Sonic: Sketchy

Concept by M.C. Griffin

Story by Sean Catlett

Monday

Fuck. I hate it when that happens, when you wake up and for a moment you don't remember what exactly happened that got you there. I hate it because it gives you the false hope that you've started your life over, with a clean slate. You then have to power to correct mistakes you made in the past. For once, you feel an extreme happiness . . . . . . . .

Then realization hits you. There is no going back. There is no `New Beginning.' You're stuck with your shitty life and what you've made it out to be.

That's how I woke up. That's how my new day started. I woke up hopeful, then miserable. Like a big tease. I wasn't starting over. I was still in Robotnik's world, still trapped in his little Truman Show. Still stuck in a body that was half flesh, half plastic, and all insane. Still stuck with the same memories of betrayal and pain. Still stuck with the voices in my head that are always with me. All of this came to me at once, and I slumped my shoulders. I thought if I quickly went back to sleep I may dream of a world that doesn't so closely resemble . . . . . .

. . . wait, what? There were bed sheets on me . . . . . . . .

I felt the surface I was laying on. Straw. Didn't I fall asleep (I mean, pass out) in a grass field? I looked around me. My surroundings were anything BUT grassy fields and deep blue artificial skies. I was in the inside of a hut.

I lifted up the covers and looked at myself. My shoes were taken off. "Shit!" I said out loud. If they were stolen, then that meant half of my speed was gone. I swung my legs out of the covers and was about to get up to look for them when I saw through the window what was outside.

It looked like an orange fox sitting on top of a grassy knoll, but . . . . . . . it had TWO tails. Freaky. I started to wonder why I was stuck in David Lynch's world. "Arrrgh, focus!" I tried not to be distracted by what was outside. I needed to find my shoes. Without them, I would be significantly hindered in battle . . . . . . . . unless . . . . . . .

Unless I was already dead, and this was the supposed afterlife. That would explain a lot of things, like why I'm sitting in a hut instead of next to Scratch's beheaded corpse.

I sighed. Well, if I was dead, I might as well talk to that fox-freak.

I found the door to the hut and walked outside, barefoot. I artificial sun hit my face with radiance and heat that disgusted me. The lush green grasses flowed in the direction of the wind. If I was alive, I was still in the Green Hill Zone. I trudged up the small knoll and stood behind the two-tailed freak.

"Hey." I said.

The fox turned around quickly. I must've startled . . . . . . . her. Yeah, I'm just as surprised as you. I didn't expect the freak to be a girl either. She had big blue eyes and the smallest little snout. She was really kind of cute . . . . . . . If you go for that sort of thing.

"Where are my shoes?" I got right to the point.

She blinked at me. "Oh . . . . . . . um, sorry, they're in the cupboard, third drawer from the top."

Her look lingered on me. It was making me a little uncomfortable. So, I kneeled down next to her.

"What?!" I said loudly. She jumped a little.

"Oh! Sorry for staring," she said. "Just . . . . . . . never mind."

I didn't want to leave just yet. I wanted some answers.

"How did I end up here?" I asked.

"I found you unconscious and bleeding in a field. You looked like you needed a place to stay, not to mention someone to dress the three large holes in your stomach."

I looked down. For the first time I noticed the hay patches glued onto me. That was nice of her. I only saw one bed in the place. She must've slept on the floor. And the patches weren't needed.

"Fixed your shoes, too. They were a little beat up."

I used this excuse to sit down next to her. I was returning the favor of hospitality. I also thought a little bit about what her reaction was to seeing Scratch and Grounder's bodies. But she didn't seem like she wanted to mention it.

Off in the distance, below the rising sun and the edge of the trees, there was a lake with a bridge. Every 5 seconds or so, trout, steel trout, would pop out of the water and sail into the air a couple of feet before coming back down with a splash.

The trout, although they were robotic like the others, still needed air like the others as well. They could hold their breath for awhile, but had to come up for air sometime. Ah, well, they're just stupid fish anyway.

We both stared at the rising sun coming over the forest in the distance. Even though we were looking at the same thing, I knew we were seeing two different things. I saw lies, she saw beauty. She saw life beginning, I saw life wasted. I suppose ignorance is bliss, or that it's better not to dwell on the pointlessness or futility of life, but I was out of that frame of mind. These people were slaves and they didn't even know it. Someone needed to tell them.

Time to get to work. "Have you ever heard of a town or village called `Knothole?'"

She hesitated. "Yeah. Why?"

"I need to get there. Can you point me in the general direction?" I was hoping I was within at least ten miles of the place.

"No, but I'll take you there." She got up off the ground and dusted herself off. I ran inside real fast and got my shoes. I came back out next to her and started putting my shoes on. While I was doing that, I decided to test myself.

"By the way," I said. "My name's Sonic." I reached out and shook her hand. She pumped it with ease.

"My name's Sarah. Sarah Prower." I cringed a little as I got up.

"What kind of name is that?"

" . . . . . . .what do you mean?"

"It doesn't tell me anything about you. Do you `Sarah' something, or is `Sarah' the sound you make when you punch somebody?! What kind of goddamn name is `Sarah!?'"

"Hey, what is your problem?! And what kind of name is `Sonic', huh?! Your name isn't any better."

"At least my name makes sense. I run fast, so fast, in fact, I make a Sonic boom when I zoom past."

She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow at me.

"Well . . . . . . . I admit it's exaggerating a little, but that's the point of it. I run fast, so my name implies that I run REALLY fast. It’s supposed to inspire a slight fear in the enemy."

