The White Horse

A short piece of experimental fiction. Set in a dystopian future.

I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals.

Then I heard one of the seven living creatures say in a voice like thunder,

"Come!" I looked, and there before me was a white horse!

Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown,

and he rode out as a conqueror bent on Conquest.

 

-Revelation 6:1- 2

 

An infinite blackness suddenly became your groggy vision. The plasmid solution drained from your chamber, sloshing into a grated basin in the floor. You looked about the room, the thin rays of moldy sunlight casted pools of efflorescence on the tiled floor.

Your head hurt. Your mouth, dry, failed to open �" failed to scream. You proceeded to pull the electrodes from your soaking body. Your face cringed with unknown pain; and your teeth ground together. You then looked to the intravenous needle in your arm. You plucked the lifeline out and frantically threw your arm above your head, cringing even more. A thin stream of crimson blood ran down the length of your biceps and pooled in a nook created by your chest and arm.

You breathed slowly. The machine beeped three times. A dull whirring commenced and the cylindrical enclosing slid open. You stepped out on to the cold tile floor, your naked body shivering in disgust. Pacing the cramped apartment you searched for some clothes.

Your drawers were completely empty except for the specks of cockroach droppings littered about. You clenched your buttocks and wrapped your arms around your waist in an attempt to fight off the bitter cold. You looked to the small canvas cot in the corner of the room. The dark blue woolen comforter was balled up on the end of the cot. You slowly walked over to the cot and grabbed the itchy blanket. Swinging the blanket over your back like a cloak, you shuddered as the coarse fibers rubbed your skin. You clenched the makeshift robe to your breast and trudged to the front door.

You stepped out into the deafening silence. All you could hear was the dull hum of the wind and the frenzy of it rustling the skeletal trees. You came out of the breezeway to a flight of stairs. The stairs looked out upon the city street �" a dismal show of nothingness.

Dropping off the last step you could only glare and wonder at the scene before you. Cars lay dilapidated on the curb, leaves of litter fluttered aimlessly in the moaning breeze, windows were smashed, and bodies lay mangled and gaping open. Worst of all was the stench. Following the wind like a freight train of death was a light and dirty smoke - the pungent smell of death lingering on every gaseous particle.

Coughing, you looked down the road towards the center of the city. A huge monolithic refinery loomed in the distance, set against the gray sky as a hazy and desaturated blue. All about the complex were smears of polluted ocher clouds whose tendrils and puffs were almost impermeable �" thick and milky, so they seemed to shroud the sun.

Protecting yourself from the wheeze of disorder wafting throughout the streets by covering your mouth with your blanket, you made way for the refinery hoping for signs of life. The insidious towering walls of the apartment blocks contained only you and the remnants of a once thriving society. Walking suspiciously, you soon began to wonder just how long you had been out. Your memory was long lost to the eons of higher neural activity forgone during sleep. All that was left was your deep and dull childhood memories. Your sight was still sharp, and your hearing as acute as ever. Your inability to speak would soon fade and you could hope to relearn most of your previous language. Your literacy was slower, given your hazy vocabulary.

Despite all the antagonistic forces at work, you could distinctly recall a time that was at least somewhat more fortunate than this. The smeared grays that ran rigid against the infected sky were once shining silver monuments of endeavor that glimmered in a pastel blue sky. The sky was less bloated then, the trees were vibrant with life, the sun was always high in the sky �" clinging to the hope and promise of tomorrow.

Now the only thing that distinguished day from night was the darkness. Powerless, the city would rest in solemn hope that the moon just might appear betwixt the clouds and provide even a brief moment of calming direction. No streetlights flooded out the dark veil of corruption, headlights failed to mobilize a counterattack �" a seed of pure evil had been planted here and its roots, stalks, and buds had spread like a venomous plague.

As you prowled the empty labyrinth you started to notice peculiar signs. The empty alleyways soon became filled with posters. Street lamps were fastened with loud speakers and bomb sirens. You stopped at a small street corner before a large and foreboding lithograph. The man in the picture startled you. His hulking figure stood atop a vast mountain of slain adversaries �" women, children, and the elderly. His burly hand gripped a thick tuft of matted hair from which hung a grisly severed head. On the forehead of the decapitated visage was a cross like symbol tilted at an angle. Your eyes followed the chaotic image to the bottom where self-righteous and emboldened text rang out: KILL CAPITALISTS.

Further down the stretch was another poster of similar style and grace. The man on this one was huddled in a building corner surround by filth �" visibly his own feces and makeshift blankets that covered bottles of vodka and bent syringes. His half-naked body was sucked dry, emaciated, and sagging like lifeless putty. The vile graphic of blood running down from the sky struck a background for the grimacing face of a wild and fanciful politician that hung translucent in the clouds. Your weary eyes read the text that lay upon it like spilled blood: CAPITALISTS KILL.

