Source...
Hello everyone. I'm here again to share with you another project for "Talent Tuesdays". Many of you know me by my mixed media art projects. However, I wanted to begin my 2025 participation in FreeCompliments Community by sharing my short fiction stories, the majority of which are in the form of freewrites.
My current short story freewrite titled is titled "The Exchange". My inspiration for the story was based on the @daily.prompt's publishing of 25 December 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2597: a silver coin; together with several other prompts listed below:
This Part 2 is the continuation of "The Exchange". I hope you enjoy the conclusion.
But first, a short recap of Part 1:
Amos sat miserable and discontent, drained from recollections of seasons past. Howling wind severed the connection and stirred him to the present. He rose slowly from the recliner then removed his glasses. His shoulders stiffened as he squinted and stared into the blazing fireplace embers.
A few moments later, he closed his eyes and allowed the negative energy to drain and dissipate into the flames.
Inhaling a deep, crackly breath, he wiped his hands together as if to cast off an unpleasant memory. He had all he desired and no need to extend invitations for the holidays. But, they have his contact information.
He turned and spotted the large, gaudy group Christmas card smiling mirthlessly up at him from the nearby side table. It was everything he loathed about the individuals. The photo of them celebrating the season with a company-endorsed lavish party, gifting high-end jewelry and other precious stones irked him.
The cult. By this, Amos meant like-minded family members he assigned to the group who shunned him for not worshiping their society's Wealth Accumulation Value Echelon scheme, referred to as the WAVE.
He viewed the entire culture as indoctrination since his family and others believed the program propelled one onto the fast track to upper middle class Noedstonian society.
All one needed was a silver coin.
Amos grabbed the scissors from the mantle and created a cut-out leaving only his youngest sister, Annetta, visible holding hands with her husband and daughter. He smiled, then curled his lip as he watched the remainder of the cult float softly toward the blaze as though being drawn to their fate.
Was it kind to wish harm to his family. No. It was just, he concluded. What happened to them and the entire state robbing them of their simplistic standard of life was unjust. But one didn't have to acclimate to it, he thought, remembering hearing that word from his oldest sister.
His lips wouldn't part to admit what he already suspected. Next month would be year fifty the ICO moved into the ten-acre industrial complex beyond the edge of town.
In the distance, a siren blasted calling for fourth shift workers. He hurriedly dressed in citrine uniform that identified this employment level status within the company. Tucking the silver coin inside his mesh undergarment completed his work attire.
He stood next to the round, antique mirror and lowered it just above the dresser. Staring back at him was a short, stout neck attached to overly broad shoulders. Thick, bushy eyebrows overshadowed large, round hazy eyes. Confident in his appearance, his stubby fingers glided the length of his long mustache.
Outside, the weather was bleak.
It didn't matter that ICO was only thirty minutes away. Blistering snow hampered his progress as he waited behind a line of headlights.
Tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel did nothing to calm his urge, so he reached down between the worn leather seat and fumbled around until his fingers grasp the triangular tube. Only half a pack left. He'd need to pace himself or face a harsh penalty.
Clean Living. The ICO's philosophy of a joke gone awry decades ago. Underground it fled for the truly desperate who refused corrective therapy. But the urge proved costly. And a cost effective-lifestyle was an essential tool in adoption of the "Clean Living" code of ethics.
Minutes before shift change, he arrived. He hurriedly clocked in, mindful to register his man number before following the directional sign and reported to his primary department.
His orders were explicit. The next forty-eight hours belonged to him. Area 199 would be patrolled by Amos Goodall, Level 1 Janitor. He retrieved the key from the Security Holding Station, then proceeded toward the entrance door.
Stopping short of opening the stark, white steel metal blockade, Amos reached into his hand-held tool kit, removed the specialty goggles, and stepped across the threshold.
Now, Part 2:
The blazing sun shone relentlessly on the immaculately-paved roads ahead. Behind protective goggles, Amos followed with precision the perpendicular orange roads as they merged, then branched out in several directions, shimmering in the heat of the noon sun.
He glanced up and watched as sparklers surrounded several skyscrapers that protruded into the scorching sky. Nothing overhead.