"Well, I'm pretty fast myself," She said, bragging a little.

"Fast, eh?" Humoring her, I thought hard, running through name after name in my mind. "Nah. Can't think of a measure of distance that sounds feminine enough." I thought some more. "Ok, I got a name for you. You're `Tails`, ok?"

She looked at her two tails, then turned back to me.

"No, I don't think so. Look, just call me Sarah. And I can live with calling you `Sonic', I guess." "So, you gonna show me the way to Knothole, or what, TAILS?" I stressed her new name on purpose, just to anger her.

She groaned. "No, you're not listening. I'm SARAH, Sarah Prower. Call me that or I don't show you way to where you want to go."

I crossed my arms. "Come on, Tails, we're wasting time." I started jogging in place. "Pick up the pace, kiddo."

She let loose a heavy sigh. "This way," she mumbled.

`Man, she gave up way too easy,' I thought to myself. I started jogging slowly, so she could keep up with me easily. Those toothpick legs of hers didn't look like they could carry her very fast. Going easy on her might be a good idea, if I expected her to help me . . . . . .

Suddenly, an orange blur went by me. Immediately, I realized that it was Tails, using her two extra appendages as a helicopter. She traveled with a speed that surprised even me.

`Finally,' I thought. `A challenge.'

I allowed myself to speed up slightly, admiring her for having the gall to tango with me. Quickly, I ran after her, leaving a cloud of dust behind me, as well as the secluded area we were just at.

That was the last time I ever saw that hut. And oddly enough, that was the last time she ever saw it too.

**********

"Sir, we have a problem." Snively ran up to Robotnik in the Casino Nights Zone. He was waving papers around in the air. "Grounder has failed to report in."

Fat, but not that fat, Robotnik was. It was from lack of exercise that made him that way. But he was more tall than fat. Towering. Add to that, his thick black lab coat accentuated his stomach even more. His face was always half covered by the collar of the coat, and one sleeve was longer than the other to hide his metal arm.

*Looks at Cream/Cheese picture for the millionth time* The rest of the commentary shall be in script form now. No, wait, that’s stupid. Almost as stupid as my Yoda-speak at the beginning of the last paragraph. Really, Robotnik is tall. The fact that his belly sticks out is moot. I was such a bastard back then… wait…

Eggman turned away from the casino table where he was just then flirting with a waitress. "Can't it wait," he said, more than a little irritated. "I'm a little busy . . . . . . . . ." He motioned with his head towards the foxy waitress in the corner, who smiled at him from across the room. The lights from the ceiling and slot machines reflected her shadow all around her, but Robotnik was more focused on the fur-tight outfit she had on.

"As you wish, sir, but how would you like me to deal with this situation?" Snively held a pen to his paper.

"I'll have it taken care of, don't worry about it. Meanwhile, you finish work on the project. That's all you should worry about for now.'

Snively finished scribbling in his notepad. He looked up again and saw Robotnik motioning for the nicely tailed waitress to come over to him. Snively was told little of the Dr.'s plan, but it was enough for him to get the general gist of it; he didn't think it would work.

"Forgive me, sir, but weren't you just in bed with someone not one hour ago?"

"This has been a stress-full week, my dear boy. You'll understand when you're about 21." Robotnik motioned him away with his hand. "Get back to work."

Snively scoffed. "I'm 35," he mumbled as he started walking out of the casino. When he reached the exit, he looked back at Robotnik, well on his way with flirting with the female fox. The Eggman was at least 4 times the size of her. Snively shook his head in disgust.

"Crime against nature." He mumbled to himself, and walked the rest of the way out of the casino, ignoring the flashing lights and noises of Robotnik's little getaway.

**********

As much as I hated to admit it, I was having a tough time keeping up with Tails. She could fly pretty damn fast, and was almost beating me on our trek through the grassy fields. I could faintly see where we were headed. Faint, sinewy smoke was rising over the next couple of hills.

That sight made me feel good, seeing something that Robotnik wasn't responsible for making. It fueled my drive to get out of this place, as well as gave me motivation to speed up. I dimly heard Tails panting behind me as I inched ahead of her.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of sun reflecting off metal. "AHH" I thought. Quickly, I dove at Tails and brought her down to the ground. The tall grass would keep us well hidden.
"Aw, I wanted to see which one of us has the bigger dick . . . . ." she said sarcastically.

"SHHHH!" I looked above the flowing grass we were hidden in. A Buzzbomber was on patrol off in the distance. Tails looked up over the grass to see.

She sighed in half relief, half disgust. "Geez, what's wrong with you?" She started to stand up. I pulled her back down.

"Keep DOWN?!" I couldn't believe her. I figured her for a smart gal, but now she was steadily convincing me that she was a ditz, like the kind the Dr. likes to go after and hire in his casino. I wonder if she sent in an application.

The Buzzbomber in the distance reversed direction and disappeared into the trees. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Beautiful, aren't they," Tails said, lying down in the grass.

"No . . . . . . . they aren’t."

She looked at me incredulously. "Of course they are! Where would we be without them?" I just stared at her. "I suppose you wouldn't understand, being that . . . . . . . . . ."

So it was true. Rotor (or Boomer) and his kind DID think those things were Demigods. I guess I had been in denial, that no species could be that stupid, but these things ARE Robotnik's own creations. You can't expect much of them. But then again, I'm his creation as well . . . . .

"So . . . . .," I started, "tell me about them." And so begins the mostly pulled out of my ass explanation for the religion. Oh well. I tried my best, which wasn’t very good.

**********

"In the beginning, when the world was just a dark hole, the Gods decided to create life other than their own. After many millennia of arguing, they all agreed to make fragile creatures, the same kind that you see today. One flaw that these creatures had, among many, was that they could not look upon the deities that had created them, for it would destroy them, pulling them into inexistence. The creatures, longing to be in their creator's lights, were unhappy. So, out of pity, all of the gods decided to make stronger, more beautiful creatures, calling them Demigods, to keep the creatures happy. These Demigods, half mammal and half God, could walk among the mortal while still being able to gaze upon their creators. They were not plagued by the same emotions as regular creatures, for Demigods had no desire to live in paradise. Occasionally, the Gods would call upon visits to see how their different worlds were doing.

"But soon, life in paradise became lonely and tedious for the Gods, for they had no one to keep them company. So, in their infinite wisdom, the Gods made the creatures a deal that could guarantee the creatures entry into paradise. In a message delivered by one of the Demigods, the proposition was that prices for eternal happiness were only two conditions: one, the Demigods were to live in Paradise on a more permanent basis, and two, the creatures would become mortal.

"The deal was made, and it has been that way. Whenever the Gods need someone to talk to, they send a Demigod to bring an individual to paradise, for all eternity . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . ." And so it was . . . . The Ocarina of Time!!! The second dots were a bonus.

**********

" . . . . . . . . and how long has THIS been going on?!" I couldn't believe my fuckin'
ears.

"We don't know. The one who's been here the longest was our Monsignor, and he's . . . . .." She looked at me. ". . . . . he's dead." She almost had a look of fear in her eyes.

"Hey, I think the coast is clear," I said to Tails, snapping her out of her trance. "Lead the way."

She twirled her tails, hovering in place. "After you," She put simply.

After stretching my legs, I was off. She kept a close distance behind me, but only because I let her. I assumed it was to keep me going in the right direction, but for some reason I felt as if she was keeping me in close sight. I mean, she was supposed to realize that any attack against me would be an attempt in futility. The mere possibility of me falling captive to her was almost non-existent. Surely Tails should have by now realized this. She must have seen the two bodies of Scratch and Grounder lying next to me. If I could do that to them, imagine what I could do to her.

But . . . . . . . . she barely even mentioned finding other bodies. And it would seem like it was something worth mentioning. It's a sight you don't see everyday, so why was she being so quiet about it? I was not 2 feet from either of them. She would have to have seen them. It was. . . . . . . weird. As if . . . . . .

Almost like she was keeping it away. Like it wasn't an accident that she didn't mention it to me.

I looked back at her. Tails had her eyes lowered to the ground as she was flying, not a smart thing to do. She looked as if she felt guilty about something . . . . . . . or that she was questioning herself.

. . . . . . . . . . what the hell is going on?

The village of Knothole came into view over the rise. Then again, it was a really shitty map.

**********

Is this happening?

Is this real? Of course it is.

But if so, why aren't I happy. I've heard enough stories and watched enough movies to know that at least someone should be happy. It's usually the star, the hero. He's either happy or dead at the end of the story. I am neither star nor hero, neither happy nor dead.

I did everything I was supposed to, everything I've learned. But now it all seems like pointless actions that have no effect or meaning. We were all better off ignorant . . . . . . . .

In the movies I've watched, in the experiences I've absorbed, in the things I've seen . .. . . . . . . . . . I haven't learned anything except that there is always conflict. There is never peace. You can never have peace, no matter how hard you try. There is always something beyond your control, and even if you have everything else in the world going right for you, there's still that one thing that holds you in place. It binds, it controls, it captures, it holds, all until you're dead . . . . . . . . . . . .

I should be happy or dead. That's all there is to it.

Why isn't it me that’s happy? Why is it that fucking Doctor instead of me? The first of the confusing, future monologues that will all tie everything together in the end. My favorite brainchild. And about here I start to develop a philosophy on life, whether or not it’s because of how my life was going or because of Fight Club, but either way, I inserted it into Sketchy.

**********

I didn't know there could be non-metal things. Not in this place. And yet . . . . . .

In the village of Knothole, you see, there are many things, all of which have a positive air about them. The huts, the exotic smells, the people . . . . . . . , even the trees, which even though are artificial, have a livelier touch to them. But something else is in the air as well . . . . . . . . . .

Ignorance.

Prolific, exhausting, blatant, euphoric ignorance. It bathed all the life in it's fattening, glazing essence. Happiness is cooked meat, glazed in ignorance, cooked for 2 hours. It fades the light of life to black, it's so thick. These people are living, and yet they walk around in Robotnik's world as if that isn't the slightest bit unusual. In a world ruled by machines. In this place, your only job is to provide energy to the fat one, Robotnik. A conscience doesn't matter. Well, it matters to me.

Fuck. That's it. I'm not holding the truth back anymore.

Tails had been leading me through the dirt roads to the center square ever since we had entered city limits. We were walking now, slowly, through the crowds and crowds of breeding animals. It looked like they had been going about their daily lives before I showed up.

Now they were all staring at me. Wide eyes. Jaws open. Carrying wood and other materials. All kinds of animals. The foxes didn't eat the rabbits.

I leaned over to Tails and whispered in her ear, "Who is your leader?"

"Sally. Sally Acorn."

" . . . . . stupid last name."

"At least she has one."

"Good point. Why is this Acorn lady the leader, by the way?"

"She's the oldest."

Made sense, I guess. The one with the most experience. "Take me to her."

"That's happens to be where we're going."

