It’s official, this blog is going away in just three days, but I have launched my writers blog. Please visit WritingHumanBlog.wordpress.com.

I will have loads more posted in the coming days, but wanted to share the link, just in case any of you wan to follow me over there. So, please stop by and let me know what you think. Thanks!

Harper Eckles, out.

Hi there readers and lovers of all things dystopian. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I’ve been neglecting you. I’m sorry. Truly. However, my work schedule keeps me busy, my store (OddShack.etsy.com) is always beckoning for love and attention and in all honesty… I’ve had to shelve this product. Sadly, all my waking hours are filled and Harper Eckles has been (big sigh) shelved.

Shelved. That’s a dirty word in the writing world isn’t it? Sadly, while  the feedback I’ve received is positive, I am not blind. I can see that the market is flooded with dystopian right now. While it has always been, and surely will continue to be, my absolute favorite, I made the mistake of pushing something that is “in”. I continue to work on the next book in the series (this here blog, as you know, is a prequel to the first), but am having to redirect my time elsewhere. I’m currently polishing and beginning to push a new contemporary YA sci-fi and am working on a SFF new adult bit of serial fiction. I’ve already received an invitation for this piece, once complete and will let you all know how to subscribe.

Also, I am caving to demand and am creating an author’s website. It will have short stories, articles, and random ramblings for anyone who wants to sneak a peak. It is in its infancy, but I hope to have the site up and running by month’s end. I will be closing this site within the next few days though. If you’d like to see future posts from me and want to keep updated on when my new Author website launches, when you can get your hands on my serial fiction series, and receive updates on future projects, please follow me on Twitter: @MeachamOddshack

I hope to see you there. It has been a blast working on this project. I’m sorry I bit off more than I could chew, and cannot express how much I have loved getting to know some of you, how amazing your feedback has been, and truly, how grateful I am for your time, your thoughts, and more than anything, your support. So, goodbye for now, all of you. Thank you for everything. Best of luck to you all, and in case I haven’t mentioned it enough, thank you.

And again, I will be pursuing this project in the future. Don’t you worry. You’ll find out what happens to Harper, just not today.

So until next time…

We are the Legion. The Legion lives on. Harper Eckles, out.

May 6, 2117

(…continued from earlier post)

“Don’t say the Opposition. It’s a dirty word.” The horrid man spoke in a deep voice that betrayed the juvenile reverence with which he spoke. His words and tone were those of a toddler, but the man was well into his thirties.

Perturbed by the disconnect and already regretting her admission, Ella only shrugged her shoulders and scowled.

“Do you belong to them? To the, the Opposition?” He barely whispered as he uttered the last word.

She shook her head only once.

“The Legion, then?”

To that Ella scoffed. “I’m only thirteen.”

The man’s head tilted again as he sat forward in his chair, entranced. “Thirteen is a good age. It’s an important age. That’s when you really want to belong.”

“Belong?”

“To something. Anything. I assume that’s why you joined the Opposition. You wanted to belong. Like your mother.”

“What do you know about my mother?” Ella had grown defensive, territorial.

“Nothing.” Though still creepy, the man too became defensive, surely an emotion born of vulnerability. None of us viewers knew his story, but we could see, just as young Ella could, his story was beginning to unfold. “Just that your mother must have been beautiful.” Silence again claimed the room before the man cleared his throat and ventured, “It’s ok to want to belong.”

She didn’t respond, but I saw the sympathy. It was in her eyes, her expression, her heart. “You know, it’s also ok if you don’t belong.”

“What?!” He lashed out, crossing the room in one leap. He had his hands wrapped around her neck before she even had a chance to block him. Her air was running out as she hit and scratched at his arms, but he acted like he didn’t even feel it. Instead, he raged. “Are you saying I don’t belong? Huh? Is that what you’re saying? Is it? Is it!!”

She shook her head desperately as her tears streamed down her face.

Without warning, he let go and began to pace in front of her as Ella struggled to suck air back into her lungs.