With wide eyes, he scoured the barren landscape as far beyond the city as allowed attempting to capture any hazards in one glance. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and replaced his cap. So far, quiet in Sector 91. He touched several buttons on the hand-held monitor and returned the security detection unit to his back pocket.
A good start to the foot patrol.
But his toes were already beginning to throb as blisters were the culprit
The Security Holding Unit of ICO refused to furnish vehicles to individuals assigned to their division. These devices were essential, Amos felt, for purposes of assisting in their patrol duties. That basic need he didn't understand, especially for people of a certain age classification. But then there existed numerous aspects about ICO he didn't understand.
For instance, the organization's name: Interdisciplinary Consortium Orbit.
The ICO. As far as Amos could piece together, so far there existed four branches. He was given access to the southern region, where he was assigned. But rumors had spread of three other operations. Workers on his shift rotated in and out, but weren't allowed to discuss their assigned units. Strictly forbidden was the spread of gossip. The stark, white walls knew all.
His heart grew somber. One of the complexes housed his parents who were assigned and transported there. Roy, another janitor whom Amos had met last year, confirmed citizens older than them were restricted to the ICO unit in the northern part of the country.
Amos tried and failed several times to reach them, but his messages were confiscated. Amos could no longer have contact with Roy.
What Amos did learn was that his parents resided in an restricted area of the ICO complex. Deemed a security risk, no contact was allowed. No other information could be ascertained about that particular complex.
ICO ensured that the complex was regarded as a safe facility. Mysterious clinic, if you ask me, Amos sighed, his nose flaring each time his thoughts turned to the situation. It would've been nice to visit them after five years.
A dark skyline harboring ominous clouds approached. Instantly, a gust of wind intermingled with particles that resembled sand surrounded Amos, interrupting his thoughts. He flung his hat off and waved it in all directions, but to no avail.
As quickly as the particles descended, they lifted.
In the aftermath, Amos stood battling the effects of fine, sticky soil and other items encased in the wind from his uniform. So preoccupied was he that he failed to notice immediately behind him no more than two feet away stood another male.
In silence, the male advanced toward him. Slowly at first, then within minutes, it stood in front of him, towering over him at least three feet.
Motionless, the man's large-rimmed eyes scanned Amos' frame. He didn't initially notice Amos rubbing the back of the neck. He did eye him clutching the silver coin and alternately fingering its necklace.
Programmed to investigate any unusual sightings within Section 91, the man moved in closer and extended his hand toward Amos' neck. His eyes glowed amber.
Without warning, Amos watched as the male reached for his necklace.
For a moment, it was as if Amos' mind stalled. He stood staring at the male and its hand that resembled that of a man counterpart; but didn't. Amos couldn't explain the vision.
Then immediately, from deep within, a voice rose up. He didn't know whether it was his parents or just pure survival instinct, but he shrank back shaking his head violently. A stab of fear attacked him.
Uncertain as to what his next move would be, he merely jerked a sharp breach, then screamed, "Thief! You're trying to rob me of my life!"
Amos reached inside his pocket for the security monitor, but instead his hand grasp hold of another device. Pulling out the large whistle from his youth, he blew into the device.
The male quickly scanned his memory for the exotic gems section in The Book of Values. In a taunt tone, he questioned, "is that in your possession a gold piece?" as he steadily advanced toward Amos. The closer the male came, the more vertical he became as though one of the skyscrapers now leaned over him, ready to exact avenge his snooping.
"No, it's silver. A silver coin. A lifesaver unit. It's mine. And you can't have it!" Amos shouted in a short, raspy voice.
His knees went weak. Finally, he staggered a short distance way, then fell to the ground, breathless. Amos could only watch in terrified horror as the male moved in, his amber eyes and steely electrified hands within inches of his neck.
Amos kicked as hard as he could. Kick him harder, he commanded his feet, but the intense pain from the blisters wouldn't allow retaliation.
[to be continued]
26 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2628: kick him harder
4 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2637: mysterious clinic
If you'd like to visit Part 1 of my story, the link is listed below:
SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
1 What is Stable Diffusion? StarryAI.Com. Online at: https://starryai.com/stable-diffusion