The Misbegotten
Scourge - Fall 1988 thru Summer 2018

I can’t sleep.

I have too much on my mind. I don’t even know why I’m typing my thoughts. Isn’t there anything else I could be doing? The love of her arms and the warmth of her body eases my mind and lulls my body to rest. Sleep isn’t finding me this night. The constant vibration of the ‘Unit’s ultra-quiet mechanisms have nothing to do with it. Neither does the unfamiliarity of my surroundings.

I am restless.

My thoughts continue to wonder – subject after subject. My mind will not stop. I can’t find solace in anything. I can’t stop worrying. I keep seeing my wives and my family, and I can’t shake the fear of losing them.

This fucking Shadow Spark business has wound my ass up tighter than a first year felon locked in a maximum security prison!

We haven’t faced anything like this in recent memory. I keep wondering if we’re up to the task. It is true, we have the tech and the training, and of course, the years and years of wisdom. Still, it has been so long.

Are we ready?

I’m uncertain even I am “ready” after my ridiculous tirade yesterday. I have always been capable of controlling my emotions – always! My dead uncles taught me how to master myself centuries ago. I know better than that. It was foolish. It was reckless.

I can’t explain what came over me. I never knew my memories were still so raw, so unexpressed. It has been such a long time. And yet, I find myself asking, why do I miss them so much? Why does it still hurt? Why am I still mourning their deaths?

Maybe Flavia is right. Maybe I should explore the sick thoughts in the corrupted gray matter in my head.

…Maybe I should use the Delving program.

The idea of beginning a journal and recording my sordid past seems like the thing to do, but will it work? Will it matter? How is sifting through the past going to stop anything from happening to my wives?

Ah, fuck it! This is all bullshit.

Why am I so afraid…?

*****

Alright, I give.

It has been the better part of an hour and still my eyes will not close. I’m using the program now, but only on its shallowest setting. I need to explain some things first. A deep Delve makes true narration impossible. I need to be able to speak with the full capacity of my mind, so I can build the scene, the setting, the feel of the twenty-first century. None of you have known it like I have. You need the background, some detail and a rather large dose of history. I’m not talking about the crap you’ve read on your holo-screens or from the Combined Corporate Storage Decks. You need the real McCoy fuckers! You need the smells, the tastes and raw emotion from the time of my birth.

Later, I will dive deeper, but for now… I will narrate.

As I have already stated, I’m uncertain by writing this down I will see any real benefit come out of putting my memory to words. I do believe though, as Flavia has mentioned, I have nothing to lose. Because of this, I have come to a decision.

It couldn’t hurt.

She has convinced me of that at least. Maybe on some basic level, this will help me understand some metaphysical part of myself. Maybe, in turn, this will help me comprehend some of the import in the present.

It all sounds like hocus pocus to a man such as me though. Am I not the fucking Keeper of the Peace or what?

Why are you stalling?

Ok, ok… well, here it goes.

Let me say this before I go any farther with this project. Before you attempt to make heads or heels of what I am trying to write. I must confess. I have never done anything of this nature before. I’m not one to sit still, in one place and jot down thought after thought. I am not a writer. I do not want to be a writer. I have never had dreams of one day putting ink to the quill and letting the world know of the wondrous things within my brain.

This is due, for the most part, that which goes on in my head isn’t typical or all that nice. I’m almost always enraptured in one quest or another, eager to figure out who will be my next bedmate.

Flavia was right, you know. I am always in the mood.

Now, I see where some of you may be as perverse as me and, thus, interested in such pornographic musings. Nonetheless, I’m sure a majority of you wouldn’t like to peruse such topics in detail.

So, there you have it. I’m not a writer, and yet I am writing, because I can’t shake the notion what my wife has told me a few hours ago. According to her, this is something I must do, even though the idea of resurrecting the old me makes me want to puke. But, I don’t like sitting and doing nothing. I never have. I have been restless ever since the summer of 2018, though I know the reason why. I don’t like to think on it for too long, because makes me angry. I tend to hurt things when I’m angry. Being a Heavy isn’t always roses and fresh-washed pussy.

As you might have ascertained by now, I’m not a role model or even a particularly good person at that. I’ve done so many bad things over the course of my long life. I don’t have the time to numerate them here. I'd bore you to death and you'd throw this tomb aside in frustration. It is suffice to say, I am crass, uncouth and insatiable. And, I’m not – in the least – a nice guy.

What can I say?

I am loathed. I am depraved.

So, if you are squeamish or covetous of your religious beliefs or offended at the sound of a bodacious fart, I beseech you – STOP HERE!

