As promised, here are the other two short stories that I wrote in lieu of NaNoWriMo back in 2023.
This time, we’ve got a dramatic sci-fi story, and a somewhat sillier contemporary fiction story.
Be thankful of the order I’ve put these two stories in for this week’s article…
Science Fiction
~~A scientist tells you they can give you any superpower you could want…~~
Something New
It still didn’t feel real to Effis, but with each step closer he took to Doctor Sicar’s research laboratory, he could taste the change his life was about to undergo.
A week ago, when he’d first seen that poster in the packing plant’s employee lounge, it had felt too good to be true. Sure, technology had come a long way in the past century, to the point where if you showed someone from 2136 modern-day appliances, they’d probably have a heart attack. Body-mods, cybernetic enhancements, and virtual universe tech were the hottest things on the market, so the ‘impossible’ was seeming less so with each day.
Even so, when he saw that advertisement…
Want to change something about yourself?
Want to be the best ‘you’ you can be?
Want to become someone new?
If you answered ‘yes’ to any of those questions, then you are wanted down at Doctor Sicar’s! Ready for something new? Then please, make your way to our nearest location to you, and become something new!
Effis hadn’t put any stock in the advertisement at first glance, but then the testimonials had started trickling in on the Ventranet. People claiming that Doctor Sicar had given them new hair, an extra five inches in height, a deeper voice. Simple things that any mod-shop could do. But then people started claiming that they had received…powers. Legitimate superpowers, like flight, or shooting bolts of electricity.
It had been so dumb to see those claims in text form…but it was impossible to ignore once the vids started pouring in. At that point, it was clear as day. Or, well, it was still dismissed by many as cheap tricks made easy due to advancements in digital VFX, but Effis had been convinced by that point. It was too much effort for some marketing stunt. A few of the testimonials had even come from friends…or as close to friends as Effis believed he had.
It was hard making friends when he knew he’d forget them each year.
Effis was one of the one-in-thirty-million kids born with Temporal Regression, an exceptionally rare side-effect born from women who took too many alchemical enhancements during pregnancy (usually in an attempt to birth the perfect child). Those unlucky enough to be afflicted with Temporal Regression faced extremely difficult lives, and it wasn’t uncommon for the affected to simply plug themselves into a virtual universe at eighteen-years-old (the legal age of VU consent) and live their lives out in a digital space of their creation.
Temporal Regression’s singular symptom was all it needed to royally screw up a person’s life. Every three-hundred-and-sixty-five days on the dot, the victim’s memories would all become completely wiped, save for any deeply ingrained motor functions (like knowing how to breathe, eat, walk, etc.). It was like going to sleep and waking up a blank slate, with only the vaguest idea in your head that something was off. Something was wrong.
Effis’ older sister had been devastated when she realized her younger brother was a victim of Temporal Regression…but Effis’ mother couldn’t have cared less. In fact, she was more annoyed than anything, and dumped Effis into his older sister’s care so she could go back to trying to have another perfect child. Effis, Temporal Regression notwithstanding, had no memories of her other than what his sister had told him.
Phina (such was his older sister’s name) had been the one to raise him, then, and also the one to help get him back on his feet after his yearly reset. But she was the only one by his side. Friends came and went, until Effis eventually got sick of spending so much energy making new ones only to lose them. Likewise, he eventually gave up on school, as his Temporal Regression point was, infuriatingly, in the middle of the school year.
The worst thing was watching the light in Phina’s eyes slowly drain each time he reset, for even his dear older sister’s love was not infinite. His condition was taxing on her, he knew that, especially as she was trying to devote more time to her own love life and building a family. Phina’s girlfriend never liked Effis, and as Phina’s feelings grew for her beloved, so too did her feelings for her brother shrink.
Effis, who had picked the only option left for him and joined the manual labor sector, came home one evening to find a note from Phina on the kitchen table, and a strongbox of enough money to cover rent on their apartment for about a year. He didn’t even need to read the note to know what it said. Phina had abandoned him, unable to stomach dragging her younger brother back from the void after each reset.
He couldn’t even blame her.
