Fear Empowered

"The military of Japan had been in decline for the last decade following the last machine war. It was due to the hastily made end that was brought to the war that led to the reduction in the military strength. Since the pressure from the US was lifted in the lead up to the first machine war, Japan had been able to increase their strength. However, it left them with little use in the war until the end leaving them to internal security.”

Herbert Stein, Machine Historian -

"Stay away from me! Don't come any closer!" Satoru shouted to those that approached him. He could see it, the malice in their eyes and painted across their faces. 'Their faces…they don't look human anymore…' It was difficult to miss as though they had been taken over by something else only following orders. He knew that wasn’t true, it was fear that was controlling them. However, knowing that didn’t change his situation any.

The one in the business suit strangely enough seemed to be one in charge as he approached out of the crowd. He was holding a long thick rusting metal pipe, not one of the modern thin ones used anymore. If he got hit by it there would be more than just a bruise left behind.

One of the street punks that almost seemed to be tagging along with the others stepped forward. He placed his dirty hand on the businessman's shoulder grabbing his attention as a sly smirk grew across his face. Satoru could see a knife in the kid's hand along with real sharpened metal spikes wrapped around the back of his hand. The ones on his hand were different from the ones that seemed more like decoration elsewhere on his person, these were meant for pain. "Sounds like a machine to me. Whatcha ya think?"

"Yes, the more they try to pretend to be us the more they expose themselves to be fakes," the businessman said with a soft grin. They weren’t approaching Satoru any further, but the hatred that was boiling off them made his legs tense up even more. The friendliness between the two contrasted so creepily that it made Satoru's spine tingle.

"I'm not a machine!" He didn’t know what else to do in a situation like this. His reasons were empty and without emphasis. In the past he had known terrible things like this had happened in the last war, but he had been protected. 'They aren't going to see reason. I need to run.' His legs couldn’t budge though it was the fear. He knew that he was going to die, but it was freezing him rather than giving him flight.

"We've heard that many times," the other punk said, stepping around the two bringing himself closer still to Satoru. A chain in his hand slipped out a little to emphasize his presence. The metal linked chain was wrapped around his hand and draped over his shoulder and chest. It was the ends in a loose loop in his palms that were rattling over the cement.

"Yea, ya machines are all alike," the first punk said, joining his partner or friend. It was hard to determine how each of these individuals knew each other. In a normal reality none of them would be associated with the other. "All of ya are tryin’ to steal our lives from us!"

"You can't be serious…why would they want to be human?" Satoru tried to defend himself to them. He could see how blinded that they were by their hate that they were never going to see reason. However, even still he had to try to buy himself time until he could attempt to escape. If he kept them talking something might happen, he hoped, that would free him from this trap. It seemed like a futile wish, but if it worked it would mean living and that was all that was important no matter how futile it was.

"For the same reason anyone does," the businessman said, approaching Satoru one step closer. He started to take control of the conversation again, seeing that the punks wouldn’t be able to carry on the debate that Satoru was putting forward. "The have-nots want what the haves have."

Satoru wanted to turn away and run while it seemed that there was a break in their unity. However, his legs were still protesting, too frozen to move from the ground that they had become accustomed to. "But you're assuming that they have the same desires as us!" Satoru couldn’t believe that they would think that the machines needed what everyone else had. The machines didn’t have the same needs as humans, they were made to be above the desires of greed and jealousy. It would be against what they were originally made for to just simply become a replacement of humans in every way.

"They are pretending to be humans, what more proof you need that they want to be us!" the punk that was cut off said not wanting to be left out of the conversation. The others were joining up behind him gathering closer. Each volley made them inch a little closer to Satoru.

"We made them in our image!" Satoru said, trying to point out the obvious to them. The machines didn’t make themselves human, it was the scientists that did that.

"No! You are trying to take our lives!" the middle-aged woman said her eyes betrayed her emotions. The statement made Satoru nearly fall backwards. It was clearly directed at him with such venomous hatred that he had never felt before. He knew that they thought he was a machine and hated them, but it was never so precisely aimed at him until now. "You want what we have, our land, our food and our homes! It is so clear. And clear that you’re one of them!"

"But I'm not, can't you see that?" Satoru was running out of time as they moved another step closer. The crying rants of the woman were quickly losing any ground that Satoru had in holding them back. The dull expanding feeling of desperation was rising through him again seeing his death approaching. 'Run! Run! I-I can't move…why aren't my legs moving.' Satoru's fists pounded on his sides as his eyes darted around the dark street feeling the sweat start to drip down his face.

"Enough stalling, time to see what you spill!" the second punk said tired of the prolonged dialogue. He started to spin his chain around quickly, the whirling crawled through the air creating a void for Satoru's strength to be pulled towards. The first punk agreed with him tightening his grip on the handle of the long knife allowing it to catch the light revealing its clean and polished appearance, as though great care was taken in its maintenance. The middle-aged woman followed suit and surprisingly drew a small handgun. The fifth mysterious member, a young man of college age, was hanging back watching the others.

Satoru leaned back on his stubborn legs holding his arms out trying to wave them back knowing that it was going to fail. "Please, you don't-"

"Don't move and this will be over QUICKLY!" the businessman said coming in with his pipe swinging at Satoru.

The pipe came across Satoru, but he finally found his legs and fell backwards on his own weight in time to avoid being bludgeoned. 'They really are going to kill me!' Satoru's entire body was trembling as he saw the bloody stare of the businessman standing over him. His legs scraped against the ground trying to get him moving, feeling the paralyzing fear encompass him further. 'Run! Now!'

"Yer just delaying it," one of the punks said, slowly approaching to join the businessman that got in an early swing. The businessman looked at the others, motioning them into direction, having them surround Satoru to prevent him from escaping. The way that they were operating made it apparent that this wasn’t the first time. Satoru wasn’t certain before from their talk, as talk could have just been talk, but now he was positive. "This won't hurt ya, machine!"

"Stop this, it's madness!" Satoru shouted pleading to them for the nightmare to end. It was then that he finally felt his legs for the first time. The ground found traction and he was thrown up from the hard cold cement to avoid another swing of the pipe. "I'm not a machine!" His words fell on deaf ears, but he hoped that it might change things anyway as he ran away from them.

"We've heard it all before, machine!"

"You can't escape, machine! Only the guilty run." The middle-aged woman appeared in front of him blocking his path with the gun aimed straight in his face. Satoru had barely the time to stop before he would have fallen on top of her. He quickly backed up looking around at them closing in on him with the street growing smaller each moment.

'Morons, even the innocent run when fearing for their life.' Satoru saw a gap in the buildings just in reach of the oncoming shadows and took his chance. The buildings were only a few floors high and had plenty of room in the alley for Satoru. In spite of its dark foreboding atmosphere it seemed far more welcoming then where he had been.

"Where ya think you are running, machine?" the second punk said, showing up as a looming shadow in the exit of the alley. The light at the end that had been imagined freeing him was dimming away from his eyes. The young kid was swinging around the chain furthering the length making it slam against the cement. Long painfully drawn out scraps and clawing of the chain rolling over the bricks of the building towards Satoru weakening his body's resolve again.

"No where to run now. Your imitation of fear is quite good, machine. They're making them better these days." The chain of the kid's was inching closer to him as he walked forward into the darkness to join Satoru. Satoru stepped backwards cautiously looking around seeing that his other exit, the way he came, was blocked as well.

'Cornered…my fear is real idiots.' Satoru pulled in his lower lip biting trying to figure out how long of his life was left. He had no escape anymore with them covering both sides of the alley. All he could hope was that they might see he was actually a human being before they killed him. However, there was a slim chance of that happening from the feelings he was getting off of them.

"Now come here and take what's coming to ya!"

'Can't get out of the way…' The knife from the first punk came at him wide, almost missing him completely, but the near miss was enough to draw blood. Satoru could feel the air pouring in against his wound as blood slowly dripped down his shoulder. The cloth around his cut slowly began to absorb up the blood spreading through quickly to expand the red glow.

"You missed him," the second punk said, breaking his rhythm in swinging the chain around.

"I can see that!"

The moment of argument and wide swing left him with an opening to trying to break through. He ran for freedom as hard as his legs could, but the businessman was quick to grab him by his shirt and throw him backwards against the ground. Satoru's back painfully slammed against the cement knocking the wind out of him.

It was the middle-aged woman that tried to bring some sanity into the fight for which was otherwise a foreign concept. "Look he is bleeding," she said pointing to Satoru with her gun. It was still unnerving seeing the gun pointed at him even though it looked that for the moment he wasn’t being threatened by it.

"Doesn't mean anything, they could just have red oil in them," the first punk said, waving his arm widely as though to cut her words down before sanity had a chance to spread. He didn’t want the infection to spread any further. "Need to go deeper." The kid glared at Satoru with deep malice that eclipsed everything that he had seen thus far from them.

"But what if he isn't."

"We won't know until we try."

"That's right, doesn't mean anything," she said, nodding in agreement with them. Her moment of wavering was over. The minor stall in their plans was averted and left them all facing Satoru once again.

"Exactly!" The second punk resumed spinning his chain at the speed it had been before. This time he was close enough that Satoru could feel the air that was being created from the moving metal. It was a taste of his approaching peril.

Satoru was dumbfounded by the single-mindedness. 'They're insane! They're blinded completely by their desire to find machines in each corner of the world to satisfy their paranoia.' There was a moment of sanity for them to see things clearly, but they just smashed it to pieces. Satoru felt the fear multiplying in his veins making his blood run cold. The sweat pouring down his face went by unnoticed as the gang of people drew in for the kill.

As they moved close to him Satoru tried to stand up hoping that he could find a way out. The pipe came swinging at him this time missing him, but not without being followed up by the chain from the punk. The mass of metal slapped him across the face, knocking him to the ground again and spraying blood over the businessman's suit.

"One more and we'll see what you are machine!" The businessman raised the pipe high over his head letting the faint streetlight dimly glow at the tip. Everyone else stood around waiting for the blow to connect, preventing an escape for Satoru.

Satoru closed his eyes at the inevitability that stood before him with dark eyes. He couldn’t look anymore feeling the panic shaking through his bones at the coming pain he was going to feel. Any amount of hope that he had for escape was stamped out by the legs of the people standing around him. 'I don't believe it. After all of this, nearly dying in a bombing and machines attacking everywhere it is going to be paranoid humans that kill me. This can't be how it ends…'

"Satoru!" a voice in the distance shouted with a familiar tone. It was enough to delay things for Satoru as everyone turned to see who was calling out.