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

Tuesday

This morning, I found blood in my urine.

For one straight week I’ve fought, scrambled, and crawled to get out of this wretched place, out of this nightmare that I used to call my home. I’ve been confronted by enemies the likes of which I can only begin to detest. I’ve been shot, punched, and hanged, all in the name of science or religion, total opposites of which I am on neither side of

It started to pick up for me last night. I got to sleep next to the most desirable woman in the new Knothole village. We didn’t do anything, mind you, just slept next to each other. It made her happy, to have someone that didn't want her in the way the others did. I was glad to oblige, and I still am.

I escaped from my prison cot a week and two days ago. The ‘bots in Robotnik’s fortress can detect lingering heat, so I couldn’t piss while I was inside the fortress until I got to the outside.

When your bladder is full and you’re unconscious, your body doesn’t listen to the inhibitions stored in the brain. The field where I passed out probably still has traces of me, soaking into the dirt, watering the fake grassy roots.

Yesterday, after the Crabmeats attacked, I was offered water by the residents. All the blood from the fight was caking in my mouth, and the taste made me want to puke, so I gladly accepted. I watered down the blood that was in my stomach to a light pink.

So, when I woke up this morning, I had the biggest urge to take a piss. A streaming, warm one that could echo through the woods and knock the bark off a tree. I tried not to wake up Sally as I crawled out of the hut and walked give or take twenty feet. Away from the camp, I picked an oak that looked so sad and old that it wanted to die, and I went.

How I know it wasn’t the blood from the fight, is because it was too red. I drank too much water for it to be this red. Also, it hurt, and we all know the rule about your own blood leaving the body.

I’m bleeding. Internally. Either from Scratch's gunshot wounds or from the Crabmeat fight that I barely recollect. An unknown wound that I can’t fix. Marijuana patches won’t help me this time. Those already cover fifty percent of my body.

There’s blood in my urine… and I’m somewhat worried about it.

**********

“It’s that fucking dream again!”

Snively thought he knew what the trouble was when his communicator rang, disturbing his sleep. At first, he thought against reaching for it, but finally did so after the fourth or fifth annoying tone.

“Sir, I was sleeping,” he said into the microphone after he pressed the red button on the side.

“Snively, did you finish what I asked you to do?” came the voice of Doctor Robotnik.

“Yes. It’s five in the morning, sir. Did you have the dream again?”

“Good, so you’re ready to start your new job?”

“Sir, I can’t say that I’m ready, just that I’m listening to whatever you have to say. If it’s cleaning toilets in the Death Egg, I don’t think I’m ready for such an important job.”

“Excellent,” Robotnik said in one of his thoughtful, drawn out tones. The speaker on the machine vibrated at the end of the spoken word. “Come down to the Casino Nights Zone. I have a surprise for you.”

‘Shit, not that place again,’ Snively thought to himself. “Fine, sir. Just… keep your hands to yourself until I get there.”

There was some giggling in the background, followed by the Doctor’s reply. “Too late for that.”

Snively groaned and went to get dressed.

**********

Game Plan.

The Knothole village survivors started rebuilding the town deep within the nearby forest. They all awoke from their slumbers ten minutes after I did. They went to work immediately on building huts and constructing defenses and whatnot. Sally walked through the crowds, doing what she could to help out, cutting down trees and wrapping vines around trunks. My job was mostly running back and forth with supplies, going for this, going for that, doing certain arbitrary jobs… Man, does that sound familiar.

The person I would give the things to would thank me, at great lengths, whether I wanted them to or not. They would tell me how they thought I shouldn’t be working, what with how hurt I was. I’ll eventually get sick of all their praise.

Tails’ job was airlifting vines to tie on tree trunks and wrap them around. Orders to her were given with a fake politeness that could decay stone. I’ll eventually get sick of all their shit.

After two hours, the town was rebuilt, and the entire surviving village was sent into the main hut for a meeting as to what to do next. Mammals of all kinds, ages of all kinds. I see about ten children and five pregnant women without husbands. The massacre left many without companionship, as did the suicides from the attempted training operation.

The group sits in a circle, and I’m in the middle, explaining the plan to the onlookers. Sally and Antoine are on opposite sides of each other, and Tails stands close to me in the center. The morning sun shines through the trees and windows and makes patterns on the dirt floor.

This is the same scene as yesterday, set inside of a hut instead. I’m yet again explaining to a reluctant crowd of onlookers. This time, there are no hostile intentions, only quieted numbness, where you aren’t fully awake yet, where you still believe it’s all a made up scenario gone bad.

“This is real, I assure you.”

I go into great detail about the anatomy of this place. “You can’t go into Robotnik’s base. The Labyrinth Zone overflows when night falls and anyone inside will drown.” Religion can be explained with science. Moses’ river parted because of a seasonal tide. The plague was just animals migrating. The ten commandments were the product of an insane man’s mind. Priests are robots. “There is an exit for every two holding pens next to each other. About twenty miles away, there is the Marble Zone. It is very much like this place, the Green Hill Zone, only with lava… and marble. Lava covers the exit to the outside world.”

Hands go up, questions are asked. “What is ‘lava?’” and so on. When they understand, I continue.

“Strategy. It’s what we need in order to survive.” Sacrilege. “The lava flows can be shut off by turning valves.” Blasphemy. “There is another zone, about fifty miles away, which controls the pressure of oil and water. The Oil Ocean Zone.” Heretic. “If we can shut these valves off, we can leave.” Savior. “We’ll all be free.” Messiah. “Freedom, for the first time.” God. “But it’s not as simple as it seems.” Fuck.

“Exits and valves are miles apart. Group One holds off the entrance while Group Two hurries their asses back to the exit. Both groups leave this world at the same time, so they’re ready for whatever’s on the other side. Together.”

I don’t tell them that I won’t be going with them.

More hands go up. Questions like, “What are valves?” and “Oil?” and “What’s gonna happen to us on the other side?”

… I don't know.

How can I really say that the world outside is better than the one in here? Is there even a difference? This could be a facility within a facility within a facility, on and on. One can go crazy thinking about where the fake world ends and the real one begins. We could all still be in a prison even when we’re free. Dementia through dimensions.

Everyone needs a common goal. When ours is reached a new one will be created almost instantly, another thing to think about as your life ends by the second. Your job, whatever that may be, keeps you occupied. That’s why it’s called an occupation. It’s anti-suicide drugs, injected through the skull into the moral section of the brain. The drug is called conflict.

There is never peace while you’re living, and yet I am striving for their freedoms. Striving for peace; serenity. I know it’s futile.

Common goal. Game plan. Sally stands up.

“Everyone, we have a long ways to walk today. Sonic is going to show us all the facilities, so we can be ready to shut it down. We are pressed for time, I’m told, so get everything together, and we’ll head out in ten minutes.”

I explain. “We need to keep moving, so Robotnik can’t get a constant fix on us. If we stay off the beaten path, out of sight, we may be able to pull this off.”

The group is led outside. Antoine walks closer to me.

“Remember,” I conclude, turning to the group, “If you see a ‘bot in the area, alert the group. We stand a better chance if we all fight it, and we can relocate. Alone, you stand little chance.”

The group, the Knothole villagers, all fighting for freedom, gather their wits, and we head out two minutes behind schedule.

**********

Casino Nights Zone. Morning. The night shift ‘bots switch their jobs with the day shift and the prostitutes on duty check out to get some rest, and the day shifters come in waves, steadfast and ready for the time when Robotnik comes by for relaxation.

There was a very good reason for the worker’s efficiency. Before it was reformed, the logic of the workers used to be this: since the animals lined up for Robotosization are on a waiting list, there is plenty of time to escape if you are ever caught. The animals in the holding pens didn’t know this, but the prostitutes and cleaners did. Knowing that they could only show up to work if they felt like it reduced the casino to minimal efficiency.

But the Doctor invented the assembly thing, as well as designed the casino. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He was God in this world.

Five years back he finally hit the breaking point with all that had been going on with Manic and the newly completed Ashura. When the good Doctor tried to relieve his frustration in his getaway and found the women unresponsive and the floors dirty, his mind broke. The girls he decided to punish couldn’t be Robotosized because of the loss of blood, but had them moved to the front of the assembly line anyway. “Priority subjects,” he called them. They were the worst ‘bots ever produced, and were put in the casino as poker and blackjack dealers. It served as a constant reminder to all who reside there that God can fuck with science, but you can never fuck with God.

Everyone was on their toes after that, including the citizens living outside the casino itself, those who just come to work, get paid, buy food, gamble, and buy prostitutes on the side.

It was the part of Robotropolis that was the freest, even if there were strict rules to follow. It had its own little economy, derived from the casino, of course, and from money coming in from outside sources. There was a school, a cemetery, and a crematorium.

Nack, the pimp, who also happened to be a key player of the zone, was very nervous as he sat at the bar in the casino, watching Robotnik play blackjack with an obsolete version of an opponent. Nack’s head turned occasionally to the raucous laughter coming from the food court section, those voices of Manic and Ashura. Nack had never questioned the Doctor’s intentions for putting those two there with him, but he wished it had never happened all the same. They were the only ones that could freeload around and not get into any trouble. The Doctor didn’t expect miracles from those two, so it was okay if they acted like idiots. Mistakes almost never amount to much.

Almost.

It pissed Nack off. It was his head on the line if the Doctor got fed up or angry. It didn’t matter if the casino was raking in the dough. Money was no object to Robotnik, but entertainment was. If it wasn’t up to par, heads would roll. Nack thought many times that he needed a new way to impress the Doctor, and trying to get Manic and Ashura to behave was a pain in the ass he didn’t need.

They were both assholes to whoever came in, and their favorite pet to pick on was Snively. They made fun of his long nose, his missing hair, and the sickening way he talks. Nack figured that it was a good thing that Snively was above complaining to the Doctor about this, or he would have been made into a Buzzbomber long ago.

The news of the insubordination of the newest version of the hedgehog model, Sonic, had finally reached the ears of Nack, and he was very worried about it. So worried that he doubled the prostitutes’ hourly shifts, much to the dismay of Rouge, who said she wanted to spend more time with her daughter.

“Hey, tell someone who cares, bitch,” he had told her. She gave him one of her “I’m gonna kill you one day” looks and stormed off.

Sera was another annoyance. Nack had made it abundantly clear to her that she was too young to be a whore, and yet she flirted with every Harry Dick and Tom in the place, immediately jumping on the guy’s junk, as he put it to her mother. The customers then wanted the girl to take for an hour or ten minutes or whatever, and Nack would always have to disappoint the poor guy.

This nameless animal, any breed, who most likely had a significant other at home tending his two pre-school children, would always walk up to Nack with the bat/human half breed and shout just loud enough for his friends sitting at the bar to hear, “This one.”

“Sorry, man, this ain’t Taxi Driver, she’s too young,” Nack would always have to say, “But try the mother. She pure blood bat, very horny, very wet. Tits like you wouldn’t believe, a mouth that won’t quit, and an ass that you gotta taste to believe. Man, she’ll get your cock so hard it’ll make it explode…” The usual pitch.

The guy would always say, “I’ve had the mother enough times already. I want to see if it’s genetic, if it runs in the family.”

Then Nack would look down and see Sera’s arm around the guy’s waist.

Nack would sigh. “Two-hundred dollars.” Nack knew by then how to get out of this situation, whenever it arose.

“Fuck you, man. That’s too much for ten minutes.”

“… Fuck me? FUCK YOU!”

The poor guy would always hold his squirting nose in pain and hurry back to his friends. They would be laughing at him. Nack’s knuckles were rock hard.

Then angry Nack would always grab Sera, the overly flirtatious for an eleven year-old girl, and shove it back to her mother, who was always in the middle of something important.

“Keep a fucking eye on this little shit, or I can’t be responsible for what happens to her!”

