The Sound Of My Vendetta (A Killjoy Stori/Fanfiction)

The Beginning

Sonik Soundwave April 6, 2013

I should probably start where all things start: at the beginning. I was a normal kid once, before BL/Ind; before all this mess. Yes, once I was a normal kid with a mom, a dad, and an older brother.
The world had just recently ended. Or that's what we called it. It was more of a war often referred to as the Helium War. Whatever it was called, however, did not change the fatality factor. I was twelve in 2007 when my parents took us into an underground shelter. A whole year had passed when we came out. The world looked so different; so barren. The trees I'd enjoyed climbing as a child were gone. I remember my brother and I had been skeptic about the world actually dying when we fled to safety..but it had. Now all of us that remained had to start over, and it wasn't easy. That's where Better Living Industries comes in.
Better Living Industries was intent upon perfection. The corporation was persistent in its desire to eliminate all crime, pain, and any other kind of stressor or trouble. However, taking away these negative things also took away some positive things like freedom and individualism.
I was a freshman and my brother was a junior at Battery City High School, a school that was established after the war. BL/Ind was becoming more and more popular among the survivors and even began taking control of pre-apocalypse institutions like law enforcement. It was around that same time that my BL/Ind-issued radio broke. I wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with it, but I didn't want to fix it. It played a radio station I couldn't get on any other radio in the house. The host was called himself Dr. Death Defying, and every morning at 9:00 on the dot, he would begin his message.
"Look alive, Sunshine. 109 in the sky, but the pigs won't quit! You're here with me, Dr. Death Defying. I'll be your surgeon; your proctor; your helocoptor. Pumping out the slautomatic sounds to keep you live. System failure for the masses! Anti-matter for the master plan! Louder than God's revolver, and twice as shining! This one's for all you rock'n'rollers; all you crash queens and motor babies! Listen up! The furture is bulletproof! The aftermath is secondary! Its time to do it now and do it loud! Killjoys! Make some noise!"
A song would play every morning after that. It was about never dying, and I loved it.
"Nellie, come on! Toss the football with me!" my brother yelled one day as I sat listening to my special station. He was so unconcerned with the things our parents were trying to hide from us; the things BL/Ind was doing to maintain perfection in their supposed utopia.
BL/Ind specialized in anti-depressants. They would deliver pills to people's doorsteps like an old-fashioned milk man. Have a problem? Take the pill and Keep Smiling. All your worries will disappear. Keep Smiling. It was the slogan for 'Better Living' Industries, and it came on every pill bottle that arrived at our front door every morning.
"Coming Owen!" I shouted back as I stood and turned off the radio. I tossed that stupid ball back and forth with him for close to four hours. Today was the day my band was supposed to come over for a practice. Owen was to be our audience.
When the girls all arrived with their instruments, we set up in the garage. I gathered eveyone and motioned to my brother. "Timmy, Jo, Larry, Silver, this is my brother, Owen. He is completely off limits!" I laughed, "Owen, the girls."
"Let's kick it," Owen chuckled as he leaned against his car. Timmy was our lead guitarist. She helped me write music for the songs I came up with. Silver, one of my best friends, wrote harmonies for it. Larry was the bassist, and one of the founding members of the band. Jo, the drummer, was the newest addition.
"So I found this song crumpled up on the street. I liked it a lot and whoever wrote it has fun handwriting, so here goes," I explained as the girls began to play, "1-2-3-4! Oh! 3-2-1! We came to fuck! Everybody party 'till the gasman comes! Sparkle like Bowie in the morning sun, and get a parking violation in La Brea 'till it's done! Hair back, collar up, jet black, so cool! Single out the kids that are mean to you! When you wanna be a movie star. Play the game and take a band real far. Play it right and drive a Volvo car! Pick a fight at an airport bar! The kids don't care if you're alright, Honey. Pills don't help, but it sure is funny! Gimmie gimmie some of that Vampire Money, Come on!"
We'd only gotten to do that one song when BL/Ind officials made their way up our driveway in their glaringly white suits and signature smiley-face BL/Ind masks. We all glared at the three of them. We were probably the only kids on the block who didn't take their stupid pills.
"We're sorry, kids, but we got a complaint. You're going to have to shut this down. You're disturbing the peace, and the better living," one said.
Owen jumped up. "Fuck the 'better living!' Life could have happened without you!" He spat at their feet. A chorus of yeahs rang out from the girls behind me. The official that had spoken stepped in and punched Owen in the face. I leapt forward to defend my brother and was restrained by one of the other two officials. There was a reason they were called pigs in some instances.
The last official joined in the beating of my brother. They kicked his head and stomach as he made futile attempts to defend himself. The girls stood, frozen in horror at what was happening before them. I bit the hand of the man holding me. He yelped in pain, but held tighter.
Silver, noticing my attempt to free myself, sprang into action. She dropped her instrument and pulled one of the officials away from Owen. Without hesitation, he pulled out his raygun and shot her with it. He didn't stop there either. The other girls, who were getting ready to attack too, were also shot.
