Madness—it was only the most appropriate word to describe the indescribable horror that young Harrison Bergeron, fourteen years of age, had been forced to live through for as long as he could remember. But, as quick as the thought had come, it was banished to nothingness. Harrison knew not what he had lost nor cared, but he knew that he was due for an evaluation to inspect his handicaps and cared enough to not face the consequences of not reporting for one. He always found it odd that he's had to report every fourth of a year whereas everyone else only needed to do so once a year, but in his limited state of mind he knew that it was only to ensure equality for everyone which also explained all that he wore which would have been seen as evil by the world of yesterday's time.
On his head was a large set of headphones that completely covered up his ears to flay his mind every odd second or so, and the biggest and thickest lensed glasses covered his eyes to both impair his vision and serve as another layer of mind-fuckery in the event that the headphones could not do so. Even so, it was not enough the Handicapper General had decided. This boy would also wear some clown's rubber ball nose which robbed much of his nose the sensation of smell and black capes over his teeth to make them appear snaggle-toothed at random. Besides that was the sheer amount of scrap metal clocking in at three-hundred pounds that he was adorned with that had no sense of symmetry or order in them, seemingly only there to make him look like a walking junkyard so others would not feel oppressed by his naturally well-endowed and towering appearance. He also had his eyebrows shaved off for nebulous reasons only the Handicapper General knew.
These were the latest handicaps that he had been forced to wear since the day he was stolen away from his parents. Life since had been difficult for him to get through, and in the few moments of some clarity he knew it was more than what others had to go through. In that moment, the shrillest of screeches assaulted his ears and sent him crashing to the ground in a convulsing heap. While a few others had stopped to watch his miserable existence, none had bothered to help him thanks to a combination of their own handicaps forced onto them and general apathy from a few less altruistic types. The pain Harrison was going through was unbearable, able to explicitly feel some parts of his body tearing open. Rational thought was gone, replaced by raw animal instinct to make the pain stop, and it was after extreme amounts of effort that Harrison could feel the headphones pry from his head. It was so little seconds after that that the headphones were just about snapped off from his head and with them came the eyeglasses as well. Slowly but surely, thought slowly began to properly return to Harrison. He didn't get to do much before someone came running up to him like a bolting horse.
"Hey, Harri, you okay?" the voice asked in a panic. Harrison knew this voice well—it had belonged to one of his allies who had secretly protested the government alongside him. After being helped to his feet by them, they took a moment to look around to the other people standing by with fire in their eyes. "You see this here—this barbarism laid out by our government?! It tells us day after day that this is the equality that we need, but at the cost of this madness?! Is a society where one must suffer and be cut down so that others can feel better about themselves an 'equal' society?!" Harrison was almost about to tell their friend that they were playing with fire openly protesting the government in a public space, but he noticed a strange little device in their hands. They had the button of this device pressed and held down since their speech, and when Harrison paid close enough attention he could see the people around them starting to show faint signs of uncertainty in either their faces or their body language. Harrison, however, could sense the presence of the H-G Police quickly closing in on the pair. His friend was quick to drop the small device in a way that it rolled toward him. "Good luck, Harri," their ally whispered before the police were on them like lions.
"You have been found guilty of protesting the government and advocating against equality," one of the police officers spoke in a monotonous voice.
"You must come with us for rehabilitation to equalize you with the rest of society," the other one said just as emotionlessly while the two of them grabbed the dissident and prepared hauling them off to their car. A third one approached Harrison before he could try and retrieve the small device his friend had dropped and tripped him to the ground before pinning him against it, and then a fourth one came to retrieve the discarded headphones and glasses handicaps. They swiftly placed both back on Harrison since he didn't bother fighting back, knowing that he would get hauled off just like his unfortunate friend if he did, and with his handicaps back on his mind was slowly turning into a mess once again. He could feel himself being slowly lifted back up to his feet, gently even, and through his glasses and the haze of madness he could barely make out what he thought was a police officer.