The only reason he hadn’t opted to plug himself into a virtual universe for the rest of his life was because the virtual universe terrified him. Effis hated the idea of being trapped, being unable to ever escape. The VUs were designed to be dreamlike heavens specifically catered to the host…but they were still inescapable by design, save from an outside force shutting it down.
Effis just couldn’t mentally reconcile with the idea of being locked away for eternity in that sort of prison of the mind.
And so, he kept on going, miserably shuffling from one day to the next, and eventually finding himself employed at the packing plant, spending eight hours a day stuffing supplies and tech into boxes, and pushing those boxes onto a conveyor. It was mind-numbing, but in an ironic way, that sort of dulled the pain.
But now even that was being taken from him, by the continual advent of the Server Program.
Started only a year ago (god, only that little time ago?), the Server Program was an initiative to slowly but steadily replace the world’s workforce with, essentially, robots.
Humanity had, miraculously, avoided dipping their greedy fingers into the veritable gold mine that was robotics, thanks to a few brave individuals introducing governmental oversight bills that required decades of study and tests before any robot could be released as a public product. The fear of unintentional sentience and robotic uprising was simply to high a risk to run, and those decades of tests had dissuaded many from ever trying.
But it hadn’t stopped the SPG (Server Program Group), and now, after thirty-seven years of testing, their Servers were being built and installed all across the globe, to massive success and praise. Servers were being put in as transportation workers, janitors, construction workers, culinary staff, and, of course, menial grunt labor such as moving boxes at a packing plant.
Effis had watched as one after another was installed at the plant where he worked, wondering just what the fuss was all about. They were…well, creepy felt like too light a word. They had these blank, emotionless faces, and their jerky movements were hard to watch. They could only maneuver on pre-established tracks in the ground too. The eyes, unblinking and unpainted as they were, felt like they stared right into your soul.
They got the job done, though, which Effis supposed was all that mattered to the bigwigs spending the money in the first place. Servers were tireless, unceasing. They were powered by some sort of proprietary tech that the SPG had yet to disclose, but it definitely wasn’t solar or batteries. The things could run without ever stopping, completing tasks that took several human workers a few days only a single day by a single Server unit.
Effis had watched his fellow packing plant grunt employees be laid off, one after the other, and replaced with Servers. Very unceremoniously too. The other employees would just express discontent with their jobs and then quit via Ventranet message, presumably. Effis didn’t have friends, but just being alongside other living, breathing human beings provided more comfort on the packing line than machines.
Effis supposed he wasn’t too different from his co-workers who had quit, but unlike them, Effis knew his life was only just beginning. After visiting Doctor Sicar and getting the change to himself that he’d always dreamed of, Effis was more than prepared to spend his life in the packing plant, shuffling around with boxes. He could already taste the exuberance and lust for life that would soon fill him once his Temporal Regression was cured once and for all.
Stepping off the hovertram in front of Doctor Sicar’s research laboratory, Effis smiled for the first time in what felt like years.
*****
The (thankfully) human receptionist at the front desk of the laboratory greeted him with a hearty smile.
“Good morning.” The distractingly handsome receptionist said. “What brings you in today, sir?”
Effis had never been called ‘sir’ in his life and had to mentally remind himself that the receptionist wasn’t flirting with him and was just being polite. That smile was beautiful, though.
“Uh…here for Doctor Sicar’s services? From the ads?” Effis explained, suddenly self-conscious.
The receptionist’s warm smile put him instantly at ease. “Ah, of course! Well, let me be the first to congratulate you for taking us up on our offer. I might just be a lowly desk clerk here, but the work we’re doing with Doctor Sicar is revolutionizing our society, and all for the better.” The man’s smile grew playful. “At least, that’s what I choose to believe.”
Effis smiled back. “If what’s being promised is given to me, I’ll go to my grave singing the praises of Doctor Sicar.”
The receptionist laughed, deep and rich, and Effis had to duck his head to hide his blush.
The man behind the counter then handed him a stack of paper forms to fill out, which was moderately surprising. Almost everything was digital these days, not least of which because digitized information was so much easier to categorize, inventory, and reference through other government or police agencies. Not that Effis cared much about all that, and there was something soothing about the tactile feel of writing with real ink and paper.
