Lies Of The Future

Lies Of The Future Part 1

Wendell's alarm blares at him. Constantly ringing, it awakens him abruptly from his good sleep. He waves his hand to switch it off and the loud ringing stops. He opens his eyes at his dark room, things of his everywhere, not put away, not tidied away like it should be. He sits up, and rubs his weary, tired eyes and scratches his short brown hair, waking himself up.

"Wakey, wakey Wendell." A woman's voice runs through his room, speaking to him. No one is with him though.

"Yeah, I'm up." Wendell responds, hopping out of bed and stretching himself out. His back cracked a few times as well as his neck. He walks around his muddled room, clothes laying everywhere on the floor. A bottle of whiskey sits on his desk with a glass cup near it, still with whiskey inside. He takes a drink of the cup and finishes it off.

"That's no way to have breakfast." the voice says to him, almost as if it can see what he is doing without being there in the flesh. Some sort of A.I. Wendell was used to her though. It was his personal assistant.

"Well then, Lisa, why don't you make me some breakfast." Wendell remarked.

"Ok. What would you like?" she asks him.

"Just toast and a coffee." Wendell orders. Inside his kitchen, the toast that sat in the toaster ready to go, lowered inside the toaster, heating up the crummy bread. The coffee maker switched on, and a red button illuminated. As it did, coffee poured into a cup, ready for Wendell. He walked into his kitchen and grabbed his coffee and sat on his chair, looking at his glass TV screen.

"Give me the usual updates, Lisa." Wendell told his assistant.

Lisa proceeded: "High Cyanide gas levels in sector's 4, 5 and 8. Price on food has increased in Sector 3. High Extremist activity in Sector 4 and 5."

"What about up here?" Wendell asked.

"Cyanide levels are normal: 53%. Low Extremist activity on ground level. Price for food is the same."

Wendell looked at his watch. It read the time 07:15a.m. He had to get to work. He finished his coffee then went back to his room to get dressed. He put on his white shirt, black tie, trenchcoat, black jeans and shoes. He took his gun and put it in his back pocket. Wendell had that gun for a long time. With the advancing technology in the world, guns that used bullets were out of fashion. Armour become bullet resistant and it wasn't effective for police anymore. Plasma was the new groove in this day. Wendell, the youngest detective in the EEB, was the only one to still use Generation X firearms. He was ridiculed for that. People didn't get what his reason for it was, only that he was still young and more attached to things back in the Generation X era. But Wendell liked it. It reminded him of what life was like, before this anarchy and living in fear.

Wendell looked around for his mask. He needed it to go outside. The cyanide gas would kill him in seconds. It will affect your lungs and tear them apart, giving you trouble breathing and suffocating you. Then you'll pass out, and 5 minutes later, your brain begins to die. All memories die out and the brain stops working. Then your heart muscles stop. Your blood stops pumping to your organs, vessels and arteries, and your heart stops beating. While this gruesome process happens inside of a person, on the outside, you start having violent seizures, where you hurl vomit everywhere and your skin turns cherry red. It was a necessity for the population of each sector to have a mask in this world. The lives of people depended on them. The EEB had special full head masks for detectives that were meant to look menacing to scare Extremist groups and intimidate them, and Wendell kept that at the EEB headquarters. But he couldn't find his mask that he needed.

"Can you find my mask, Lisa?" Wendell asked her.

"It is not my responsibility to look after your stuff, Wendell. You need to make sure you remember these things." she told him. A BEEP went off.