World building one-shots collection

Indentured Conscription

-something something cyberpunk something something cliche horror-

The year is 2053. The world has fallen into a cyberpunk dystopia were the rich prosper and the poor suffer. Large nation have done away with their armies, enlisting the use of large PMCs driven purely by war profiteering. Theyre cheaper than maintaining an army and only ask for the worlds most expendable resource, human lives. this is were the poorest could make a living, where Jason moorre was currently fighting for another paycheck. Where Jason played at the game of life with a rigged dealer.

-

Black spots. where they always there? I dont think so. Ringing, why are my ears ringing? Am I not wearing my helmet? When did everything get so blurry. These thoughts rushed through Jason's head, deafening his senses to the outside world, numbing the pain he was in, blocking out the memory of how he got here.

"Why do I taste blood?" He whispered, his voice nearly inaudible to even himself. he tried to bring his left arm up, to wipe the blood that had gotten into his mouth, but his arm was oddly numb. So he tried his other arm, and got the same feeling. Annoyed, he tried to sit up with little success and a massive spike of pain.

It took a few seconds, but jason forgot about the pain somehow, refocused on moving. he turned his head to the left, to see what was going. He wished he hadnt. starting at the shoulder his left arm was all hut missing, his bicep hanging on by a few small bloody strands of muscle and tissue, going down to his elbow where his forearm and hand where no where to be seen. blood was pooling quickly. confused, he looked to his right and saw a massive tear right where his right arm should be. the top of his bicep layed there, bone exposed and completely skinned, nearly all the muscle gone with it, and surprisingly, the shin and partial foot of his left leg just a foot or two from his right. More blood pooled around his leg.

"oh," the pain very quickly began to set in again, this time all around bis body, or at least the small bits that remains. "right." he thought slowly before the pain erupted fully, a pain he thought unimaginable settling all over. Then the memories came back, how he was fighting on a battlefield just outside of the city, assaulting the city per his companies orders. how the defenders had layed a mine field. how he was the unlucky one to find out.

Before Jason even knew he was scream at the top of his lungs, a yell so loud it drowned out the rest of the world. his wails attracting a field medic in a vain attempt to get help. The look in the medics eyes as he eyed Jason, the terror and abstract horror that flashed as he saw the mangled and still alive remains of the solider before him. The medic called into his radio, something Jason would never know, something he'd eventually with the medic hadnt done.

but what say did he have? he was just a head and mangled torso at this point. Jason eventually passed out from the pain, screaming, and blood loss, hoping to every god and goddess that his misery would end, and that he wouldnt wakeup. Fate was a cruel reality though, as eventually, eventually he awoke.

-

Darkness. nothing but the numbing and deafening darkness. With Jasons last memories it seemed like his prayers were answered, and that he had been sent to some kind of purgatory. He preferred the purgatory to the pain he had suffered in life.

however, after an amount of time, an amount Jason would never know, something changed. he could hear. Hear the foot steps of people walking by quickly. Hear doors opening and closing in the distance. He could Hear people talking near by, but couldnt make out a word. Suddenly, he could see too, see the world that awaited him. Had he been sent to a heaven of one of the gods he had prayed to?

as he absorbed the room, something was weird, he could see everything. in fort of, behind, to his left and right even, all at the same time. He never turned his head, he just saw the direction. Jason, after a large conscious effort, focused on the people talking, seeing as they were only a couple feet away, and where in lab coats. he hoped they were doctors.

Jason tried talking, saying something to get the attention of the doctors, and it worked! But Jason didnt move his mouth, or even speak in his voice, it was slow, deep, and artificial, like a robot was piecing the letters together instead of saying the word. "Hello. Doctors. I'm. Awake." It may not have been his voice, but it certainly caught their attention.

all at once the three men in lab coats looked in his direction, pausing the conversation they were having entirely, seeming as if they had seen a ghost. "Doctors." Jason said again in the off putting voice, concern growing more evident in his mind as they just looked at him. What was wrong? Whats going on? He thought to himself.

The doctor closest to Jason spoke up first, he had black medium length hair, kept in shape by some sort of hair gel, and a light skin tone. "one-dash-one, youre awake. How do you feel?" Whos 'one-dash-one?' Jason thought, whats going on? "We didnt think you would wake up." The Doctor continued. Jason put off the one-dash-one question for the moment to ask a more prominent question. "Whats. Going. On." The same Robotic voice spoke in the place of his own.

"Straight to the point i see, I like it." the Doctor turned away from Jason and dismissed his two colleagues before returning his attention to Jason. "Well, one-dash-one, you were dying. plain and simple. so we had to act fast in order to save your life." The doctor said with an odd smile. "Your body was too far gone to be salvaged, but your brain and torso? thats easy. Relatively speaking." He continued. "So we stuck you in a life capsule. Entombed, actually." the doctor looked around for a mirror, before finding one on a near by desk.

Entombed in a life capsule? is that why he feels nothing? feels like nothing? And why was the doctor referring to him as one-dash-one? his name is Jason, Jason moorre! By the time Jason was pulled out of his thoughts the doctor was holding a mirror and a picture of a bloody and stitched torso, neck, and head up to Jason. "This is basically all thats left of you," The doctor wiggled the picture of the limbless person. "And this is what your stuck in." This time the doctor moved the mirror to grab his attention. Indeed, he was in a dark grey, metallic, pill shaped capsule with several wires leading to and from, likely to cameras, speakers, and microphones. The words CCMC 1-1 where nearly written and inscribed on the upper right portion of the capsule in a bright white color.

The doctor lowered the mirror and picture before tossing them back onto the near by desk. "youre probably still processing this, so ill make it brief." the doctor said again, with that odd smile. "we saved your life, per your PMC contract, we being cyro-corp." That made sense. "And because we saved your life, youre now our property." That did not make sense. "No. I'm. Not." Jason was quick to reply. The doctors smile grew into something more creepy and sadistic.

"Yes you are. it was written in your contract one-dash-one." Stop calling me that, my names Jason! "I'm. Jason." He tried to say it with any firmness, but his voice replacement seemed to lack the ability to annunciate any form of emotion. "This is my favorite part." the doctor muttered to himself. "one-dash-one, is your new name, and youve already been sold, to the PMC that blew you up in the first place."

'What? No, you cant do this!' Jason scream in his head. "Youll be shipping out tomorrow morning now that we know you can wake up." the doctor informed Jason. "Oh! i almost forgot, in order to preserve you, well need to disconnect you." the doctor said, quickly walking behind the capsule. "Have fun in dream land soldier, chances are youll have nothing but time on your hands while youre alone in the void."

"No. No. N-" and just like that, Jason was alone again, completely cut from the outside world, unable to hear, feel, smell, touch, or even see. one-dash-one was alone for a long time.

One-Dash-One was only ever returned to kill, clad in a large robot suit while he world was filled with lies. he was trapped in a virtual world that he couldnt distinguish from reality, killing horrors that he never knew where people fighting for the side he used to be fighting. Slaughtering his friends out of pure terror or returning to the void for not banishing the monstrosities in his vision.

After a couple years, Jason couldnt remember his name, only one-dash-one, and after ten, he couldnt even remember he had a human body. After a hundred he couldnt even remember if he was alive or in hell.

But in the end did it really matter? These two were one in the same now.

-i have an obsession with combat mechs, send help-
like 1600 words or something idk, p good for a one shot tho