Effis filled out the forms, which were mostly rote questions about his medical history (‘annual allergies’, he wrote, just to be wry), and any other outstanding conditions. A few questions were a bit odd, asking about his familial relations and what not, but Effis was able to skip most of them by just detailing how he lived alone and had no other family members. The final space asked what he wanted from Doctor Sicar, and Effis just wrote a short summary and hoped it would suffice.
He then handed the papers back to the receptionist, who gave him another distractingly winning smile, before the man turned his eyes on the paper. Effis watched him nervously, and frowned a bit as the man’s expression darkened for about half a second as he reached the bottom of the page. But then Effis blinked, and the smile was back in place on the man’s face, like it had never left.
The receptionist beamed at him. “You’re in luck, sir! Every ten patients who come through that door get a meeting specifically with Doctor Sicar himself! Usually, Sicar’s assistants can handle most things, so usually people don’t get to meet the doctor directly. But you’re in luck! How amazing is that?”
“V-Very!” Effis agreed, a bit floored by the revelation that he had, for once in his cursed life, actually been ‘lucky’ in some capacity.
The receptionist pressed a button on their desk, and a side door in the waiting room slid open, beckoning to Effis. “Just walk right in, and Doctor Sicar will greet you! I hope you become something new and something wonderful!”
“I…hope so too.” Effis added, before turning away from the painfully attractive man with great difficulty (and silently cursing himself for not offering his number). Slowly walking away, Effis moved through the door, jumping a bit as it slid closed right behind him.
It was approximately fifteen-degrees colder inside this new room than the waiting room, and Effis had to fight to repress the urge to shiver as he glanced around the sparse, sterile room. Without much to look at, Effis simply claimed one of the two chairs in the center of the room, and nervously held his hands in his lap.
The future he’d always dreamed of was near…and it was getting difficult to not shake with excitement. Or just shake from the cold, really.
After a minute, a paneled opening Effis hadn’t even noticed retracted into the floor, and a bespectacled man in his mid-sixties walked through, with the assistance of a cane. Behind him, a petite blonde woman rolled a cart, on which was attached some kind of anesthesia machine. Effis had seen them before on Ventranet vids, and knew they were still utilized before major surgeries.
Doctor Sicar’s methods may have been a mystery, but it didn’t surprise Effis to learn that surgery was involved in some way.
“What a special day, eh?” Doctor Sicar chuckled lightly, his voice raspy and yet soothing, just the right soft-spoken pitch to lull someone to sleep. Sicar plopped into the chair in front of Effis and gave him a toothy grin. “You’ve been having quite a bit of trouble with Temporal Regression, eh? Well, consider this the day of your rebirth, Effis Landau.”
“Th-Thank you, doctor.” Effis replied. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. A new body, one free of Temporal Regression. I read that there’s no other cure for it.”
“Indeed, there isn’t.” Sicar nodded sagely. “Terrible disease, truly. But, lad, you were right to come here. Most youngsters enter my door seeking some trivial matter, or some ‘superpower’. Well, you, lad, have gotten right to the heart of the matter. The greatest superpower of all. The ability to become…something new!”
Sicar buzzed with excitement, and his anticipation was equally as infectious for Effis. Effis didn’t even flinch as the blonde woman strapped his hands and legs to the chair and jabbed the anesthesia needle into his arm. Effis even smiled at her, though she pointedly avoided his gaze, looking almost…shameful. Which was strange, but Effis didn’t pay her anymore mind, especially after she flicked the switch to start pumping the anesthesia into his veins.
Sicar grinned at him. “Sleep well, lad. When you wake up, you’ll be in a new body, one cured of Temporal Regression. One free to experience the rest of its life…unchained by your current restrictions. A higher plane of existence, even.” Sicar laughed. “Apologies, I’ve gotten a bit carried away, eh? I love my work, what can I say, lad?”
Effis felt his head getting lighter. “D-Doctor…thank you…” He whispered dreamily, his eyes rolling back into his head.
His head suddenly heavier than it had ever been before, Effis let it flop back onto the chair, and his vision glazed over into a blur as the anesthesia took hold. Through a hazy fog, he watched as the blonde woman handed a stack of papers to Doctor Sicar, and then spare an almost guilty frown towards Effis himself. Sicar, meanwhile, looked pleased with himself, spinning a pen in one hand as he scanned the documents.