You will not feel pleased or enlightened by what I’m about to put to pen (or Neuro-Nanoswarm, whatever you prefer). The things you will read, though based within the solid foundation of truth, will offend.

You see, I have no intention of sugar-coating any aspect of my past. Lying or glossing over events would defeat the purpose of this mental exercise. Herein, you will confront such subjects as teen sex, teen drug-use, incest, addiction, group sex, murder, rape and child abuse, genocide, prostitution, molestation and countless other horrid conditions of the human experience. I have lived through them all. I have experienced more than a few and held others under similar yokes. Many of them, I have made my slaves.

This most likely will not please you.

Yet, if you have the heart and the bravery necessary to broche these topics, then I say to you, reader of my story, continue. Learn what has gone before, during the lifetime of Estefan Ernando. He is me. And, I was, at one time, a careless, rich kid. I had too much time on my hands, too much money in my pocket and too many little girls vying for a swing on my jock.

I told you. This tale is not for the timid.

*****

Much has happened since the heady days of my youth, a whole barrage of historical events many of you may not recall in detail did in fact occur. This is because history is always written by the victors. Or, it is those who have the most to gain by hiding as much of the truth as possible do the penning of it.

Since I am of neither group, I will give you the benefit of reality. But I’m not going to sit here and lecture this point or that like some university professor.

You can hire an Infro-Bot for that shit.

Rather, I’m going to give you a list of highlights. These will detail the most important events that occurred from the first days of my birth until the summer of 2018.

This was when the shit hit the fan and, it seemed like the entire world tipped on its’ ear.

Below is a brief historical timeline of the correct past.

Don’t be too alarmed by what you might learn. You should recall knowledge is power.

What I’m about to give you can free you of the shackles of your past; because they aren’t real… someone else manufactured them for you.

*****

The Historical Definition of the Shadow Seed

As Recalled By, Estefan Ernando

~ Keeper of the Peace ~

Nov. 1998 – Amateur Australian Astronomer, Frank B. Zoltowski, creates a computer program that can guide electronically controlled telescopes automatically. This makes it much easier for astronomers to track celestial objects in the sky. He calls it CCDTRACK.

Dec. 1998 – A side benefit of CCDTRAK discovered – Astronomers unveil that the software program can track the movement of a given body and with time eventually plot the objects trajectory.

January 13th, 1999 – Using the Linear Telescope Survey and CCDTRACK Software, Mr. Zoltowski discovers that asteroid 1999AN10 has a 1:40,000 chance of striking the earth on August 7th, 2027. Later calculations push the change much higher, but the world’s interest is peeked as the search for other rogue celestial doubles. The funding of such projects quadruples.

Oct. 2001 – The LTS (Linear Telescope Survey) discovers Comet2001ct2 and CCDTRACK determines that the huge ball of ice will pass earth within the orbits of the GPS Constellation on July 17th, 2015.

Dec. 2007 – NASA, using improved tracking software, is able to recalculate that Comet2011ct2 will not pass by earth; rather it will strike earth over the Pacific Ocean on October 29th, 2014. This news is not shared with the public and the entire project is militarized.

Sept. 2008 – Feb. 2009 – The government of the United States of America deliberately sabotages its own economy. It issues two enormous “stimulus” packages to counter the so-called economic crisis, effectively covering up a massive space-based mobilization.

June 2011 – NASA shuts its’ own publically acclaimed Space Shuttle Program, while it secretly initiates Operation Global Shield with new Spacecraft, using multiple forms of propulsion. The age of the Solid rocket booster comes to an end.

August 2011 – Russia deliberately crashed its own resupply jet carrying provisions for the International Space Station and halts all publically acknowledged space activity, formally entering into Operation Global Shield along with China, Japan, India, the European Union and the United States of America. The International Space Station is abandoned the following month.

March 2nd, 2012 – Amateur Astronomer, Jessie Montgomery of Montana, spots Comete2001ct2 and reports his findings to college professor. Word explodes around the world that the comet is on a collision course with earth and with hit in the summer of 2014.

Apr. 2012 – The United States withdraws from Iraq and Afghanistan within a week, leaving chaos in its wake.

Summer 2012 – Civil war breaks out in seventeen African countries.

July 2012 – Iran invades Iraq and takes control of the country within two months and unites both countries under one flag and calls itself the Islamic Confederation and vows to destroy Israel.

Oct. 2012 – Brazil goes public when it is denied inclusion into Operation Global Shield.

Nov. 2012 – Mexicans overwhelm U.S. Border Patrol all along the border as nearly four million illegal’s cross into the U.S.

