Sonic: Sketchy
Concept by M.C. Griffin
Written by Sean Catlett and M.C. Griffin

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 the 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 wake up. That’s how my new day starts. I wake 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 comes at once, and I slump my shoulders so far forward that they’re practically past my toes. Maybe if I quickly drift back to sleep, I might dream of a world that doesn’t so closely resemble…

… Wait, what? Bed sheets…

I feel the surface I’m laying on. Straw. Didn’t I fall asleep, rather, pass out in a grass field? My surroundings are anything but grassy fields and deep blue artificial skies. I’m in the inside of a hut.

I lift up the covers and look at myself. My shoes are off, taken. “Shit!” If they are stolen, then that means half of my speed is gone. I swing my legs out of the covers and I’m about to look for them when I see what is outside through the window.

It looks like a normal orange fox sitting on top of a grassy knoll, but… it has two tails. Freaky. I need to find my shoes. Without them, I will be significantly hindered in battle, and maybe that thing can help me find them. That is, unless…

Unless I’m already dead, and this is 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.

A sigh escapes me. Well, if I am dead, I might as well talk to that fox freak.

I find the door to the hut and walk outside, barefoot. The artificial sun hits my face with such a radiance and heat that it disgusts me. The lush green grasses flow in the direction of the wind. If I am alive, I’m obviously still in the Green Hill Zone. I trudge up the small knoll and stand behind the two-tailed freak.

“Hey.”

The fox turns around quickly. I must’ve startled… her. Yeah, I’m just as surprised as you are. I didn’t expect the freak to be a girl either. She has big blue eyes and a small little snout. She’s really kind of cute, if you go for that sort of thing.

“Where are my shoes?” Right to the point.

She blinks at me. “Oh… um, sorry, they’re in the cupboard, third drawer from the top.” Her look lingers on me, making me a little uncomfortable. I kneel down next to her.

“What?!” I say a little loudly. She jumps.

“Oh! Sorry for staring. It’s just… never mind.”

I shouldn’t leave just yet. I need more answers. “How did I end up here?”

“… 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.”

For the first time I notice the hay patches glued onto me. Awfully nice of her. I only saw one bed in the hut, so she must’ve slept on the floor. And the patches weren’t necessary.

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

I use this as an excuse to sit down next to her. I’m returning the favor of hospitality, you see. I wonder what her reaction was to seeing Scratch and Grounder’s bodies. She doesn’t seem willing to mention it.

Off in the distance, below the rising sun and the edge of the trees, there is a lake with a bridge. Every five seconds or so, trout, steel trout, would pop out of the water and sail a couple of feet into the air before coming back down. The trout, although they are robotic like the others, still need air like the others. They can hold their breaths for awhile, but have to come up for air sometime. Ah, well, they’re just stupid fish anyway, but the point of it is that they are guards. More garrisons to keep the animals from escaping by way of the river, just in case the religion fails to keep them all in line.

We both stare at the rising sun coming over the forest in the distance. Even though we’re looking at the same thing, we’re actually seeing it differently. I see lies, she sees beauty. She sees life beginning, I see life wasted. But I suppose ignorance is bliss, or that it’s better not to dwell on the pointlessness or futility of life, but I’m out of that frame of mind. Fuck all that. It has got to stop. These people are slaves and they don’t even know it, and someone needs to tell them.

Time to get to work. “Have you ever heard of a village called Knothole?”

She hesitates. “Yeah. Why?”

“I need to get there. Can you point me in the general direction?” I’m hoping I’m within at least ten miles of the place.

“… No, but I'll take you there.” She stands up and dusts herself off. I run inside get my shoes real quick like. I come back out next to her and start putting them on. I guess now is as good a time as any to test myself.

“By the way, my name’s Sonic.” I reach out and shake her hand. She pumps it with ease.

“My name’s Sarah. Sarah Prower.”

I cringe a little as I get 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’s 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. Get it?”

Her arms cross and she raises 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, you see. So they know not to fuck with this.”

“Well, I’m pretty fast myself, ya know.”

“Fast, eh?” Humoring her, I think hard, running through name after name. “Nah. Can’t think of a measure of distance that sounds feminine enough.” I think some more. “Okay, I got a name for you. You’re ‘Tails,’ okay?”

She looks at her two tails, then turns 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?” Stressing her new name on purpose, just to anger her.

She groans. “No, you’re not listening. I’m SARAH, Sarah Prower. Call me that or I don’t show you where you want to go.”

“Come on, Tails, we’re wasting time.” I start jogging in place. “Pick up the pace, kiddo.”

She lets loose a heavy sigh. “This way,” she mumbles in defeat.

