. thewizardsword

    21 May 2014 at 12:58

    Wow. I like this a lot.

  4. Suzanne

    21 May 2014 at 17:56

    Creepy and disturbing story. I like the way you used the painting near the end – it added to their sense of being trapped and being slowly destroyed. Nice take on the prompts!

  5. Meg

    22 May 2014 at 03:28

    I liked the gradual transition from determination to hopelessness — you did it so gracefully that you can imagine that going mad is inevitable. Nice job.

  6. Bastet

    22 May 2014 at 09:53

    Not to repeat everyone…I think this is one of the most spooky post disaster stories that I’ve read in awhile, basically because of the description of the corrupt system. Pretty Orwellian with a twist … direct control not “simple” coercion. Interesting.

    • imab00kworm

      22 May 2014 at 11:46

      Thank you!
      I had to read 1984 last year an although I didn’t like the story itself it was very well written and I appreciated the clear message at the end

      • Bastet

        22 May 2014 at 12:07

        know what you mean about 1984…the rat scene really got to me … like yuck! But Orwell could sure write a story!

      • imab00kworm

        22 May 2014 at 12:18

        Yup that’s only too true. We did a school play on 1984 called 2084. Except that when I say school play it’s semi-professional in a theatre an all (well it’s not professional when I mess up the lights or when you hear a “tree” falling during a blackout and the teacher goes “what was that?!” “Oh that must’ve been a tree”. Of course no one heard the conversation, but they heard the tree) so yeah… cool

      • Bastet

        22 May 2014 at 13:25

        lol…could run into a philosophical discussion with hearing a tree falling without seeing it…careful. Anyway sounds fun!

      • imab00kworm

        22 May 2014 at 13:29

        It was super fun and the getting ready of the Play had such a wonderful atmosphere πŸ™‚ I did it this year too and next year I’m hoping to maybe act.

      • Bastet

        22 May 2014 at 14:09

        Good for you…and break a leg! πŸ˜‰

      • imab00kworm

        22 May 2014 at 17:04

        (Though I hope I don’t actually break a leg as it might be problematic for acting πŸ˜‰ )

      • Bastet

        23 May 2014 at 07:04

        lol…acting superstion…never say good luck but break a leg which means good luck without saying it which is bad luck of course! πŸ˜‰

      • imab00kworm

        23 May 2014 at 14:46

        It’s bad luck?

      • Bastet

        23 May 2014 at 16:57

        Bad luck to say good luck, yes. Like for the Italians who will say “in bocca al lupo” which means into the wolves mouth to say good luck.

      • imab00kworm

        23 May 2014 at 17:30

        Ah I see… in France we say “merde”. French people are poetic like that…

      • Bastet

        23 May 2014 at 18:23

        oui je sais…je habiter en Afrique francais per divers annΓ¨ … but my French is atrocious … except I do remember merde very well, some people said it between every other word πŸ˜‰

      • imab00kworm

        23 May 2014 at 18:25

        Lol πŸ˜‰ but Africa! That’s so cool! The furthest I’ve ever been is Serbia. And I didn’t even see that much.

      • Bastet

        24 May 2014 at 04:39

        I have never been to Serbia…so I find that intersting! πŸ™‚

      • imab00kworm

        24 May 2014 at 06:36


  7. atrm61

    22 May 2014 at 11:36

    OMG!This is scary as hell!A great take on the prompt πŸ™‚

    • imab00kworm

      22 May 2014 at 11:57

      Thank you, it seems I get more response when I’m scary :/
      Or maybe it’s just because the clan has accepted me as their own? Either way thanks for stopping by and commenting πŸ™‚

      • atrm61

        22 May 2014 at 12:01

        I love all dark writings AND humor ;-)Don’t have much appetite for abstract writings or depressing ramblings πŸ˜›

      • imab00kworm

        22 May 2014 at 12:08

        So dark humour? That could be interesting… I think my next post will be more lighthearted though, sorry to disappoint you. Although if you like dark you might like my new “friendly prompt”? I get bored and ask friends for words then publish what I write.
        For humour there’s my first friendly post (which I wrote yesterday and posted today) so you could check those out πŸ™‚

      • atrm61

        22 May 2014 at 12:11

        Light hearted writings are great too but no heavy stuff for me please,lol!

      • imab00kworm

        22 May 2014 at 12:22

        This was pretty heavy, sure it was creepy too which might compensate, I don’t especially like heavy either.

      • atrm61

        22 May 2014 at 12:42


  8. Kathy Combs (@Kathy29156)

    22 May 2014 at 15:09

    That was just plain scary!


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