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How much do you love me? (standard:science fiction, 3667 words) | |||
Author: Richard J Cobain | Added: Jul 30 2003 | Views/Reads: 3530/2368 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
In the near future a young man struggling through life thinks he has found the perfect solution when he hears about a new reality show looking for contestants.But the show is not all that it seems. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story offence. When he got to the apartment complex and saw the looks on the faces of his neighbours he knew the answer but some part of him still couldn't believe that people would do such a thing. As he ran up the 10 flights of stairs he began to get nervous, as he had never been before. It took him almost a minute to open the door because his hands were shaking so badly. When he got inside he suddenly felt like everything was happening in slow motion. His wife was kneeling down on the floor of the hall with tears streaming down her face; she had a large bruise under one of her eyes. Her clothes were covered in blood and she was clutching something to her chest. She was rocking back and forward and seemed to be in some kind of trance, her eyes met his but she showed no sign of recognition. He gently took from her what she had been holding. The body of his baby daughter. She had been shot in the face at point blank range and was totally unrecognisable. Something died in him that moment as the reality of what had just happened began to seep in. He dropped the body, it seemed to take an age to hit the ground. Jackson couldn't believe it; he couldn't believe what they had done. They had enforced the law to the full extent; they had taken Jessie away from him. The bastards had broken into his home beat up his wife and killed his baby. She was never going to grow up, never going to laugh or cry ever again. Rachel tried to say something but she couldn't speak. “A year and three months” Jackson sobbed as he fell to the floor. “She was only a year and three months and now she's gone”. The next few months were kind of a blur in Jackson's memory, even doing the smallest things seemed to sap his energy and sometimes he wondered why he got out of bed at all. He was also in a deep state of depression, which he tried to hide from his wife and regularly found himself crying for no apparent reason. Somehow they managed to get on with their lives although the memory of what had happened to Jessie was constantly on their minds. All that was about three years ago and now they had Rion to keep them busy. He had come about two years after Jessie's death and although they never talked about it, his arrival had eased their pain slightly. Jackson put Rion back to bed and he was asleep in seconds. “Not a care in the world” laughed Jackson. He didn't laugh that much anymore so this surprised him. Rachel was working in the bar for a pig of a boss who slapped her ass every time she walked by and all that was for just a few credits a week. Jackson wanted her to quit that job but she wouldn't as they needed the money “and anyway” she used to say, “a crap job is better than no job at all”. She was right about the first part but wrong about the second in Jackson's opinion. But they did really need the money. Jackson had been out of work for a long time not for the want of trying and now things were really tight. He decided to go out for a walk and look for work so he picked the sleeping Rion up in his arms dropped him in with one of his neighbours and left the complex. It was very cold outside and Jackson saw a young junkie lying on the pavement trying to grab people's legs feebly as they walked by. He looked vaguely familiar but then again Jackson had sold a lot of drugs to a lot of people and he had no doubt that this guy had been a client at some stage. When Jackson passed him the junkie said “Give me your coat motherfucker”. “Go fuck yourself trip head” Jackson responded. “I've got a laser pointed at you mister”. “Junkies like you can't afford lasers”. With that the man dived at Jackson bearing a small knife. Jackson saw this coming and broke the junkies nose with a hard punch. He fell to the ground clutching his face. “You bastard” he was sobbing through a face full of blood. “You broke my fucking nose” Jackson actually felt sorry for the junkie now. Although he probably would have killed Jackson to get a few credits he was still a human being and people were walking over him in the street like he was a piece of shit. Jackson would have given him a credit but he hardly had one himself so he walked on trying to block the junkie's sobs out of his head. As he walked through the crowded slums he began to think about his situation. He had a wife and baby to feed and there was very little money coming in. “Things are getting a bit desperate” he said out loud when someone bumped into him from the side. He turned to see who it was but there were so many people around him coming and going that it could have been anyone. He patted his coat to make sure his wallet was still there and it was, not that