Finally, as both their breathing returned to normal he mumbled. “’Cause I do belong you know?”

“I’m sorry.” She admitted.

He stopped to face her. “Sometimes I doubt it, and when I do, I…” He knelt before her. She tried to scramble away, but he blocked her escape and rolled up his shirt sleeve. “When I wonder if I belong, I do this.”

As viewers, we couldn’t see, but Ella’s reaction told us everything. Her face sagged and the light within her was snuffed out. She was empty, hollow, all hope diminished.

His voice was calm when he spoke next. “You see? All of you, you join the Opposition because you’re scared, because you’re lonely and want to belong. But, if you knew another way, if you knew how to make yourself feel, something to connect you, you wouldn’t have to do that.”

Ella searched his face, desperate for something, anything that could be an alternative to what he was offering.

“That’s what I’m going to do. You’ll be the first. You’ll see.”

“See what?”

“I’m going to save everyone, show them how to belong without joining the Opposition…I’m going to eliminate the Opposition.”

“Eliminate the…” she couldn’t bring herself to go on.

“It’s like I said; you have an amazing destiny Ella. Simply amazing. You and I are going to create history. Right here. In this room.” Still mindful to keep his face from the seeking eyes of the camera lens, he moved to the far wall where he pushed on a panel that dropped down.

It was a hidden shelf and compartment from which he pulled a knife and casually moved back to Ella.

“No.” She whimpered as her chest began to quake from her sobs. “Please.” She managed to squeak out. “No.”

“Sh-shh. Don’t cry. It’s not bad. Really. It just helps you feel, so you know you’re not adrift, that you’re connected. See? Pain is the same for everyone. It’s how you know… it’s what ties you to everyone else.”

Ella could do nothing more than cry until the blade brushed along her skin too and screams burst forth. First, he cut the tops of her forearms, and then his own. She scrambled, desperate to get away, but he pinned her down, matching her agony with his own, stoke for stroke. Her shoulder, then his, her cheekbone, then his.

She begged and pleaded. “Stop! Please, stop! It hurts! No! No! Please, please, please, NO!”

He ran the edge of the blade across her forehead causing the blood to run down her entire face. As he matched the stroke across his own forehead, he used his hand to collect his blood, and run it across her newest wound. Then he repeated the process, adding her blood to his. “See?” Despite the blood that coated them both and smeared the tile floor in illustration of their tragedy, his voice was at ease. “Forever, you and me, we will always be bonded.”

“Stop it!” Her voice launched into hysterics. “Stop, stop, stop, Stttttoooooopppppp!” she was choking on the emotion that clogged her throat as she spat her own blood from her mouth.

“You want me to stop?” he rolled back on his haunches.

“Pleeeaaase.” She whimpered.

“But doesn’t it feel nice to belong?” the vulnerability in his voice then caused even me to hold my breath. Every one of us who was watching on knew that her response would determine her future, but with such a fragile psyche in control of that destiny, there was no telling what was the right or wrong answer.

I watched as her eyes locked on his. Her focus was unwavering even as her mind darted back and forth between telling the truth and lying. “No.” she finally said flatly. “You’re hurting me.”

He fell back as though she had kicked him and clutching the knife to his chest, he scuttled back to the center of the room. “Not you too. Not you too. Not you too. Not you too. Not you too.” He mumbled incessantly.

“Not me what?” she was exasperated and in pain, desperation clinging to her words like a weapon as her fear expelled from her in anger. “You’re the one…” her voice quaked as more tears clogged her throat. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

“But…” now he was crying, his voice like that of a child. “”None of you, not any of my past besties I’ve picked out or even my mom… none of you want to be connected to me.” His tone shifted as he rose from the floor. “Why don’t you love me?!”

“Love you?” She cried, horrified. “I don’t even know you!”

Her words caused her captor to lose his mind. He bent forward at the waist, his arms dropping toward the ground as he screeched and bellowed like a wild animal with clenched fists.