Dec. 2012 – Feb. 2013 – The Islamic Confederationinvades a war torn and weakened Syria and obliterates all democratic resistance. The world does nothing more than slap the newly formed country with sanctions. All eyes are still looking skyward.

Mar. 2013 – In North Korea, famine spreads across the entire country as China stops sending oil and other aid.

Mar. 2013 – Israel vows unilateral action (nuclear weapons not ruled out) if the Islamic Confederation does not withdraw from Syria by June 1st, 2013.

Apr. 2013 – Members of the Global Shield sign formal treaties of peace and economic unity as they form the Northern Intercontinental Alliance, incorporating NATO and the militaries of India, China and Russia into its military wing. The Northern Intercontinental Alliance declares that any further aggression by any foreign power against any sovereign nation will result in invasion by the NIA.

May 2013 – The Islamic Confederation begins troop build-up along its border with Jordan. Israel reiterates its unilateral position, while the NIA mandates that retaliation with be swift and thorough.

June 2013 – The Islamic Confederation does not withdraw from Syria, but does pull back its troops and says it will no longer be an aggressor, but will be open to any nation of Islam that wishes to come under its protection. NIA places Peacekeepers in Jordan at the request of UN.

Sept. 2013 – At a joint British Petroleum and Exxon Mobile press conference, the companies unveil a deep drilling research operation project that has discovered a new element. They call it, Diatainium. It lies at the edge of the earth’s crust very near the Mohorovičić Discontinuity (or simply called, the MOHO). This comprises the uppermost reaches of the Mantle and lies at an average depth of 7 km (4.3 miles) beneath the ocean floors, and 30 to 75 km (18 to 46 miles) beneath the continental surfaces. They have determined that Diatainium can be smelted into a super-strong, radiation resistant metal and be used as an energy source as well. When its atoms are smashed together within the Hadron Collider at ultra-high speed, they produce a huge amount of energy at nearly 0.1 of a kWt per atom. This has given the NIA an unlimited power source.

Oct. 2013 – OPEC dissolves.

Nov. 2013 – NIA announces that it had made a super-high yield Diatainium infused Fission Bomb that it will use to destroy Comtet2001ct2.

Feb. 2014 – Saudi Arabia seeks entrance into the Islamic Confederation, which causes a windfall and within months. Qatar, Oman, Kuwait and Dubai follow suit.

Apr. 2014 – North Korea, pushed to the brink, asks South Korea for a formal ceasefire and truce, coupled with a new Free Trade Agreement.

May 2014 – Jordan and Afghanistan seek entry into the Islamic Confederation.

June 2014 – Israel granted entry into the NIA.

July 15th, 2014 – The NIA’s stockpile of Diatainium Fission Bombs successfully explodes Comet2001ct2, which falls to earth in a shower of a million, million microscopic fragments. (In Later Days, this event is termed: The Shadow Seed)

Aug. 2014 – With the threat of the Comet gone the NIA solidifies into a more permanent organization by unifying economic ties between North America, Europe, Asia and Indo/Australia. The planet-wide government designates them its four Regional Zones.

Oct. 2014 – The United Korean Peoples Republic emerges from the ashes of war and famine and immediately seeks aid form the NIA and gets it.

Nov. 2015 - A new, heretofore unknown disease begins to surface in just about every corner of the world.

Dec. 2015 – By the end of the year chaos rages across Africa once again as civil and regional wars erupt across Indochina.

June 2017 - The NIA revamps its charter to include an overarching paramilitary component with unlimited jurisdiction within the borders of its’ chartered members. China, India and Australia object to the draconian change, and drop from full membership to that of associated members with strong economic ties. The true Northern Intercontinental Alliance if formulated, which includes the U.S., Canada, Mexico, Britain, Japan, Israel, the Nations of the old European Union and Russia. It designates its’ world-wide capital at Houston, Texas and with regional capitals in Moscow, Paris and Tokyo. The NIA gives favored nation status to its former members – China, India and Australia - to keep trade strong. The NIA then declares war against this new disease by combining the CDC with all of its member nation’s medicinal assets. The World Health Organization is crippled by a 72% drop in funding.

Since June 2017 – The Disease continues to grow, unabated, but it’s what it leaves in its wake that begins to change the world… The NIA, desperate to get an upper hand and begins to resort to ever more drastic measures to eradicate it form the face of the earth.

*****

Now, with your history lesson over, you can begin to understand the setting within which we lived in the summer of 2018.

But, if you really wanted to know the true beginning of this story, I will have to begin in the proper place. I will have to begin many years earlier, and not with myself.

It began with a girl. She was rambunctious little rebel, who, from the first day I met her, stole my heart. I think it was because she loved to get into trouble.

