DISCLAIMER: Khashoggi, the only WWRY character present does not belong to me, obviously. The rest do. (Didn't we all need to know that?)
The room was dark. Silver moonlight filtered through venetian blinds, creating tapes of light that stretched across the floor. There was a computer turned off at a large desk, and a huge black chair next to it. The rest of the room was lost in shadows, and the heavy door was shut.
Alone in this darkness was a man. He was sitting in the chair, and if you were to look at him, he'd easily pass off for a statue. His white hair, ash grey suit and pale face all added to the effect. In fact, the black sunglasses on his face could have easily been placed there by someone playing a joke. But the man was actually a living, breathing being. His mind just happened to be in an entirely different dimension. The virtual world.
While all was still in that room, colours and words were flashing before his eyes. Or so they seemed to be. Still, the reality was though he seemed to be doing nothing, he couldn't be more busy. Processing reports, accessing old ones, finding new information on the Internet. Plowing deeper and deeper into the virtual world, trying to find as always, anything that could be considered a sign of rebellion.
Normally the man would have an entire department working this job for him, but he was paranoid. Always he knew, there had to be something those idiotic drones missed. Or chose to miss. Otherwise they would have found so much more. There would be so many more reports to go through, so many more to write. As always, the work was endless.
The man was so caught up in his work, in fact, that it took an age for him to realize there was a shocking new development in the world he'd left his body in. Tearing himself away from the current task, he woke to address the situation.
The door to his office was wide open, plunging it into a sea of light. A girl came rushing in. Her clothes were ridiculously torn, and patched with colours that clashed. Her hair was dyed several non-matching colours, and cut short and spiky. Her face was an explosion of fear, adrenaline and desperation. She abruptly turned and slammed shut the door, throwing the room into darkness once more.
He was so drawn aback about the sudden change, that he didn't stop staring for an embarrassingly long time. Then coming to his senses, he saved all the files and reports still open, and switched off from the virtual world altogether. He studied the girl more carefully now. Her breathing was short and ragged. She'd been running. She was also quite obviously not a worker here. And that only left one option.
"Can I help you?" He asked stiffly.
The girl jumped several feet and swore almost as colourfully as her outfit. She spun around to look at him, her eyes wide open.
"Shit!" She hissed, and launched herself at the door. After some nervous scrabbling, it flung wide open and the girl disappeared.
He considered following her. On the one hand, it would be absolutely dreadful if whatever she was running from didn't catch up. But on the other hand, in an outfit like that, he was sure they'd spot her even in a virtual ball park.
It was mostly morbid curiosity that brought him to his feet in the end, and perhaps a sense of duty. His limbs were stiff, and walking proved to be a difficult task. This little problem was soon solved, however, when a familiar blur of colour launched itself into him. It bounced right off like a ping-pong ball, and flew straight into the hands of a very red faced man.
"Ah, were you gentlemen looking for this?" He asked, stiffly again, surveying the group in front of him. Four men in camouflage uniform held guns pointed at the absurdly dressed girl. An older man, dressed in a smarter uniform, had his hands clasped very firmly around the her arms.
"We were indeed Commander. Seems this rebel got it into her head to escape just before we took her to the Seven Seas of Rhye. Apparently she doesn't understand she has no hope in the world." The older man responded, snarling the last words at the girl, who flinched away from him.
The Commander looked on, mercilessly squashing any compassion he felt for her. It didn't do well to favour the enemy in this line of work, and he was well practiced in throwing his emotions out the window whenever the moment called for it.
"Well, you'd better not let her waste any more precious time, captain." He said tonelessly.
"Yessir." The older man smirked, slapping handcuffs on the girl behind her back.
The statue-man turned away, eager to get back to his never ending work, and was ready to shut the door when the girl began screaming.
"No! Please! Anything but the Seven Seas! I'll do anything!"
He could hear the captain grumble, and shake her violently. "Shutup!" He commanded.
"I...I know where the Bohemians are, I could lead you to them! Just don't-"
"I said shut up, you filthy little-"
"No! Wait." The Commander interrupted the captain's insult. He had frozen still ever since the word 'Bohemian' was mentioned. Spinning round, trying not to seem too excited, he stepped nearer to the girl. Noticing now that her face was streamed with tears and black make-up stains, it made it all the harder to lose sight of his emotions.
"But Commander, she's talking gibberish!" The captain cried. "Everyone knows the Bohemians are just a myth."
The statue-man ignored him, and continued to stare at the girl through his black sunglasses. "You know where the Bohemian's are?" His voice wavered with the telltale sign of excitement.
The girl's mouth gaped wide open, closing slowly inch by inch until she was able to look into that soulless gaze, and speak.
"No." Her voice was small and quiet. The Commander felt the hope which had been blossoming up inside him crushed as if under a ten ton anvil.
"There, you see! Lies." The captain hissed triumphantly, pushing the girl along.
Fighting to hide the disappointment, The Commander turned back to his dark, empty office.
"No!" The girl cried out again, far more desperate now. "No! I can help you find them! I think like them, it would be easy!"
"Listen, miss, if you don't shut your-"
"Captain!" The statue-man magnified over the top of the older man's voice, throwing him into a stunned silence. Again, his sunglasses covered eyes stared unnervingly at the girl. He paced closer to her, setting everyone on edge. "You would hand to me the lives of countless..." For lack of a better word. "People? All just to keep your own sanity?" He asked incredulously.
"I...I..." The girl stuttered, secretly cursing herself for getting into such a mess. A mental battle of morality waged in her head. The Commander knew this look, he'd seen it on countless torture victims in the past.
"Yes." She finally answered, firmly as she could.
He gave her a scrutinizing stare, so hard that she had to drop her gaze to the floor. He certainly doubted her earnest, and knew little about the situation at hand. But if he could get that one step closer to proving once and for all that the Bohemians really did exist, he'd take every chance he had.
"Very well." He decided. "Take her to the Conditioning Chamber, I'll deal with her after that." He signalled for the men to move on, and returned back to his dark room to hopefully be in peace. Listening intently on the way, he heard their feet shuffle off, and the continued conversation between girl and captain.
"Wait, what's the Conditioning Chamber?" She asked.
"Well, it's very much like the Seven Seas of Rhye, miss. Only instead of wiping your thoughts of rebellion, we simply smother them with the innate desire to protect and serve the corporate company commonly known as Globalsoft." The captain replied decadently, chuckling softly as their footsteps faded away.
She came to a while after that, and couldn't remember a damn thing about anything. It was disturbing at first, but the unexpected grogginess of her brain dulled any fear. After remembering her name things seemed a lot less daunting. Then she remembered the last few hours, and any comfort was quickly forgotten.
Rebecca had finally worked up the courage to wear the outfit she'd been making for months, (sewn together from at least eight Ga-Ga girl garments) after a fit of exasperation leaving her with a new haircut. The Secret Police had happened upon her extreme appearance before she'd even made it to school, and try as she did, she couldn't outrun their helicopters.
The scientists that stared through the prison bars in disgust declared her unfit for normal society, and suggested the Seven Seas of Rhye. Of course she'd had no idea what this meant, and wondered what would become of her whilst the Secret Police made their 'preparations'. A kindly prisoner in the cell next to her had pointed out she'd be turned into a living zombie, devoid of any individual thought. This had scared her. So when the police came, she broke free and ran for her life.
Then of course she'd stumbled into the office of that scary looking commander, possibly the most stupid thing she'd ever done. And even worse, submitted herself to working for these dreadful fascists.
Lifting her head, she discovered she was sat in front of a metal table. Her arms were lost somewhere behind the back of the chair, and deciding the snag on her numb limbs probably meant her hands were cuffed, she resigned to the fact she was entirely defenseless.
There were two guards stood by the door to her left, but they were so motionless and blank, they could easily be holograms. A sense of dread washed over her. My God. She thought frantically. What if I've turned out just like them? If that were the case, she thought she'd rather end it all.
Before she started making plans, however, the door burst open. She jumped. Two more expressionless guards marched in, before a figure that made her gut clench graced the open space. She was beginning to get the feeling that the grey suit and sunglasses were iconic. It didn't particularly seem sensible to wear them when it was so gloomy in here otherwise.
The Commander had a metal chart in one hand, and more surprisingly, a half empty bottle of some form of alcohol in the other. He also had a rather unusual gait, and Rebecca was working high on the suspicion he might be drunk.
"Alright, let's get this over and done with, shall we?" He declared, and she cast away all decisions on the Commander's sobriety. It was as if he hadn't touched a drop, pardoning his loudness, of course, which caused her to flinch.
He threw the chart down on the table, and by the sheer power of dramatic irony it spun round to sit comfortably in front of her. On its top surface was a screen, featuring an unflattering picture of herself and information she'd never even disclosed to another soul. Somehow she wasn't surprised the secret police had dug it up.
"No experience in espionage, no graduation, no social skills..." The Commander allowed a sneer to blossom on his stone-like face. "And you want to apply for Participant Observation? Do tell us how you exactly plan to pull this off."
Rebecca lowered her gaze, desperate to avoid his malicious stare.
"I... I told you, didn't I? I think like them. So.. So... I can be like them, you know, fit in, like." She replied awkwardly.
"And, how do you feel about betraying them? For working with Globalsoft?" He pressed, dark sunglasses not turning from her face.
This sparked an anger in Rebecca. Something she'd never felt so strong. "Globalsoft is a wonderful and necessary organization!" She spat.
It took her a while to register what she'd just said.
"Wait..."
A couple of the guards chuckled at her bemusement, the Commander's face barely changed a fraction.
"Conditioning will make your plan slightly difficult." He drawled, obviously getting a perverse pleasure out of her suffering.
"Then why did you do that to me, you sick...eningly fantastic," She choked. "Man."
Horrified, she coughed. There had to be some way to get this out of her system, she couldn't go on forcefully complimenting the very people she hated. It would drive her insane!
A silver eyebrow crept above his sunglasses. "I did it because it's Globalsoft protocol. The Killer Queen has – issues – with security; doesn't like the idea of dissent in the ranks. Quite frankly, I don't think anyone would.
"And so, now you can probably see why we can't have any old, talentless nobody just waltz in and play spy. You're really going to have to prove yourself."
Rebecca was overwhelmed with a terrible sinking feeling. She'd never known Killer Queen. Seen a few pictures, her logo on worldwide emails, and plenty in the news. But she was beginning to suspect she wouldn't like the woman at all, and proving herself to Killer Queen's dreaded company was sounding like quite an impossible task. She also didn't feel too convinced she'd even be given a chance.
"And," She said slowly, "How would I go about that?"
"Start from the bottom, just like everyone else. But be warned, you'll be watched one hundred percent of the way. And should you slip up..." The Commander paused to tip the bottle back into his mouth. Rebecca nervously watched him swallow, and winced when he slammed it down onto the table. The remaining golden liquid sloshed around like a tiny tsunami.
"I think we both know where you'll end up."
And with that, the enigmatic man strode out of the room, leaving Rebecca to watch the waves inside the bottle calm to a mild tempest. It was then that she noticed the label of the bottle, grey with shiny gold detail, and the words 'Rye Whisky' embossed on its surface.
She was sure it had to be a joke.
Ok, well that's it. I don't really intend to continue it, but what do you guys all think?