Chrono Trigger
The Factory Ruins; our main protagonist is now obligated to participate in a deadly race if he wishes to continue on his way…
It is from my experience that leads me to say that nothing is more frustrating than having plans made for you, but not being told what they are. When it happens there is a moment of surprise followed by a face flushed with embarrassment. When anyone is put on the spot it causes resentment and annoyance in the heart for anyone who would dare put them in such a predicament. No sooner did these words leave the hermit's beardy mouth Crono immediately understood to whom he was referring. Notwithstanding the obvious, he could not help but clench his fists as he seethed his question through his teeth.
"Who is going to race?"
"Well, who among you is the fastest driver?" He said with a knowing smirk.
If he was not such an old man, Crono's clenched fist which was anchored by a well-toned arm would collide against Belthazar's face. For a brief moment he imagined his fragile frame crumpling to the ground only to rise to its knees and have its mouth spew out apologies. However, as soon as this thought entered his head the guilt grew incrementally until he forced his hands to unclench. However, his fingers were still tensed as if they had the overpowering urge to strangle a throat.
"Why didn't you tell us about this?"
"I told you that I had a job for you, and this is it."
"Why would you leave something like this out? Why do we have to race? What the hell is this place?"
The very atmosphere of your surroundings has the power to change the characteristics of a person. Being in a light, happy place would evidently lead someone to be happy and cheerful. Being in a gloomy place would lead you to be humble and thankful for what you had. Being in an environment where one was forced to work tirelessly for no apparent reason causes one to become easily agitated. It seemed as if this wise, yet strange man, began to put it all together and he realized that he was skating on thin ice. He looked towards the other two, who would have flinched at such language when they first visited the dome; however they had their arms folded as if they were adamant about their feelings and they seemed to have desires to add words of their own.
The old man decided that it was best that he explained everything now and cease his amusing charade, "What I have failed to tell you is this: I usually have to go three days out of my way to cross this valley when it could simply take a minute to cross that bridge up ahead." His wrinkly old hand pointed to that same bridge that seemed to stretch for over a mile over a rushing river. "It is true that Arris dome is up ahead, but truthfully I have no wish to go there."
"And why not?" Crono asked.
He sighed mournfully, "The poverty. My old heart can no longer bear it. Only Nu makes the occasional trip."
"Your heart seemed to bear leading us around by the ear, so why should I believe that you will still take us there?"
"I had no plan to do so, but I had another idea of reimbursement and you must win to receive it."
"Win this race? Against who?"
Of all the things I have said about fate over the course of this story it can easily amount to this; fate had impeccable timing. No sooner had the question left his mouth there was the sound of a roaring engine. He spun around, while the hermit only watched him, knowing already who the strange visitor was. There was a gust of wind as something gray and vermilion speed by, leaving a large cloud of dust in its wake. Once again it circled around the vehicle with such finesse and skill that the group could not help but raise an eyebrow in admiration.
A raucous voice which seemed to belong to an over-confident youth echoed across the land, "Are you back again, old man?"
"Who is that?" Crono whispered harshly.
"That, my boy, is Johnny and he is the man you are going to race."
Lucca and Marle did not like this. Not at all. From his contorted expression which seemed to hide anger, it was evident that Crono was not particularly fond of the situation himself. They had exited the vehicle to see even more sentries posted about the premises, and even worse they all seemed to be armed. They all stood at different levels and at different spots, looking over crumbling ledges which used to be the stories of a building, yet they were organized enough to have formed a circle that enclosed five people: Crono, Marle, Lucca, Belthazar, and the strange thing known as Johnny.
Perhaps you may wonder why anyone would refer to a thing like Johnny as a "thing" but the answer is solvable simply by looking at him. He was not human, yet it had the appearance of one and even the voice and emotions of a cocky teenager. However, his skin, which was dark, shone as if it was plastic or some type of metal. Another old thing about him was the fact that he looked more like a marionette, his arms being connected by gears and ball bearings. In fact, he was a machine designed to emulate a man, but with one strange addition. He had large exhaust pipes extending from his back, and what seemed like tires were wrapped about his shoulders. He was not sure why; perhaps it was his spiky hair or his laid back demeanor, but Crono saw that this marionette held a certain respect for him.
"So, who is this guy right here?" His voice even sounded human, unlike the other humanoid creations that surrounded them.