By now, the shock of seeing me was starting to wear off with the animals and the gossip was starting. Animals were running into huts and grabbing other animals to come out and see the freak walking the streets. And the blue Hedgehog that was walking next to her.

As I walked, I heard jeers from crowd, none of which weren't directed at me. I guess there's a thin line between animal and human nature.

Tails took them in stride, though, doing her best to ignore them. She looked like she had taken a lot of abuse over the years.

Me, however, all I got were ooo's and ahhhh's, and I didn't deserve them. I'm nothing special. To them, all I am is a new thing to keep their eyes on, to keep their minds occupied, so they don't start to question themselves. Without meaning to, I've contributed to the very thing I'm fighting against.

I suck at this hero thing.

We finally made it to Sally's hut. I started walking up the wooden steps when an animal, a half-breed fox/wolf, stopped me. He had his fur combed into a neat little curl at the end of his chest. Very clean looking. He spoke weird. I barely understood him.

*shrieks* OH MY GOD!! IT’S ANTIONE!! EEEEEEEE!!!!

"You can't go in there . . . . . ."

I pushed him out of the way. I heard his shrill scream as I wrenched open the door to the hut.

A 22-year-old squirrel sat on her bed across from me. She apparently had been reading a book when I barged in. Now, she was storming towards me and yelling. I hardly heard her, though. I was absolutely stricken silent by her beauty; the way her tail moved as she walked, the color of her eyes, the slight twitching of her nose, and her voice . . . . . . which sounded angry.

"Oh please, none of you wear any clothes anyway," I assured her.

She stared at me angrily.

"Who are you?!"

I walked closer to her and held out my hand.

"Sonic."

She didn't take it.

"What the hell are you doing in here?!"

"You're the guy in charge, right?"

She glared at me. I guess I wasn't supposed to talk to her like that, but at this point I didn't care anymore. I needed to tell them before I lost my fortitude.

"Yeah, so?"

"Alright, we need to talk. I have a message for you and your people."

And here's where we both walk outside, and I deliver the good, or bad, news, depending on how you view it. No, really, I love Sally. She and Bunnie are the ones I have dreams about the most. Them and Sonic.

**********

In the Spring Yard Zone, something is re-awakening. The lights come back on, the tracks become wide again, the pits are re-activated, and a lone human stands in the middle of it, looking at his creation. He does not weep, but is only silently emotional.

He looks at a small picture of a special something. It is obviously very dear to him by the way he holds it, and by the way he looks at it. He turns it side to side and upside down, cherishing the moment in which he took the picture, and suddenly, he isn't standing in the Spring Yard Zone anymore, but somewhere in the past, in a room that no longer exists. He creates life, successful life, for the first time, instead of only destroying it. It's a special moment to him. The creation of his speaks to him, asks where it is.

It is frightened. Scared, and vulnerable. Small and insignificant in the large, bulbous, cruel world. So cute you just want to give it a hug. In the memory, the human picks up his new life and just holds it in his arms, telling it not to be afraid, that he is safe.

In the next few moments, the picture is taken.

And then the human is back in the present. He is still looking at the picture taken, of his creation, his life, his only son that is not his son, his and puts away the picture in one of his pockets. He checks around the Spring Yard Zone once again, then activates a communicator to the assembly line, the special assembly line, and orders it to be re-activated, along with his laboratory and his study.

It was four years ago when Robotnik shut these down, in hopes that he would never need to power them back on. Hopes that he had all he need to continue . . . . . . . But now is not the case. In four years, everything can change anything, and vise versa. Now he wants `em back on.

Robotnik wants nothing more than his son back. Or maybe he does want more. He may want to re-capture what he had with him.

And in order to do that . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Lots o’ dots.

**********

I walked outside of Sally's hut and stood on the steps. All the animals held their eyes on me. They had looks of wonder and excitement. They waited with baited breath for what I had to say.

Somewhere off in the distance, a bird chirped.

"Ok. Listen up, everybody. Wait until I finish before you start to ask questions. I will answer any of them you have, but first you have to listen." My voice carried to the edge of the village.

I'm not even thinking as I speak. It's like I know the words by heart.

"This world . . . . . . . isn't like you think it is. You are slaves and you don't even realize it."

And I recite the words that I spoke to Rotor all those years ago. The words that started all of this, in hopes that it would end one day, but it doesn't. It all keeps flowing, like a strong current, a tide of enslavement that drowns all it touches.

I just wanted to enlighten them.

Baby steps. Not this time.

Since it was basically a breeding pen for the animals, you could smell the sex in the air. I imagine a baby was born everyday here. Many mothers and fathers carried pups of kids. They were all in the crowd. Even though it was a small town, it was overpopulated. And more were on the way.

The words I spoke invoked all emotions in all who were listening. They blinked with surprise as they drank in every sentence, they gasped whenever I said `Fuck' or `Shit' without holding back in shame, but mostly I saw anger in their eyes and faces. I was badmouthing their religion, their beliefs. To them, the Gods and Demigods were sacrosanct, beyond criticism. Untouchable.

I was symbolically pissing in their holy water and shitting on their discs of bread. I burned their crosses and statues and churches and cardinals and saints. I know they need none of these to live, but everyone wants a benevolent creator.

But they didn't know the truth. I did.

And I finished. The fox/wolf I pushed over earlier crossed his arms in front of him and scoffed loudly. I told him he was a piece of fucking shit.

Sally, the leader, questioned not only my sanity, but also my intentions for spreading lies. She says how dare I come to their humble village and shake things up. Everyone, including her, was angry. I shouldn't have pissed on their religious objects, they say in so many words. They finally start jeering, shouting and spitting at me.