Effis could just barely make out the doctor’s words.
“Good…good…all signed properly, and no family. Which is fantastic, because we don’t need a repeat of last month’s debacle.” The doctor sighed happily and handed the forms to the woman. “Give SPG a call. Tell them we’ve got one more for them today.”
The woman nodded and scurried off, her fast departure creating a blur in Effis’ focus that finally triggered a migraine powerful enough to push him to fully succumb to the anesthesia and fall asleep.
Not that he’d really been ‘awake’ for the past minute, nor did he retain anything he’d just heard. All of his sleepy, dreamy thoughts were on the wonderful life he was about to have upon waking up. The fullness and completeness of being in a body cured of Temporal Regression.
The joy of being something new.
*****
“Right…I think I booted it up properly? These things don’t exactly have power buttons…”
“The red light on the forehead, Vick.”
“Huh? Oh, duh! Yep, it’s all good to go!”
Effis groaned, the inky blackness surrounding him giving way to the light of the waking world. He felt incomprehensibly tired, and momentarily forgot where he was and what he was doing, before the pieces clicked in his head. Doctor Sicar. The anesthesia and the surgery to transplant his mind into a new body. Or, that was presumably how it was done. Effis was eager to see the results regardless.
It dawned on him that he hadn’t specified exactly what he wanted his new body to be, and Effis realized with delight that he honestly didn’t care. Height, weight, gender…it was all irrelevant to him. Perhaps it was even preferential to have a body as different from his old self as possible! A new version of himself to welcome in the new version of his life!
Effis blinked a few times to clear the murkiness from his eyes…and then nearly screamed at seeing his entire vision filled by the gigantic face of a freckled redhead woman peering at him. Who was she? Why was she so close to him? And why did his blinks…not feel like blinks?
Why did his entire body feel so…weird?
The redhead’s smile brightened. “Ah, good morning, little guy!” She said cheerfully. “Welcome to the first day of…well…I guess ever?” She backed up a few feet, and Effis could see that she was leaning over to look him in the eyes.
How short had they made his new body?
“Why do you do that?” A sterner voice sighed from outside Effis’ peripheral vision. He tried to turn to look at this new person but found his neck too stiff to pivot.
Perhaps his body was so sore from the surgery, or maybe just from atrophy? Was a period of physical therapy in his future, to work out the kinks of his new form?
Thankfully, the mystery woman stepped into view herself as the redhead backed up another foot, though Effis could still only see her from the knees to her chest. All he could tell was that she was dressed like some sort of manager, while the redhead looked like a desk clerk.
Why was he so short? What life was he supposed to live at, what he had to assume was, three feet tall?
The older woman crossed her arms. “They can’t hear you, Vick. They can’t speak even if they could hear you. It’s not in their programming.”
The redhead, Vick, pouted. “It’s the principle, Triss. It makes it less creepy to think of them like normal people. Just, ya know, short, emotionless, and made of metal, people!”
Triss, the older woman, scoffed. “Sure, whatever you say, Vick. Anyway, I laid the tracks and installed the pathfinding. It should be good to go once you hit the red button.”
“Gotcha!” Vick grinned, then leaned back towards Effis’ face again.
Not for the first time, Effis tried to respond to these two towering women, but found himself unable to speak. Not only could he not move his head, but he couldn’t open his mouth either! His face was so numb that it almost felt as if he had no mouth at all, though Effis logically realized that was impossible right before he started having a panic attack. He was just tired from the surgery, and maybe in shock.
Doctor Sicar would show up at any moment, and things would get back on track!
But as Vick stuck out her finger and pressed onto Effis’ forehead, his situation went from confusing to…horrifying.
A lightly-toned jingle sounded in Effis’ head upon Vick touching his forehead, and then his entire body violently jerked backwards so erratically Effis felt as if his body might tear apart. He pivoted to face in the opposite direction, and then began walking off towards a tall stack of boxes against the wall. Or…walking wasn’t quite right. It was almost more like…gliding. And worst of all, Effis couldn’t get himself to stop! His body was moving on its own!