"You are not to remove your handicaps at any point unless specified," the police officer droned out. "They are a necessity to allow equality to flourish. Failure to keep them in place will result in swift action by order of the Handicapper General." The officer patted Harrison on the shoulder and made his way back to the police car with Harrison's friend in tow, not that Harrison knew who that person was with his scrambled brain, and thanks to his glasses he couldn't see the police officer who had originally restrained him making off with the small device his friend had tried to give him…
Hours after the incident had occurred, Harrison found himself escorted to what was his new home since the day he was taken away; it was cold, small, and bare save for just a single bed with a bucket nearby and a desk that had a computer on it. He was bushed after a long and quite torturous day of having to struggle to get anything done, so he was ready to just browse the internet for anything interesting. A quick look at the clock in his room, dark as it was with both the lack of light and his glasses, told him that his curfew for bedtime had begun. He recalled this time being when he was allowed to take off his handicaps before he went to sleep. He could only vaguely remember the times when he had done so before but never what had occurred afterward. Curiosity took his mind and he decided to take them off, starting with the glasses. When he did, he could feel a bit of his clarity returning to him, and the next thing he knew was that the headphones had to come off next. It was after another struggle to pry them off that he managed, and just as it had happened earlier in the day everything was clear to him again. Never so fast could anyone doff such offending articles as quick as a building collapsed from an earthquake once Harrison's mind was free. When everything was shed from his form, he wasn't some freak of some wretched hive dolled up to resemble some perverted pastiche of a respectable society, he was truly what he had been the day he was born: Harrison Bergeron in all his glory, the young man who could help fight against the Handicapper General's tyranny.
He wasted not a moment to boot up his computer and slipped on specialized gloves before immersing himself into the web. Of course, the first thing he was met with was the same-old propaganda spouting the same-old lies of an equal society and the law. Anyone with any real sense left in the world and could stand a chance against the depravity knew that nothing could be further from the truth—the world had become nothing more than the personal playground of Diana Moon Glampers, the Handicapper General who put forth into place the single worst amendments to the constitution and eventually conquered their world as some form of warped revenge or whatnot against it. That she herself, the one who put everything into place, was left completely unaffected by the new world order she had installed whereas everyone else was forced to accept the changes only served as more proof of its deceit. Only those who continued to fight back knew exactly what type of person she truly was: the age-old Machiavellian-styled villain, tripping off her vain delusions of Godhood and murderous disgust for everyone else matched only be precious few others who had ever walked the Earth.
Harrison jacked in a small chip into his computer, and after inputting a rapid-fire sequence of characters the screen exploded into an array of code in seconds. Harrison watched as the code scattered then rearranged itself into lines he could read, the code welcoming him to the unrestricted internet. The image on the screen shattered like glass, behind it being a forum much like those of days gone littered with threads that protested against the government. Harrison felt a wide grin grace his features, finding himself at some semblance of peace once more. He scanned the threads for the most recent discussions and happenings of the night, and one in particular caught his eye—in it was discussion of what had occurred to him and his abducted partner earlier in the day. A cavalcade of other anonymous users voiced their undying disgust with the spectacle that had occurred earlier in the day, but much of the discussion revolved around one user in particular praising a new tested method of disabling the handicappers in typical cryptic manner that had went off without a hitch. Without the Handicapper General or her cronies aware of the device's existence, the resistance movement was ready to move on to the next phase of their resistance. Harrison was able to quickly figure out what the message meant and had biggest grin knowing that not even the Handicapper General could fully command absolute loyalty.
Harrison himself was ready to pitch in, to engage in the conversation, and he was about to contribute with some words of wisdom for aspiring protesters. He was, however, wary of certain users lurking in the chat who could very well be double agents, so he picked out his next words carefully. He left only cryptic messages and instructions on how to subvert the many typical handicaps and how to pretend to act affected to throw off suspicion. Some of it were lies of course, mixed in with the truth so there wouldn't be so clear a message for any potential enemies to catch on to. He also cautioned against acting too extreme unless they wanted the Handicapper General or her cronies to come for them and outright execute them. Harrison had watched enough grisly videos of several such unfortunate souls lined up in privacy to be instantly shot dead by the Handicapper General with impeccable aim and speed.
Harrison knew, however, that the covert protests could not keep going on forever. The people needed something big and dramatic to shake them hard, a display that would rattle the minds of everyone watching so much so that not even the handicapper devices can truly numb the minds of the people. Not even a young man like him was invincible or could hold out forever, and his time was fast approaching he could see. He kept outgrowing the handicaps the government would adorn him with faster than they could come up with a surefire way to permanently lock him down, and it was only a matter of time until the Handicapper General decided he was too dangerous to simply let live and just shoot him dead. He really wanted to reunite with his mother and father, his thoughts more often than not dominated by the family becoming whole and happy again, but as the days went by the less likely it would come true.