Man, she gives up way too easy. I start jogging forward slowly, so she can keep up with me easy. 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 flies by me. Immediately, I realize that it’s Tails, using her two extra appendages like a helicopter, hovering in midair and moving forward. She travels with a speed that’s surprising even to me. Something she can do that I can’t, a unique way of traveling at high speeds.

Finally. A challenge.

I speed up slightly, admiring her for having the gall to tango with me. This will be fun, playing this little game of back and forth competition. Maybe my last moment of fun. Quickly, I run after her, leaving a cloud of dust behind me, as well as the secluded area we were just at.

And 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.

Eggman turned away from the casino table where he had been flirting with a waitress. “Can’t it wait?” he said, more than a little irritated. “I’m a little busy . . .” He motioned 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 Doctor’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 stressful 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. Eggman was at least four times her size. 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 hate to admit it, I’m having a tough time keeping up with Tails. She can fly pretty damn fast, and is actually almost beating me on our trek through the grassy fields. I can faintly see where we’re headed. Faint, sinewy smoke is rising over the next couple of hills.

That sight makes me feel good, seeing something that Robotnik wasn’t responsible for making. It fuels my drive to get out of this place, as well as giving me motivation to speed up. I faintly hear Tails panting behind me as I inch ahead of her.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of sun reflecting off of metal. Quickly, I dive at Tails and tackle her to the ground. The tall grass will keep us well hidden.
“Aw, I wanted to see which one of us has the bigger dick . . .”

“SHHHH!” Above the flowing grass, a Buzzbomber is on patrol off in the distance. Tails looks up over the grass to see.

She sighs in half relief, half disgust. “Geez, what’s wrong with you?” She starts to stand up but I pull her back down.

“Keep down!” I can’t believe her. I mean, I figured her for a halfway smart gal, but now she’s steadily convincing me that she’s a damn ditz, like the kind the Doctor likes to hire in his casino. I wonder if she sent in an application.

The Buzzbomber in the distance reverses direction and disappears into the trees. I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Tails lays down in the grass.

“No. They aren’t.”

She throws me an incredulous look. “Of course they are! Where would we be without them?” I stare at her. “I suppose you wouldn’t understand, being that…”

So it was true. Rotor and his kind did think those things were demigods. Geez, how can any living creature be that stupid? Eh, I suppose you can’t expect much from them, but then again, I’m his creation as well…

“So… tell me about them.”

**********

“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 creators’ 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 mortal 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 desires 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 how long has this been going on?” I can’t believe my fuckin ears. This is such horrible bullshit.

“We don’t know. The one who’s been here the longest was our Monsignor, and he’s…” She stops herself, and I catch a glimmer of fear in her eyes as she looks right at me. “… He’s dead.”

“Hey, I think the coast is clear. Let’s get out of here…” Changing the subject and breaking her gaze, I get up out of the grass. I help her to her feet without making eye contact. “Lead the way.”

She twirls her tails, hovering in place. “After you.”

And I’m off, letting Tails keep a close distance behind me. Let her follow me, watch over me. It’s obvious that she doesn’t trust me. No, not in the least, and in fact, I did something that made her this way. Why is she so afraid of me?

What she’s doing is herding me. She knows that any attempt to subdue me will be futile, and she has figured this out either because she’s more observant than I thought, or…

She’s barely even mentioned finding Scratch and Grounder’s bodies, and it seems like something that’s worth mentioning, a sight you don’t see every day. Why is she purposefully avoiding it?

… She knew Scratch. Fuck, man, he was the Monsignor! And I fucking killed him.

And she’s taking me to her village to tell everyone.

This isn’t good.

The village of Knothole comes into view over the rise.

**********

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?

**********

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, 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 bathes all the life in its fattening, glazing essence. Happiness is cooked meat, glazed in stupidity, cooked for two 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 divine one, Robotnik. A conscience doesn’t matter.

Well, it matters to me.

Fuck. That’s it. I’m not holding back the truth any longer.

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

Now they’re 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 lean over to Tails and whisper in her ear, “Which one is your leader?”

“Sally.”

“… Stupid name. Why is this Sally broad the leader, anyway?”

“She’s the oldest.”

Made sense, I guess. The one with the most experience. The one who still hasn’t been taken yet. “Take me to her.”

“That happens to be where we’re going.”

By now, the shock of seeing me is starting to wear off with the animals and the gossip is starting. Discussion. Animals 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 walk to Sally’s hut thing, I hear jeers from crowd, but none are directed at me. Tails takes them in stride, doing her best to ignore them, walking proudly next to me. She looks like she’s well used to the abuse.