A sickness came upon you as you walked away. You clenched your stomach and wretched, trying to fight the wavering urge to vomit. You once again started to wonder how long you had been asleep and why you had slept through such a radical event. You remembered that cryosleep was only initiated when the threat of a nuclear attack was at a high possibility. You realized that you were not safe. Curiosity no longer propelled you. Your dictator was now fear. You began to run. Your bleeding feet kicked up plumes of once settled soot. Blocking out the ever increasing presence of the vile posters, you looked only ahead. Not even I knew what uncertainties lied ahead for you. Your perspiring face rang with pain, dripping sparkling gems of salty effluence. You felt trapped �" sick and enclosed in this foreign world.

You ran for what you considered an eternity. The sun had begun its western descent and a cool irradiated orange ambiance swept over the city. The air grew too chilled for your exasperated lungs. You stopped in an abandoned intersection, letting your blanket drop to the still earth. You hung over with your hands about your knees, gasping. Your hair hung loose and saturated. You started to fade. Your subtle glow against the dark oppression was beginning to lose its illumination. You looked at your worn and dirty feet, your splintered and swollen toes throbbing in agony. You were then distracted by some sort of ominous sight.

Indentations in the soot had caught your eye. They were familiar markings but you couldn't seem to remember what they were. You concentrated intently on them, trying to recollect your deepest and most repressed memories. They gave you no time. A tremulous roar erupted down the street. You stood erect, your naked body standing out against the grime and darkness. You looked to the source of the terrifying sound. Two bright lights stared you down like the blazing eyes of a murderer. You gasped in the icy air. Your complexion became a flushed white. Your eyes widened, your heart began to thump in disbelief, your feet settled.

The roar grew louder and louder, the lights brighter and brighter. You stepped back, retreating in terror. The lights engulfed you in a pallid swarm of glowing light. You leaned against a wall, wishing all the while you were already dead and could simply pass through the brick and mortar to the other side �" to safety. The roaring ceased all of the sudden - but the lights remained intently shining on you.

A black silhouette stepped from within the lights. It walked over to the front of what you now realized was a vehicle. The figure stood perfectly still, the glint in its eyes staring you down. The figure came a bit closer to study your trembling and fleshy body.

“What are you doing in these parts, plebeian?” the voice rang out in the dead silence. It was a he. You trembled even more. “Answer me, you wretch! Where are your coveralls?” He paused to relish the strange sight of the naked man that stood before him. “What's your name? Your number? Let me see your marking! Now!”

You shook your head. Your eyes began to tear. You turned yourself around trying to block the man out. The man, too, turned around and signaled with a waving hand. Another large and dark silhouette came from the truck, this one carrying a sub-machine gun. You turned back at the sound of the gun cocking. You stared at the man with the gun.

“Give us your name and number, now!” the second man yelled, lifting the automatic weapon.

“If you don't cooperate we'll throw you in the camps! Do you want that? You like workin', wretch? Comply, live. Resist, die.”

You closed your eyes and envisioned me. I showed you the way and I opened your mind. You smiled with a calming peace. The tears in your eyes ceased and you looked up. The men grew nearer. The barrel of the gun grew larger. You stared them down. The first man grinned. The second chuckled.

“What now, eh?” the leader said.

“You have chosen to die in the camps? Is that your fate? We come to help you and you refuse our grace? What do you say? Do you not speak German?! Where are you from!?”

“God bless you. May he bless you all,” you said looking at the man with a stare of forgiveness.

“What'd he say? Did he just-?” the second questioned in ignorance.

“Kill him,” the first mumbled, turning back towards the car.

The man lifted the gun and aimed down the sights. The gun glinted in the deadly white lights from the truck. The man pulled the trigger. In the flashes of yellow light you caught your final glimpses of your killer. His face was covered by a hazard mask - white and hard, shining in the muzzle flare. Two large bulbous eyes that refracted the yellow swarm of death stared deeply into yours. His tight black uniform stood placid and well cleaned, emblazoned with medals and elaborate stitching. On his forearm: a red sash with the twisted cross from the poster. His helmet shone in splendor. Then he stopped. The clinging of bullet casings echoed off the brick walls. A tuft of smoke whirled from the barrel of the gun. You sunk to the ground and watched the man walk away. The truck retreated into the darkness and left you to die. I took you in and embraced you.

Here you are now in my home, far from death; but also, fortunately, far from what life I had given you. Don't look at me that way. Don't judge me, for I have not judged you. Life is as life does. I am no instrument in this. No seals have been broken. I've called on no horsemen. My children have chosen this for themselves. It pains me to know I can only watch. My hands are not for meddling in free will. They cannot change you, touch you, or move you. They only persuade you. So do not look to me with those eyes, child. Do not blame me. Soon the people of this world will burn every last memory of their existence to the ground. They will look to me for help. I will look back. I will smile as I always do. You and your brethren will look down with me, and smile much like I do. We will, in harmonious unison, look down and answer their calls. We will reply with one word. No.