The Perfect World: Part 1

(Hello something I wrote a long time ago for a philosophy class! Pardon if there issues.)

“Hello my fellow Terrans! Today I speak to all of you about the changes some of you are trying to bring to our great world.” a man said while standing in front of a podium, a giant video screen hung over his head seeming to broadcast the event so the huge crowd of people could watch in silence as this man spoke. He was dressed in a fine purple suit that seemed to show off the man’s impressive physique. He stood at around six foot five, in peak physical condition. His hair was immaculately cut and styled so well that not a hair was out of place. He had strong facial features that made him look as if he was cut from stone by one of the great Greek sculptors. When he spoke, his voice was both powerful and charming, attention to him wasn’t forced or taken, but it seemed to be given freely. Not a single person within the thousands of people in the crowd dared utter a sound. He looked down for a moment at the crowd under him. They were all organized by color. The closest to him were others who wore purple, then there were the red shirts, after he could barely make out the green shirted group that was standing barley within earshot of the huge speakers that flanked the young orator. He knew that beyond those green specs were the dregs of society who were dressed from head to toe in brown. Within a second the man looked back up and assumed a dignified position as he spoke to the crowd, his face was now closer to the mike so even the browns in the cheap seats could hear what he was about to say. “I know some of you think you should be somewhere else in life! Some of you believe that you should be able to perform certain jobs! Some of you might even believe that the marks we were given at birth prove nothing, but you’d be dead wrong.” At this there was a small cheer from the purple section, which forced him to stop his speech, but with one stern glance they were soon silenced. “Our great Nation was founded on the principles that we have today, and any fluctuation from these laws, would cripple our social and economic structure so greatly that we may never recover. Our system has worked for 2509 years! Why should the system that has stood strong since the beginning of time since our savior died be abolished? Seriously think about this for a moment! Delta’s can’t do some of the work that requires the intellect of a Gamma, Gammas don’t have the physical strength and the keen minds of Beta’s and Beta’s don’t have the abilities many Alpha’s are given. Could you really imagine a tall and bulky beta doing the clerical work of a gamma, or a  Gamma chasing down a criminal better than a Beta. Could a Beta lead the people of the world like an Alpha could?”


        The crowd was bustling with talk and some outright laughter, at the images of a strong but slows on the uptake Delta trying to open a filing Cabinet with his big meaty fists. However the speaker noted the looks on a few of the Beta’s and maybe a green shirted Delta in the back had sullen almost hopeless looks on their faces, as their compatriots laughed.  As soon as the talking subsided, he began his speech again, this time there was a hinting disbelief of something within his voice, but this was lost among the seemingly endless horde of citizens that had gathered to see this one man speak.


        “We….we as a people must remain within our genetically predisposed classes. By doing this one thing every citizen, whether they are Alpha’s or Delta’s can contribute to the stability and longevity of our world. With this in mind we can create a better future for those who grow up now. A world where everything is chosen for you, a world where your genetics choose your job and place in society. Our children will not have to worry about dealing with the unnecessary trials and tribulations of finding their places in this world. S….so…so that when they grow up their world will be like the Utopia we live within today.” At that the speaker stopped. Those within the crowd were overtaken by joy. They clapped and yelled; all the while he heard the unbridled masses chant his name. “Augustus!” “Augustus!” they yelled.


        At this the man quickly stepped off of the podium and hurried off of the stage. He seemed like a different being as he strode quickly down the metal stairs that lead down from the huge stage. His face was not confident and happy, but melancholy and depressing, the color disappeared from his slightly tanned cheeks and his posture doped down a bit. At the base of the stairs there was not a single meaningful thing besides the man’s black with purple pinstriped vehicle. Just as Augustus got within five feet of the car a strong masculine voice called out to him. Reluctantly the man turned around to be greeted with a familiar, but unwanted acquaintance. It was a man clad in purple. His skin was far darker than Augustus’s , but this man’s hair was as well cut as his. Not just that, but his suit seemed far more lavish than his alpha counterpart. The man wore gold rings with purple jewels, and even this gaudy man’s shoes were a kind of off black purple. He bowed towards Augustus and spoke, grinning from ear to ear he spoke, “Fantastic speech my friend, that one speech should cut my problems in twain.”