Ella slipped and slid across the floor to the corner where she covered her ears and let the tears flow.

He screamed so loudly the camera had difficulty capturing, and the speakers had trouble broadcasting, the varying pitches and sounds that spouted from him. Finally, he dropped to his knees. “My mom didn’t want to be connected to me either.” His voice was raw as he spoke. “So I blew her up.” He spoke the words so matter-of-fact, it was as though he were a different person than the raging beast that had lost its mind a moment ago.

Ella’s hands dropped from her ears.

“But it didn’t help. I’m still alone.” He began to weep. “I tried to save her, but she refused to leave the Opposition. If she just would have listened to me, she could have belonged to me. Then, she wouldn’t have had to belong to the Opposition.” He crawled over to Ella slowly, his blood marking yet another trail on the floor which looked as though it were out of a horror movie.

Though she twisted and fought, Ella had grown weak from blood loss, and her attempt was futile. Instead, she could do little more than watch as he held her wrist, the blade just above it.

His voice was small, desperate as she spoke. “Ella, will you belong to me?”

Through her tears, she shook her head. “No.” she blubbered softly. “I’m sorry.”

Again, he roared as he jumped to his feet, stepping purposefully to the same collapsed shelf he had pulled the knife from. “What does the Opposition have on you, huh? What’s so special about it? Why isn’t it good enough for you to just belong to me?” Again, his voice broke as he was overcome. “Why doesn’t anyone want to belong to me?”

Pulling something from the shelf, he turned back to her. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Terrified, Ella offered, “You’re not.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No. Really. I do. I swear, I-”

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO LIE TO ME!” Then his voice shriveled up as he continued. “No secrets. That’s all I wanted, was no secrets, but you can’t do that can you?” He shrugged. “I’ll love you enough to make up for it anyway. I still want to give you the greatest destiny in the world.”

“What destiny?”

“We’re going to show them.” He was exasperated that she still didn’t understand as he moved to stand before her.

“Who? What?” she blubbered.

“All of them. Everyone. You and me. We’re going to show them how to belong without joining the Opposition.”

“What are you talking about?” And then, Ella gasped as the air left her body when he opened his hand. There, lying on his palm was a grenade.

The pin was already pulled out.

There was a serenity in his voice as he spoke, even as Ella scrambled to her feet, slipping and sliding in their blood. “We’ll always belong to one another Ella. Always.”

There was a moment, a single fractured moment when the room seemed to fill with energy, and then, after a burst of light and noise, it was gone. The camera feed stopped. Young Ella Chang was gone. And her faceless monster? He ceased to exist.

Of course, the public went crazy as they took to the media to discuss what we had witnessed. Some tried to rationalize it. But how could you? Others glorified it. After all, he wasn’t the only monster among us. Some blamed our beloved Opposition, but we’re used to that. Still others, others could do nothing more than question. How could someone like that have so much money? What was wrong with him? Who was he? Was he truly crazy, or did something cause him to snap? Was it a conspiracy? How on earth did he live so long without being eliminated? Surely he wouldn’t have passed through school without elimination. So, who was he? Who was he related to? What makes a person do that? How did he go unnoticed? Did they know he had a bomb? Did they know he was going to blow that building up? Was anyone else killed or injured?

The questions were endless, but not from me.

I didn’t ponder those questions. I didn’t wonder who he was, who approved it, or what was wrong with him. Instead, I focused on fear.

I am terrified of whatever it was that happened to him, whatever broke him, and more importantly, who is responsible. You see, monsters walk among us, but they are not the same as you and I, nor are they victims or weak. As you know, in our world, only the best and strongest survive. So then, for an extremely wealthy, broken man to reach that point… the answer everyone else is looking for becomes clear.

Ladies and gentlemen, he is not one of us. He was created, his psyche molded to hurt us, to attack us.

To beat us.

So until next time…

We are the Legion. The Legion lives on. Harper Eckles, out.