I spit back at them. They are confused and surprised at my boldness.

And through all of my explanation, Tails is leaning against a hut in the back of the crowd, alone, listening intently. A couple of animals turn around occasionally to sneer at her, or they spit at her too, and she does nothing. She concentrates on me speaking, nods her head a couple of times, and I realize that she's the only one getting what I'm saying.

Now Sally is asking her what she has to do with me. How she always liked Tails, and was sorry to see her abandon the town, but now is wondering if her feelings for her are rightly placed.

Tails' eyes go wide, and she starts to explain about me killing the Monsignor, along with a Demigod. I was hurt, she said. I needed to be brought here for questioning.

`So,' I think to myself. `that explains the reservations with me.' Tails was afraid of me, so she decided to bring me to Sally to find out what to do to me. After all, I killed someone.

Scratch. I expect there's one like him in every zone. He started the religion here. He was their Monsignor, their priest. He brainwashed them into thinking that the Buzzbombers and such were Demigods, and resisting them would be resisting paradise. I hate him even more now, although I'm glad he's dead.

Tails left the town for some reason or another. I'll never ask her, but I speculate the village citizens hate her because she's different. Her two tails. Those were the first things I noticed about her.

People can be cruel, and so can animals.

Anyway, Sally demands to know why I killed the Monsignor. I explain that he was a part of it. The conspiracy, the slavery, the lies.

She doesn't believe me. None of them do. Except for Tails, who stands silently in the back.

A rock sails from the crowd and hits me in the head. It hurts. A lot. Not all the hurt is physical.

And they all rush me.

**********

Snively was irritated. Robotnik was spending too much time in the Casino Nights Zone. Snively hadn't seen him for 6 hours yesterday. The only time that that happened was about 12 years ago, and he quickly regretted doings so a couple of months later . . . . . .

It was always a bad sign when Robotnik was gone for a while. 2 hours ago Snively last saw the Dr., and it was in the Casino where they spoke.

Snively spotted Robotnik leaning against the far wall, drinking specially prepared beverages and staring at the prostitutes around him. Snively walked over and started reading off of his clipboard.

"Sir, you ordered the Spring Yard Zone put back online?"

"Yes."

"As well as the labs and production line #39?"

"Yes."

"Well, you realize this will put us behind in our power production. The `Project' you want me to look after will be greatly effected."

"My dear boy, I already have it covered," Robotnik dismissed.

"Really?"

"Yes." Robotnik changed the subject. "Tell me, Snively. Do you like what you do?"

"Sir, honestly, I'd rather be shaving body hair off of a Mountain Bear, rather than looking after YOUR stupid power costing ideas."

Robotnik stared at Snively for a second. "Good. In a day or so, I will have a new job for you."

Snively was silent.

"That means I want everything I want to be done to be done by tomorrow morning." Snively was about to protest, but Robotnik raised his finger. "I will take care of the power deficiency, so don't worry about it." Robotnik sat back. "Was there . . . . . anything else?"

"Yes, sir, they're a scattering of `bots in the Green Hill Zone. It seems their link to the core was severed."

It was the Dr.'s turn to be silent.

"Sir . . . . . . . . Scratch and Grounder are most likely dead. They haven't responded to transmissions. And it was probably Grounder's transmitter being damaged that caused the `bots confusion."

Robotnik stared at the floor for a while. He finally spoke.

"Send a short transmission burst from a HoverUnit, alerting all Crabmeats to use their own power source to rally at the largest source of animals," Snively scribbled this all down, "and attack."

Snively stopped writing and looked up at the Dr.

"Attack, sir?"

"Yes. There's a chance our runaway is there, and I want to see what he is capable of."

"If you say so, sir."

As Snively was about to leave the bar, he turned to Robotnik and said, "Don't spend too much time here, sir. It can become addicting."

"Don't I know it, Snively. But it's been an hour since I last saw these girls."

Snively scoffed, shook his had, and left the bar.

"I'll miss some of them," the Doctor muttered when Snively was out of earshot.

As Snively was walking out of the Casino, two hedgehogs waved at him from a table. At first glance, they were indiscernible from each other, but upon an inspection of their attitudes, one realizes how different they really are.

Both were green, but one, even though he was older than the other, carried an air of immaturity about him. He had body piercings, with the spikes in his hair combed in a way that could be described as "punk."

"Snivvles!!!" they both said in unison. Snively left in disgust.

Both the Hedgehogs laughed their heads off, only one stopped long before the other did. The pierced one stopped laughing finally and slapped the other one in the shoulder.

"How about her," Manic said, pointing at a random prostitute. His eyes flashed with excitement.

"You kidding?" Ashura said. He was always the serious one.

"Yeah, you're right. She looks like she was run over with a steam roller." This caused the pierced green hedgehog to burst out laughing again. A weasel came over to their table.

"Both of you, shut the fuck up!!"

"Aw, we're just havin' a little fun." Manic poked Nack in the ribs.

"Don't touch me, Mutha Fucka!!! I don't know where you been!!"
Manic flipped Nack off.

"And anotha thing, every time you talk to long-nose like that, you make my immunity here thinner. Watch it, or my girls don't fuck you anymore!"

Manic was silent after that.

"Good. The Doc is over there in the corner, and I want his visit to be as pleasant as possible. If you two fuck it up, I fuck you both up."

Nack stormed off to talk to the Doc. Ashura looked at Manic.

"He's not bluffing this time."

"I know. Something's got him riled up, on edge, more than usual. And the doctor is coming around a lot more."