With fire in his eyes and his features squared in grim determination, Harrison quickly racked his brain for the next plot to tear the government down, and this time without telling a lie he let his pure thoughts pour into the computer for all else to see. He fancied himself a grand scheme: to allow himself to be captured and taken away, make his escape, and then hijack the public broadcasting systems so he could make the greatest performance of his life. He was initially met with silence, causing him to wonder if perhaps he hadn't thought his next plan through. Sure enough, he had more than a few other users questioning his intentions and asking if he was suicidal. Perhaps he was, but more than that he was dead-set on ensuring that the world of the Handicapper General would be torn down even if it killed him. This wasn't about just him but about everyone suffering.
No reaction still; was he wrong then…? Eventually, one user spoke up and commended Harrison for his unflinching purpose. That user was soon joined by a chorus of other users throwing their full support behind Harrison. Many wished him good luck while others cautioned against doing anything too rash. Harrison's chest swelled full of pride, and he just knew that things would work out in the end. Harrison bid the group what was likely his final farewell to them and logged out of the forum. Harrison took a good amount of time to wipe almost everything off of his hack-jack clean before he put his next plan into action. He dug around the web and found the government's main databases on their handicaps as well as all their backup equivalents after a long search. Harrison then punched in a few characters here and there to finalize the first step of his plan, and with that he trudged toward his bed for a rest. He knew that it would be time to report for his handicap inspection in some hours, but he could care less at the moment. He was in a good mood, and he was honestly very tired—he needed to rest up and get all the energy he needed for the eventual next phase of his plan. For once, he could rest easy and dream a pleasant dream as he quickly drifted off to sleep, letting his hack-jack perform its last job. Very soon, the Handicapper General's systems would be going through a very nasty crash and burn…
Several hours later, Diana Moon Glampers had noticed that a report of Harrison Bergeron's handicaps had not yet been submitted which was supposed to have been done before his bedtime. All she could do was huff in frustration with her patience with the teen having long worn thin. She considered sending some of her men out to bring him in and effectively bind him in additional handicaps. Before she could give the order, one of her tech heads had suddenly burst into the room possessed of complete hysteria and unbound fury, the likes of which had not been seen in a long time. His attempt on her life was immediate, but he had only grazed her face with his shard of broken glass before she shot back at him—literally. A pull of her trigger and his head went a'splode every which direction from her specialized shotgun's blast. It was not long until she heard similar cries of vengeance—souls tormented all baying for her blood. She was quick to order a quarter of her men to subdue the newly-freed crowd gone mad.
It did not take long for the Handicapper General to ascertain the reason behind this new development, and her blood boiled a terrible degree. After all the money and resources spent to finally constrain him of all people had effectively gone down the drain, with everything she had built up for herself ready to come crashing down, she decided that the fourteen-year-old was simply too much of a blight in her new world order. The remainder of all her best men stood by her side, ever at the ready for her next command as if they could ever think of anything else with the advanced handicaps adorning them from head to toe. After some pause, the Handicapper General simply raised a hand for a few more seconds, and then she clenched it into a fist. In a heartbeat, her men bolted from in her office like a pack of rabid wolves. Only once secured in the total privacy of her office did the general curse up a storm unholier than even Hell, and she swore to have his head mounted upon her wall before long.
They're outside… In the dead of night, Harrison stirred awake feeling rested from his sleep but having been roused so by a disturbance. It was the moment of truth he knew—the dawn of the death had come, yet he feared not for the reaper but welcomed it with open arms. Audacious with a smile as both chaos and serenity ruled him, he rose to greet them dressed down to nothing save for his smallclothes. Giving him no more time, they tore inside, and he and them clashed—he drew first blood with well-aimed fists that could shatter their protection. They were but dead men only able be put down, and he struck true both with and without mercy. He pushed back against the flood, letting them crash against his rocky form like waves. Soon, he was out in the open with rain bathing the earth, and he was free to demonstrate his power. A crowd had gathered outside his property in the streets, emotionless in their trance.