Boy did she ever!

It was like a hobby to her. She excelled at it.

Yes! If you want to know the true beginning of this story, then I will have to tell you the story of her - Katie Lorraine Chaz.

She was the first love of my life.

*****

[His fingers dip to touch the Intrusion Dial. He finds himself sinking deeper into his own mind. The software is amazing. Fuzzy reflections solidify, become tangible. He is ready. His fingers fly. The words form.]

Katie Lorraine Chaz, from the moment she hit puberty became something of a wild child. It was like the budding of her breasts into something more than just tiny bumps on her flat chest made her go crazy.

This was sort of expected, though. Even at an early age, she was promiscuous and talked dirty all the time. Every other thing she said was “eat my pussy this” and “eat my pussy that”. She said this, mind you, way before any of us knew what it meant to “eat pussy”.

She had no doubt heard it from one of her older siblings, who were, at the time, already in their middle teens. It was well known even to us younger kids that her oldest sister had an active sex life. She already had one abortion by the time she was fifteen. So, I guess they should take some of the blame on one level or another.

Although, I’m not sure what Katie was thinking when she said things like that. But, I was a curious little scamp. I often wondered if she did want someone between her little, tweenie labia’s slurping up the juice. She could say it so dirty sometimes. I remember getting semi-hard every time she uttered such nasty things in her child-like voice. Her eyes were so direct.

You see, I was born a pervert. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Back then, Katie had light brown, wavy hair. It was thin and wafted in the play of the wind. She didn’t have the synthetic shit she has implanted upon her scalp today. The sort that was capable of changing color on a whim. She was much more natural in those days…

…Before the hiding and the running.

Anyhow, she had wispy hair and a light complexion, harboring good skin. Even through the hormonal ravages of her teen years, she never developed a whole lot of pimples or blemishes on her face. She was more on the small side when compared to other girls her age. But, she was medium-sized when compared to the females of her family. She was thin and well-proportioned even as a child. When womanhood descended upon her, Katie’s hips formed real nice and her butt rounded. She transformed from a girl to something I could not look away from.

Back then, to me, the most desirable feature about her was her breasts. They were perky, a large “b-cup” or a small “c”, depending on the designer of the bras and clothes she wore. They pointed upward and firm, rounded along the bottom. In my eyes, they were perfect, just enough to fill your hand and not waste a single bit of that spongy flesh. At least that’s how I imagined they would feel like.

She had big hazel-colored eyes and a long thin nose that tapered to a point. It was almost as if she had plastic surgery inside her mother’s womb. Her face was more angular than broad, her cheekbones set high on her face, her chin chiseled to a dainty point. She was beautiful, in every way. Even with her bad mouth and her surly disposition toward anything that reeked of authority, I adored her.

Thus, as she aged and her body changed, Katie went from being flirty and foul-tongued to experimental and eager. She would try anything and everything new. This of course led her down the road to sex, drugs and, unfortunately, to grand theft auto.

(I’m not referring to that god-awful video game franchise of that bygone era either!)

No, this was an action. Through a serious of mind boggling events, this landed her on my doorstep and later in my direct care during the summer of 2018.

This was before the world collapsed around us. Before we found ourselves fugitives from the same government we believed were sworn to protect us.

So fucking naïve!

[He dives deeper.]

Nonetheless, to paint a more precise and exact portrait, I must digress a few more years. I must put aside the colossal forces at work during that summer in ‘18 and explain from whence Katie Lorraine was sprung. From this explanation, you will begin to understand how and why Katie did things the way she did.

Her mother, Giselle Agave, was - coining the phase of an older generation - a knockout. There is no other way to describe the woman, other than to say, she was a stone-cold fox. From the earliest onset of maturing, she attracted men of all ages just about everywhere she went. She was not a particularly smart individual nor did she own much depth of personality or wit or humor. But, she did understand one thing and it was the only thing she ever needed in life. She knew she was beautiful.

Unlike Katie, her mother, Giselle, was taller and longer of leg. She had black hair with just the hint of a bend to it at the top of her shoulders. She had brown eyes and an aquiline face with smooth pink cheeks and a long sweeping, but delicate jaw. She had a thin neck leading to a slender, voluptuous frame, complete with broad hips and impressive breasts.

She was a sight to behold indeed.

In high school, Giselle, not particularly athletic or physical in any way, played the role of the girly-girl. She dressed nice and was impeccable with her grooming at all times. She often she pretended to be afraid of the tiniest little insect or an infinitesimal speck of dirt. Sometimes a modest warming in the weather would illicit alarm. In a flash, there was an awestruck boy willing to assist her during her moment of distress.