The two brothers are silent for a long time. They watch the prostitutes, especially Rouge and Bunnie, and soon were rating the others around them. Probably the best characters. Oh, and look how subtly I mention some others. Clever, neh?

**********

High.

I was backing away from the group of animals that were attempting to lynch me. Through the indiscernible shouts and curses, I heard two voices, begging the crowd to stop.

It was Sally and Tails. The only ones not rushing at me. Yelling at the top of their lungs for some show of sanity.

All to no avail. The crowd still came at me as I backed away. They smell blood. My blood. They want to smell more, not just the sex or ignorance in the air. The pungent smells.

I just wanted to enlighten them. And look where that got me.

Sally and Tails. It does make it sort of worth this to at least reach those two. I know I saw understanding in Tails' eyes when I spoke, and Sally must at least be intrigued by what I had said. Surely, since she is the oldest, Sally must have noticed that something with wrong with the world.

Rocks and dirt were being kicked and thrown at me. All of this is bullshit. I escape Robotnik's lair for THIS?! I memorize the computer files, kill E-102, Scratch, and Grounder for THIS?! To be stoned?

High.

The voice in my head is talking again, only louder. It's never been this loud before. I want to retreat from the herd of animals that don't want me here. Fuck `em if they don't want my help. But, no, the voice wants me to buzz saw them all in half. The voice says he hasn't seen any blood since yesterday. It is bored. Blood would look pretty flying across the artificial blue skies and landing on the lush green grasses.

I tell it that there is blood flying across the skies and grasses. But it's mine. The voice says it hurts for the blood to leave. It doesn't when it's someone else's. It'll be easy, it says. Act like you're going to run away, run back and the rest will be automatic. Like a gun. You are a gun, Sonic, waiting to be fired.

Indecision keeps me backing away from the crowd. I don't want to hurt any of them, yet I don't want to be hurt either.

But it's legal if it's self defense.

The last rock hurtles at my head and I punch it out of the air back at them. The rock exploded when it hit my hand and sent sharp shards back at them. It was a frail rock, and it hurt my hand. My knuckle bled. I ignored it and ran at the crowd of animals standing shocked because I fought back at them.

My hurting fist sailed at the nearest face I saw and I punched him square in the cheek bone. I'm not that strong, but it did sent him reeling. The next animal got a sharp kick in the knee. I put a lot of power behind it, and aimed straight for the animal's joint.

Snap.

The next and the next received a dose of pain. Whoever came near me. Sometimes I connected with a nose, other times a stomach. And although I could discern what I was hitting, I didn't know the person attached to it. All of the people in the crowd blurred together, so men or women didn't exist anymore. Neither did children. Hey, those little guys can throw too.

Soon, though, I was overpowered. I'm not invincible. I'm not a messiah. If I was, wouldn't have fought back. But I am fighting back. Fighting as a variety of hands grip my arms and legs and pulling me to the grass. Fighting as the different sized fists pound at my face and neck, attempting to knock me out. Fighting as the screams of accusation and pain grow in my ears. The voice also cries in pain.

Only it's my voice.

The animals are breaking their fists trying to hit me. The blue parts on my surface that looks like skin is actually hard, flexible plastic. Fingers crack against my skull and back. But once every five hits, the parts of me that are actually skin, like my stomach and the area around my mouth, are pounded and bleed. Both plastic and skin hurt like a bitch, but only one bleeds easier.

High.

The crowd has me now, pinned to the ground by their hands and feet, but they haven't decided what to do to me. Sally is saying that they keep me locked up.

"No cell we could make will hold him," The fox/wolf says. "I say we hang him."

The crowd let an uproarious cry "HANG HIM." The committee of judges, deciding my fate. The decision is made 100 in favor to 2 opposed. My vote isn't counted. I'm surprised Tails' was.

Filibuster. Sally tries to reason with the crowd. But they will not negotiate with heretics.

Snake eyes, I lose. It looks like I'm gonna be hung. And hung high.

High.

"I'm the leader," Sally says. "It's the way."

"The old ways can be questioned." Says the wolf/fox.

"Isn't that what I said?" I put out.

A punch to my teeth silences me. Again, I don't count in this trial.

Witches can only be killed by being hung or burned. And both have to first be blessed by a priest.

I killed theirs. They were at a loss. This is where the old ways are questioned. In a way, this is exactly what I told them to do. But they hate that they're doing what I told them to. So, they fake like I'm not here. They decide to carry me to a nearby tree, one furthest from the thicket of the forest and closer to the town. One up on a hill.

Before they carried me there, they tied my hands around my back. Tied my feet as well. And they dragged me, arms behind me, to the tree. It stood alone, on a grassy hill that overlooked the town, just like they said. Perfect day for a hangin'.

And all the while, Sally and Tails are watching with horror. Silent horror. This has never happened before, as long as Sally lived. Tails wasn't hung when she wanted to leave.

They have a noose made, and I start to wonder where all this strong rope comes from. It's too tight to be made from the trees. Too perfect, the only thing I've known to be too perfect.

It all seems like a dream, a pretty dream as the noose is slung over the highest, strongest overhanging branch of a tree. The noose is brought down over my head.

"Any last words, heathen?" The ugly mother fucker of a half breed, with his sickening fur curl, says in my face contemptuously.

I spat in his face and tried to bite him. Hey, it was all I could do. I twist and turn as the other end of the rope is pulled and pulled.

And I'm hung.

High.