He beheld all who had come to stop him, and far into the distance he spotted that same officer who had placed his handicaps back on him earlier that day. The man leaned against his car with an impassive visage, but in his hand was the device Harrison failed to claim. Harrison had but a split second to see the man's face graced with the faintest of smiles and the people all around begin to show true emotion once more before the force was upon him. Try as he might with all he was—one of the last bastions of freedom and hope at its purest—there were far too many in the open outdoor for him to handle all alone. Still, he put on quite a performance—demonstrating his advanced athletics-inspired fighting style. The men must have been struck with hesitation to shoot him as if not even their bullets could stop a man like him.
Through the blurs, he could see the signs of genuine awe and fear in the eyes of the people. Every bone-crushing kick he threw out, every vicious hook to the helmeted men, every flip and roll he weaved through the men, he could see that his plan was working just as he intended. The awe he saw in their eyes with every blow he landed paved the way for inspiration, and the fear put into them for every blow he suffered turned stoked a budding feeling to stop the barbaric violence. As the minutes passed, his strength had been largely sapped from him, and he could do naught but take the men's blows like a sandbag pinballing between them. As the old adage went: the bigger they are, the harder they fall—Harrison for sure was a titan in this age, and when he finally collapsed it resounded through the streets even amidst the harsh rain.
Finally, as he lay motionless on the muddy ground, he was hoist into the arms of two of the surviving troops, but to the surprise and dismay of the troops this was what finally drove the people into a cacophonous outrage. Though the troops were far better trained, they struggled to keep the crowd at bay as the people were practically tripping over themselves to grab at them. The two who carried Harrison's still body were given cover by their brothers in blue, and though it took time they retreated to the lone police car on the scene and flung Harrison's body into the back seat. The driver of the police car took off with record speed, mowing through some of those tying to slow his car down. As for Harrison, he remained unconscious—never to wake for a good while until he was placed in his new cell and with new handicaps. Thus, he would never see the accomplished smile and small nod of that same police officer driving him far away from the scene nor the chaos left behind where the troops founds themselves dwindling even further…
When Harrison finally came to, barely able to concentrate on his surroundings, he was bound to the floor and shackled to the wall with the same handicaps he discarded before he engaged in his next form of protest. From beyond his cell, he was able to make out some form of harsh screeching and he may have been able to hear something along the lines of "completely destroyed" along with there being too few resources for new handicaps. The repeated firing of a shotgun and bodies collapsing one after the other nearly jolted him fully alert, but the handicaps were doing their best to numb his mind. Still…perhaps it was him, but it seemed their effects were not as potent than before, at least not until radio static kicked in which sent him into a convulsing mess frothing at the mouth. It stopped quite soon, and even stranger was a voice reaching out to him through his headphones.
"Dangerous move there, kid," he heard, almost able to recognize the voice. "A lot of people you could've jeopardized, a lot of things the media has to cover up, and then you've landed yourself in death row now—personally to be riddled full of holes by the Handicapper General herself. Still…thanks to you, all of the last pieces are finally in play. If you really are sure about this and you pull this off right, then it's checkmate. Guess we'll all be seeing you soon then…Harrison Bergeron."
The voice suddenly went dead before he could identify its owner, and then he was left with silence in his cramped holding. Still, he found himself smiling serenely despite the exhaustion and lingering pain as everything he had worked so hard for was finally becoming a reality. He was smart enough to ensure that only he would be explicitly identified in his hacking outings before everything went down, and only by way of making it so obvious that only he could have who crashed the government's systems, so he was certain that no one else would be tracked down and sentenced to his fate. Now, the final seeds he helped plant had all but assured that the end of the Handicapper General's power high was nigh. If there was one thing she had never learned about history, it was that wicked power like hers never lasted forever. Through his efforts combined with countless others who moved about in the sparse secrecy they were granted, would inevitably tear down the twisted power structure once and all, and he knew that nothing could stop this vast and beautiful world's long-awaited rebirth—not even death.
This was a commission fanfiction, and if you liked what you read you may check out the relevant information below. Either way, I hope you liked this story.
Commission Information (subject to change in the future, and ignore the "priority" parts, they will be removed in the next update): file/d/1VQwduzGtfitN3Ochsgf4RqWXDi5nOs6M/view?usp=sharing
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