Effis reached the boxes and then extended his arms to pick one up…and Effis screamed in shock at the emaciated metal prongs that entered his vision right where his hands were supposed to be. Rather, they were his hands. Instead of human hands of flesh and blood, his new body had mechanical appendages!
Effis began raging against his disobedient body, willingly himself to stop picking up the box, but his traitorous arms seized the package, and his unruly legs propelled him right back towards Vick and Triss, the two tall women staring at him in anticipation. Indignantly, Effis switched to screaming, and yet no matter how hard he strained his lungs and pushed his body to produce sound, no noise came out.
He just kept walking and kept carrying that box.
And then, upon reaching Vick, he turned and dropped the box onto an awaiting conveyor belt, the package tumbling away deeper into what quickly became apparent was a packing plant.
Effis’ packing plant. The one he’d been working at just yesterday!
The box dropped off, Effis’ head jerked back towards the two women, even as Effis himself cried out in futile resistance.
His own agony was sharply contrasted by the redhead’s enthusiasm.
“Sweet!” Vick snapped her fingers. “Route successful. Great job little guy!” She leaned forward again and pressed Effis’ forehead again, and another jingling tone sounded throughout Effis’ entire being. Though similarly jaunty in pitch to the first tone, the echoing reverberation of this particular one inside of Effis’ own skull felt crushingly foreboding.
Like clockwork, Effis spun back around and glided back towards the stack of crates near the wall.
Behind him, he could hear the two women continue to converse.
“That’s that, then.” Triss sighed. “This entire wing of the packing plant is now one-hundred-percent staffed by Servers.”
“Our production should jump through the roof now!” Vick cheered.
Effis couldn’t even begin to process what he’d just heard…but he also wasn’t stupid. Despite the enormous world-shattering impossibility of what was playing out before him, Effis couldn’t just play dumb in the face of the evidence. His robotic movements, his inability to stop following the orders of Vick, his lack of control over his own body, his mechanical arms…there was simply no other possibility.
The new body Doctor Sicar had prepared for him…was a Server!
As Effis’ body picked up another package and shuffled back to the conveyor belt, Effis’ consciousness yelled in panic, crying out into a silent, uncaring void. Unable to move his own head to look at the two women, the only two people capable of doing something to spare him from this madness, Effis instead had to simply pray that they would bring their attention back to him of their own volition.
Surely, they could tell he was a human, couldn’t they? He wasn’t some soulless machine like those other Servers! He was a real human being, trapped against his will, locked into some fate he’d never asked for, never desired! He wasn’t supposed to be a slave. Doctor Sicar was supposed to have set him free! Made him something new, not something lesser!
Triss lazily pulled out her holophone. “You’re only happy now, Vick. When those Servers replace us desk clerks, then you’ll be whining about ‘unfair treatment’.
Vick stuck out her tongue. “You really think a Server can replace someone with my incredible talent? Pssh! Besides, Servers are too thoughtless to do those sorts of jobs, you said so yourself. Nothing in their heads except the orders they’ve been programmed with.”
Triss laughed. “God, could you imagine? Servers with the ability to think? They’d go insane! Or just, you know, kill us all in retaliation.”
“Geez, Triss, stop it! One, that’s creepy. Two, these little guys wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Vick shuddered, then knelt down in front of Effis. Effis’ body, sensing an obstacle, stopped moving, and Effis found himself staring straight into the eyes of the only woman who could save him now. His fiery-haired guardian angel.
He’d never been much for church, but he began shouting silent prayers and begging cries.
For a blissful moment, Effis believed his spiritual efforts had paid off, as Vick’s giddy expression hardened, and she peered deeply into his eyes. Within his metallic prison, Effis cried out for glee, already dreaming up a way of getting revenge on Doctor Sicar for this horrible prank.
And then Vick spoke. “I’d really love to know what makes these guys tick. Studies say they can run without a break for centuries. It’s gotta be a powerful energy source, right? But what on this earth is so infinitely sustaining?”
Triss yawned. “I’m in this job for the money, Vick. Not the science. Anyway, aren’t you terrified of Servers emotionless faces? You always joke about their eyes stealing your souls or something.”