        Augustus looked at the man in front of him and sighed a little. “Antony, my speech wasn’t to bore the shield division, but to stop innocent deaths.” Antony chuckled a bit, “Innocent deaths?” he inquired. While taking a cigar and silver lighter, engraved with purple jewels. “You should stop treating these lower classes like their like us. Delta’s are so idiotic they couldn’t screw in a light bulb without a Gamma’s instruction.” He said as he lit the cigar and put it gently into his mouth. “They aren’t like us Alpha’s, Auggie. They are below us; they should strive to work in their genetically given jobs not for themselves, not for our economy, not for the children, but for us.” He concluded casually blowing smoke out of his mouth like a damn chimney. Augustus hated Antony with such a passion; he could barely keep his facial expressions in check. Antony was the text book Alpha to a tee, he was handsome, strong, smart, and intelligent, but he was also an arrogant bastard. He believed so much in his own superiority; he was blind to seeing what the real problem was. He was blind to the problems of this world, he accepted the idea of genetic superiority, he revealed within the ideal that he was superior and, because of that, he could do as he wished. Augustus had always thought different, but dared not voice his opinions; even though he was the first “mind”, he was higher in level than even the leader of the shield, but still kept his opinions to himself. It took every ounce of will for him to quickly agree with Antony, and then politely excuse himself from the conversation. Afterward, he turned around and entered his vehicle, not before Anthony shouted out one more disturbing thing: “Too bad I can’t make an example of a few more rioting Delta; made my damn year.”  Augustus got into his vehicle, that was soon airborne, and on its way towards a huge building and blazing lights, that seemed to be sparkling like stars in the dawn light.


        “Good day Mr. Augustus.” A red clad Beta said to Augustus as he walked up to the purple and gold embroidered doors of his home. The house itself was much too large for one to live in alone, but was so much more than a house. It was a status symbol of all Alphas, one which Augustus had to follow. “Good day Bruce. You know you can call me Jason, right?” Bruce smiled. “I know Jason; it’s just a bad habit.” Dorian looked at his security guard and noticed the tired look within his friend’s eyes and inquired. The answer was one he didn’t expect. “Sorry Aug…Um Jason, it’s just that my wife is pregnant and the baby’s due in a few months.” Jason was taken aback, but didn’t show it. He implored Bruce to go home and get some sleep. Bruce was off in a hurry, back to his warm home and loving family. Jason was a bit envious as he strode through the doors into his desolate unpopulated home. Within minutes he was sitting in front of the video screen with a cup of hot tea and a plate of food watching the news. At first there was news on a few trivial things, but then a story came on that glued Dorian’s eyes to the large wall screen.


     “Now our top story for today.”, the anchor woman said, in her off red business attire…the next few minutes were filled with a recording about Antony’s previously mentioned fun. A few Deltas, who were sick of the conditions within the mines decided to rebel. There were a few Betas’ and Gamma’s hurt, but no one was killed. Antony solved the problem with the Security Sentinels. They were robots left over from the pre-war era that still functioned and helped the leader of the Sword keep the peace. About fifty shining silver sentinels walked ever so closely towards the rioting Delta’s who had crude signs saying “Not safe, No work”. Antony strode up to the front of the silver clad soldiers, raised his hand up and let it fall effortlessly down. As soon as his hand went past his waist, the creatures fired. It was a slaughter, Delta’s screamed in agony as the laser fire literally ripped them to shreds. Then the view moved from the tragic fate of the Delta’s to the look on Antony’s face. There was no remorse whatsoever, no empathy, no compassion, he watched living breathing creatures die as if he were watching television.


    “Crash” the huge screen shattered into a million pieces. As they fell to the ground they reflected the terrifying look on Jason’s face. It was a mixture of anger, hate, hopelessness, and fear. He sat there for quite some time contemplating what he had just seen. It wasn’t justice, it wasn’t even acceptable within the darkest of circumstances; it was massacre. Ever since the day when he began to interact with other Alpha’s, he had never had the same opinion on the lower castes. Should a Delta be killed for wanting to not catch black lung and die?


      “NO!” The voice within his head cried. Once again Augustus felt the terrible pain that he had felt all his tortured life. He had once again agreed with the minority, he had caved into the pressure of being part of a group. His speech today had cemented the toil of the Deltas and Gammas for at least another twenty years; until there would be another inevitable uprising, and the following bloody punishment. The thought of this ravaged his mind. Over the years as the leader of the Mind, Jason had let Deltas die, Gammas wither away in little cubicles, and Betas put through rigorous and sometimes dangerous training to perfect their abilities. Dorian slinked forward and stood up. He walked limply along the dark corridors of his home, past the training room, full of martial arts equipment. Here he had developed his own martial art that Bruce helped him perfect. Martial training only kept him sane for only so long. Next he passed a huge liquor cabinet, where Jason had spent a little too much time at in past years. This too eventually became useless. Solemnly, he opened the door to the sterile bathroom. There were no stains, not so much as a speck of dirt on the purple rug, but it did house a dirty secret. He threw off his jacket and crouched. With a frantic movement, the rug flew up into the air and into the bathtub. One strange tile poked out from the floor. He pulled it up and then reached into the compartment it covered. He pulled out a small silver case with a red cross on it. It was laid down on the sink and opened revealing its contents. There was one box cutter, a pair of sutures and everything needed to repair a cut. A morbid look took over his face, as he thought of how much he hated himself. A little chuckle came out from his lips as he thought about the irony of it all.


