18 December, 2024 @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2597 (Part 4) | Prompt: (a silver coin)
Source...
Amos woke to a dark hallway. Recessed florescent lights overhead blinked at regular intervals. Curious not as to where he was but what the odd-shaped bulbs represented, he counted the seconds between flashes. Short, then extended buzzing sounds followed a pattern after each interval. He dared not break the connection.
He had no idea the date or how long he'd been in that corridor.
He could only speculate while tears strolled down his cheek as he recalled heading to his shift work at ICO South, preparing to enter Area 91, then stepping across the threshold. Once inside, all else fell vague until a faint memory of Dennis attempting to steal his silver coin flashed before his eyes. The hurt returned.
Amos watched as dark shadows advanced. 'Get up now and run,' he screamed, but the words wouldn't flow to command that his body react.
Instantly, he scoured the room. It was then he noticed the white suit he wore attached to straps on his head, arms, around his waist, and legs, were that of equipment he'd accidentally discovered in a room left open at his unit.
That was when he realized the reason he couldn't move. A straight jacket. Distant voices became clearer as two men approached. Quiet, he commanded. Be still, he ordered. His mind complied. It worked. So, he stared at the ceiling.
"This one's next," one orderly named Matchov stated, pointing to Amos. "His reassignment papers state removal within 24 hours. Make sure we've got the correct human." He stared impatiently at his co-worker, who then grabbed Amos' arm.*
"Man Number, ICO-9708; Amos Goodall," the other orderly, named Benetiz replied after digitally checking Amos' wristband, then continued, "we'd better get a move on. ICO North is waiting.
Both released Amos from the bed restraints and positioned him upright, but still left intact and secured his restrictive traveling suit. All the while, Amos sat motionless, staring ahead at the gray wall as if still traumatized and unresponsive. His current outward docile condition was far from his inner turmoil. His feet still throbbed from the blisters. And his head pounded with a fierce migraine.
A slow awakening as Amos remembered the second voice state that he was being taken to ICO North. Adding to his troubles, his pulse tripled when he realized that he couldn't feel the necklace around his neck or the silver coin on his chest. Amos almost lost his earlier composure when he heard the first voice of Matchov clear his throat, grunt loudly, and look into his eyes with pity.
"Looks harmless enough. Wonder what this one's crime was?" Matchov queried.
"Could be a number of infractions, including what I smell on his breath." Benetiz responded logically. "Poor guy. He was merely a Level 1 Janitor. Probably the stress. No national security threat. But hey, our job is not to question; just move 'em in and out."
"It's a shame, though. The poor bloke won't ever know why his silver coin was inactivated," Matchov confirmed.
"No one knows anything really about The Interdisciplinary Consortium Orbit. It's best not to," Benetiz replied candidly in a strained voice, then shook his head as though reminding himself of the new organization that move din fifty years ago and was now entrenched in their society.
For better or worse. Clean Living. The ICO's philosophy of a joke all citizens knew had gone awry decades ago. But punishments were severe and swift for violations. While Matchov maneuvered around toward the head of the gurney, Benetiz caught hold of the foot. They wheeled Amos out of the dark corridor, through two more long hallways, around a tunnel entrance, and exited the front of an unfamiliar building.
All the while Amos remained silent, choking on his quandary. He grappled with panicked thoughts as a sudden jab of dread exposed his predicament. With wild eyes canvassing the vehicle the orderlies lifted him into and drove off, he couldn't help but release tears as he suspected that the life he knew when he woke that last morning for work was over.
I've violated a law. I've lost my janitor position. I've lost access to a silver coin. And, I'm in a straight jacket on my way to ICO North.
His fate was sealed as he heard the unthinkable, even more so than the loss of his silver coin.
"Benetiz, remove those specialty goggles! He won't need them where he's going," Matchov ordered as he kept his eyes on the road while driving. He stopped at the first intersection, then turned left headed toward the connecting highway that led north to the unknown, but hushed rumors about the infamous specialty unit of ICO.
Now, Part 4:
One bizarre week lying against the side wall in that dark corridor at ICO South came to a close.