Vick clicked her tongue. “Lame. But, whatever, you’re right. Those eyes are freaky.” Vick chuckled and broke eye contact with Effis, standing back up. “And yeah, these little dudes might be able to go on forever, but this chick sure can’t!” Vick pointed to herself and struck a pose. “Bar hop tonight, Triss?”
Triss turned on her heel and strolled off. “You dork…sure. As long as you’ve got first round at each.”
“First round? But Triss, that’s a lot of money! Hey, can’t you—”
The rest of the conversation was lost to Effis, as the younger girl chased after her friend, and the two women disappeared from view as Effis’ arms dropped off the package, and his body turned to go retrieve another one. The two women hadn’t had a care in the world and had been wholly oblivious to the unspeakably cruel fate that had befallen him.
In leaving, that had not just physically departed the scene, but also figuratively severed the last strand of hope within Effis.
And, Effis realized with a crushing amount of existential terror, the hope of every Server ever made. Vick might not have cracked the code of what made Servers tick, but being trapped inside one himself, Effis had.
The human soul. Servers were perpetually powered by the human soul itself. Innocent beings crammed inside of these metallic, faceless, silent metallic shells, forced to work for all eternity.
Tens of thousands of Servers were released into the world each day, with more and more on the way as the stock value of SPG rose. News outlets praised the advent of Servers, big corporations greedy for more cheap labor and increased profits shelled out for Servers at every opportunity, and there had even been musings of an official government proclamation dictating that certain businesses pivot entirely to Servers.
The human race was, slowly but surely, becoming enslaved, and it dawned on Effis that he was but the first of many, many, many more to come.
The realization pushed him over the proverbial edge, and he broke.
Effis began screaming.
He screamed all day. And all night. And for the next week. And the next month. And the next year. And for the rest of time.
But his new body’s expressionless mouth did not make a sound.
Outwardly, his Server body did its job just as well as all the other Servers. Acceptable. Unextraordinary. Replaceable.
Only the concave indentations of his eyes, if peered into closely enough, conveyed the unceasing eternal turmoil of his soul.
Contemporary Fiction
~~Your character is competing in a contest.~~
On The Run
Evie really, really, really wanted to scream.
Doing so would be a terrible idea, of course, given that she was currently on the run from the police, but that didn’t mean that she still didn’t really want to scream.
It was supposed to have been a simple job. A long-con, sure, but a simple job nonetheless.
Anais had worked at the bank for years, all for the purpose of gaining their trust and the keys to the doors, security systems, and vaults. Ember had gotten the getaway truck, and was the best driver Evie had ever seen in her life. And Delilah had been the distraction, doing one of her insipid street magic performances outside to both block easy access to the bank and create plausible chaos.
Evie’s job had been to act as the dumb muscle. 5’9”, 180 pounds, and a history of weightlifting, she’d been the only one in their group capable of easily ferrying the bags of money back and forth to the truck. And her stamina had carried her through it, not a single drop of sweat coalescing on her brow…until she’d gone back to the truck with the last bag and realized that her friends had left.
Worse than that, they’d betrayed her.
The getaway truck hadn’t just been gone. All the money was gone with it. The security alarms had also been blaring, clearly purposefully tripped by Anais. It hadn’t been some cruel cosmic accident (like they’d merely forgotten her). She’d been set up as the fall girl, and they’d booked it with the money.
What had really riled Evie up had been the chime of her phone the exact second after realizing her friends had left her, leading to Evie checking it and seeing a three-word text message from Anais.
“Good luck, loser!”
The text had made her blood boil, and it was only the distant sound of a police siren barely heard through the screaming security alarm that had compelled Evie to think rationally.
And so Evie found herself in her present situation. Framed for grand larceny by her ex-friends and in very real danger of spending years in prison because of it. It had always been a risk before, but Evie’d never once considered facing down that risk alone. She’d truly believed the other three girls to be her close friends, and she burned with fury at the realization that they were anything but.
As she stuffed the money from the last vault haul into her personal backpack, Evie imagined herself shoving her fist into Anais’ smug face. She imagined herself kicking Ember as she tightened up her boots, and throwing Delilah across the room as she tossed aside the rucksack she’d previously carried the money in.