there was anything worth steeling in it anyway but it had been a present from his mother last year. He looked up at the huge clock on Presters Tower saw that it was getting late and headed back for home. Rachel would kill him if she found out he had left Rion with old miss Griers. He was hanging up his coat after returning home when he heard a rustling noise, which obviously came from his coat pocket. This was odd however because Jackson was sure he had nothing in that pocket when he left. He reached in and took out a piece of printed-paper that read. HAVE YOU BEEN DIAGNOSED? CAN'T GET ANY WORK? GOT A FAMILY TO FEED WITH NOT ENOUGH MONEY COMING IN? WHY NOT BE A CONTESTANT ON THE NEW GAMESHOW "HOW MUCH DO TOU LOVE ME". A TOP PRIZE OF 2000 CREDITS COULD BE YOURS. DON'T DELAY. APPLY AT THE WYNDER BUILDING GERMAIN STREET 7TH FLOOR. HAPPYNESS IS JUST A GAMESHOW AWAY. “2000 credits, Jesus Christ” exclaimed Jackson who had never seen that much money in his life. “That would feed my family for years” he gasped. Just then Rachel walked in. Jackson shoved the paper into his pocket. “What is it?” she asked when she noticed him looking strangely at her. “Nothing” he replied with a smile, “Just my horoscope, it said my luck would change”. The next day while his wife was at work Jackson left Rion with slightly senile but harmless miss Griers again and headed for the Wynder building. It was situated on a massive commercial estate well out of the slums. Jackson who didn't come here often had to shield his eyes from the terrific glare of all the neon lights. “This place must be made of money,” gasped Jackson as he stood outside. The building was at least eighty storeys high. He had never seen anything like it before. There was something about it however that he just didn't like, the building had an almost sinister appearance for some reason. It looked like it would be more than happy to chew you up and spit you out. It took him some time to pluck up the courage to go inside. The interior was even more extravagant than the exterior. Glass sparkled everywhere and very expensive looking pictures lined the walls. He took the elevator up to the seventh floor with two men in expensive suits that judging by their expressions thought that he was the shit on their shoes. The seventh floor was even more expensively furnished than the first. The ceiling was studded with diamonds and the legs of the numerous couches seemed to be made of gold. “Holy fuck” muttered Jackson in awe as he walked up to a large desk where a pretty young woman was on the phone and painting her nails at the same time. She had the new contact lenses he had heard about that made you're eyes continually change colour. He found it oddly disturbing and couldn't look at her anymore. It took her a long time to finish the phone call but when she did Jackson approached her. “Um hello” he said. “Yes” she replied very impatiently. “I'm here to apply as a contestant on this new show,” muttered a very embarrassed Jackson showing her the piece of paper. For some reason she made him feel like he was ten years old. “Oh i see,” she said. “Wait here a moment”. She then left the desk and went through a nearby door. While he was waiting for her a man passed him who looked familiar. Jackson couldn't place the man however, how could he know anyone working in this kind of place anyway. He thought nothing of it. Eventually she came back and said “Mr Jesop will see you now”. “Ok” said Jackson and walked through the door. Mr Jesop was sitting behind a golden table, which sparkled commandingly. He was a small fat man and Jackson found it funny that such a small man should have such a big desk; it was obviously an ego thing. “Sit down mister eh” “Trent” Jackson replied “whatever” sighed Jesop. Jackson had known the guy for a total of five seconds and he already hated the bastard's guts. He was a tiny, hideously ugly man but something about his body language gave the impression that he could have you killed in a minute if he wanted to. Jackson sat down slowly. “So you want to be on the show”. “Yes i do”. “Well today is your lucky day”. “What do you mean?” Jackson asked. “I mean you're on the next show this afternoon”. “Seriously” exclaimed Jackson, “the next show, I thought I wouldn't be on for days”. “Just one more thing Mr Trent, could you sign this form”. “What's it about?” asked Jackson. “Oh nothing important, just sign it quickly and we'll be on our way”. Jackson took the pen with a shrug and signed the piece of paper. Out of the corner of his eye he thought Jesop was grinning but it was probably just his imagination. “Come on then we don't have much time the first episode of the day should be over soon”. And with that he led Jackson through a different door into a new room and told him to sit on the couch and wait. “So what's this show about anyway?” asked Jackson after a long silence. “You'll see soon enough” replied Jesop. Jackson didn't question him any further but he didn't like the answer. A few moments later a man was brought through another door crying, loud cheers could be heard from what must have been the studio. “What