A minute passes as the animals below me, some bleeding and holding their bodies where I hit them, shouting at me that I'll be in inexistence where I belong. Sally and Tails stand in the back and still watch that car crash that is my life. A horrible wreck. So horrible, you can't look away.

Another minute passes. Some of the shouting stops.

Another minute passes.

Then another, and I'm still not dead.

Ten minutes go by and all the shouting has stopped. They're all waiting for me to choke.

11 minutes.

Why am I hungry?

My neck is blue, meaning it's plastic. Hard but flexible plastic. I can breath, only barely. The rope still hurts and chafes my neck. My lack of breathing alters my perception. I can see the praying grounds from where I'm swinging.

Upon my rope crucifix, I see where the alter is. The burning alter. Where, I assume ritually, the animals go to prey. It's a stone structure with a statue set in the grassy ground. On the outskirts of the alter plants are burning. I recognize the plants.

No wonder the animals don't fight back. You don't fight back when you're constantly in a euphoric state. High all the time, like being stupid all the time. The burning cannabis makes the sex easier. Morals are burned away with inhibitions. I see now what a genius the Dr. is, and how evil too.

And machines don't get high. The used the animals bodies, not the brains. It doesn't matter if the undead animal incased inside a machine is so fucked up that he can't do homework right now. It's the body's electricity that's important.

12 minutes.

Marijuana. High. That's why.

13 minutes.

At least the voice stopped talking. He's not complaining anymore.

14 minutes, and I'm still not dead.

Only now do the animals start to question their religion. Hanging isn't working on me. Some insist it's because I killed their priest, but others . . . . . . . . . others see the truth. They start to look around their perfect little world and realize how fucking pathetic they are for not being smart. For bending over or lying down and not resisting, for trying to hang their only real friend in this place.

I smile, and over in the rise some of the plants fall over, ashes falling. The stone moves and becomes alive.

No. Wait. It's crabmeats.

"Fuck me running! The crabmeats are coming!!"

The animals looked over to see what I meant. They see the single wave of their Demigods coming straight towards them.

"The Rapture!!" Some cry out. A lot start running towards the wave of metal death.

Others only walk, and they keep turning their heads back at me, hesitating.

2 stay with me. Sally and Tails. They both stare up at me in awe and amazement.

"Those people," Tails was the first to speak. "They're gonna die, aren't they?"

I nodded. "Untie me."

Sally hesitated.

"Untie me, and I can save some of them." That's what I'm here for.

Sally runs over to where the rope is tied at the trunk. She unties it, and I fall to the ground clumsily. My legs and hands are still tied. I lay on the cool, real grass as Tails and Sally went to work on my hands and feet.

High. Still, even after I'm lying on the ground.

Before I know it, my hands are untied. And I'm off.

I'm already running past the herds of animals headed at the waves of crabmeats. I can see, in the front line of animals and hear explosions from the grenades. The animals are confused at all the blood flying everywhere and bodies of their former friends hitting them in their faces.

Pretty blood flying across blue artificial skies and puke green grasses. It doesn't hurt when it's someone else's blood. Only when it's your own. This rule applies to you if you have no loved ones. Like me.

It somehow pains me to see one of them die. It didn't to punch them in the face or break their legs. But seeing them killed gets to me. Explosions of fire and blood with body parts attached. Like the fourth of July, only in Robotnik's world.

And I went . . . . . . . insane. My voice takes control of me. I'm at the front line, tearing open metal plates and ripping off the thin legs of the Crabmeats. They throw grenades at me, but I'm too fast for it to explode me. It explodes their comrades, though, which magically appear in my place. Buzz saw through this Crabmeat, throw it's grenade at another. Routine. Priority. Full house. Dealer busts.

And I have this felling that as I'm doing this, I'm still killing more innocents. Animals are cast in metal, undead. And I'm killing them. Tears start to roll down my face as it rip metal body after metal body open. I'm bathed in blood, some of it theirs, some of it my own. Shards of metal shrapnel stick in my back and sides. My knuckles are broken and raw from punching all of the eye stalks, disabling perception. The blind ones throw the grenades wildly. Some hit me and bounce off into the crowd of death and destruction.

And I'm screaming, screaming while I'm saving some animals by killing more. I'm tasting the blood, the bittersweet blood that runs cold down my throat. All of these animals were imprisoned by me, and now I'm setting them free. More and more metal panels are ripped off and wires are cut. Machine parts lay in the once empty field to the praying alter. A storm has come, and it's raining blood from the ground. Thick, red blood, falling up then down. It's all a blur; I'm repeating the same words over and over again, every time I spin dash. Learning through repetition. This will be easier the next time.

. . . . . next time.

High.

Blood. Mine and theirs. Both running down my face into my mouth. It tastes the same to me.

And it's over. There is desolation around me. The bird that chirped earlier chirps again, reminding me that I'm still here. Still under the fake sun setting in the distance behind the praying alter. At my feet, a grenade sits. I pick it up and throw it at the praying alter, near the side of the wall that looks the weakest.

It collapses, sending pieces of stupid stone everywhere. The marijuana plants burn out, and I turn back at the crowd of animals, watching me. Silently, eyes wide open, jaws hung, like when they first saw me. I'm good in their eyes again. Yay.

At first, I stare at them, then I walk to the nearest crabmeat and tear the plating off it's front, and I show them. I don't look myself, but I know it's and animal cased inside, like the raccoon inside E-102. Still-death. And by the sounds of their gasps, it was someone they knew.

Briefly, I remember Rotor, and how glad I am that this isn't him encased inside.