My friends were dead. My brother was on the ground, bloodied and unconscious. I was being dragged away by two officials of BL/Ind, as the third placed pill bottles on our door step.
"She's struggling too much!" one of the officials complained. The third shrugged and hit me over the head with the butt of his raygun. It hurt, and my vision went black as I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was in a white room much like one imagines a hospital to look. There was a tall bald man in fancy clothes circling me like a shark.
"Well, well, what have we here?" he asked, appraising me with seemingly little interest.
"This is the girl with the disturbing racket, Korse, sir," one of the officials answered without hesitation. I looked over at him and then back at the bald man.
"Not a killjoy? Korse inquired, his eyebrows raising as he looked at the official.
"No, Sir, Not that we know of," the same official replied. Korse shook his head and then turned to face the officials.
"If she is not a killjoy, then take her back," Korse commanded. He grabbed the closest official's suit and muttered, "None of this happened, understood?" The official nodded vigorously as Korse shoved him away. Korse gave me a final glance and stalked away down the hall.
To this day, I don't think he knew I'd heard him. I watched as he walked away, fascinated with what I'd just witnessed. It was then that I felt that same pain in my head. I'd been knocked out again. I was unconscious for goodness knows how long, but when I woke up, I was in my front yard.
"Nellie! Nellie, there you are! What happened? What did they do to you?" My mother cried as she rushed out of the house to help me up. I stood and wobbled a little from my sudden consciousness.
"Nothing, Mom, I'm fine," I lied. She didn't challenge it. As we headed towards the house, I noticed the blood stain on the drive way. Owen. As if reading my mind, my mother stopped me.
"Nellie, he's not.." she paused and took a deep breath, "He's not doing too well." I could feel my eyes welling tears. I shoved her hand from where it held my arm and ran inside. My father was placing an ice pack over Owen's wrapped head. An ice pack. As if that would help. Owen tilted his head a little and smiled at me. I smiled back and went to sit beside him.
"Hey Nellie," Owen coughed. I smiled and placed his football in the crook of his arm, just as he'd carry it in a real game. He smiled a little wider and told me to lean in close, so I did. He whispered, "The extra money is under the second stair." He laughed a little. So did I.
I leaned in close again. "You're going to be okay." I couldn't tell if that was a statement or a question. Owen shook his head slowly and told me to listen.
"Remember that you only live forever in the lights you make. When we were young we used to say that you only hear the music when your heart begins to break. Now we are the kids from yesterday," he said quietly.
I was about to say something when Owen closed his eyes. I felt the dying fire of his soul go out. My brother died that day, and I'll never forget it, or the words he said to me.
The rest of high school seemed meaningless, knowing my brother wouldn't be there to see me graduate; knowing that he'd never walk across the stage himself. BL/Ind continued to grow in power, taking control of the city. In my junior year, my parents presented me with a raygun. They told me that I had a bulletproof heart and that I should have something to protect it from the lasers.
The only part of senior year that I remember was the end of it. After my parents took me out to eat in celebration of my graduation, I went out to a couple parties with my friends. I wasn't supposed to be home until the next day, but I returned home early due to a migraine.
I drove Owen's old car and my parents shared a car. When I pulled into the drive way, their car was there as I expected. I figured it would be dark in the house when I walked in. It was somewhere in the early hours of the morning, meaning my parents were probably asleep.
I dropped my keys on the front table and looked around. My parent's door was wide open. They usually slept with their door closed. I turned on a lamp and made my way over to close their door, only to discover that they were not asleep in bed as I'd guessed.
Panic swept over me. My parents don't ever do anything. Really. They spent their time either at work or at home. Where could they possibly be? I ran to check where they usually left notes, but there was nothing.
I called my mom's cell phone. No answer. I called my dad's. No answer. Frustrated, I tried my mom's again. The other end picked up, but I wasn't greeted by my mother's voice. Instead, I could hear shouting and rayguns firing.
"That's right, Killjoys, run!"
"Get them to the Safety Hall!"
I slammed the phone back down on the reciever. No. What? I didn't know what I'd just heard, but I did know one thing. Both of those last two voices were familiar. I sat down on the couch, deciding to wait until my parents got home to ask them about it. I waited..and waited. It wasn't until an hour later that I got the call. I jumped up to answer it.
"Hello? Is this Miss Arké?" the man's voice said over the phone.
"It is. May I ask who is calling?" I answered politely.
"This is Doctor Oswell from the emergency hospital. I was told to call you about Kayla and Joseph Arké?" My heart skipped a beat. The panic I'd supressed so well in my hour of waiting came flooding back.
"What happened!? Are they alright?!"
"I regret to inform you that they have passed away. They were in a car accident a little while ago and--" I pulled the phone away from my ear and collapsed back onto the couch. When I put the phone back up to my ear, the man was still talking, "I'm so sorry."
My anger flared to life as I listened to his last words. "NO YOU'RE NOT!" I screamed, "You're lying! Their car is here! Just--! I'll be there in a minute." The phone hit the receiver with deafening finality. I grabbed my keys and stormed out the door, past my parents' car, and to my own.