 

 

 

May 6, 2117

Female; Age: 13

Status: Sold     Price: $7,350,000.00

Well, today it seems the Elites wanted to jump right in and see just how lucrative this pool of evil will really be for them, and it worked. People were practically clamoring over one another to get their bids in today.

I’m going to skip my usual tirade. Instead, I’ll simply recount the event here, in case there are any of you reading this who didn’t tune in. It’ll be far more effective than anything I have to say anyway.

{As a quick note, I stream these posts live and expect that I’ll  receive orders to report soon. If so, I will have to take a break from the post, but will complete the entry upon my return.}

As we tuned in, young, sweet Ella Chang was suspended at the back of the room, her wrists secured by chains to the ceiling under lock and key as the devil walked in. Biting her lower lip, Ella struggled to reign in her emotions. Despite her trembling chin she somehow managed to hold her head high.

“Hi Sweetie.” The man cooed as he dragged a metal chair to sit before her. “What’s your name?”

Her only response was the cascade of tears as they breached their wells.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He assured her.

As the camera zoomed in, we could read the fear, the terror, and the birth of hope in those massive brown eyes of hers, even as the devil kept his back to the camera.

He was six foot tall, average build. His voice, his clothes… everything about him was unremarkable. But he had money. Clearly. Ella hadn’t come cheap.

“It’s ok. Look.” He raised his empty hands to her. “I’m not here to hurt you. Ok?”

Still, she gave no response as her survival instinct had her leaning back, pulling on the chains to gain more distance from him.

Seeing her response, he tsked his tongue. “I’m here to help you. If I was going to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done it already? I’ll help you. Ok? Together, we’ll get through this, I promise you. You and me. Ok.” He waited for more than two minutes before adding, “You have an incredible destiny before you, my dear. I’m going to help you see to it. All I want to do is help. That’s it. Ok?”

Reluctant, she finally nodded. Her tears began to subside as she was overcome with wonder.

“I’m just here to talk to you.” He stood slowly, pulling out his empty pockets. “See? No weapons. Nothing.”

Ella let out a shaky breath and looked to her chained wrists above.

“That’s it. Just relax.” His voice was gentle and kind as though he were talking someone off the edge of cliff. “I only have one rule.”

Her eyes shot back to his, knowing it had been too good to be true.

“Honesty. That’s all. You and me, we have to be honest with one another, ok?”

Her brow furrowed, but still, she didn’t speak.

“That’s the only way we’re going to get through this. We’re a team now, and that means that we can have no secrets ok? Not one. Now, I paid a lot of money to help you. All I need from you is honesty. Ok? You think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, beginning to form a question she couldn’t ask. Not yet.

“Don’t say anything that isn’t true, and don’t hold anything back. Now, you can do that. Can’t you? Hm?”

Her mouth closed and she nodded.

“Good. What’s your name?”

“Ella.” Her voice was timid. “Ella Chang.”

“Very good. It’s nice to meet you Ella.” Though we couldn’t see his face, he must have smiled at her in feigned introduction becuase she tried to mirror the sentiment, but her attempt was fractured and unnerving.

“Are those chains uncomfortable?” She nodded as he moved towards her. “How ‘bout I go ahead and unchain you then? Would you like that?”

She eyed the door as his tone toyed with her. “Now Ella, you aren’t going to try to make a run for it, are you?”

Her head bowed as she shook it.

“Good. Because you and me, we have to stay in here for two hours, and we can’t get out.”

“They why did they chain me?” The words rushed from her mouth before she could hold them in.

The man before her only chuckled. “Clever girl. I’m guessing they did it for my convenience. Surely, they didn’t know I paid all that money to help you. They probably assumed I was a sadistic animal and thought chaining you would make a good impression on me.” He freed first one wrist, then the other. “But I don’t think the chains are necessary. Do you?”

Another wag of the head.

“Good, because we’re friends now. Right?”

Unsure how to answer, she only flashed another maniacal smile at him as she rubbed at her wrists and backed along the wall.