Me, 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 something new to keep their eyes on, to keep their minds occupied, so they don't start to question themselves and their own existence. Anything but that. Without meaning to, I’ve contributed to the very thing that I’m fighting against.

I suck at this hero thing.

We finally make it to Sally’s hut, the shit-brown wood towering over me. Her dwelling is by far the largest of all the buildings here, save for the marble structure on the hill that looks like a church. Still, despite the age, the wood doesn’t look old or decayed or the least bit worn. Everything looks brand new, shining beneath all of the dirt and dried cum.

I start walking up the wooden steps when an animal, a half-breed fox/wolf, stops me in my tracks, scowling. He has his fur combed into a neat little curl at the end on his chest. Very clean looking, good posture, smooth hands, small calves. He speaks weird, so I can barely understand him.

“You can’t go in there-”

I push him out of the way, his body flying over the edge of the steps. He barely has time to call out in surprise before his body hits the dirt and I’m wrenching the door open.

A squirrel sits on her bed across from me, dropping an old book to the floor and turning angrily at me. She storms forward, not wasting any time at all in being surprised, and in fact, she doesn’t find my appearance odd at all, or she hides it well. At any rate, I hardly hear anything she says. I’m too busy staring at her… God she’s pretty.

Oh… she’s angry. Right.

“Oh please, none of you wear any clothes anyway.”

She stares at me angrily. “Who are you?!”

I walk closer to her and hold out my hand. “Sonic.” She doesn’t take it, but at least she’s calmer.

“Just what the hell are you doing in here?”

“You’re the guy in charge, right?”

The comment strikes her and I can practically see the anger boiling inside. “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.

**********

In the Spring Yard Zone, something has reawakened. The lights come back on, the tracks widen, the pits reactivate, 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 in any physical form. Here, he created life, successful life, for the first time, instead of only destroying it. It was a special moment for him. The creation of his spoke to him, asked him where it was.

It was frightened. Scared. Vulnerable. Small and insignificant in the big, cruel world. So cute you just wanted to give it a hug. In the memory, the human picked up his new life and just held it in his arms, telling it not to be afraid, that he was safe.

In the following few moments, the picture was taken.

And then the human is back in the present. He looks at the picture taken, of his creation, his life, his only son that is not his son, and puts it away 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 reactivated along with his laboratory and his study.

It was four years ago when Robotnik shut these down, in hope that he would never need to power them back on. Hope that he had all he needed to continue… but now is not the case. In four years, everything can change anything, and vice versa. Now he wanted ‘em back on.

Robotnik wishes for nothing more than his son back. Or… maybe he does want more. He might want to recapture what he had with him.

And in order to do that…

**********

I walk outside of Sally’s hut and stand on the steps. All of the animals hold their eyes on me, waiting, with looks of wonder and excitement. Somewhere in the crowd, someone coughs.

“Okay. Listen up, everybody. Wait until I finish before you start asking questions. I will answer any of them you have, but first you have to listen.” My voice carries to the edge of the village. All will hear this…

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

“This world… it isn’t what you think it is. You’re all 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 want to enlighten them.

Baby steps. Not this time.

Since it’s basically a breeding pen for the animals, you can smell the sex in the air. A baby is probably born every day here. Many mothers and fathers carry litters of kids. Even though it’s a small town, it’s overpopulated. Bloated. And more are definitely on the way.

The words I speak evoke all kinds of emotional responses. They blink with surprise as they drink in every sentence, gasping whenever I say ‘fuck’ or ‘shit’ without holding back in shame. But mostly… I see anger. I’m badmouthing their religion, their beliefs. To them, the gods and demigods are sacrosanct, untouchable.

I’m pissing in their holy water and shitting on their discs of bread, in so many ways. I’m burning their crosses and statues and churches and cardinals and saints. They need none of these to live, but everyone wants a benevolent creator. Everyone wants something to look up to.

But they didn’t know the truth. I do, and now, I have shared it with them. There are now informed.

Done. The fox/wolf I pushed over earlier crosses his arms in front of him and scoffs loudly. Without flinching, I tell him he’s a cocksucking piece of shit.

Sally steps forward and questions 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, is 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 this, 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 doesn’t do anything. 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 says. I needed to be brought here for questioning.

Because I killed someone. I burned a Saint without the symbolism.

Scratch. 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 are demigods, and that resisting them would be resisting paradise.

Tails left the town, because the grief was just too great to bear. The villagers hate her because she’s different. Her two tails. An abomination, so hard to ignore. Those were the first things I noticed about her.