In my haste and anger, I nearly hit the mailbox. Tears blurred my vision, but somehow I managed to get to the hospital. I sat there in the parking lot for a moment. My knuckles were white as I still gripped the steering wheel as if for dear life.
When I got into the hospital, I marched over to the lady at the desk. "Kayla and Joseph Arké," I hissed. She smiled sadly at me and pointed down the hall, quietly saying the room number and asking if I was their daughter. "I am their daughter," I growled as I turned away from her and began down the hall.
I stopped outside the door, bracing myself for what I was about to see. I could hear people in the room talking. There were definitely more than two..but how many?
I took a deep breath and stepped into the doorway, taking in the scene before me. Three people stood together, quietly discussing something I was not concerned with. The woman noticed me first and nodded in my direction. The two others, both men, one of which I assumed to be the doctor, turned to look at me as well.
"Who is she?" The woman asked no one in particular. Green eyes glared at me distrustingly from over a pair of generic sunglasses that sat low on her nose. Her orange hair tumbled down to her shoulders loosely. "You haven't followed us from BL/Ind have you?" she addressed me directly.
I threw her a look of disgust and the man beside her grinned. "Ugh. Never. Are you sick in the head?" I grumbled as I entered the room. I walked over to where my parents were. They were in separate gurneys. It was expected. Rarely do you see two people in the same gurney.
The man beside her exchanged glances with the woman. He had sunglasses on as well, hiding his eyes from me. His hair was a medium-dark brown.
"You'll have to excuse Lucy. We're all on edge. You must be Nellie," he said. He sounded like the school counselor after Owen died. I nodded slowly, not looking at them. The doctor announced that he had to check on 'Dr. D' and then left the room, closing the door behind him. The man took off his sunglasses, revealing gray eyes. The woman pulled hers up to rest on her head.
"This is Lucy Thife, and I'm Gordon Fennel," the man continued, "I guess you figured out the truth about your parents." I looked up at them then. I'd never seen them before. They were younger than my parents, but still much older than me. How did they even know my parents?
"The truth? I know they didn't die in a car accident, if that's what you mean," I scoffed. I gazed at my parents. "But I want answers. Starting with how my parents really died," I told them.
"Your parents were Sympathizers. Aids in the fight against BL/Ind," Lucy explained, "Your mother and father ran to help fight when the radio station was ambushed, and they were captured."
Gordon frowned and added, "We got to BL/Ind as soon as we could, but no one had gotten there in time. Korse, the top exterminator in the Scarecrow Unit, killed them right there, without giving them a chance to fight back." The memory of Owen attempting in vain to protect himself against the officials' blows flashed in my mind. When I looked up at the two adults, both seemed to be showing genuine emotion for their fallen comrades.
Korse, the man from years ago, had murdered my parents.
"BL/Ind is trying to strip us of our individuality. They've developed ways of doing as they please: pills, messages, rules. All to make you believe you're safe. And Sympathizers aid the Killjoys from within Battery City," Lucy explained. She must have read my expression after, because she went on, "The Killjoys are rebels against BL/Ind. Exterminators like Korse, hunt and dust the Killjoys for a living."
I'd heard the term 'dust' before. It meant kill. Shit..
"Dr. Death Defying says something about Killjoys every morning. Does that have anything to do with this?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Dr. Death Defying is the radio host. That's the wake up call for the Killjoys. How do you get that? We don't even get it," he scoffed.
I shrugged. "My radio broke."
On the radio in my car, the music was slowly disappearing, being replaced by messages from BL/Ind. It's not like there was anything good on to listen to anyway. But whenever I got home and listened to my broken radio, there was always something amazing. If I could get it on any other radio in the city, I would listen to it everywhere.
"You said Killjoys fight against BL/Ind?" I inquired.
"Absolutely," Gordon confirmed.
"How old do you have to be to be a Killjoy?"
Lucy spoke first. "Well, there are only four Killjoys. I guess they're about your age," Lucy answered, "Dr. D knows the most about it though. He has the most contact with them."
I looked over at my parents in their hospital beds. Lucy and Gordon silently exited the room. This was my moment alone.
"Well, should I see if I can be a Killjoy, Mom?" I whispered, knowing she wouldn't answer me. I scanned over them with my teary blue eyes. "Or should I just run?" I asked out loud, again, knowing no one would answer. I reached down to make my parent's hands touch. They deserved to hold hands. "I don't know what to do.." I whimpered as tears rolled down my cheeks.
When I took my mother's wrist, a mask fell to the floor. I picked it up and examined it. On the outside, the mask was colorful, but on the inside, it was covered in a million little phrases.
'We'll Never Die!' 'Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back!' 'Sing It For The World!' and other things too. But the one that mattered to me most went all the way around the mask. It said 'Gravity don't mean too much to me, I'm who I've got to be! These pigs are after me, after you. Lead the way. Like it was yesterday. We'll never run away, run away from here!'
I had my answer. I held the mask to my heart and intertwined my parents hands. Then went into the adjoined bathroom to wash my face. I stared at myself in the mirror for a few minutes. For the first time in my life, I could see both of them in my face. My father's stubbornness. My mother's kindness. They went well together. Just like my parents.