Despite their numbers and varying types, she was not a slut. She didn’t sleep around, or at least not a lot. Not once did she take on the whole offensive line of the football team or get caught in your friendly game of “Let’s Gangbang the Drunk Girl”.

I heard, although she did have more than a few boyfriends, she never had more than one at any given time.

Truth told, though, she didn’t care about any of them. Her sights were set on a dashing, debonair, suit-wearing, disco-biscuit named, Ricardo Charon. He was that dude. He was the one who knew all the latest High-Energy dance moves. He twirled on his feet like a Hispanic, pompadour sporting Fred Astaire. He was a fast talker, sly of wit and always seemed to have an ulterior motive. This he concealed at the corner of his eye when he looked at you, as if he were listening. He gave the impression he was paying attention. But the topic of conversation never seemed foremost in his mind. It was like he was thinking of something else, something hidden and private. It was a creepy sort of gaze, if you caught it at the right moment. It made you wonder if he was thinking about you in ways you’d rather not want to know about.

Anyhow, as was the norm, when Giselle set her mind to something or someone, she almost always got her wish. True to form, she landed Ricardo Charon. This despite he was two years older than her and used to going out with girls closer to his own age.

Now, Ricardo Charon, like Giselle in a way, was only interested in one thing in life and nothing else - Ricardo Charon. He was tall, considering he came from Mexican stock on both sides of his family. He was almost five-foot-ten with jet-black hair. He had a strong square jaw and piercing amber-colored eyes that used to make the cha-cha’s¹ swoon. His wide mouth boasted thin lips, and were a girlie pink. His skin was only a few shades darker than the slightest tanned Caucasian.

He was nice to look at, from the female perspective, as one could imagine. But Ricardo wasn’t interested in any one girl, because deep down, he was certain his destiny would lead him too much more. He desired the dazzle and pomp of the Big Screen. Ricardo wanted to make it big in old Hollywood.

And he wasted little time pursuing it.

It was only a week after he turned eighteen that he filed paperwork and had his name changed to Ricky Chaz. This he did without his parents’ knowledge, which pissed them off something proper.

Within months following graduation from High School, he went to a college for the performing arts to study acting. The only thing he ever cared about.

Of course, thoughts of the glamorous life she would no doubt lead as the off-screen wife of a famous movie star dazzled Giselle. So much so, she made sure their destinies remained concurrent, and begged Ricardo (now Ricky) to go with her to Grad Night. There was a plan set firm in the back of her mind.

Back then, this Right of Passage for High School Graduates consisted of an overnight visit to Disneyland. The trip would provide Giselle with the perfect opportunity to keep Ricky in her life, forever.

After a lot of pleading and convincing Ricky relented to Giselle’s wiles. This most definitely involved a nice, long blowjob and swallow. Still though, he said he would go with her to her last High School event… to his detriment.

It was on the bus ride back to school where she made certain her future would be forever tied to Ricky’s and vice versa. She had bribed her friends to reserve the backmost seat on the bus. Then, she promptly dragged a tired and pliant Ricky to it. Once there, she made him sit down. She had sat down next to him. She unzipped his fly and was quick to get him hard with one of her patented spit-n-palm hand-jobs. In secret, she wriggled out of her panties and, with the grace of a gazelle, sat upon the young man’s lap.

With a gasp of shock, Ricky slipped inside of her.

Giselle writhed like a pro.

Ricky, not about to let this moment go to waste, got with the program and ground his cock into the teenage girl. It didn’t take long and soon he was about to cum. He began to pull out of her.

But, Giselle would have none of it and squeezed his prick tight, as much as she could with her young sugar walls. Now that she had him, she wasn’t about to let him go.

Ricky found he couldn’t resist such a welcoming tightness. He pumped into her, furious like rabbit, for a few more seconds. With wild abandon, he busted his nut deep into the girl’s womb without the regret he should’ve felt.

Giselle, even then, was good enough to make him forget himself. That was just the way she wanted things.

Two months later, Giselle told Ricky she was pregnant. Three months after that they married in a quickie wedding as lavish as Giselle’s parents could afford at the time. This was no more than a nice ceremony at the local Catholic Church and a huge gathering in their backyard.

In the old, faded pictures I have seen as a child, it looked like a fun day. The entire family was in attendance, old and young faces alike, some of which I haven’t seen for a long, long time.

Anyhow, they married and lived with Ricky’s parents for a few years. Then they bought a house in Pasadena, a bit away from both of their families. As Ricky saw it, no hot-shot actor could associate too close with his ethnic past, right? So, a little distance was prudent, if not necessary.

