UPRISE

038

Edison sits in a room. Opposite him is a man in a dark blue button-up and matching pants. He smells like cigars and musk. He is clean-shaven, with a jawline to rival Edison's. Unlike the blonde boy, his dark brown hair is straight and coiffed perfectly.

"You should know that we will have you killed if you say anything to anyone," the man says, leaning down on the metal table that separates the pair.

Edison sits up straighter. He hates the part of himself that is still trying to impress the man in front of him. He thinks of Noah, practically iced to the ground. He wonders if they will dig up the bodies underneath the layer of snow, or if they will wait until the snow melts. After all, when they scooped up Edison, they left all of the Golds and the Primary Crew on the ground. Even though Noah was still breathing.

Edison doesn't move. He wonders if the man expects him to leap across the table and attack him, but Edison doesn't dare even let the man know he breathes. There isn't a gun pressed up against his chest, and that is what terrifies him.

The man continues. "If anyone asks, you'll know what all the survivors will. After a few of the tents were damaged, there was a snowstorm that prevented the TMLT operators from delivering more adequate housing alternatives. Unfortunately, there was a simultaneous malfunction in forty bracelets, resulting in the inability to tap food. In the consequent riot, twenty people died."

Edison knows enough about research from his time at Oxford to know that there will still be people going to jail for this. Low-level lab assistants, those who are not truly responsible, but have the appearance of culpability.

"The guns were all perfectly legal. You are the only one left who knows the origins of the narcotics. You will never mention their presence."

That seems like the least of their worries, in Edison's opinion.

"We've set you up with a therapist to debrief the scenario we ran. That way, there will be no need to tell anyone else about this."

Edison begins to study the walls, rather than the man. Besides him, the room smells like lemongrass. Edison is surprised that all the hairs in his nose didn't freeze off. It has been a week, but he doubts that he will ever feel warm again.

"I don't need your therapist," Edison says.

The man shrugs. "You'll visit her anyway."

When the man stands up, he uses the table as leverage. Edison notices a gold ring wrapped around the man's finger.

Edison stands as well. He looks the man in the eye, analyzing it. Even though he is clever, it still confuses him. "Why go through all this trouble?"

The man smiles. His thumb twists the gold band around his finger. "If you could have fun, at any expense, wouldn't you?"

The End

~~~

Thank you all for joining me on this journey! I've been debating posting some bonus content for it, like elaborations on themes, information on the alternate ending, and other such items. So, if you have any questions (besides how dare I), then I'll answer them. I've really enjoyed this story, and it has been nice to get back to my roots of murder. 

On a related note, I have a new story called Degrade. I promise it doesn't end the way this one does (even though I haven't planned out the ending yet). If you haven't already applied, please go ahead! I am going to need several more applicants to get started!