Short Story: UnderRoute Chaos

Why did all these walls had to be so lifeless, I asked myself.

“This building is like an exoskeleton of a factory. Or maybe an alien species that landed on Earth for our destruction.” I said as I gawked at the roof and numerous rooms we were passing by.

Mr. Broadway turned around and smiled at me. I smiled back at the aged individual as he led me through the labyrinth that was the Alcatrax building.

“You have quite the imagination, Mr. Garnt. Its difficult to find individuals like you today.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that, Mr. Broadway?”

“Doesn’t the youth of today give up easily? They’re less confrontational and would probably agree with a mass-produced opinion rather than questioning it.” Mr. Broadway turned around to look at me. When he saw my disagreeing face, he turned around and continued to walk before saying,” Of course, I could be wrong. All I am is an old man looking into today’s culture from a distance far away. I, for every right reason, adore your attitude, Mr. Garnt.”

I liked the fact that my host was agreeing with me on my terms and principles. That made me cheer up and I thought agreeing a little with him wasn’t a bad idea after all.

“I mean, you’re not completely wrong. Its just that, I can think outside of the box when I’m not in college.”

“Ah the classical example of ‘education facilities limiting the creativity’. May I ask what you are studying, Mr. Garnt?”

“Well, nothing right now. I’m aiming to become a YouTuber. Online reviewer.”

“Creative mind and unconventional career. I hope you are successful in your interests.”

“Wow. Thanks Mr. Broadway. Not many people are so supportive with unconventional jobs.”

“Not me, Mr. Garnt. I have a vision. A vision that tomorrow’s youth would be better leaders than we ever were. And for that to happen, they’ll need parents and guardians and influencers like you.”

I liked how Mr. Broadway thought. He said that I could be a leader in the future. That I could make a change. That I could become an important figure.

“May I ask how your visit to this island helps in your career?

 “I am looking into it for imagination and impression. I mean, all of these convicts are rotten. They killed, they tortured, they massacred in the name of law and religion. I am a sane person who can look through all of it. But I need to step outside of my box to make content that’d appeal to the kids on the internet.”

“I have no comment on the demographic you’re aiming at, but I can strongly disagree with your thoughts at all people here are some ravenous monsters and savages. Whatever they are today doesn’t hide the fact that they were a sane human, just like you, at one point.”

“Please don’t get me wrong, Mr. Broadway. All the individuals that have recently come into public light are heinous. Every one of them has screws loose. But when this detail also included their conviction by the FBI, the rate of trust in our government goes way up.”

“You think this is a propaganda?”

I succeeded in changing the subject!

Mr. Broadway and I talked about the social structure and government until we reached a small room. it included two chairs, one table and an enormous cabinet. Mr. Broadway went towards it and opened a drawer. I peeked into it from the doorway, only to find it filled with brown paper files. He took out one of those files and walked out of the room. After closing the room, he handed me the file.

“Your subject’s file, Mr. Garnt.”

I opened the file and found only a single document. It was the document with the most basic stats at time of conviction.

NAME	ELLE RAYAT aka RIOT
SEX	FEMALE
SCALE	5/7
OPERATION	CONFINEMENT
RELEASE	NONE

“Ohh, a lady, huh? I like it Mr. Broadway. But, wait. Why is she a 5/7? I thought you had two 7/7 and five 6/7. By the order people are visiting your site, I’m the sixth one here. That means I should be meeting an individual with a rating of 6/7.”

“Mr. Grant, what do you know about the scale?” Broadway asked.

“It’s like how dangerous an individual is. 7/7 is almost psychotic, 6/7 is almost the same, but with lesser body count. Sven Igor was a 6, I saw it on the TV. The very first girl who came to talk to you, Coles, was granted the details about a 7/7. If it goes like that, I should be given the details of a 6, and not a 5.”

“Mr. Garnt! Please be patient. If you do so, I’ll explain why you’re granted Ms. Elle.”

I closed the file and looked at his face. He had wrinkles growing on his forehead the longer I looked at him.

“Elle Rayat is a 5 because of her intentions. And one more factor, which she’d like to tell you herself. If not for these two reasons, she’d be a 7/7.”

I opened my eyes in surprise, but them I squinted them to question the old fella,” Intention is such an intangible factor. How did you even compute that? That is such a confusing system you have here.”

“You know, you have a keen mind. I like that, Mr. Garnt,” saying that, Mr. Broadway started walking into the empty hallway again.

 “Sir, are we going to meet the convict?”

“Yes. You’ll be the first one to meet one of our individuals here. You’ll talk to her like you’re talking to me. You’ll ask her the questions which are appropriate to ask another person. And you’ll respect her for whatever details she provides you with.”