Sally demands to know why I killed the Monsignor. I explain that he was a part of it. The conspiracy, the slavery, the lies. And she doesn’t believe me, of course. None of them do. Tails and I are alone on this…

A rock sails from the crowd and hits me in the head. It hurts. A lot. And 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 didn’t see him for six hours yesterday. The only time that happened was about twelve years ago, and the Doctor quickly regretted doing so a couple of months later…

It was always a bad sign when Robotnik was gone for a while. Two hours ago, Snively last saw the Doctor, 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 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 affected.”

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

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Tell me, Snively, do you like what you do?”

“… Sir, honestly, I’d rather be licking the body hair off of a mountain bear 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 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, there are a scattering of Crabmeat ‘bots in the Green Hill Zone. It seems that their link to the core has been severed.”

It was the Doctor’s turn to be silent.

“Sir… Scratch and Grounder have failed to report in, and are most likely dead. They haven’t responded to transmissions, and it’s probably Grounder’s damaged transmitter that’s causing 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 Doctor. “Attack, sir?”

“Yes. There’s a chance our runaway is there, and I want to see what he is capable of. Maybe we can even show him that the only safe place to be is with us.”

“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 has been an hour since I last saw these girls.”

Snively scoffed, shook his head, 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 a closer inspection, it was obvious that their styles and mannerisms were slightly unique from one another.

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.” The other was slightly more reserved, with no body piercings but he was just as immature.

“Snivvles!!!” they both said in unison. Snively left in disgust.

Both of the hedgehogs laughed their heads off. The pierced one stopped laughing finally and slapped the other one on the shoulder.

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

“You kidding?”

“Yeah, you’re right. She looks like her face was run over with a steam roller.” This caused the pierced green hedgehog to burst out laughing again. A weasel, a purple vest wrapped around his arms and donning a giant hat with pearly white teeth, 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, motherfucker! I don’t know where you’ve been!”
Manic flipped Nack off. The weasel suddenly grew very serious.

“And another thing, every time you talk to long-nose like that, you make my immunity here a little thinner. Just watch it, or my girls don’t fuck you any more!” Manic was silent after that comment. “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, much more than usual. And the Doctor is coming around a lot more.”

The two brothers were silent for a long time. They watched the prostitutes, especially Rouge and Bunnie, and soon were rating the others around them.

**********

High.

I’m backing away from the group of animals that are attempting to lynch me. Through the indiscernible shouts and curses, I hear two voices, begging for the crowd to stop.

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

To no avail. The crowd still lunges at me as I back 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 are being kicked and thrown at me, fake and artificial, created specially for this environment. 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. The rock explodes when it hits my hand and sends sharp shards back at them. It’s a frail rock, but it still hurts my hand. My knuckle bleeds. I ignore it and run at the crowd of animals shocked because I fight back at them.

My hurting fist sails at the nearest face I see and I punch him square in the cheek bone. I’m not that strong, but it does send him reeling. The next animal gets a sharp kick in the knee. I put a lot of power behind it, and aim straight for the animal’s joint.

Snap.

The next and the next receive a dose of pain. Whoever comes near me. Sometimes I connect with a nose, other times a stomach. And although I can discern what I’m hitting, I don’t know the person attached to it. All of the crowd blurs together, so men or women don’t exist anymore. Neither do children. Those little guys can throw too. Innocents my ass.

Soon, though, I’m overpowered. I’m not invincible. I’m not a messiah. If I was, I wouldn’t have fought back. But that’s what I’m doing. Fighting as a variety of hands grip my arms and legs and pull 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 that look like skin is actually one big mold of hard, flexible plastic, wrapped all around me. Fingers crack against my skull and back. But every five hits, the parts of me that are actually skin, like my stomach and the area around my mouth, are pounded and bleed, flowing with ease. Both plastic and skin hurt like a bitch, but only one bleeds easier. My old wounds open up and the straw is torn off.

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 should keep me locked up.

“No cell we could make will hold him,” The half breed says. “I say we hang him.”

The crowd lets out an uproarious cry: “HANG HIM.” The committee of judges, deciding my fate. My vote isn’t counted.

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 hanged. And hanged high.

High.

“I’m the leader,” Sally says. “It’s the way.”

“The old ways can be questioned,” says the half breed, elected spokesman of the crowd.

“Isn’t that what I said?” A punch to my teeth silences me. Again, I don’t count in this trial.

Witches can only be killed by being hanged 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 it, so they fake like I’m not here. They’re not really killing me. No way. They decide to pretend 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 carry me there, they pretend to tie my hands around my back. They tie my feet as well, role playing, pretending. And they drag me, arms pinned, to the tree. It stands alone, on a grassy hill that overlooks the town, just like they had 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 hanged 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.

