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O' The Lincoln Murders

Varamyr
Princess of Pop

Varamyr schreef:

Gelieve niet te reageren als lezer zijnde. Dit is een O' tussen HarryStyles en Varamyr.
Daarnaast kunnen vulgair taalgebruik en erotische stukken aan bod komen. Wees daarvoor gewaarschuwd.

Elio Beaumont - 21 - Member of the Children of Henry Ford

Lincoln, Montana, a place derived from Theodore John Kaczynski, also known as the 'Unabomber'

Anoniem
Popster

HarryStyles schreef:

Milo Austin Cain
22

Flight from those who hunt us
and pray they never hurt us.
Escape their hands and never stop
keep your pace, or blood will drop.

Varamyr
Princess of Pop

Varamyr schreef:
T E D K A C Z Y N S K I, O U T O F H I S M A N I F E S T O;

‘’Industry and technology have caused physical suffering in the third world, and psychological suffering everywhere. We are increasingly losing our ability to have real choices or make real achievements. Human dignity and freedom have been replaced by the feeling of security provided by following the rules required to support a technological society.
‘’If the system fails, we will suffer, but not nearly as much as if the system continues to grow. A revolution is needed to overthrow the system that controls us. It might be a gradually peaceful revolution or a sudden violent one, but it will not be a political revolution. Political victories are short-lived, compromise the ideal, and eventually alienate supporters. The revolution must be global. Even if it doesn't immediately succeed in all nations, those that resist will likely be dictatorships, which are typically inefficient and likely to break down in the near future.’’

It was a hot summer evening when he saw the old men bring their last victim into the wooden cabin. He was bewildered, but not surprised. It wasn’t their first time taking people out of their industrial lives and translocating them to the mountains in such a short period of time.
He didn’t hear a sound coming from the dorm where he and all his relatives slept. He saw the old men laughing, the ones who had come up with the idea and were excited about executing it, but in the dorm, where he and all his relatives slept, it was all quiet. Men weren’t at all as enthusiastic as they seemed to be.
‘Elio, are you going to bed? We need you in good shape tomorrow.’
‘Yes, mother.’ He closed the curtains and embraced the darkness again.
Tomorrow the hunting would begin.

Anoniem
Popster

HarryStyles schreef:
The feeling of safety was long gone, the feeling of having certainty in life, of waking up the next day, all disappeared like a bunch of snow held up above a fire like an old lady would hold her kettle above the fire in her fireplace. Ever since he was taken fear had been the prime emotion running through his body. He had been unsuspecting, going about his day, then the hit came, knocking him out cold. Milo awoke in a moving vehicle, a burning and stinging pain on the side of his body, the smell of burned flesh had filled the room. His hands and ankles were tied, a blindfold keeping him from seeing. The feeling of bodies pressed against his own sent shivers down his spine. Where he was or what was happening was something Milo felt unsure about.
The vehicle came to a sudden stop, voices were heard, Milo was even certain he could hear laughter. What kind of psycho would be laughing? He couldn’t imagine the kind of crazy someone would have to be to laugh at a situation like this. The sound of doors opening followed, a soft summer breeze hitting Milo’s sweaty body, making him gasp for fresh air, filling his lungs up with oxygen. Piece per piece they were taken out, everyone who had been lying with Milo in the back of this vehicle. He was unsure how many there had been, couldn’t imagine it being a lot, a big group going missing at once would pull way too much attention, right?
Elio’s body was picked up by two strong arms, put down outside and pulled to God knew where. It wasn’t until he was pushed into what he assumed to be a cell that the cuffs were taken off of his wrists and ankles. The door closed and Milo lifted hia blindfold, not believing what he saw. Together with about a dozen others there he was, sitting in some wooden cabin, God knew where or why they had been taken there. All Milo knew for sure was that he was not coming out of this alive.

Varamyr
Princess of Pop

Varamyr schreef:
He raised his head, torn from sleep. The sun was already high and forced blinding golden rays through the shutters, penetrating the dorm with tentacles of light. Elio shaded his eyes with his hand in an unnecessary, instinctive reflex which he had never managed to shake off - all he needed to do, after all, was narrow his pupils into vertical slits.
He took the blanket off his body and tilted his head to the right side of the bed, only to see that his mother had already left the bed. Was is that late?
He stood up from the bed, put on some clothes and walked out of the dorm. His girlfriend had been waiting for him, as she headed straight for him the minute he had exposed himself outside. He wanted to run, but couldn't help but face her. Oh, how he hated her.

‘So, are you excited for what’s about to happen?’
Her smile was big. He raised an eyebrow.
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘Well, that wasn’t quite what I expected. Why are you so grumpy?’
He couldn’t quite understand why she decided to represent herself as this enthusiastic young woman, as she told him just a few days ago that she was horrified by the idea of killing people for the greater good.
He saw her father walking towards them and he changed his attitude right away. In those few minutes he was excited about the murders, - or rather the hunting, for her father did not want to hear the word ‘murders’ ever again. A week ago he told him and his relatives that there was no such thing as murdering people who contribute a great deal to mass production. The selected professors and left politicians weren’t going to get killed with intent. It was God’s call.
‘Oh, yeah, I didn’t sleep so well this night. But, no, I do am excited. Just nervous, I haven’t killed anyone before.’
‘You have hunted deers before, didn’t you?’ Her father stood all of a sudden next to him and smiled.
Elio nodded. He knew exactly where Michael was heading to with his question. He knew he would say that killing human beings wasn’t any more difficult than killing deers or bunnies. But he didn’t. Isabella’s father attention was somewhere else and he was gone before he knew it. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was afraid of him, even though he was like a father to him.

Anoniem
Popster

HarryStyles schreef:
Sleepless nights weren't all that bad, usually Milo was able to distract himself in his work, busy himself with a conversation or just drown himself in whatever bottle he had nearby him. Sleepless nights where you were locked inside a cabin God knows where on earth weren't as nice. The entire night Milo hadn't been able to close any nights. Being stuck in a small room with about eleven other people wasn't something he found himself enjoying. He felt suffocated, like at all times a brick was placed on top of his chest, keeping him from breathing properly. Everyone was scared, he knew that, everyone inside this small room was terrified for what was about to happen. They were all well aware that wherever they were, they weren't going to come out alive.
Milo caught himself finding comfort in this thought, finding comfort in the idea of dying soon. He wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps it was the fear that traumatizing things would be happening here, and the idea of dying was nicer than the idea of escaping but having to live with the memories. Or maybe it was just Milo's desperate attempt in calming himself down. Finding comfort in the thought of death wasn't something he did often, anyway.
By the time morning had arrived there was an odd calmness surrounding everyone in the cabin. Small streaks of sunlight found their way through the creaks of the wooden walls, bringing some light into the small room.
A girl in the corner was praying silently to God, but Milo doubted God was going to be of any help at all. A man standing straight across from Milo was staring at him. Milo recognized him from his university. The man was a renowned professor in physics, Milo always held some sort of respect for him. It felt extremely weird seeing him in a situation like this.
Voices coming from outside where what brought a complete silence back in the cabin, even the praying girl had stopped saying grace. Whoever the people outside were, Milo knew he should fear them. Whatever it was they were going to do to him, to them, it couldn't be anything good.

Varamyr
Princess of Pop

Varamyr schreef:
Back then he didn't know he took part in one of the biggest massacre in the United States of America. Back then he didn't know he was born into a cult that had scarved him for life.

Children younger than sixteen were held in the wooden cabins. Michael didn't want them to have any knowledge of what was about to happen, as he thought they were too young to experience such things.

WIP

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