"Show me a God who's skin can be ripped off and I'll show you an innocent that's been made into a slave!" My voice echoes among the entire Knothole area.

**********

It's nighttime, and my euphoric state has worn off. I'm normal now, sitting in a circle of animals around a campfire in the middle of the woods. We evacuated the area per my instructions, saying we would be prime target for the Dr.

Yes, I explained to them about Robotnik. The evil one who enslaved them. Firelight danced off my face as I explained in great detail about the world, the fake, bulbous, cruel world. The darkness of the woods provides the perfect atmosphere for such a story.

After the conflict about two hours ago, when the euphoric effects of the burning marijuana wore off, I gathered together all the grenades and set them in a pile. Our only weapons. I gathered the survivors and taught them how you can still use a 'bot's weapon after it's been ripped off the body. They nodded in semi-understanding, and we did a couple of test runs. A few set the fuse and just held it, and let themselves die. More blood collected on the red grass. I guess they would have rather die in a fake world than try to escape from it and risk Robotosization. Don't blame them.

After weapons training, I taught them about military tactics and survival skills. The ugly wolf/fox breed seemed very interested in learning this. He's still alive, even though he was at the head of the line of animals rushing towards the crabmeats. He was lucky, and he said I saved his live. I don't remember doing it, and frankly, I don't think I would have if I had the choice. He shakes my hand, apologizes for doing all those things to me, and says his name is Antoine.

There are 200 people left, and we're all hiding in the woods now, under makeshift huts and tents made of broken tree limbs and leaves. All of the cuts and scrapes were treated on the wounded animals. Mine were as well; it hurt when the shards of metal were pulled out of my back and sides. Scratch's old gunshot wounds were festering, so it was re-dressed. My broken knuckles were bound with hemp paper.

Sally and Tails were especially careful with me. Both expressed concern over my well being. I'm glad, for the first time in a long while, I am comfortable. But still on edge.

All the animals are asleep, except for Sally. She is still sitting at the fire with me, staring at me and the wounds on my face and body.

"I'm sorry . . . . ." she says after a long period of silence.

"For what?"

"For the way they acted. You didn't deserve all that."

"Maybe I did," I say thoughtfully. "After all, I destroyed your beliefs. I had no right to come into your lives and shake things up. But I wanted to enlighten you all, save you. And I don't know why."

She stays silent as I talk.

"I have this new obsession, and I can't get rid of it, no matter how hard I try or how many times I full fill it. It's called caring. I never used to feel this way, but since all of this shit started, since my conscience awoke, the suffering of animals hurts me. I want to make the sufferers happy, make it all right again. Make the hurt stop, for them and me. . . . . . . .

"But . . . . . If there's always conflict, then how can I heal myself? How can I ever be happy if something isn't right?! It's fucked. This whole world is fucked."

I went a little off topic there. I stare at her in the darkness.

"Sally, have you ever doubted your existence? Like, have you ever tried to disprove the written creed?"

I could tell I hit a nerve. Minutes pass before she replies.

"There is a river by Knothole, a river which lead into God's world. I've been told stories, ever since I was a kid, that some people would become possessed and try to reach paradise before it was their time. The only way in is through the river. A few days later, the drowned bodies of the people washed through the town. Nobody buried them. They were just carried by the river and on to inexistence. Monsignor Davis told us this every time we prayed on the mount. It was a constant reminder to keep on leading my people and never give up on the life I had, no matter how much I wanted paradise." Pause. "But all of that's bullshit, isn't it?"

"Yes," I say. "But I can see why you didn't leave. I'm sure you have loved ones. "

She shook her head.

"My parents were taken off when I was too young to remember. I never knew them to love them. And . . . . ." she stole a look at the sleeping Antoine. "nobody here is my friend. The guys just want me for . . .," She lowered her eyes to her body. "well, you've probably noticed. And the girls hate me for the same reason."

I had noticed. I saw the ways the male animals looked at her when she walked by. It was obvious they were thinking about.

"Saying that I don't enjoy it at all is an overstatement, but . . . . . . . . . it's unsatisfying. It's all the same, it's like repeated words. Black and white. All of the color is gone."

She's right. I feel the same way about my life.

"Hey . . . . . . . . you're not going to breed with me, are you?"

She frowns first, then smiles and laughs. I like her laugh.

"You have a place to sleep?" she asks.

"I slept in a grass field yesterday. I think I'll be fine out here."

"Come on, sleep with me in my hut. It's specially prepared. Best one out here. What have you got to lose?"

My virginity.

"Ok."

The fire was put out. We both crawled, if somewhat awkwardly, into the small makeshift hut. There was plenty of elbow space between us, but we stayed close together anyway. Body warmth, you know.

After two hours, both of us finally fall asleep.

**********

I feel no different now. I sigh because I know that ignorance IS bliss after all. I was better off not fighting. Just giving in. At least before I could comprehend what was happening.

Now it's all a blur. Nothing makes sense anymore. "All of the color is gone. Black and white." A dark, dark dream. The lines run off the page, the doors are painted black, movements are controlled and it's all side scrolling. You can go forward or backward, up or down, with no third options. Not even a reset button. Looking through a blind eye.

Game over. Snake eyes. Dealer busts. Safety. Flag on the play. Shutout. Placebo. A rained out game with no dome. Blank screen, oblivion. Center of the earth, middle of the sun. Darwinism, evolution, black hole, supernova. System glitch, control, alt, delete to reset. Big bang. An empty bag of chips.

All unsaved data lost.

They're all gone now. I'm the only one left.

The void is so dark I can't see my hand.

The End of Monday