He simply returned to his chair, careful to keep his back to the camera. “How old are you Ella?”

“Thirteen.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“February 3rd.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Red.”

After that response, he paused as his voice dropped. “Me too.”

Frightened by his tone, Ella pulled her knees defensively to her chest as she sat on the floor opposite him.

“Do you have a favorite toy?”

“Not really.”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” he roared and had Ella’s face freezing in shock as she held her breath. “I’m sorry.” He regained control. “But, we cannot have secrets between us, Ella. We must be honest. You agreed. That’s the only way I can help you.”

Another nod even though her eyes welled with tears anew.

“What is your favorite toy, Ella?” His voice had rediscovered its previous charm.

“A stuffed bear.”

“Do you sleep with it?”

Though she tried not to react, I saw the disgust begin to bloom within her as she nodded her head.

“Me too.” Her tormentor revealed.

The disdain was evident on Ella’s face. “You what?”

“I sleep with my favorite toy.”

Deadpan, Ella dropped her eyes to the floor between them as the color drained from her face.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?” He asked.

She shook her head adamantly.

“You sure?”

She nodded furiously, desperate not to know.

He laughed easily. “I’m sorry Ella. That must sound awkward coming from someone you don’t know. But it’s nothing weird. I just meant, I sleep with my favorite toy too. It’s a stuffed cat my mom gave me when I was little. See? That’s not weird is it?”

The entire world knew that was more than a little weird, but Ella stayed strong and smiled. “No.” She agreed. “It’s nice.”

The purchaser let out a huge gush of air as he settled into his chair. “I knew I was right to pick you.” He admitted. “We’re going to be the best of friends. You want that don’t you?”

I saw her gulp, swallowing the true answer before saying. “Yes. Of course. Thank you.”

“So tell me about yourself, Ella.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yes.” He paused, catching his breath in all the excitement. “I’ve never had a best friend before. I want to know everything.”

“You’ve never…” she began to question the incredulity of the admission but caught herself. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Oh.” There could be no hiding the disappointment in his voice. “Do you want me to go first, then?”

She nodded, grateful for the reprieve.

“I’ve lived in Muni One most of my life, but recently got reassigned here. I don’t really miss it there much. I didn’t have any friends or anyone.” His voice drifted off and the uncomfortable pause quickly became unbearably long.

“What about your mom?” Ella asked finally.

“What?” It was as though he had been startled and brought back into the present.

“Was your mom there?”

“My mom? She…” he laughed wryly. “She was there. For a while.”

“Did she move?”

“She died.” His voice was cold, disconnected.

“Oh.” Ella crossed her legs in front of her on the floor. “I’m sorry.” She studied him then. I don’t know if it was the awkward silence that refilled the room, or if she had somehow found compassion for a man who had just bought her as though she weren’t human, but something compelled her to trudge on for clearly, she was stronger than I. “My mom died too.” Her confession was barely loud enough to be picked up by the camera, but her demon heard it.

He tilted his head as he studied her. “How?”

I saw the confusion, the hesitation ripple across her face, but she kept them at bay. After all, she had to be honest. “She belonged the Opposition.”

“The Opposition?” he tested the words before I saw his ears pick up from behind, indicative of a massive smile. “The Opposition.” He spoke with much more confidence as he repeated the words.

{Sorry for the interruption, but Orders received. I will resume as soon as possible.}

 

May 5, 2117

Male; Age: 72

Status: Sold     Price: $78,000.00

A quick note: today’s victim has been heralded as “a real bargain” of a price. I believe the Elites were hoping for significantly more from each sale. However, as he is the first they’ve auctioned up, most citizens are still hesitant to participate. Sadly, I do believe the prices will only go up from here. True, this is an unfathomable amount to most citizens, but to the Elites, the amount is laughable.

I don’t know how many of you reading this were subjected to witnessing the “event”. For those who were, I give you my sympathies, but you must know, this is going to get significantly worse before it gets better.