Time passed and Ricky graduated from acting school and spent day after day going to auditions. He landed a few commercial spots, a quaint, but recurring skit at the Egyptian Theatre in Westwood, but not much else.

By then, he and Giselle had two children, Ricky Jr. and Caroline. Giselle, as fertile as ever, was already cooking the third in the oven. It was to be yet another girl, who they decided they would name Marissa when she was born. They also had bills and a mortgage, car notes and credit card payments.

This was about the time it was becoming quite obvious to Giselle, and maybe even moreso to Ricky, that acting might not be the right career. Ricky needed to get his family were it needed to be. Thus, begrudging and chagrined, he made a career change. He got into real estate. It would be a field that he would flourish.

And why not? Just think about it. What better sort of salesman could there be than one who trained as an actor? Jesus H. Christ, he had his clients eating out of his palm on the drive over before they laid eyes on a property. None of them stood a fucking chance against the persuasive will of Ricky Chaz.

At the same time though, there was a distinctive downside to his newfound success. Real Estate made him feel phony. Over time, from that festering sense of falsity, Ricky began to resent those around him. He bled negativity wherever he went.

It got bad.

It wasn’t long before he felt like he couldn’t do anything without telling a lie or bending the truth. His entire life was a lie. He should’ve been an actor, not a realtor. It was Giselle who held him back from his dreams, his impending greatest. He began to rot from the inside out. He took to the bottle to cleanse that putridity in the middle of his gut, which was the inevitable path leading to even darker ones. Soon it was cocaine to stave off the effects of the alcohol, then speed to keep up the pace of his rigorous days… and nights.

By then, he and Giselle were weekly attendees at special “couples only” parties held around town. Anything was the name of the game now. What had started out as experimentation, an attempt to try new things, to spice up their love lives, had become something else. Every time they did it, they liked it more. The separation they welcomed. Until, it became more enjoyable to watch the other screw a stranger, than it was to do the act together. Their passions altered, twisted, as did their marriage. Only the money and sharing their bodies with others seemed to keep them a couple.

For this too, there was a price. It led them down the road to deeper reaches of desolation and destruction. On countless levels, they weren’t prepared for the gulf that grew between them. They possessed too many ill-formed emotions. Neither of them was mature enough to know how to handle a sudden lack of conflicting emotions and desires. Feelings they brazenly expressed with others, but struggled to find within their relationship. The spark had died and was eventually forgotten in the midst of their wild, sexual escapades with people they didn’t know. Their indifference grew, annoyance became to norm. They hallowed out and turned to nothing more than husks of the people they’d once been. They spread malcontent discord to everyone around them. They were like a disease. They were that annoying outbreak of herpes – always surfacing at the wrong time - embarrassing, painful.

[He raises a few levels.]

I know this is a harsh description of people none of you know. But, it is the truth. We should never shy from the truth.

Besides, they were cancerous.

[He dips back down.]

Born into this twisted, feral free-for-all was Katie Lorraine Chaz. It was the climate she that almost doomed her. And like her older siblings, it affected her on many levels. So many, in fact, it would take forever to point them out here.

It’s safe to say, she was irrevocably damaged by them. It also didn’t help that her father would scream at her when she brought home bad grades. He would yell that she would never amount to anything in life. To him, she was stupid and brainless.

One of the last things, he had told her, before she had run away and came hurtling back into my life, was she would never amount to anything. She would become nothing more than a cock hungry whore like her mother. One day, he prophesized, she would wake-up to find two dicks up her ass. This act alone would be the pinnacle of her life’s accomplishments. It would be the highlight of her pathetic existence in this world.

She had screamed at him to fuck off.

He had slapped her hard across the face.

She had fallen to the ground in a heap.

At that point, there was little else to do, but run away and she did. All because she’d come home two hours late that night. It was the beginning of the end between Katie and her parents. They would never again live in the same house together.

I could see why Katie wanted to get away. I understood why she wanted to lose herself in drugs or in the pleasures of the body. She wanted to hang around people who talked nice to her, even if they were faking it, because, to her, at least they were making an effort. This was more than either of her parents had ever given her. I understood the anguish and self-loathing she sometimes felt. I had felt something similar with my biological father as well.

That though was a milder tale, not even close to the severity of what Katie had to live through. My father was just a skinny, immature sack of dried up shit. There were no bones about it.

Still, because of his demeaning diatribes, one could say, in the least, I got the gist of some of what Katie had gone through. I understood some of the truth of her life and what it was doing to her. I think that’s why I could always read Katie so well. Because of our tiny connection, she was an open book to me most of the time.