   He was the single solitary leader of the mind, the greatest Alpha on the planet; looked up to all of the people on Terra and he hated himself so utterly, so completely that he had to resorted to this to feel better.  Jason quickly took off his shirt and pants, while he held the razor in his mouth. Within seconds he had the blade in hand. The other hand pulled up a side of his boxers to show an area with cuts woven on top of each other. With one quick frantic movement he brought the box cutter across the scarred area. Once, twice, thrice, he kept cutting and cutting. Blood began to ooze down his leg as tears trickled down his pained face.


        “It’s my fault!” he thought. “If only I were stronger” “If only I had the courage.” By this point crimson blood was oozing out of his body and down his leg, taking away all of his pain as it dripped ever so beautifully down. All he could think about was the saying he had said for as long as he’d had these urges.


        “No man can stay sane within an insane world.”


        After about an hour Jason was back in his home, sitting alone within his empty bedroom that was covered in purple, and all of the opulence that the other Alphas seemed to love so much. It was terrible, within the darkness of his home.  A sudden urge overcame him. Once within a book he could only barley remember he had heard of a great king who would dress up like his subjects and walk among the masses. It had been so long since he had emulated the king, but it was time.


    “Hmmmmvhhhhm” the craft hummed as Jason flew over the city. He made sure to stay away from the main traffic. He slowly made his way from the bright lights of the metropolis that danced effervescently in the dark night. Soon ruins came into view. There was barely any light coming from the area and dust blew madly in the wind, accenting the huge decayed buildings that once stood tall in the twentieth century. Beyond the wreckage that once was a great beautiful city there was a small settlement, constantly surrounded by a dense fog. Jason parked his vehicle down just a few miles south of the settlement. He got out fully dressed in dark black work boots, brown pants, a black shirt and brown jacket. With surprising vigor and a slight smile on his face he began walking towards the cloud of fog.


        The smirk had disappeared from Jason’s face as soon as he stepped out of the terrible smelling fog. He saw the very essence of poverty. There were huge lumbering Deltas of all colors and genders lumbering around like lifeless drones. There was this defeated look in their eyes that gave Jason this terrible pain in his heart every time he saw a Delta shuffle past him, lifelessly like some type of zombie.  The buildings that Delta’s walked in and out of constantly could barely be called buildings. They looked as if they had been created from the wreckage of the old world.  Ramshackle shelters that barely looked as if they were habitable lined the dirt streets. Jason saw a few of the other castes. There were Gamma’s ordering people around, and Betas armed and standing guard, but most of them were Deltas, with their skin and bodies permanently marked by the tough work within the mines. He walked for what seemed hours, past the huge smoke belching factories, past the small area where there were semi habitable homes, and out of what was known as Dust Town. Soon he was alone walking around within the wreckage of the old world, nimbly wandering through the wreckage; until he came to a bridge.


        It was large and ran over a huge body of water, it was gigantic in size and somehow majestically managed to survive the bombardment that had destroyed so much, and the test of time. Jason seemed to be drawn to this monument like a fly to a light. He wandered across the bridge hopping from the tops of ancient cars and trucks, until he came to a still standing walk way. Cautiously Jason stepped onto the walk way he had found, trying his best to not notice the creaking noises he could hear from under him. He made his way forward one calculated step at a time, until he came to the edge. Down below him, there was a vast and swirling body of water. It swayed back and forth like the emotions within his heart. As he looked down he wished the river would take him, allow himself and all of his problems to be consumed and forgotten within the swirling depths of the dark waters below. Tightly his hands gripped the old rusted bar that was his only hindrance from a watery death. Transfixed on the waters below, Jason didn’t calculate his steps as he walked along the walkway, one hand still gripping the bar like a vice. For an eternity it seemed he walked along the tattered remains of the bridge, still transfixed on the ever shifting waters below. Every creak his steps made were lost among the sounds of the water below him, until one loud creak altered him. But, it was too late.


        The railing behind began to fall into the ocean below. At an amazing rate the metal ground began to disappear at an accelerated rate. So much so that he could barley manage to graB the security bar before the ground beneath his feet were lost. One hand held the bar franticly.