We first met Mr. Smithfield naked, gagged and shackled. He was shivering, no doubt a combination of cold, fear and age. The poor man had clearly led a difficult life, his body marred by time and injury alike. His joints were ravaged by arthritis to which he has never known relief and hardly any meat covered his bones, yet another faceless victim of the malnutrition so many of us face.

Then, our auction victor swaggered through the doorway wearing a mask. It looked like a ski mask but was made of some type of linen. After all, we wouldn’t want our high paying patrons to become overheated now would we?

And he certainly didn’t waste any time getting his hands dirty. The door had no sooner closed behind him before he cracked his baton along the old man’s back. Mr. Smithfield’s unseeing, once blue eyes shot wide at the pain even as his body crumbled. His tormenter didn’t even say a word as he brought that baton down over and over again, driving it across arms held up defensively, legs that tried to stand or crawl away, ribs that moved into its path, and ultimately, the poor man’s skull.

There was no sound except for the abuser’s huffing and puffing as he hauled on the old body before him., and the sickening thuds that called back in response to each blow. Luckily, if you can say anything about this is lucky, his skull gave way to the second swing it endured, and thankfully, the old man suffered no more. Of course, his body received more assault, but his mind had found sanctuary. He didn’t know that the baton spilled not just his blood, but his brain matter on the cold concrete floor. He didn’t see that his skin still cracked when hit with enough force even when blood no longer pumped through his veins. He didn’t realize that if you hit hard enough, hit long enough, a head was no longer round, and he certainly didn’t know that more than eighty percent of our nation tuned in to watch his manhood be pummeled into mush.

Though our auction winner was entitled to four hours, he used less than one and walked away sweaty and utterly spent. Less than one hour to spoil a life and ensure that when his loved ones remembered him, they remembered only sorrow and pain. Then again, those very same loved ones will reach a similar end. So they won’t reflect on this long.

For those of you wondering, yes.

Each of our captive loved ones was forced to witness the atrocities committed today. They are now, if they weren’t already, clearly aware of the hell they will face.

So what was it that had motivated our buyer? Was it rage? Vengeance? Had he known the victim? Or was it simply hate or a broken psyche? Was he just reveling in newfound power, a victim himself looking to experience what Elites dole out daily? Was he simply blood-thirsty or trying to send a message to someone? In truth, the possibilities are endless. We will likely never know, but I am confident in saying this, whatever his reason, there are many, many more out there seeking something similar and far, far worse.

Though in times like this it an be difficult to remember, please keep in mind… We are the Legion. The Legion lives on. Harper Eckles, out.

May 2, 2117

Today is a dark day, a day that will go down in the history of this once great nation of ours. Once upon a time America stood for freedom and had been the most brilliant beacon of hope in a tumultuous world. We had led the charge, advocating for humanitarian causes across a broad spectrum, especially for humane treatment of all people, without restriction. While the Elites have long done away with the humanitarian mantel once anchored securely around our shoulders, today they take that bastardization of morality one step further.

Today, the Devil will announce torture, torment and evil- new weapons in their war on democracy. Soon, a broadcast will go out across this entire nation – a new day, a new era- one bloodier than the last and hedging the way into a darker future.

Why, you ask…

In the name of financial gain…for entertainment…. they will claim. I’m sure at some point, they will nod to sovereignty as well, but you and I, and every other member of the Legion, the entire Opposition… we can be certain of the true answer to that question- to send a very clear message to us all.

What are the Elites doing now, you wonder…

They have long been in the business of playing God, using myself and other Elite Premiers as executioners of their will. So too have they been dabbling in the fine art of selling souls. However, they will now be moving that market to the mainstream.

Today they will announce the auctioning off of our loved ones.

It’s true. The broadcast that will call out across this nation in the matter of hours will showcase their newest gimmick, their newest spectacle. In the time since my April 25, 2117 post they have managed to capture all remaining immediate family members of the sixteen lives spent at the entrance to the Pitman Tunnels – the three who made the delivery and the thirteen captured trying to obtain clean water.