Anyhow, by the time, Katie jumped into the front seat of that stolen car and got herself into a heap of trouble, she was living in another state. Her family had moved from Pasadena to Glendora a decade earlier. Then, they moved to Corona a couple of years later. After that, it was a move to Temecula, almost five years ago.

Ricky believed it was critical to get his family out of the urban sprawl of Los Angeles. The city was corrupting his children right before his eyes.

Of course, there was no telling him, he was the root cause of their anguish. In his mind, he could do no wrong.

Thus, he did what all raging alcoholics would do, the inconceivable, and moved his entire family to Oklahoma City. This was after a brief stay in the Inland Empire. Under the guise of a fabricated real estate boom in the OKC, he yelled to the heavens above, “I will not pass up this opportunity!” He couldn’t let it go untapped by his family. He could make a fortune by god!

By moving his five, floundering children to a boring, regional town, the effect was the exact opposite of the one he’d envisioned. With one-tenth the ‘things-to-do” when compared to Los Angeles, it changed them all for the worst.

The boys became inverted. Katie’s oldest brother, Ricky Jr. had thrown himself into running long distances. Somewhere in that mix, he stopped talking. He preferred solitude to the company of his family. Her baby brother James stayed in his room reading comics and novels at all hours of the day. He seemed incapable of relating to anything real. Cartoons and drawn characters were all he could fathom. All else was too confusing, too painful to endure.

The girls… well, they did whatever the fuck they wanted. And there was none worse than Katie.

Caroline, Katie’s oldest sister, was the spitting image of her mother. She was gorgeous, leggy, a man magnet. Unlike her mother, she was conniving and avaricious. She was a true ball-busting bitch that made sure her men knew she was in charge. The rumor was this extended to the bedroom as well, but I was never certain.

Strange enough though, Caroline did display a degree of restraint and only dabbled in drugs. Her preferences were the more carnal pleasures than psychedelics. She never went down that road toward inevitable implosion. She did enough though to hurt herself in other ways.

She was self-centered and quite able of forcing herself to not give a shit about any of her family members. She had an uncanny ability of tuning them out. She’d flip on MTV or jump on Facebook or listen to her MP3 player and ignore the lot of them. By the time Katie had run away, Caroline had gone through many boyfriends, four abortions and was as hard as stone. She was as cold as stone too.

Marissa, Katie’s sister who was only a year older than her, was a female reflection of her father. She was light-skinned, had black hair, was thinner and, shorter than her two other sisters. She was more docile by nature and tended to talk quiet and slow, making sure you understood what she was saying. She was an unassuming girl, who got below average grades, liked boys, but not enough to fuck them. She only smoked pot, but even then, she only partook on occasion.

What Marissa did do though was simple. She stayed away. She was more than adept at finding parties to attend or boys to ask her out on a date. She was always at a friend’s house, having dinner, staying overnight. She shunned her home all the time. She loathed watching constant ridicule her father pummeled onto her mother. Witness, as her mother swallowed every insult. She was sick of seeing her father sopping drunk. She had grown tired of seeing him sprawled unconscious in the hallway. She despised the look of his fat ass-crack showing over his overworked bikini briefs. She stayed away. She longed for the old day. Before the money her father was making had messed everything up, before mangling her childhood.

It was Katie, as you might have guessed, who turned out to be the most self-destructive. It was Katie who stole from her Dad’s stash of cocaine. She snatched his uppers, his downers and his genetically enhanced marijuana. She took just about everything his stupid, drunk ass left out or hadn’t bolted down or locked behind a vault. It was Katie who took the most risks. It was Katie who cared the least.

It was Katie who had run away.

And that’s what led up to the summer in 2018 when Katie had run from her father’s rage and contempt. This was the night she had texted her latest fuck-buddy, a loser dude named Chad Bennings. She told him she was running away. She had typed her message in typical Katie fashion. If you wanna keep fucking this pussy, you better come and get me!

Chad had showed up at the park where all the teenagers hung out, where Katie was waiting. It was dark by then. The park had been empty for hours.

Katie’s cheek was still stung from where her father had struck her. After he’d foretold of her dual-butt fucking future, after she had screamed at him to fuck off.

It had been almost three in the morning when Chad had asked what was up and Katie replied with simple words, “Take me away.”

He wanted to keep his desperate girlfriend happy. Thus, he had done what every able-bodied stoner would do when they don’t own a vehicle of their own - he stole one.

Yeah, I know fucking brilliant.

He had come back with the car, picked her up at the park and said to her, “Baby, I will take you wherever you want to go. But first, we need some supplies.”