Déjà vu of yesterday as I spit in his face and try to bite him. I twist and turn as the other end of the rope is pulled and pulled. They land the last of their blows before I’m out of their reach.

And I’m hanged.

High.

A minute passes as the animals below me, some bleeding and holding their bodies where I hit them, shout at me that I’ll be in inexistence where I belong, with all of the other heathens. Sally and Tails stand in the back and watch the car crash that is my life. A horrible wreck. So horrible that 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.

Eleven minutes.

Why am I hungry?

My neck is blue, meaning that it’s plastic. Hard but flexible plastic. I can breathe, 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 altar is. The burning altar. Where the animals go to ritually pray. Where Scratch used to live. It’s a stone structure with a statue set in the grassy ground. The highest point in all of Knothole, and it’s on fire. On the outskirts of the alter, the plants are burning. Ablaze. I still manage to 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 Doctor is, and how evil too.

And machines don’t get high. They use 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.

Twelve minutes.

Marijuana. High. That's why.

Thirteen minutes.

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

Fourteen 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 bending over and 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 come to life.

No. Wait. It’s Crabmeats.

“Fuck me running! The Crabmeats are coming!”

The animals look over to see what the hell I’m talking about. 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.

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

“Those people,” Tails is the first to speak. “They’re gonna die, aren’t they?”

I nod. “Untie me.”

Sally hesitates.

“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 still tied, I lay on the cool, real grass as Tails and Sally go 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 the front of the 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. No fucking shit this isn’t supposed to happen.

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, if you are completely alone. Like me.

It somehow pains me to see 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. Fireworks with extras.

And I go… insane. I just… fucking… lose it. 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 them to hit. It explodes their comrades, though, who magically appear in my place. Buzz saw through this Crabmeat, throw its 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 animals, animals cast in metal, undead. A feeling that I can’t escape no matter how hard I try, no matter the number of animals I try to free. They’re still slaves. 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, but not really. This is just more role playing. 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, in one way or another. More and more metal panels are ripped off and wires are cut. Machine parts lay in the once empty field to the praying altar. A storm has come, and it’s raining blood from the ground. Thick and red, 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. Déjà vu. This will be easier the next time.

… Next time.

High. It all tastes the same to me.

And it’s over. There is desolation around me. I’m still here. Still under the fake sun setting in the distance behind the praying altar. At my feet, a grenade sits. I pick it up and throw it at the praying altar, near the side of the left wall.

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 hanging, 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 its front, and I show them. I don’t look myself, but I know it’s an animal cased inside, like 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…

**********

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 Doctor.

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, for about two hours ago, when the euphoric effects of the burning marijuana began to wear off, I gathered together all the grenades and set them in a pile. Our only weapons. I brought together the survivors and taught them how you can still use a ‘bot’s weapon after it’s been ripped off the body. Beginning their training. They nodded in semi-understanding, and we did a couple of test runs. A few set the fuse and just held it, letting 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. I 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. Yes, 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 that I saved his life. I don’t remember doing it, and frankly, I don’t think I would have if I had been given the choice. But, he shook my hand, apologizing for doing all those things to me, and he said his name was Antoine.

There are not very many 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 they were redressed. 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 that, for the first time in a long while, I am comfortable, but I’m still a little 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. 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 fulfill 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 anyone hurts me. I want to make the sufferers happy, make it all right again. Make the hurt stop, for them and for me.” Hmmm. “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 entire world is fucked.” I stare at her in the darkness. “Sally, have you ever doubted your existence? Like, have you ever tried to disprove the written creed?”

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 washed through the town. Nobody buried them. They were just carried by the river and on to inexistence. The Monsignor 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, but I can see why you didn’t leave. I’m sure you have loved ones.”

She shakes her head. “My parents were taken off when I was too young to remember. I never knew them long enough to love them. And…” she steals a look at the sleeping Antoine. “Nobody here is my friend. The guys just want me for…” She lowers her eyes to her body. “Well, you’ve probably noticed. And the girls hate me for the same reason.”

Boy did I ever notice. I saw the way the males looked at her whenever she walked by. It was obvious what they were thinking about.

“Saying that I don’t enjoy it is a lie, but… it’s unsatisfying. After a long enough time, it’s all the same, like repeated words. Black and white. All of the color is gone.”

She’s right. I feel the same way. “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?”

“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. Come on, what have you got to lose?”

Do I have something to lose? For once in my life? “Okay.”

The fire smolders. We both crawl, if somewhat awkwardly, into the small makeshift hut. There’s plenty of elbow space between us, but we stay close together anyway. Body warmth, you know.

After two hours, both of us finally fall asleep.

**********

I feel no different now, 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