|Zone 25 (standard:science fiction, 1757 words)|
|Author: Dark River||Added: Dec 02 2003||Views/Reads: 1997/1145||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Do you also hate crowds?|
It was past midday. I don't know what the hell I was thinking but I woke up in the middle of a crowd. I hate crowds. What's the use of it? Why should I elbow my way? To see a cyborg fighting with a khamal? And the horrible smell of sweat which felt in the air and was amplified by the heat...I hate crowds yet I was in the middle of one. Who the hell made me pass through Zone 25? “Hey you, step aside if not I'll smash your face!, a beggar with ragged and dusty clothes yelled at me. “Leave me the hell alone you bastard! Mind your own business, son of a bitch!” and I rush to hit him. But the bastard gets away and slides off. That's a good one smash my face! Damn it! I cannot walk peacefully in the street anymore! Besides, what street? This is not a street, it's a swarm of people who murmur continuously and who stink! Who the hell made me pass through Zone 25? One would have understood if I hadn't known how things stand here, yes I would have had an excuse. But I knew. I knew that it was the zone of the beggars, of the immoral people, of the leprous. And I also knew that fights between cyborgs and khamals took place there three times a week. Speaking of khamals, I have never understood what the hell they eat. They don't have a mouth. It's true that I haven't been too interested in finding it out but I simply wonder. What the hell do they live on? A huge creature of two meters high and as much breadth! Their skin is so damn thick that hardly can a knife pierce it. I was told that they were brought from a planet of Kalix system three years ago. “Griko! Griko!” started shouting the people around me. I look around to see what is going on, why the hell they are all shouting like madmen. About one hundred meters in front of me, four guys are setting a kind of stage. Actually it is a ring. A cyborg and a khamal are to fight to death there. But who the hell or what the hell is Griko? I look about for a less stinky face to explain it to me if I am doomed to stay here, I should, at least, find out exactly what's going on here. I know that a fight is about to take place but I've never watched such a thing in my whole life. Somewhere, on my left, I catch the sight of a guy who doesn't seem to be one of those who hang about in Zone 25. I say this because he was pretty well dressed, he was shaved and neatly combed unlike the primitive who live in this damned zone. “Hey you, do you know who Griko is? I happened to be here in the middle of this crowd and if I'm here I should at least know what's going on.” “Well, pal, If you don't have the slightest idea who Griko is you are definitely new around here”, the guy answered me in a friendly voice. “Griko is the khamal who has been winning all the fights for the last two months. No cyborg has defeated him. He is as strong as an ox, this ugly face. Once, with one blow he pulled off a cyborg's right arm. It's a frightful creature, pal. He'll give you creeps, I tell you!” the guy told me. So, this Griko is a cyborg-killing machine... a living machine. Damned if I understand how a khamal can kill no less than twenty-four cyborgs in a couple of months. On the back of it, these, the cyborgs are not beings and yet this animal beats the hell out of them! Devilish trick! I can hardly wait to see it for myself. However I think the fight will start soon. Listening to all these scamps shouting and taking into account that the ring has already been set, the fight will begin sooner than I've thought. “You, man, give me some water!” I heard a voice near my left shoulder. I turn and see a ten years old kid staring at me and waiting for me to give him what he has asked for. “How on earth do you think I can give you water! You...don't you see I have nothing on me?” “Give me ten kharzes then and I'll slip out to buy you some water too” said the kid to me. Like heck! He's telling me to give him money to buy water as if he would ever come back with it. “Leave me the hell alone! I don't have money on me!” I shouted at him. I wish I could drink some water. I would give right now 20 kharzes for a drop of cold water. I'm so warmed up ‘cause of the crowd! Who the hell Click here to read the rest of this story (88 more lines)
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Dark River has 3 active stories on this site.
Profile for Dark River, incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.