happened him?” asked Jackson. “He lost,” said Jesop. Jackson was beginning to get quite nervous when someone spoke to Jesop through his earpiece and he turned to Jackson and said “its time mister Trent”. Jackson got to his feet and walked through the door that the crying man had come out of and was nearly deafened by the roars of the studio audience. Some were cheering him but most were booing him. They were going ballistic and looked like a pack of wild animals. “Jesus they take this pretty seriously” he muttered to himself as he stared back at the live crowd. “Over here mister Trent” the host said. He was a tall man dressed in a very expensive looking three-piece suit with a big fake smile on his face. “So” he said, “ before we begin tell us about yourself mister Trent?” “Well” mumbled Jackson. “My name is Jackson Trent, I'm married with a baby boy called Rion and i need these credits”. “That's about it I guess”. “There you go ladies and gentleman,” screamed the host and the crowd once more erupted with noise. When it died down eventually he spoke again, “Well i guess it's time to play” at which the audience roared on cue “how much do you love me?” And once more the cheering and booing began although Jackson noticed that there was less cheering this time. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a banner that read “eat shit Jackson” but that was ridiculous they couldn't have known that he'd be next on the show, he had only been in the building half an hour. With that the host brought Jackson to the centre of the studio and pressed a button on a keypad. The crowd started cheering like mad and Jackson began to get the feeling that things weren't going right. Suddenly there was a loud mechanical noise and two massive glass cylinders covered with cables rose up from the floor. His wife and child were in the one on his left and his parents were in the other. “What the fuck is this?” cried Jackson but no one heard him over the screaming of the live audience. Jackson ran over to the cylinder, which contained his wife. She was holding Rion in her arms and both of them were crying. “Rachel” he screamed over and over. He suddenly remembered what Jesop had said to him a few minutes ago when the crying man had gone by “he lost” what the hell did that mean? What was going on here? After the noise had died down the host spoke up. “This is the game Jackson, one of these capsules contains your lovely wife Rachel and your boy Rion”. “The other contains your parents”. “What is this?” begged Jackson but the host carried on. “There is a keypad in front of you with two buttons”. “The button on your left will electrify Rachel and Rion and the right button will electrify your parents”. “All you have to do to win those credits is choose which capsule to electrify”. “What?” shouted Jackson in disbelief? “You've got sixty seconds Jackson starting now”. And with that he began to laugh hysterically. The crowd meanwhile were roaring mindlessly. He looked from his wife to his parents and back again. This was crazy. What was he going to do? It was murder after all no matter which way you looked at it. “30 seconds” cried the host. Sweat was pouring down Jackson's face. He needed the money but how was he supposed to make a decision like this, it was playing God. He looked at his parents, the ones who brought him into this world. They too were crying and begging him not to do it. He couldn't do this to the only people he loved. “10 seconds left Jackson,” screamed the host. The crowd's roars became deafening. He had gone through enough pain in his life with Jessie's death; he didn't want to go through that again. It wasn't worth it. “Times up my friend” said the host at which the audience broke into a fit of booing. “You people are fucking crazy,” Jackson shouted at them. “I'm not going to do it”. He turned to face the host who had an apologetic look on his face. “I'm not doing it,” he said. “Fuck you, I'm going to take my family and get the fuck out of this place”. “Well that's too bad Jackson, you see you didn't make a choice so you get the booby prize”. Jackson's blood suddenly went very cold. “What are you talking about?” he whimpered. “The thing is friend” said the host “if you don't make a choice in the sixty seconds not only do you lose your credits but both cylinders get electrified”. “Read the small print in future chump”. “No” Jackson screamed “no” but to the absolute delight of the audience the host pushed both buttons and all the people Jackson cared about were instantly killed in one foul swoop. Their bodies lay charred and smoking and very much dead. He dropped to his knees with tears streaming down his face, not being able to take his eyes away from the smoking corpses that a minute ago had been living breathing human beings. “Not again” he sobbed “dear God not again”. Somewhere very far away Jackson could hear the crowd roaring for more blood and the host was telling the good people at home not to forget to watch the next exiting episode of “how much do you love me”?. THE END. Richard J Cobain. Tweet
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