Rouge’s eyes would always flash angrily at Nack. “Watch my daughter, or I tell Doctor Robotnik.” Threat. “I’m sure he would LOVE to hear how you neglected her in a room full of drunk males just itchin’ to get off. You even offered money past the original price, since she’s such a unique piece of ass.” Sera would always start crying, batting her stupid, underdeveloped pink bat eyes at Nack, secretly saying ‘Ha, you fucking idiot! I’ve won again!’

This always happened. Never failed. Nack got blamed for everything. Being a pimp doesn’t help your credibility as a person.

“There’s something wrong with that fucking broad,” Nack thought out loud to Rouge on one occasion. “Chemical imbalance, or some shit.” Rouge insisted then that it was because of the mixed DNA of human and bat, but that explanation was too stupid for Nack. “No, I think she’s hangin’ around you too much, Rouge honey.”

Slap to his face, tongue kiss, in out, in out, ten minutes later, back to work. It always happened. Insults in the name of love are an aphrodisiac.

Nack had all of this to consider, plus running the casino and the zone efficiently so he wasn’t sent to Robotosization, and then there was news of the escapee.

So as you can imagine, he had a lot on his mind when he got up from his bar stool and approached Robotnik, still wearing the black lab coat that always covers his arms and the bottom half of his face, winning very easily at the blackjack table.

“Yo Doc, what’s happenin?”

“Nothing much, Nack.” The Doctor hit twenty one again. “Something on your mind?”

“Naw, man, just chillin,’ you know. How you doin? Anything I can getcha? Water? Lovely lady?”

“Tempting… but Snively keeps insisting I spend too much time with the ladies. I think I’ll keep playing until he arrives.”

“Whatever you want, but if you want anything else, give me a holla,” Nack waited for the Doctor’s reply.

“Thank you, Nack. I appreciate your help, but I am rather busy right now. Maybe later I’ll pay you and your ladies a visit.”

Nack nodded, said his goodbyes, and left the table. He made a note to himself to mention the runaway next visit. It might turn out to be a golden opportunity.

**********

It was about ten minutes out before I noticed that all of the women were staring at me. And not just in that curious way, either. Their eyes moved over me, pausing on certain parts of my body, thinking what it would be like to have me pressed against them, breathing heavily. All of that fucking bullshit.

It used to be, before Robotnik came along, that it was procreation, the spreading of the genes that drove most mammals. It used to be only humans and dolphins that had actually did it for fun, with protection, calling it “sex.” Now, sex drives all mammals. Well, in Robotropolis anyway.

Although I am a creation, made to be almost mammal, sex doesn’t drive me. I am indifferent to the pleasures of what could be called the physical act of love, and indifferent to the possibility of having little version of me running around. In fact, the prospect of the last one is almost an anti-libido.

No, I am driven by something else entirely…

Tails, Sally, and I are at the front of the line, checking for any signs that something unfavorable may happen. In my head, the computer data files still remain fresh. And even way out here, without the comforting luck probability of corridors, there are still dangerous things that can’t afford to be overlooked. Like the traps.

I promised I will never make myself another victim to one of the traps in this place, this living creature. The one that led me to E-102 could’ve ended my journey right there, but that’s not what bothered me. What was screwing with me was the fact that I was stupid enough to think I would be okay.

As an extra, traps are built along the outskirts of the villages and forests. Not defensive traps, really, but more like extra guarantees of fresh power. When an animal is caught in one of these traps, a transmitter emits a short burst that alerts the nearest ‘bot on patrol. The animal is then carried off for its eternal encasement inside an infernal machine.

These transmitters rely on their own power source that can last for ten years, but the ‘bots in the area rely on a constant signal from a nearby antennae, which is connected to the Scrap Brain Zone. In this zone, the antennae belonged to Grounder. The Scrap Brain Zone power was routed through Grounder and then branched out to other ‘bots in the area.

Grounder is dead. His antennae is destroyed. The ‘bots in the area would be in disarray, relying on their source of power that is well faded by the time it reaches them. But they will also waiting for any signal that comes to them.

This means that if one of us gets caught in the traps, confused but still effective patrol 'bots will converge on our position.

This half-retarded group of mine treads through the forest, tightly packed, with Sally, Tails, and me leading the front, and Antoine carrying our grenades in a tightly weaved marijuana sac. There are no traps in the forest, I know. There are no patrol routes through the woods. Only surveillance.

It’s unavoidable that we are spotted, but as long as we keep updating our positions, we have a chance. As long as we keep the line moving at a constant speed. We’ll be walking all day, and maybe well into the night.

It’s harder than it sounds, to keep moving. The pregnant women and the young ones get tired easily. Already, not even halfway through the woods, and people want to stop.

I figure as long as I keep walking, everyone will follow. I am their leader, unwilling, but all the same, still a leader. They’ll follow me barefoot, through armies and over mountains, in snow and breathing fire, just as long as I go first. Showing them how. Learning through repetition. Easier next time.

Antoine wants to talk to me again. He makes it apparent in the way he drops back and forth from the front of the line, with Tails, Sally, and me. I finally approach him first.

“What?” I say to him.

He points to the sack of grenades he’s carrying. It sounds something like… “I hope I am being safe with this.”

“They won’t explode unless you activate them, then you have at least five seconds before you die.”

Death is still a new concept here, so Antoine cringes a little at the word.

And for the next hour, Antoine talks about his life, in strangely pronounced phrases that I can barely understand. I catch how he says that discipline was his father’s invention, and even though Sally is by all other rights the leader, Antoine says that he deserves it anyway. At least, that’s what he thought yesterday.

Now he feels he can’t handle the responsibility of being in the spotlight, especially now, when this new conflict is brought to light.

It sounds like he says that he’ll do anything in his power to help. And he fades to the back of the line again, leaving me alone and at the front once more. This has left a little confused

Sally’s look stays on me when I turn towards her. “The forest ends ahead,” I say.

The naked sex-driven crowd climbs over the last hill and the great planes of Robotropolis come into a brilliant view of the early morning sunlight shining through the trees.