Katie had nodded, not even looking at him. She wasn’t even all that surprised when the above mentioned “supplies” included picking up a few others. Soon his cousin Mike, his skanky-looking baby-mama and one of Chad’s other friends filed into the car.

This last guy Katie only mentioned, but never said his name. Or maybe she had and I just forgot it.

Once their posse formed in full, they had made a pit stop at the same convenient store Chad had boosted the car from a few hours earlier. They bought a shit load of junk food in the process and were finally on their way.

Of course, by now an APB and this indeed called for their arrest. You see, the clerk behind the counter had now watched his car drive away… for a second time that night.

It’s funny how even a part-time clerk can sometimes have a photographic memory, isn’t it?

As it was, Katie had told Chad, while they pulled away with the now infamous shit load of junk food that she wanted to go to California. To be precise, she told him, “I need to go to Los Angeles.”

She had told the idiot she wanted to see the ocean again.

Chad had given her a big kiss and said her wish was his command and off they went into the starry night.

My mother, Patrice, got a call two days later. It became obvious that Chad had crashed the car on Interstate 10 just outside of Palm Spring. This was after a California Highway Patrol officer noticed its’ five passengers fit the ABP and had run the plates of the car. When it had come back a positive match, a short car chase ensued. It was about fifteen miles long from what the CHP officer had written in his report. Back then, a chase like this, we would've considered an afternoon stroll in Southern California. This had been a part of the old United States notorious for high-speed pursuits. Some of them went on for hundreds and hundreds of miles and lasted hours.

Giselle had asked my mother if she could drive to Palm Springs and pick up her daughter for her.

My mother had agreed at once.

Then Giselle asked my mother - and this always made me wonder – if our family could take care of Katie for a few months. At least until her and Ricky could figure out some things.

Now, when I look back at it, I think Katie’s actions were the straw that broke the “camel’s back” in their marriage. I think they needed time, without Katie distracting them. They had to figure out how they were going to divide Ricky’s the multi-million dollar real estate business. They need to know who was going to live with whom.

I believe this, because things between them were never quite the same with them after those last few months of 2018. Even though Katie never went back to live with them, they were forever changed, especially in those last few weeks.

I know they felt Katie was too much of a nuisance. I know they felt like they needed time to figure out how they were going to handle her. But I also believed they secretly hoped my mother and father, our family, could help Katie in some small way.

Since none of my brothers or sisters had found themselves any in any sort of serious trouble. No one was pregnant or got anyone pregnant. In our family, we had no serious druggies or anyone in trouble with the police. We all managed to get decent grades in school, despite being well-off and more than a little spoiled.

In truth, I think I was the only one who did anything remotely off the beaten path. Back then, I did smoke pot here and there, usually garnered from my crazy cousin Jacob. But, I didn’t do it for the high itself, mind you.

Rather, I liked to wank-off when I was on the edge of being high. My orgasms blasted through me like a geyser whenever I was under the influence of marijuana. It was my practice to toke-up at night, all by myself, just like Green Day sang about. Then, I would watch some porn. I would get nice and hard, and jerk-off like a motherfucker. I always got the biggest hard-ons and came with the thunder. Yeah… I was born a pervert.

Well, anyhow, my mother had agreed to take Katie in for the entire summer and made plans to go bail her out of jail. She had planned to leave within the hour.

It was a bright, late May morning when she pulled me aside just before I was about to head out for school. She said she was about to go get Katie. She asked me if I felt I was responsible enough to help Katie, to show her around and make her feel at home. She told me Katie was going to be living with us for a spell and she was going to have to count on me to help keep the girl under control.

I remember smiling, broad while I nodded, telling my mother she could count on me. All the while, I kept thinking about the last time I had seen Katie. It had been the year before. The personal question Katie had asked had rung in my ears for the past ten months and still, I couldn’t shake free of it.

Ten months prior, the world had been more normal. This was right at the initiation of the Northern Intercontinental Alliance’s declaration of war on genetics. This was before the disappearances first began, when the public executions had yet to start. The mass slaughter of people had yet to come, but the Shadow Seed had. Already, it had begun to wreak havoc upon the human population all across the globe. This was before we began to change as well.

All that was commonplace now, but it didn’t stop the fact that Katie’s question still burned in my mind all this time later. I needed to know.

I looked my mother straight in the eye and said I would help Katie in any way possible. Inside, I couldn’t wait to see her again. Maybe this time, we could finish what I think would’ve been something super, super special.

{ ¹Cha Cha’s: a female, generally of Latino descent, who goes and socializes with club-going, drug-using crowd. They are said to dramatically gossip about everything and anything, to anyone, around them. }

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