"Johnny, for years I have been trying to find a way to drive your friends out of here and take this bridge."
"That ain't gonna happen, pops. You see, this is our main source of income. If we let some old dude in for free, then everyone is going to come through."
"I also know that you wanted some human 'spare parts' to make yourself appear more real..."
A dark chill engulfed the party as he realized just what he was insinuating. "You aren't gambling away our lives, are you old man?" Crono clenched a fist and advanced on Belthazar, but was stopped by the sound of a cocked weapon. Sure enough, several robots were standing about, waiting for any reason to open fire. Crono looked around himself and grunted in frustration as he stepped back. Belthazar looked at him with a bright smile, and the words that came out of his mouth would be infuriating if it wasn't for the fact that he looked so sincere.
"I know you will win, that's why I am using such high stakes."
Marle was not so easily soothed, "You monster! You can't do this!"
"Don't you have faith in your friend? Don't you think he can win?"
"That's not the point, and you know it!" Lucca retorted, stating the thoughts of her future queen.
"Crono, let's leave! We can let this man go on by himself!" Marle half-shouted and half-begged.
Crono looked at Belthazar hard and nodded, "Yeah, let's go. We will have nothing to do with you. Find a way across yourself."
It was at this point that they heard something that made their blood run cold. When Crono stepped forward earlier he only heard one cocked weapon. When they turned to leave it was a whole symphony of clicking arsenal. They looked above and around them only to see that every gun was aimed right at their heads. They heard the pounding steps of rubber boots behind them, and a cocky voice that said, "Now, now, you have me come out here and make an appearance, only to back out? I don't roll like that, my friends." They turned about to see Johnny waving a finger as he grinned spitefully, "It's just not, how should I put it, civilized."
"And taking lives is?" Crono said, glaring menacingly into his face.
"What makes you think you will die? All that will happen is that I will take a little something from you and replace it with machine."
"What would you do with what you take?"
"Don't you wonder why I sound so real; like a human?" Johnny asked with a grin. The question was rhetorical, because at that moment he answered him in the most vivid fashion. With his hand, he punched a hole into his own chest to pull back the metal. Imagine the horror among Crono, Marle, and Lucca when they saw a space full of pulsating organs. They gasped in horror as he went on, "I used to be human, you know. I was attacked by a mutant, swallowed whole, and I fought my way out. Even then, the damage had already been done, and I was discovered by a group of men. I still had my larynx, my brain, my heart, and my lungs, but you can imagine that I lost a lot with those acid burns. They managed to replace what I had lost with machine. After that, I was an outcast and people were horrified of me. I was depressed of course, but overtime I learned not to give a damn." Johnny looked to the sky wistfully, putting a hand to his chin, "Then again, I do remember how much fun it was to sense things; to smell, taste, to feel. I could care less about being fully human again, but I would appreciate taking your nerves. If you prefer to do it the hard way, that's fine by me."
"So what, are you going to kill us then?" Crono said, gripping the hilt of his sword.
"If I were to kill you and take your organs, then nobody would come this way. The fear would cause my means of income to end. But if I need to…"
"If you race and win, you can keep your skin and pass through. If you lose, he will only take yours and leave the girls alone." Belthazar added in.
"Of course," said Johnny with a laugh, "I have a little bit of a gentleman in me after all, no pun intended."
"I'd say not enough! Why don't you take Belthazar's?" Crono spat.
"He's old, and I would say past my prime. You, however, would be perfect."
"Crono, let's just fight our way out!" Lucca shouted, moving her hand slowly towards her gun as did Marle.
"Go on," Johnny said, "that way I can have any choice I want between three bodies. You do seem strong, but can you dodge so many bullets at once?"
Lucca and Marle looked about nervously and hesitated, but looked adamant in their actions. Had Crono kept his silence they would assuredly try their best to fight them off, but he growled in frustration before saying, "Stop you two! Johnny, if I lose will they both be unharmed?"
"Crono, no!" Marle said harshly while tugging on his arm.
"Yes, they'll be fine. Of course, you would have to be operated on, but they'll be fine."
"Crono, let's fight our way out!" Lucca stood poised and seemed collected, but if you were to look at her eyes you would see tears swelling at the brim of her lids.
"No," he said, holding out a hand, "it's better this way."
The girls looked down to the ground in hopelessness as the two racers shook hands in agreement.