**********

Robotnik twirled his nine inch pocket knife on his finger. He finished his game awhile ago, and was whistling and waiting patiently for Snively to arrive, who finally came in through the door of the casino, and immediately spotted the Doctor.

“Well sir, I have to say you have me pleasantly surprised,” he said when he came to the blackjack table.

“What took you so long?”

“On my way here, I checked the reports of the power readings. We are five percent ahead of schedule.” Snively paused. “I’m proud of you, sir.” The Doctor frowned, and let Snively continue. “I have to say, I was skeptical as to whether you could pull it off or not, since I didn’t know what you exactly had in mind. But you did it, sir, and you managed to do it without changing the cycle of the sun or increasing the number of-”

“Snively, shut up.” Robotnik lowered his head to the table, his eyes flashing with anger, but the rest of his face neutral. Robotnik’s voice came out from beneath his collar in a strained, clenched voice. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

Snively, slightly confused, checked the stack of papers in his arms. He found the power readings and read across to the side column.

“Oh… sir… apparently, the report says that power is up because less is being drawn out from the ‘bots. And according to communications,” He switched to another paper. “… No deactivation messages were sent out.”

The Doctor slammed his fist into the table hard and let out a cry of frustration. The animals at a nearby table got up and left in a hurry. Snively, eyeing the knife in Robotnik’s hand, took a couple of steps back.

“He destroyed them all…” Robotnik said just above a whisper. He twirled his knife once in his hand. "He is strong…”

“Our runaway, sir?”

“Yes. I’ll have to make a note of his newfound strength.” The Doctor laughed. “I can’t believe I underestimated him.”

“So… how are you going to-”

“I said I’d take care of it!” The Doc struggled to remain calm. “Right now, I want you to go and get another production line running. Make as many ‘bots as possible. I want Buzzbombers, fully battle equipped, Motobugs, for quick transportation, and those caterpillar things that-”

“SIR!” Snively cried out, too late realizing that he shouldn’t interrupt the Doctor.

Robotnik slammed the knife through a deck of cards and into the table, causing the customers in the next room to jump out of their seats and clear out. Snively dropped some of his papers and took two more steps back.

“I will take care of the power problem when I get around to it. Come back here when you finish what I have asked. I still have that thing waiting for you…”

Snively quickly left, not relishing coming back for the Doctor’s surprise.

Nearby, hiding behind a corner, a nervous Nack watched the entire conversation. When it was over, and Robotnik took his knife out of the table, Nack ran off as fast as he could.

In the room with the couch, various sorts of prostitutes were lounging about, resting from the long shift they just had. Bunnie, holding a cold rag on her forehead, cringed when the door swung open and slammed against the wall. She groaned in pain, and looked up to see Nack standing in the doorway.

“Everybody get up! The Doc’s throwin’ a fit!”

**********

I recognize this place…

Our group finally rests on top of a grassy hill in the middle of the sweeping, tall reeds. The mid-morning sunlight shone down upon the hill with disdain, and the putrid mocking greenness of it all was sickening. In the distance, at some point in the field, the grasses were burned to a dark black, radiating in an outward circle, with lighter and lighter colors until turning natural again.

I’ve been here before…

Also off in the distance, tiny red spots could be seen splattered around, like an artist cut himself on the tip of his finger and made flicking motions on a photograph of Robotnik’s world. Like round, red faces, staring from the distant ground at me. Hunks of metal debris are scattered around with the blood. Two wooden crosses, set in the ground, can be very faintly seen.

Déjà vu…

I’m introduced to all the villagers, or they introduce themselves. So little, yet so many. Names and faces blur together. Bob, James, Nicole, Dulcy, Daniel, Rick, Ricky, Rocky, Pocky, Pecky, Cucky, Picky, Wocky, Becky, Locky, Tocky, who gives a shit? Squirrels, Walruses, Rabbits, Pigs, Monkeys, Bears, fuck. I don’t want to know these people personally. All I care about is…

After the introductions finish, I stand alone on top of the hill as the group checks their surroundings. We’re at the edge of the forest, and they admire the area around the hill. The ground rolls in great waves, then they level off near the edge of trees that eventually start to form. Despite all of this, I can’t help but catch myself looking towards the horizon, then high above it.

The tree tops, just a little higher than their reach, smog clouding the giant structure, but it could still be seen if you knew what you were looking at. On a clear day, it would be towering, the only real visible thing in the sky, if you could even call it real. Stare at it long enough, and it starts to become part of a bad dream. Live in it long enough, and it becomes your nightmare.

The Death Egg. Even though I can only see the outline of it, it still seems just as foreboding. Only now to a fully realize what I’m up against, when I see it deluded like this. Looking at it with Vaseline smeared on my eyes. Through thick, boggy milk soup. White noise on a projector after the reel runs empty. This is what happens when the world ends.

Static.

I sit down next to Tails, excluded from the group, and we stare off into the distance together. I remember the field…

“I’ve seen this already, haven’t I?”

She nods. “You killed the Monsignor here."

Scratch. “You gonna tell them?" My group of followers.

Her eyes meet mine. “They already know.”

The group is staring at me. All of them.

“They’re taking it well,” I turn back at the Death Egg. Tails goes silent.

One of two things occur when the same word is repeated over and over in your ear: either the word loses meaning, or you start to believe them. The same with images.

Maybe… I can just drown it all out. Like it isn’t there. Stare at it long enough and it’s suddenly insignificant. I can abort it from my mind, drown it in the bathtub. Nobody will know. I can get rid of it.

Before I realize, it’s two hours and my group of freedom fighters still haven’t moved. It’s like in The Odyssey where the group spends too much time with the temptress. But we’re all staring at the same thing. The fucking Death Egg. The false God.

The enemy.

Man, do I need a gun.

**********

‘Bot squads take at least two hours to produce. Snively had overseen the production and sending out of all the ones the Robotnik had requested. He made extra sure that some destruction ‘bots were send to the village where the Crabmeats attacked. Everything was going to be okay.

When Snively walked into the casino, he immediately saw Robotnik, at the same table he left him at, talking with Nack.

Snively groaned, walked to the nearest bar stool and sat down. Too late he saw who he sat next to.

**********

“Isn’t there another way?”

“I’m afraid not, Nack. The city needs power, as do I.”

“But-”

“Try to understand. I wouldn’t be doing this unless it was absolutely necessary.”

“Is this because Bunnie said she had a headache? Because I can force that bitch-”

“No! That’s not it at all. I love your girls. But I have no alternative.”

“How am I going to tell them…”

Pause.

“You don’t have to.”

Pause.

“Huh?”

“I’ll send for them tomorrow, in the morning. You can be conveniently somewhere else, if you wish. No one could know. I just need you to pick some candidates for me.”

“I… I dunno…”

“Oh come on, I’m sure you have some in mind. They can’t all be likable.”

Silence. Long silence.

“I hear… I hear talk of a runaway, Doc.” Pause. “It could all be bullshit, right, but… is there anything you want me to do?”

“… You’re right, Nack. There is a thorn in my side, and at the moment, he’s in real deep. I want him out, but I may underestimate him again, Nack, in which case, if he comes down here, you get rid of him and notify me, alright?”

“You got it, Doc.”

The sweet, inconvenient interruption of laughter.

**********

“What I’m sayin is that you can’t show Schindler’s List and Saving Private Ryan to a bunch of subjects that they themselves are slaves of the one showing the movie. Ya know what I mean?”

Snively nodded disgustedly. Manic and Ashura held him down in his seat, forcing him to listen. Their forceful hands were pushing him far into the stool’s seat, and his back hurt from being weighed down.

“And, yo, what is up with that one hoe, Lain! Man, she is one fucked up bitch.”

Ashura just smiled slightly and nodded. Manic burst out laughing hysterically. Snively could smell the piercing scent of alcohol on their breaths.

“MOTHA FUCKERS!”

The two green hedgehogs looked in the direction of the voice to see Nack getting up from a table and coming towards them. They were going to laugh at him when they saw who had been sitting at the table with him.

The two trouble makers stood silent, barely hearing Nack yell at them. Everything was muffled, as if they were being smothered with pillows. They both saw Robotnik, his head lowered, the collar of his lab coat coming up to his mustache. In slow motion, he turned to meet the eyes of Manic and Ashura. And…

Although they couldn’t see through the lab coat collar, they both knew it was a smile.

**********

After walking through the thick, voided artist’s field and the next monotonous forest, we finally reach our first priority. “The Chemical Plant Zone.” The day is already over halfway over. In the sky, the ball of light is getting lower.

“What does this place do?” I hear Pockey or somebody whisper to me.

The Chemical Plant Zone has silos, thousands of silos, standing randomly about, in the same way the energy arcs do in the Scrap Brain Zone. Each silo has its own storage base for leftover chemicals, made from all of the preservatives soaking beneath the ground. All of the zones have giant tubes buried beneath the surface, deep, where toxic content is diverted away from the water supply and into this area.

What I don’t get is that there aren’t enough silos to keep chemicals safely stored for a period of more than twenty years. It’s not permanent.

“Shut up. Here’s the situation, people. See off in the distance,” I point across the silos stuck in the gritty sand and point to the green valley offshore to the black mass set in the ground, “That’s the Hill Top Zone, next to the Oil Ocean. My plan was to come through the Hill Tops and contact the group there, but we’re a little off target, it seems, and now we don’t have time for it.” They nod. I look up at the fading sun and sigh heavily. “So, for now, here’s the plan. I think there are controls here that can divert the Oil flow from the Hill Top Zone to the Marble Zone. I’m gonna go over there, find a computer terminal, and…”

They don’t understand.

“Anyway, long story short, I need a couple of people to come with me, while all others are on their own.”

Antoine, Tails, and Sally volunteer by raising their hands. I don’t trust anybody else anyway.

“Good. Antoine, pass out the grenades…”

**********

The lights came on. The Spring Yard Zone came into full view for a full two seconds before the lights flickered back out again. Off. On. Off. Flicker, flicker, repeat.

Snively stood next to Doctor. Robotnik, smoothing back what little hair he has left and shuffling his feet.

“Sir… thanks for saving me from those two…”

“Think nothing of it.”

It was a piercing silence, worse than the darkness in between the flickers of light, the followed. Robotnik lowered his head and sighed.

“I haven’t had the dream in awhile, but I had it last night. I thought the trouble was passed, but it wasn’t. Isn’t.”

The lights flickered once or twice once more.

“Last night, Snively, I finished some work I had been doing, or thinking about doing. Our runaway is a problem, and his job was of extreme importance, but I have replaced him.” The Doctor took Snively’s shocked look as a good sign. “That’s part of my surprise for you. After I’m done with my research, and our problem is taken care of, the power should be just enough to get the job done.” He paused to let it sink in. The Doctor hoped that she wouldn’t miss her cue.

“Snively, here is your new job.” The Doc pressed a button on the palmed transmitter in his metal hand and watched the lights at the far end of the room go bright, and remain on. The other lights still flickered, making the multicolored metal stand out even more.

Snively was absolutely amazed at the brilliancy of Robotnik’s work. What he could see was a multicolored suit, shaped like Ashura, Manic, and Sonic, but looked fit for… a human.

“Oh… no.” Epiphany. “I’m supposed to be inside that thing?!”

Snively was a fast learner. The Doctor was pleased at this reaction. “In addition to other projects in the works, this is the one spearheaded by you. I’ve improved the Sonic model in a way that I’ve never done before: non A.I. You, in this suit, will be piloting two other robotic version, only empty shells, of the Sonic model.”

Snively frowned. “Sir, I can’t say that it’s all that efficient. I mean, A.I. can react faster to situations better than I ever could.”

“… Are you saying you want me to Robotosize you, Snively?”

“NO! No, no. I’m just saying that I…”

“You don’t want the job?”

“Well… what will I be piloting?”

“Still in production. I was busy working on something else.”

Snively scoffed. “More!? What is it this time!?”

“I said I replaced Sonic, didn’t I?”

Silence again, only this time stunned. The unnoticed lights keep flickering. On and off. The Doctor’s voice lowered to a whisper.

“I had a brainchild after the dream…”

Snively concentrated hard on the voice, straining to hear above the flickering lights and distant humming.

“A dark, ominous one, like that of a black hole…”

Snively was concentrating so hard on the Doctor that he didn’t hear the footsteps.

“The lights are faded to gray and then black, like the end… the end of existence.”

Snively also didn’t register the shadow behind him.

“Life ends as a dark patch, the opposite of light.”

Snively also didn’t hear the mechanical breathing until it was too late.

“The only way we know we’re right is because we know what isn’t.”

Snively whipped around behind him. The lights in the entire area of the Spring Yard Zone stopped flickering, and all was black. The Doctor’s voice freely echoed around the complex. Snively couldn’t see the multicolored suit anymore.

“The dark sides of things…”

A small, dim spotlight came on, shining a few feet away from Snively. He saw two feet standing at the edge of the circle, and above it… glowing red eyes.

“Snively…”

Snively thinks that Robotnik has the same red eyes, but he’s wrong.

“I want you to meet…”

It’s the goggles that make that illusion.

“My newest model in the line of imperfections…”

Get it over with, already. It’s getting painful.

She didn’t miss her cue. She stepped into the spotlight at the exact moment she was supposed to. Snively was speechless. Robotnik almost had tears in his non-red eyes.

“Shadow.”

**********

Déjà vu again.

You live long enough and you start to think of everything in script format, like random things are thrown in for the sake of suffering, then are conveyed in the most mundane and straightforward of manners, and afterwards expecting a reaction of greater or lesser importance.

Voice Over: At the moment, I’m crawling toward an object of which I have no proof will be there. It’s a necessity for me to have it. I’m goin’ stir crazy here. I need the cold, naked, heavy feel of metal pressed tightly in my hand.

We have in scene three, Sonic, our hero, who kills himself when he realizes how much his life sucks. Blood splatters towards the camera, and a close up of the gun is shown as credits roll.

Fade to black.

One of those philosophical moods, I guess. I crawl at a steady pace towards Scratch’s decapitated body somewhere ahead of me. I can’t see anything ahead of me. The grass smothers it all out. Soon, I should reach the blood covered blades of green that I saw earlier. I still can’t be sure where I’m going, or what direction. I’m being cautious enough not to raise my head above the thin line of the top of the grasses, in case this is a trap.

I felt much better, but I still needed a gun.

Flash back to the Chemical Plant Zone. I used the same computer program that I used last time I hacked into the mainframe. There was no running back and forth this time, though. Sally, Tails, and Antoine were my lookouts.

At least the grass is tall enough to hide my approach. It wouldn’t be enough for what was left of my group, so only I went to get Scratch’s gun. Tails said she left him where he had fallen, but put two makeshift grave markers above his body, to mark where his soul departed. When I left, I told the group I was going to make our chances better, since all we had were some grenades from the Crabmeats. We’d stand a much better chance of I just had a gun.

I had distractions as well. I told the other animals to run around the complex, dropping a grenade into each of the big shiny flashy things I called “the power cores.” I heard explosions rock the foundation where I was, inside silo number twenty-seven, hacking into the mainframe from a remote console. Why they even had it out there I don’t know.

I’m being cautious again, in the field. You can never be too careful. Although this could all be a trap, a vicious one, we’re pressed for time. If I go too slow, use too much of the page, we’ll run long.

NICOLE, the program I used, accused me of being late for my date with her. I told her that I was sorry, and requested information, more than I had already in my head. And boy, did she have some…

In front of me, little specks of artist manifestation splatter everywhere on the green blades. Blood. I can smell it too, mixed with the smell of the grass.

Robotnik is planning something. Besides the fact that he ordered the destruction of the old village of Knothole, and the production of more ‘bots, he has other things in mind.

My headache is returning, and part of me wants to rest. I keep crawling, and bits of wreckage appear in front of me. Obviously, they’re from the HoverUnit. Memories of that first day conveyed all around me, in the blood, the metal, the sky, the pain, the smells, the voice.

Robotnik wants to conquer more territory. He wants more than he already has, the greedy fuck. He’s going after the big prize. He is so dead. I’m so gonna fucking kill him, right when I get the chance.

The grave markers, and they’re right where they should be. Scratch would have been sneering at me if he still had his head. His gun still clutched in his left hand, the right’s fingers snapped off, I move forward. Closer. Closer.

NICOLE asked me when I would be back. First I rerouted the oil flow controls to the Marble Zone before I gave my reply.

My fingers clasp around the gun and I stand up.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh fuck!”

KABOOM!

‘Bots all around hold their weapons at me. Buzzbombers flying in circles somewhere. Motobugs and their fucking big guns swerved and locked and loaded. Shit.

Sally had dropped a grenade into the core, and it was like throwing fire on gasoline. The heat of the exploded grenade heats the core to blinding hot because of a chemical reaction I know nothing about. NICOLE on the computer mainframe started to blink out at me, but not before I saw her last words that she displayed.

I’m too surprised to think for a sec, then I sigh and shoot at the nearest ‘bot, which I guess is a Motobug. I dive back into the grass as projectiles and lethal power discharges lance over my head.

NICOLE was my own creation, my program, like Robotnik and his robots, and me. I abused her as well, but I don’t program her to feel anything. I don’t know where she gets the idea to ask me out on dates.

I’m rolling end over end in the grasses, the gun gripped in my hand, and I get up when I think I’m a good distance away and I start running. I see the trees in the distance, as well as the second half of the Freedom Fighters crouched in hiding at the edge. I’m ignoring them and darting left and right, firing behind me at the ‘bots. I figure if I keep updating my position they can’t get a fix on me, once again. It’s working at first, then a shot hits me in the back and I fall back down to the ground. Déjà vu.

“Let’s go.” I said to Sally. Me and her, we gathered Antoine and Tails and we bolted the hell out of there. Just next to the door, I felt the shaking. Outside, chaos reined. Silos were tipping over and hitting the ground with muffled earthquakes, making sand fly everywhere. At that moment, sand was raining from the sky, but it was manna enough to me.

So, I’m on the ground, bleeding from yet another wound that won’t kill me right away, and I become philosophical. The voice comes into my head again.

Amazingly, it seemed that everyone finished their job at the same time. I was outside and I looked to my left and right to see all the freedom fighters running with me. The sand falling everywhere and the crashing made it look like an extremely coordinated assault. I don’t know if that's a good thing or not.

“You have a gun now, Sonic.”

I reached the edge of trees first, and I waited for the others to get to me. We watched, all together, as one as the Chemical Plant Zone was destroyed. And… they were cheering. And laughing. They were shaking each other’s hands and slapping each other’s backs. And I’m not exaggerating this, but every single person gave Tails a hug. It was quite a sight, and it was obvious she didn’t know how to respond. And just as I was about to break up the party, Sally came over and gives me a kiss full on the lips.

“Blow your fucking brains out.”

When it died down a little, I told the group the new plan.

“Why else would you use a gun?”

“Some people need to stay behind. In the morning, when the sun rises completely above the trees, this is when you will begin your next mission.”

I need to get a good line of sight on the ‘bots coming my way. I can hear them, almost too loudly, getting closer to me.

“The valves are under the black sludge. You can’t see when you go under it, so you might as well keep your eyes closed. Swim straight down, don’t deviate from your course, and you should reach it on the first try, and then you’ll live to open your eyes again. Turn the wheels ALL THE WAY to the right, or you fail, and we’re still slaves. The rest of us will wait for your return at the exit.”

Because I can’t think of anything better to do, I start crawling, this time away from Scratch’s body. I feel around my back for the hole, searching, searching.

“Robotnik isn’t stupid. He knows what we’re trying to do. After Group Two shuts off the valves, Group One will hold the doorway in the Marble Zone open long enough for the other group to get back. We have to stay strong if this is going to work.”

The shot landed in the center of the two other wounds, making one big gaping abyss. More of the artist’s manifestation is spilling on his blades of grass. I’m starting to wonder how much blood I have left in me. It almost seems impossible for someone to be alive after all of this. It’s another wound I can’t fix by myself. All I can do is keep crawling, but even that doesn’t help much.

“All of us are going to die. Either on the outside or in here. You can choose where you want it to be.”

I’m crawling and crawling, and it’s been so long that I don’t know why I haven’t pulled the trigger yet. The gun pressed against my chest, so cold and distant, yet so warm and near. All I have to do is obey, and I already know how to do that.

“You guys know how to swim, right?”

All of a sudden, I hear screaming.

“Good. Antoine… you can lead the group that stays here. Pick the ones you want.”

Not screams of pain, but screams of death. Haggard battle cries.

He picked Sally, be she refused, and she still came back with me. We left our companions, half of what we once were, and headed back.

The freedom fighters. They’re the ones screaming. Despite the danger behind me, I bring my head up.

We didn’t rest this time, and when we came upon the field again, from a different angle, and the gun looked so close to me that retrieving it would seem like the easiest thing I’d ever done. It was at that time I told the group where I was going.

They’re running. Running at the ‘bots behind me, carrying sticks and stones and whatever they could grab. Are they fucking retarded?!

So, I was crawling towards the gun, and at first I started thinking about the new territory Robotnik wanted to conquer. Whatever his plan was, it involved a flying machine of some sort. Also, it’s something in the sky that he wants, and by the looks of the amount of preparation, it’s not going to be easy taking it. Whoever runs that place is one tough hombre.

None of them are being cut down by weapons fire. The ‘bots weren't made to attack these people, only bring them for Robotosization, willfully. They didn’t expect this. Resistance.

And so here I am, lying in the grass, gaping hole in my back, and I’m deciding whether or not I can go on with this. If I should just end my existence here instead of just trying. There is no peace while your living, but in death you can find it.

I think that because of the hard plastic, I'll have to aim the gun in either my mouth, my heart, or my eye.

Blood still flows through the body even ten seconds after the heart is destroyed. The Doctor made sure to point this out in movies, whenever bad guys were shot in the heart and immediately fell down and died. The only way that would happen would be if it hit the spinal cord.

If you don’t aim correctly when shooting yourself in the eyes, you'll just become a vegetable. You have to aim for the brain stem, cut off the heart rate and lung controller, and you’re guaranteed a place in the afterlife. The brain stem is also called the medulla oblongata.

Since when did suicide become so hard? Where did all of these rules come from?

Fuck this.

I get up from the grass and fire off shot after shot into the crowd of ‘bots. The animals haven’t reached them yet, but they’re still screaming at the top of their lungs. Before I waste my ammo, I drop the gun and start running after them.

The group reaches the ‘bots before I do, and they’re mimicking me from the day before. They’re ripping off shell casing and pounding eye stalks. The ‘bots fight back, but are still in disarray. This is exactly what happened with Rotor. He took on four of them at once.

I see different ‘bots raising their weapons at the crowd, and each time I run towards it and buzz saw it in half.

It does get easier.

Sally’s fighting like a raving psycho. She’s biting off limbs, she’s kicking, and she’s punching like an animal trapped in a cage, which isn’t so far from the truth. Blood’s dripping from her mouth and her knuckles are raw from the pounding. From this angle she’s not so bad looking.

Tails, the one I thought was sweet and innocent, is picking up ‘bots and dropping them from a dangerous height.

Through all of this, nobody dies except the machines. I have no idea how this happened. Maybe they snapped out of their stupor and decided to fight back, harshly and without regard. Innocence lost.

Robotnik sent these ‘bots here to bring me back. When he finds out that they’re all destroyed, it won’t be principle anymore… it will be war.

We stop fighting and nothing is left. Parts are scattered so far that they reach both edges of the trees. All the freedom fighters breathe heavily, and hunch over themselves. They all vomit. And despite this, they get up and they cheer.

This grass will never be green again.

**********

Nack leaned back in his chair and sighed. He finished his list about two hours prior, but yet had turned it in to the Doctor.

The names on it, even though they were some of his worst prostitutes, they were still his. And he hated giving something up.

He looked at the name at the top of the list, and sighed.

“Sorry, girl,” he said to himself, “But you shouldn’t have gotten a headache.”

And with that, he went to go turn in his list.

**********

Snively walked cautiously up to Robotnik in his laboratory.

“Hello, my dear boy. You have come just in time. I was putting the finishing touches on what you’ll be controlling.”

Snively looked at what the Doctor was working on. It appeared to be another version of the Sonic model, only cased in silver. He also noticed Shadow standing against the far wall to the right, eyeing Snively suspiciously.

“Um… sir, I have bad news.” He was not going to like this at all. “The Chemical Plant Zone is unsalvageable. All of the power cores were destroyed.” Robotnik stopped working and turned around. “Also, sir, two hours ago, we lost contact with our attack ‘bots.”

The Doctor lowered his head.

“They’re gone, sir.”

At first, silence. Then Robotnik let out a cry of rage and slammed his fist into the abdomen of the Silver Sonic model. It let out a clang that echoed through the entire room. Shadow, barely visible in the corner, smiled.

Robotnik pulled his metal fist away, revealing the imprint in the model’s casing. He held his fist in his hand. “Make more.”

“SIR!”

“Make one hundred ‘bots, streamlined, and send half of them to the Hill Top Zone, and the other half to the Marble Zone. Full attack percentage. I want everyone who fights to die.” Snively groaned. The Doctor picked up a wrench. “I know what the little fucker is trying to do.”

He turned his head towards Shadow. Eggman grinned at her beneath his lab coat collar.

“It’s war.”

**********

I’m in Sally’s hut, and I can feel her steady breathing next to me. She sounds contented enough.

When we got back to our village in the forest, she asked me to join her in her hut. Intrigued at what she could possibly want, I followed her.

“I…” she started to say.

I waited patiently for her to speak, but instead she came closer to me.

“I like you,” Sally said as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

I just stared at her.

“A lot,” She said, her face very close to mine.

She just liked the way I looked. Or she was looking for a change of pace.

I shrugged in her arms. “Okay,” I said indifferently.

Behind Sally lay her bed. She tipped herself backward and we fell.

“Come on,” she said. “Don’t you find me attractive?”

A little. I nodded.

“Well… let’s do it, then.”

The problem wasn’t whether or not she was attractive. The problem was that even though I liked her, I still hated her. But-

She kissed me, this time slipping her tongue in. I wrapped my arms around her.

That fucking pervert of a Doctor. He made me fully equipped.

Some time in the middle of it, I told her that, for one, I had never done this before, and two, she would have to tell me what she wanted.

And she did.

It seemed that it was all I was good for, just being told what to do.

I’m not driven by this. Fucking, I mean. Sex. Most mammals are. I’m not. What makes me move, what makes me want to continue…

Happiness.

Not mine. I couldn’t give a shit about myself. Well…

It’s like this. Sally needs me to fuck her to be happy. The animals need to be free to be happy.

It’s what I do. I reduce suffering. I go get you your coffee in the morning. I give you money when you ask for some. I feed you soup when you’re sick. I cook your favorite food for you that’s so hard to make. A slave to myself to someone else to someone else, on and on. Metaphorically, of course. Wasn’t sure if I was clear on that…

“Here, borrow my car. Take my wallet. Can’t stand your life? Here’s a bullet in the head. Here, jump on me, have your way with me. Just don’t expect me to really care about you.”

Well, we’re in our third position, I’m sitting up and Sally in on my lap, but I couldn’t see her because my face was buried in her chest. It’s here where I started to feel like a porn star, except there was no camera around.

I must have been doing good, since she wanted even more of it. I heard her muffled cries as she rode me up and down. It had been going on for two hours, and the sun went down. I missed the sunset.

“We have a battle tomorrow,” I said to her. “You won’t have enough strength to escape.”

You’ll regret this in the morning, in other words. Maybe even before then. As soon as your orgasm subsides, you won’t want to see me anymore.

“Please,” she said in between gasps. “I need this…”

Don’t say it.

“I need you.”

Don’t say it.

“I love you.”

Shit. She said it. Great, Sally loves me. NICOLE's last words flash…

“I LOVE YOU, SONIC.”

I didn’t program her to feel, and yet she does. It’s a malfunction.

Emotions are like that.

It could be because it’s the best sex she’s ever had, but I wonder. Usually they shout “Oh God!” when they’re being ridden hard and deep. Or so I’ve seen. Or so it should be.

Sally keeps out the God part, I think because I took that away from her. Now she’s taken something from me. We’re even now.

Well, almost.

It’s finally over, and she lay next to me, sweating, and she turned towards me and smiles.

“Thank you.”

“Glad to help.”

She wrapped her arms around my waist and sighed contently.

“I can leave if you want.”

“No, I want you to stay.”

Fuck, she really does love me. Again, I have no idea how this happened. She gets off on me, I get off on her happiness. It’s a cycle.

“This isn’t some one night stand," she said to me, almost asleep. “I don’t care if you get us out here or not. What matters is that we try. If we die, we die together, in here or out there.”

She set her head against my chest and fell asleep. And for some reason, afterwards, I do too.

**********

The biggest tease in the world is thinking you’re invincible and finding out you’re not.
If we’re all happy, we’re bored. Nothing happens. It may as well be inexistence. So I’ve grown, but so what? Look where it’s gotten me…

It’s all pointless in the past. It matters in the moment.

All this negative shit is making me fucking depressed. If I had a gun, I’d shoot myself.

If I had a finger, I’d pull the trigger.

If I had a hand, I’d move my finger.

I could go on and on, but it wouldn’t matter. The puddle on the floor is already bigger than me, than both of us.

My only witness to my account are the unmoving eyes that glow at me from behind the thick dark.

The End of Tuesday