Sliding out the bank’s back entrance, Evie ignored the almost paralyzing sensation of fear as she heard a police car rumble up to the front of the bank, followed quickly by two more. Instead, she tossed her facemask into a dumpster, dropped her gloves down a sewer grate, and dashed out into the street behind the bank, rounding the corner at top speed…
…and bumbling right into the packed crowd of runners participating in the 35th Annual Fun-and-Fitness 5K, a charity race that raised money for children’s extracurricular sports across the county.
Because of course that was also happening today! Evie wondered how it had slipped her mind, until the wail of yet another police car the block over reminded her that she was a bit mentally preoccupied and that that’s probably why she’d forgotten.
More than that, though, Evie realized that none of the other runners had seemed to notice her presence, as the crowd of participants was just too dense and focused. The starting line for the run had been about a kilometer back, and everyone’s legs hurt just enough to keep them from noticing a new challenger sliding into their ranks.
It helped that Evie blended in surprisingly well. Wearing a tee of her favorite local athlete (Sasha Vaughn, #18 on the university basketball team and basically a goddess) and compression shorts, Evie more-or-less looked like all the other runners in the 5K.
Evie moved to exit the mass of runners and keep heading away from the bank…only to pause.
Wasn’t this exactly the type of cover she’d been looking for? It wasn’t as if the bank cameras had caught her face, or like she’d left her prints on anything. There hadn’t been any witnesses either! By blending in with this crowd of runners, and then just dipping out once she’d crossed the finish line, she could totally avoid the cops and escape jail!
Yes, she was carrying $20,000 dollars in her backpack, but the odds of that giving her away seemed non-existent. It wasn’t as if she had any plans to just start flinging her backpack around at the other runners!
Almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation she’d found herself in, Evie tucked in her elbows and transitioned into a stamina-saving runner’s movement, readying herself for the next two-and-a-half miles. She’d never run a 5K before, but she’d always imagined her stamina and strength could lead her to seeing significant results. She supposed her inaugural bank-robbing day was as good a chance as any to find out!
It wasn’t long before Evie ended up in the upper echelons of the running group, entering a zen-like trance as she sank into a rhythm of running. The tranquility in her mind allowed her time to think about the events of the past hour, and any possible way she could get payback on her ex-friends.
It didn’t feel likely. No doubt they’d gone back to Ember’s house, where they would probably pack their bags full of important belongings and then book it out of the state. Out of the country, potentially. They’d kept their plans of betrayal a secret, so it’d take them a few hours maximum to get ready to run back at Ember’s house. That didn’t leave a lot of time for Evie to stage some sort of counterattack, especially given she was now sort of locked into this race, and Ember’s house was an hour away by car.
On top of that, Evie couldn’t think of a single way in which she could possibly tip off the police without giving herself away too. She’d been lucky to stumble into the marathon, and it truly did seem feasible that she could use it as a way to get away from this crime with a hefty payout too, but any effort at revenge seemed to be but a blissful dream in her mind. More likely than not, her ex-friends would get out of this ordeal scot-free.
Her anger rekindling, Evie began unconsciously running faster, pumping her arms and legs in sweltering synchronicity as she powered ahead of all but one other guy who was leading the charge. The marathon went on and on, but Evie’s stamina didn’t once falter, and she persisted through each turn down a new street, and each painful hill that had to be mounted and then descended.
Vaguely, she was aware of some cops still hanging around the fringes of the marathon course, no doubt patrolling for the suspect of the bank heist. Aside from her commendable performance in the race itself, Evie didn’t draw any suspicious gazes, no doubt because the audacity of robbing a bank and then joining a marathon 5K was simply too absurd to consider. Evie felt safe in her situation.
The route was a scenic one, leading out of the city and into the more hilly, beautiful suburbs beyond. Had she been in a better state of mind, Evie might’ve actually taken in the beauty of the nature that she was running past, or enjoyed the moderate temperature and cool breeze. She might have spared a smile towards her fellow runners, as there usually wasn’t much in life that energized her more than working out alongside other people.