Each of those family members will go up for sale in an auction open to all Elites. They will be sold, one per day over the next several weeks. Once sold, the highest bidder will arrive to a “secure location” where they will be given four hours. Four hours to do whatever they wish, as long as it ends in their death. As nauseating as this may be, it gets worse.

Also open to all Elites is a subscription service wherein you pay a fee to stream the live feed and watch the four hour allotment. You can buy per person, or subscribe to the entire event, wherein each of the public executions will be streamed to the personal device of your choosing.

Remember, this is now the Elites’ America. We’re nothing if not smart business men and women. Can’t miss out on a profitable opportunity like this, right?

Please, my dear followers… forgive me for my sarcasm, my callous demeanor. Ice is my only shield as I face this horrifying future. As an Elite Premier, I will witness Every. Single. Death. they televise. As a member of this Legion, the Opposition, I will become more enraged, more determined to turn the tide against them. As a citizen, I will feel more helpless. And, as a person, I will become more broken. This newest chapter in America’s future breaks my heart, as I’m sure it does yours.

But we mustn’t allow it to break our resolve. Do not shrink away from them. Do not allow this to instill more fear in you.

Do not allow them to beat you, to beat us.

That is what they want. They want to make it appear as though they are impenetrable, beyond our reach. Well, they are human, the same as you and me. We may not possess the evil that flows through their veins, but flow it does, and when cut, they bleed, just like you and I.

Though it may be difficult to remember, one day… one day this will change. We will bring their own measures of deceit, misery and pain to them. We need only bide our time, continue to build toward that moment… that single, glorious moment when we strike back and reclaim honor, dignity and democracy.

So until next time… We are the Legion. The Legion lives on. Harper Eckles, out.

April 25, 2117

Well, now we know. I’m sure you’ve all seen the news broadcast by now…

“Tonight we bring you an update from Muni Six. It seems our homegrown terrorists, members of the Legion, are at it yet again. Earlier this week a concerned citizen, a local man by the name of Maritizio Polom, stumbled upon some startling information. Mr. Polom says he overheard two criminals discussing an illegal delivery of water. He heard where and when the stolen goods were being delivered, and as a good Patriot, he was quick to convey this information to the nearest Containment Administrator. The Premiers confirmed the delivery and seized over 1,200 bottles of water.”

The video feed cut from the anchor desk to an interview of Mr. Polom. “I don’t know if I’m a hero.” He wore a sheepish grin, feigning humility. “I mean, I didn’t know if they were radicals, or just crazy or what…but I knew it wasn’t right and figured, man I just… you can’t hear something like and that and pretend you didn’t. You know? You gotta do what’s right…for the Nation.”

“Indeed.” The anchor smiled broadly as the feed cut back to her. “And a good thing he did too. While the Elites suspect Braden James is behind this, they aren’t sure how far this goes just yet. They don’t know the motives for the delivery, the source or even who it was intended for. Though, they did apprehend the three who made the delivery, as well as thirteen others they believe intended to accept delivery. Of course, we will tell you more as additional details become available. But for now, let’s tune in to today’s earlier press conference.”

Video showed Sheriff Garrett addressing the media with arms outstretched, palms to the crowd as though he were making a grand proclamation from atop his dais. “Now, all of us, the entire Capital, heck the entire Nation owe Mr. Polom a bit of gratitude. He was forthcoming in sharing this information and helped thwart a possible attack, or at the very least, prevented Legion terrorists from again removing themselves from you and I. They may believe themselves above our laws, our restrictions, but thanks to Mr. Polom, they are reminded that they must endure the same water restrictions as the rest of us. To show our thanks, the Municipal Six Capital would like to extend an offer to Mr. Polom and his entire family. He is a true Patriot and as such, we would like to extend every comfort possible.”

The camera zoomed out to show him being ushered to the stage, bewildered.

