Happy Pills - The Story of Kevin Free

Control

  The re-education room looked exactly as Kevin remembered it. A room with white walls and blinding white lights, with a metal chair bolted to the floor in the center, and a screen at the far side. There were other things in the room, but they were hidden in boxes that were the exact same white as the walls, floor, and ceiling. In combination with the bright light bearing down from directly above, it made them almost invisible.
  Kevin knew what was in the boxes, too. Absolutely anything that he didn't see being carried in would come from the boxes.
  The stitches in his face still ache as he slowly sat down in the metal chair, and the guard fastens the restraints to his wrists. He doesn't fight. He wants it this time. Wants to forget his recent failure, and the consequences of it. He finds an odd comfort in the coldness of the metal, as if it could suck all the heat out of his body, and leave him as a dead husk.
  Kevin wasn't sure when the thought of something killing him had become a comforting one. Probably somewhere around the same time that the feeling of blood on his skin had also become a comfort rather than a dread.
  Blood was always the same, no matter who it was from or why it was shed, and that gave Kevin great comfort. Knowing that no matter what was done to him, he would always bleed. People would always bleed.
  Death was similar. The thought that no matter what happened, he was human, and therefore could still die. Blood and death were two things that could not be taken away from him. There was no possible way. No matter what, his story, and the story of everyone in the universe, would eventually end in death. In the peace of the endless void. It was comforting knowing that someday, somehow, this would end.
  He couldn't even remember how long it had been since Strexcorp had taken his city, but he felt it didn't matter. All that mattered was...
  Was...
  ...what mattered anymore, really? As he felt the metal device force his eyes open again, as his brain was flooded with drugs and Strexcorp propaganda, that was his first thought. Does any of it really matter?
  Kevin could hear a voice hissing in his ear.
  Desert Bluffs is gone, and you belong to Strexcorp now.
  Desert Bluffs... his home, His town. That still mattered. He pulled against the restraints. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten that he was still wearing the shock collar, and he cried out in pain as it fired off.
  It doesn't matter. None of it matters. You belong to Strexcorp now, and you can be happy in the light of The Smiling God.
  Happy. That sounded nice. That sounded so very nice. Maybe none of it mattered. Maybe everything would be okay, if he just let it. If he just...
  Give up control.
  ...if he just gave up control. Strexcorp would take care of him, wouldn't they? The Smiling God would take care of him. Everything would be just fine, if only he could give in and obey.
  Let go. Let Strexcorp take control for you. Let us take care of you.
  Being taken care of sounded good. He was still in so much pain, and now his eyes were burning and his head was fuzzy. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything was strange and uncomfortable and sore and he wanted it to stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.
  "Make it stop... please make it stop..."
  It can stop, Kevin. All you have to do is behave. Be good for us. Do as you're told and be happy.
  He groaned quietly. Everything was beginning to blur, and his eyes began to water. Giving in was beginning to sound... good. Helpful. Strexcorp and The Smiling God would take care of him and everything could be okay.
  Everything could be okay.
  Everything.
  Could be.
  Okay.
  "But what about Desert Bluffs?"
  Desert Bluffs is gone, Kevin. You have to let go. This is your life now.
  "Not just gone... taken... it was taken from me..." The shock collar went off again, and another cry of pain escaped him. "No... no, it hurts!"
  The hurt can stop, Kevin. We can make it stop. All you have to do is relax and give in. You'll be safe with us, and so will the people of your town. You can still be a Voice. Our voice. Don't you want that? Don't you want to be productive and happy?
  A Voice... yes, that was right. He was a Voice. But he was not the voice of these people. Still, his people were here... didn't that matter? Wasn't that important? He still had people to speak for, even if he no longer had a town, and that had to count for something... right?
  Right?
  Slowly, things stopped making sense. But maybe that was okay. Maybe Strexcorp could take care of him. Maybe The Smiling God was good, and could make him happy again.
  He felt as though his mind was sinking into a fog. Everything was cold, and confusing, and slightly damp. His thoughts moved at a speed that was too slow to do anything, yet too fast to grasp, like a fish in a river with a hidden current. As his mind stopped struggling, so did his body, and the shocks stopped, and the pain began to fade.
  Was this a sign? Had the whispering voice been telling the truth when they'd said that the pain would stop if only he behaved? Could things be better?
  Of course, Kevin had no idea that the whispering voice was simply the voice of the same doctor that had sewn shut his third eye and slit open his cheeks. This was all part of the plan, of course.   The loyalty of The Voice was essential to quell that last few rebelling voices of Desert Bluffs.
  And it seemed that this plan would succeed. The Voice was beginning to break down.