Achieving Serenity

The Dusky Lot

Saving yourself

In a highly technologically advanced, anarchist civilization lived an old man named Larry and his grandson, Jack, in a small brick home atop the mountain village. Larry kept several weapons in the house, but one day a group of men rampaged through the house like the SWAT team and kidnapped his grandson, leaving the old man in a stagnate shock.

He recognized them right away as the devious group who called themselves The Dusky Lot and immediately surrendered before even attempting to fire upon them. Even when they departed in their jet-like vehicles, shooting at them seemed to be pointless. They weren't human, but instead were humans controlling avatar-like robots. The humans behind the scenes were in another area but were experiencing every sensory detail as if they themselves were present at the scene.

The Dusky Lot headquarters were settled in manor atop an even higher mountain, and it was apparent to the entire village that they were seeking domination. They acted as the New World police, surveying the lands and stopping violence and any revolutionary protests. They were notorious for their murderous invasions, stopping at nothing to take dominance over any land. There were hundreds of them, maybe even thousands. Could there be millions?

Their base was protected with heat-seeking Gatling guns that would disintegrate anything with a barrage of steel knife-sized bullets, essentially acting as a steel laser. The town had meetings about retaliation, but they didn't know whether or not they were outnumbered, and it was obvious they lacked the courage. The townspeople weren't as brave as them, so their ultimate decision was to be on mindful guard, and stock up on heavily on weaponry.

Larry set up a cyber notice of his grandson's kidnapping and an invitation for the entire town to meet up at a secure location using their own avatars. He didn't care what it took now; he was going to do anything in his power to save his grandson. Only 82 years young, an aching back and an old chest wound were not going to prevail in Larry's path.

He stepped into his own avatar machine and flew his Iron Man-like vehicle to the meeting location. He was distraught to see only the avatar of one of his good friends present. Over 300 hundred people acknowledged his SOS, and only one showed up.

"Larry, they don't believe you. They think you're lying about Jack," the man said as Larry walked over to him.

"Are you kidding me?" Larry belted out. "My grandson is with The Dusky Lot! He's gone! I saw them take him."

"I believe you, Larry! Trust me; I do. They think you're just hiding him to spark a revolution. Everybody is talking about how this is probably like your chest wound story, which I do believe! But I guess the rest of the townspeople don't."

"This is ridiculous," Larry shouted, opening his buttoned shirt to display his graphically vulgar scar on the left side of his chest. "I've been telling the same story since I was twelve when it happened. I don't know why I didn't die!

All I know is I was camping in the woods, I stepped out to pee when a bearded man in his twenties carrying a large, black rifle emerged behind a tree. He was probably about ten feet away from me. Before I even knew what happened, I heard the loud bangs as he began open firing at me. Two bullets struck my heart, but they only penetrated my skin and the wound healed itself. It sounded like a real rifle but it didn't even hurt! He ran away and I never saw him again. That's all I know! Please tell me, Gilbert- what on Earth do I possibly have to gain from lying about this?"

"Listen, Larry. I've seen scars like that before. Where I'm from, there are many men who have scars just like them. I didn't want to tell you, but the scars eventually open back up again. They always end up breaking open, leading the person to die a painful, gruesome death. I've tried explaining this to people, but they don't believe me either. They think we've lost it."