Persona Non Grata — Part 1

There was a loud, rapid banging on the cellar door.

“Get up, sleepyhead,” Willie rebuffed. “When we open the door, I want your hands to be interlocked and behind your head. Rudolph, on my signal, open it slowly.” He gripped his gun and aimed it at the cellar door. “Ready? Now.”

The door slowly creaked open. The dim lightbulb was still buzzing and blinking, the shelves appeared untouched, and Albert was kneeling on the cold, bleak cellar floor with his hands interlocked behind his head.

The shelter was extremely quiet. Once they were given the go-ahead, the inhabitants gathered their possessions and scrambled out of the room. The copious amounts of clothing had disappeared. The bulky briefcases full of memories vanished. The creaky cots were disassembled. The bristly blankets were neatly folded.

In addition to Rudolph and Willie, there were six men and women arranged in a semicircle around the door, the barrels of their guns pointing straight at Albert's head, chest, and legs. They were all wearing the same outfit: a jade-green camouflage uniform, tangerine vests, and neon orange high-visibility vests with the phrase Department of Domestic Disturbances written in bold lettering.

“Your little savior over there called in a Sanitation crew last night," Willie gloated. You like that—”

A soldier raised his hand and interrupted, “We’ll take it from here. You can put your gun away now, sir.”

Willie scowled at the soldier but ended up holstering his gun anyways.

Another soldier said to Albert, “Keep your hands behind your head and get down on your knees, sir.” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

Three other soldiers started to close in on Albert when he suddenly lunged forward at Willie.

“You bastard!” Albert shouted. He swung with his right arm at the old man with one special item in his hand: a pair of razor-sharp scissors. He was about to make contact with Willie’s neck when he suddenly felt a large amount of electricity flow through his entire body. He felt it again. And again.

He let out a bloodcurdling scream, arched backwards, and crumpled to the floor as if he was an animal being put down. He tried to push off the ground with both of his hands, but was pinned down by another round of electricity. His body was uncontrollably spasming. His regular breathing turned into heavy wheezing.

“Restrain him immediately,” one of the soldiers shouted.

“Got it.”

“Gibbs, when we get to the van, get the straitjacket.”

“Got it.”

“You two, carry Albert into the van.”

““Got it.””

***

The commotion from the previous night left the neighborhood with more questions than answers, more gossip than work done.

"Annie, is the boy actually an Imitation?" a lady muttered.

"I think he is, Julie," she loudly replied as she inspected her cherry-red lips in a small, circular pocket mirror. "I mean I'm not surprised. The government has been doing a poor job letting those Imitations run amok lately."

Annie swatted Julie. "Tsk. Don't say that. You don't know who might be listening in..."

"But Annie, you should have seen his face when Willie was asking him all of those questions. Poor boy was petrified," another woman cackled. "If he an Imitation, he's a defective one, that's for sure."

"Oh, looks like they're taking him away."

Jade-green men and women emerged from the shelter, carrying with them a man with his hands and legs shackled together. The convoy the soldiers arrived in consisted of three vehicles: two black Chevrolet Suburbans with tinted windows, jet-black bull-bars on their grills, and tiny police lights under the windshield; and a black Sprinter van inserted between the two cars.

"What do you think will happen to him?"

"The only thing I know is this: the people that are presumed to be Imitations get taken away by the DDD and disappear for good. I mean, a Imitation was captured last month in the apartment complex a few streets down, and I have not heard any news on what happened to it."

"...You're right. Speaking of, what happened to the Stephensons after their parents were arrested?"

"I heard the DDD took them and their possessions. Also, their flat was sold off to another family."

"Really? That's sad; they were a nice family."

"I mean, that's what happens. The moment you get reported to the DDD as an Imitation, your life is over."