Amos now occupied an eighty square foot enclosed room. The living quarters was tiny. He didn't require much. A small cot whose mattress was less than comfortable sufficed for sleeping arrangement. The lack of interior decor continued. Stark gray, familiar walls were the only items that reminded him of his former workplace. A latrine stood against the opposite wall as his only companion. One roll of toilet tissue visible in a glass retrieval system was a welcome and essential amenity.
Am I incarcerated? If so, for how long? Amos pondered.
He stared daily into a silver oblong, unframed object resembling a mirror, except no reflection met his gaze. The other object of interest in the room was the square cut-out in the steel door that housed the means for receiving his meals.
No armoire to house his belongings. But then, he didn't recall traveling with any. He did, however, discover by mistake, or perhaps not, a small case partially exposed underneath the bed. Inside arranged neatly lay an orange jumpsuit, a pair of black and white oxfords, and one pair of white socks. The straight jacket was no longer part of his attire. The thought neither upset nor pleased him. An improvement? or was another means of restraint forthcoming?
Still, he couldn't reconcile the last day of his former life. Minding my own business while patrolling Area 91. The encounter didn't make sense. He rubbed his chest where the silver coin once rested for over ten years.
He lay on his right side many nights staring at another wall until finally drifting into deep, disturbing episodes of sleep.
Several claps of continuous thunder woke Amos one morning. He rose slowly and shuffled toward the window, reinforced with thick gray vertical and horizontal bars. He overlooked them and embraced the storms. They stirred in him scenes from decades ago; him running wild in the rain. He'd glance up to the cold drops of water landing on his tongue. Breathing in deeply, he exhaled.
Soothing, faint voices penetrated his thoughts and jerked him back to his childhood. During this time at the new facility he surmised was ICO North, if the orderlies were truthful, swaths of time went missing. Struggle as he might, he couldn't recall his employee number. Memories of loved ones faded in and out leaving undecipherable warnings. All but one; his eldest sister's face remained constant and haunting.
If only I could see my parents and know they're not being mistreated in some mysterious clinic somewhere up north, he wished with tears strolling down. It didn't immediately dawn on him that now he was in the north region of the country.
Outside, the day dawned dark and foreboding. Amos stood transfixed, staring out into the swirling mix of cold rain and hail.
Immediately and without warning, a large rock blasted through the pane. Startled, Amos retreated quickly behind the window. From out of nowhere, a rock smashed the pane and landed on the floor underneath. Tied to the rock was a piece of white paper, secured in place by a knotted rope.
Amos stared transfixed at the paper for a long moment before kneeling. He inched closer, careful not to touch the rock, not knowing whether the object was dangerous. He paused to glance out the window and noticed no one lurking about.
Untying the knot, he unwrapped the handwritten note. It merely stated, "stop eating the food if you want to live."
Shivering not from the coldness that had crept inside his room, Amos remembered eating dinner the night before. In fact, he'd eaten heartily since his arrival. It wasn't even in the class as his mother's staple dishes, but it kept him alive, so far. Now the urge to vomit rose.
He slid down to the floor and jerked a sharp breath. A strange pain rose in his throat as he stared at the note.
If he didn't eat, he'd die. And dying wasn't in his immediate plans, regardless of the fact that he didn't know what his immediate plans were, other than surviving each day in that unfamiliar place known as ICO North.
One thing Amos did know. He'd violated some unknown law that landed him in that place. He'd lost his janitor position. And, according to the orderly named Matchov, he was no longer under the protection of a silver coin as it was deactivated.
His lifeline. His key to Clean Living. Even if he hadn't lived up to ICO's code of ethics for advancement into upper society. The code that promoted survival of the richest.
And the code strictly forbade what he now realized was his lifeline to sanity; what he craved insatiably when everything else in his life fell short.
A Smoke.
[to be continued]
18 December 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2590: fragment of life
28 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2630: implication
26 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2628: kick him harder
29 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2631: discuss this more
4 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2637: mysterious clinic
5 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2638: Did you authorise this?
20 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2653: survival of the richest
If you'd like to return to the beginning of my series, here are the previous chapters:
SOURCES:
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b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
1 What is Stable Diffusion? StarryAI.Com. Online at: https://starryai.com/stable-diffusion
!BEER