Sheriff Garrett continued. “Mr. Polom, we would like to offer you a new home within the Capital, amongst the Elites. This would be for you and your entire family. Now, I understand your current appointment is as a Transport Loader. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“How would you like a new appointment?” He chuckled slightly at the confusion in Polom’s eyes, brushing off the visible trepidation and instead showing it as innocence for our viewers. “How would you like to be an Elite Chauffer? You’ll transport other Elites between Municipals, into the Underbelly, anywhere the programmable routes won’t allow. How does that sound? Hm?”

“That…” He gave a shaky breath of disbelief. “That would be amazing, Sir.”

“Wonderful!” the Sheriff gushed as the feed landed back on the anchor desk.

“Well, that was mighty generous of them, wasn’t it?” the anchor flashed her disingenuous smile at the camera once more. “So you see viewers, being a Patriot, supporting our Nation… that is all the Elites ask of us. And, as they proved yet again, to do so will only be met with generosity.”

Too disgusted to listen to any more of their lies and misinformation, I shut off my screen. What aired in this evening’s special did hold more information than I had expected. What it didn’t show however, was the truth.

Instead, they painted that snake of a man as a hero, welcoming him into their ranks, giving him prosperity for outing us. It was a very bold lesson and won them a lot of Patriots today. I don’t know of a time when the Legion, the entire Opposition, was in such ill favor in the eyes of the public, and it seems they will be pushing further down that path, turning as many disinterested citizens against us by any means possible. Such “generosity” may even grow dissent within the Opposition, more so than it already has. But this is a ploy, a bribe akin to the promise of heaven upon death to those who are deserving. It is a dirty practice used by those who seek power to convince the weak. The Elites’ use of this tool is not new, but it will make our intentions even more difficult.

Of course, the media neglected to further discuss the “apprehension” of the three men who delivered the water, and the thirteen others who attempted to retrieve it. Aware of the delivery, the Elites lay in wait and as our vehicle backed into the tunnel, they were ambushed. Our driver was killed instantly, parts of his brains splattered along his headrest as the other two were dragged from the vehicle. Each of them had their hands chopped off crudely by way of machete. The two men then had tourniquets tied to their arms, bandages applied to slow the bleeding of their stumped limbs and each were returned to the vehicle. The vehicle was edged out of the tunnel to ensure the sun could penetrate the windows and allow for our record breaking heat (in excess of 110 degrees) to join the tormented men within the cab of the truck.

When we were briefed, we witnessed all footage, footage not disseminated amongst the masses in this evening’s broadcast. I watched as they captured each of those thirteen souls, people desperate for life-sustaining water, our own brothers and sisters hoping they could conceal enough to get their loved ones through the next month. Each was captured alive, if not uninjured and made to stand in the shadows along the entrance to the tunnel. Each was held at gun point, gagged to ensure they could issue no alarm to fellow Legion members who might stumble into the Elites’ trap and … they watched. They watched the men inside the truck drift back and forth between shock, delusion from lost blood and nausea from heat exhaustion. Sweat rolled off the men in the truck as they moaned and cried. Begged. They became violently ill, one even banging his stump of a left arm on the window, hoping, demanding, needing humanity to engage one of his tormenter’s conscience, to no avail. The other flopped onto his back and tried kicking a window out, either forgetting that they had converted the Legion’s delivery truck to include bullet-proof windows, or hoping God would grant him the strength to break through regardless. Both men drowned in their own misery before sundown and all the forced spectators were promptly brought to stand before the vehicle in a half circle. Elites were sure to give them a good view of the inside of the cab as the guns held to each of their thirteen heads finally gave way, committing their bodies to the ground at the mouth of the tunnel.

In true Elite form, there was to be no service for those who had been executed. They would not be returning the bodies to loved ones. Instead, the water was claimed for their own stash, and surveillance was updated to ensure should anybody venture upon the scene in the hopes of retrieving a loved one, they too would be captured and appropriately punished.

After all, it’s the Elites’ America now, a country where to strive for life is to sin. So, until next time…

We are the Legion. The Legion lives on. Harper Eckles, out.