But today wasn’t one of those days. Today, Evie was just losing herself to the beat of her feet hitting the pavement, daydreaming (even downright fantasizing) about Anais, Ember, and Delilah paying for attempting to screw her over. Succeeding, insomuch as Evie had only $20,000 to her name now and not a cool million, minimum.
However, as the run neared its end, and the blurry outline of the finish line came into focus, Evie wondered if she really was justified in complaining.
She just finished robbing a bank, and was now $20,000 richer (a relatively huge boost, and the most she’d ever had on-hand at a given time). Not only that, but she’d gotten away with it too, as there was no feasible way the cops could catch her now without any clear trace or evidence. Plus, she’d gotten a nice run in too! Really, what was there to be upset about? She’d even managed to cut ties with the other three girls who were honestly not the best influence on her life.
Her introspection finished, Evie found her heart felt significantly lighter and freer than it had before. Loosing an exuberant laugh, Evie pushed herself to the peak of her limit and surged ahead, catching up to and then joining alongside the fastest guy in the race. She gave him a wild smile which he somewhat uneasily returned, and she playfully bumped his elbow in a manner she hoped came across as teasing and not competitor sabotage.
And then she proceeded to accidentally hook her backpack on the man’s decorative ring, having drawn too close while jokingly bumping him.
With an awful, ear-splitting tearing sound, Evie and the man jerked back simultaneously, and Evie’s backpack ripped wide open…
…and $20,000 dollars worth of stolen money fluttered away into the wind.
Evie’s heart skipped a beat, and the man’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. He was so flabbergasted that he completely stopped running, especially as the wind picked up and the torrent of paper currency poured free behind Evie like a coattail of wealth. Behind her, Evie could hear the cries of shock and delight as the other runners near the front of the pack found themselves assaulted with gifts of free money, bills raining onto them.
Evie, meanwhile, only had a single thought inside of her head.
I’m. Screwed.
All at once, the surety of her escape from jail had been blown into pieces. The cops didn’t have her prints, face, or witnesses, but there was absolutely no way she could worm out of this one. The money could be so effortlessly tracked back to the bank, and plenty of runners had now seen her tearing through the course with the backpack leaking stolen money. No doubt she’d be in cuffs in mere minutes at this rate, especially as the police were in such close proximity to the race.
From far behind her, Evie heard a whistle blow, and the tinny tone resonated more like a death-knell in her head.
Numbly, Evie finished the last stretch of the course, stumbling across the finish line in first place by the sheer nature of everyone else having stopped in the wake of her backpack-leaking money-cape. In the distance, she could hear a siren and pounding footsteps. The police were closing in, and the glimmering hope of a future of freedom was fading fast.
In front of her, there was a surprising amount of news vans and reporters, though most were barricaded behind a rope fence. Some race organizers were standing by with medals to hand out and complimentary water bottles, although they all kept their distance and eyed Evie with suspicion. One reporter, though, had jumped the fence alongside their cameraman partner, and eagerly rushed towards Evie.
The excitable reporter practically shoved the microphone into Evie’s face. “Is there anything you’d like to say to the eager fans and would-be future runners at home? We’re live, right now!”
Evie’s eyes lit up upon hearing that. “Live? Like, live on a mainstream news channel?”
“Of course!” The reporter replied, somewhat smugly. “I beat all the other third-rate news stations to the best parking spot, so I’m here first! We’re currently state-wide. Country-wide, even!”
A little thought began worming its way into Evie’s mind, at first whispering and then yelling, in order to be heard over the clamoring of the approaching police.
It was a silly thought. A petty one. An ultimately meaningless one.
But an oh-so-satisfying one.
Evie smirked, cleared her throat, and leaned in towards the mic, while simultaneously locking eyes with the cameraman.
“Sup? My name is Evie Dubois, and today I won a marathon, made it on the news, and robbed a bank with my three ex-friends. Their names are Anais Gomez, Ember Garfield, and Delilah Copperton. They live on 3578 West Avery Street, and should be there right now.”
Evie winked knowingly into the camera.
“Good luck, losers!”
And there we have it! I hope you enjoyed!
(And aren’t you glad I left you in high spirits instead of having the sci-fi story come last?)
The Contrarian Corner 