        The bar groaned as it bent due to the weight of the man holding on to it for dear life. Jason looked down at the waters below him, full of debris. Perhaps he could make it if he clung to one of the floating metal structures, but his thought process was cut short by the metal bar finally giving way under the immense stress it was under and breaking. It sent Jason hurtling down into the cold and dark waters below. He went under. Within the murky depths debris from the bridge filled his field of view. Sharp metal bars cut his flesh, as he descended down into the darkness. On golden symbol caught his eye, however and he reached out to grab it. Barely conscious he somehow managed to grab it. He clung to the object for all he was worth, hoping that it would somehow help his predicament.


        The golden letters on the shape said “Golden Gate Bridge.” This was the last thing he saw before he would succumb to his limits and passed out.


Light shown down upon the ruins of what once was a monstrous city, teeming with life; now some desolate wasteland. The light high overhead shone down on the river, making it shimmer and gleam like some precious gem. There was one occlusion that was noticeable within the gems shimmering shape. A man, tan skinned, dressed in black and brown, and floated atop a golden sign; close to the banks of the river. It figure was motionless as he rode atop the sign within the ever moving water.

        Another figure stood there looking at the man. It was a heap of olden clothes and wore a heavy mask over its face. A long dusty black cloak covered most of the body from view. The figure stood still as it analyzed its quarry, for any sign of life. For a few tense minutes it kept still. After this time the figure slowly began to hobble away, convinced that the man was dead. A loud gasp stopped the creature in its tracks, as if by the will of some otherworldly entity his chest began to rise and fall, slowly and minutely; but surely. The figure raced into the knee deep waters and grabbed Jason. Dragging it onto shore, it put the side of it’s head next to his chest. After a few minutes of poking and prodding him to check his health, it grabbed a leg in each arm and began dragging him towards the twisted metal of the old world that still rose to astounding heights.


“Tik” “Tik” “Tik” “Tock” Was the sound that Jason woke up to. His eyes slowly opened up and were flooded with the blinding rays of artificial light. Shocked he jerked up suddenly, and felt a crippling pain run from his ribs all the way down to his toes, and all the way up to his aching head. The pain awoke him like adrenalin. With new vigor Jason began to examine his new surroundings. Old fluorescent lights dimmed overhead, there was old visibly work furniture everywhere, a few old electronic devices, that he’d never seen before, and books. Hundreds of books were scattered about him. They were contained within old bookshelves, poked out of draws that barely managed to contain them, and they were scattered all about him, as if someone had voraciously read all of the books and had decided to just leave them where they lie. He himself could be better. A mirror that barely hung to the wall across from him reflected how the great Augustus looked now. Bandages were wrapped around his head and some were stained with blood. Around his almost bare chest, medical tape stretched across his abdomen and back around his shoulder. Pain resonated from his body every time he moved his body. Tired he collapsed back onto the old couch and laid his still aching head on top of a torn pillow. Within not even a second of after his head hit the pillow a old torn book fell atop of his head. With his left hand he grasped the book and went to throw it, but then he paused.


        The title on the torn and faded cover of the book read Animal Farm. Curiously he examined the back cover and finding the words on the back too faded to read, he cracked open the book and began reading. What else was he supposed to do in this situation?

        Hours went by and Jason wasn’t able to stop reading. The book he had though idiotic at the onset had become ingenious. He had seen traces of his world within the stained and torn pages of the book. The Deltas were like the horse and the pigs were akin to the alphas. It made him wonder was there some great revolution that once took place, that he had no idea about, something so great and prolific that it was stricken from the record books? Just as he finished the last page and found out what the pigs had become exactly like those they were against.


        He chuckled to himself. “Perhaps the Alphas that ruled the world had once been put down and abused. Perhaps they moved up to a position of power after a revolution.”


        Just then at the far western door, at the end of the room blasted open. There standing in the door frame, wind whipping its cloak about stood, with a plastic bag in hand. Sternly, but quickly it closed the door behind itself. The heavy militaristic boots made the old wooden floor wince in agony as the figure strode up to Jason; whose only defense was the book he held within his hand. He readied the book to throw, but stopped as the figure got closer; taking a kneeling position right next to him, while it opened the dirty plastic bag and spoke in a muffled voice.

        “I wouldn’t do that you have three broken ribs and an injured shoulder. It would be best to just sit down and relax.” Surprisingly he complied with the strange figure. Something about its voice calmed him.


        “So,” Jason asked his savior. “Why did you save me?”


        “You can’t eat decaying meat,” the voice calmly replied.

His face filled with dread at the person’s statement. He quickly grabbed the book and prepared to attack, but the muffled chuckling that came from the figure stopped him.




(all rights reserved to JBillusion) 



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