After walking for two hundred metres, he turned left to face a door and pressed a combination of numbers until it made a *CLANK* noise. He turned the handle and let the heavy door swing inside. He took a step inside, while I followed him like a lost puppy. What I saw in the room really shocked me.

It was a well-furnished room with a queen bed, an LED and a game console laying on the ground. A woman in her late thirties was laying on the bed eating chips with console in her hands when we walked inside. She looked at Broadway and tilted her head to have a better look at my face. Immediately she turned her head back towards the LED and continued with her game.

Without turning she asked, “What do you want doctor?”

“This is Mr. Garnt. He is here to talk to you about intentions, obsessions and sanity, Elle.”

“Take a seat, I’ll answer all of this chick’s answers,” Saying that, she put down her controller and looked at us with glitter in her eyes.

We sat down on the cold surface of her cell. There was a pause before Mr. Broadway touched my shoulder, encouraging me to speak.

I looked up at her, and posed the most obvious question, “what did you do to land here?”

Elle waited for a second before she burst out laughing. Through her outburst she said, “All right, that is one questions that will cover everything I am.”

She turned her LED off, put down the controller and turned to face us, “Let me tell you a tale of a girl. A girl… in pain.”

“Elle was born as Eleesha in a middle-class household. A house that comprised of a sick grandfather, a hardworking mother, a doting father, and a cute dog. Life was good for her amongst these handful of people, but the social structure of the country was going in a hole. At a very young age, Eleesha saw her parents getting their heads severed by the members of ‘Liberation Tigers’. The time of civil war did not provide adequate morals to her fragile and impressionable heart. Her grandfather died of the sickness and her only companion was her dog.

One day, she saw a ship leaving for Iraq, and decided to leave this godforsaken land. Her escape, however, cost her dog’s life. While she did manage to board the ship, she saw its captors shove a flare down the dog’s throat and pulling its pin, burning the dog from inside out. That was the first hit on her insanity. It was not until she reached Iraq when she realized she had stumbled on a war-torn land. For her survival, she decided to fight. The impressionable mind of hers got the first taste of blood when she put a bullet in a soldier. That was the first hit of obsession, because in the coming decades, Eleesha would die, and Elle would rise.

After the war ended in Iraq, she decided to go to the greatest country in the world, America. But unfortunate for her, another war was bubbling under the surface. This time, she became a volunteer, eager to shoot at command. That was the first lick of intention on her.

While her time in war, she caught an enemy soldier and decided to try the ‘flare grenade trick’. She broke the jaw and arms of the soldier so that he could become a little more willing to co-operate. But something else whispered to her. she let go of the soldier and stripped his pants off. She pushed the flare grenade in his anus and pulled the pin. Muffling his screams by pinning him to the ground, the soldier died flailing on the ground like a fish.

The cruelty of war is that these actions aren’t looked down upon but are encouraged. And that, became Elle’s reality.

After returning from the war alive, she learned the art of torture. She respected nothing more than violence. She saw the guns and bombs as the light at the end of the tunnel. She participated in the Los Angeles Riots to begin. After her impact to get solutions through violence, she gained a following. And the next decade was spent traveling the world. The U.K., Turkey, Indonesia, Spain. If there was a riot, it had something to do with Elle.

She’d capture the people who she thought were in the wrong, drag them into the most publicly accessed area in the country, and massacre them to make a message. Cutting of limbs, using melted iron and glass, cutting along the lines of arteries were common business. But her signature move was still the flare grenade, and she became very creative with its use.

As the time passed, her anger for the world disappeared. Instead what was left was the joy she got from gouging out eyes. In her eyes, she was doing a favour to society. Her obsession also diminished, because once you start enjoying what you do, you don’t have to force yourself. And that is how Elle came to be known as ‘RIOT’ across the globe.”

I was sitting there on the cold ground, listening to her story. It seemed like Pablo Escobar flaunting his smuggling skills to me. She sported a bright smile for the whole time she walked me through her life story. I peeked at Mr. Broadway, who was carefully looking at Elle. He turned to look at me and stood up. Giving me a hand, he thanked Elle for her time, and exited her cell with me. After locking it from behind, he continued,” Riot was caught in Pakistan a long time ago. She was treated and diagnosed with multiple personality disorder. As her primary personality Eleesha was in the dark for a long time, she has trouble sustaining it. While talking to you, she did slip into Elle, but she was harmless.”

I looked at Mr. Broadway and asked, “Who treated her?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Garnt, answer to that question is not in the deal. Now you see why she is 5/7? She doesn’t kill anymore, and her intentions and obsessions were separated from her sanity. Compute all that, and you’d get a human being.”

I was still sitting there on the ground, shaken. Was I supposed to pity her for what she had suffered? Or was supposed to ridicule her existence for all the people she hurt?

I took my ferry back to the mainland and took my Prozac before writing the script to my first video.

TITLE: ARE YOU A HUMAN IF YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR?