Icafia

Chapter by Osmartazzo
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"Eeew, this is so boring..." Mercedes whispered to the person
sitting next to her. He made no response, so she faced him and poked
him lightly in the shoulder. His eyes were vacant and
lifeless. "Looks like you emphasize my point quite well."

Three people stood in front of the room, blabbing about random
things. She looked at her watch. 3:30 a.m.!? God, how could anyone
stand this for such a long time? This was like being in a sick kind
of time warp. Mercedes never thought that her hard of hearing could
actually come in handy. She pulled out her hearing aid and shoved it
in her pocket. She half listened, then interjected,

"Did you say CORN FLAKES?"

One of the people in the front scowled and replied, "We said... 'we
are the top goddesses; no one can compare to us!' What the hell is
your problem? Do you need a hearing aid or something!? This has
probably been the fourth time you misheard us!"

Mercedes bowed her head down. "Well, actually..." Being there was
no fun. When Bebe recommended this place, Mercedes expected dancing
and running amuck in the streets `til the cows came home. But then
again, she always set her hopes a bit too high on life in general;
Bebe was not to blame. "Sorry, I will be on my way then…" She
picked her red coat off of the back of her chair and rose.

"No, you must stay!"

Mercedes muttered under her breath "Your superiority complex bores
the shit out of me." Someone nearby yelled, "DID YOU HEAR WHAT
SHE SAID? SHE SAID YOUR SUPERIORITY COMPLEX IS SHIT!" Mercedes shut
her eyes and sighed. Now who was the one distorting things a bit
incorrectly? What rats.

"Get out of here, bitch!" one leader pointed towards the
exit, "We don't appreciate people who can't embrace how better we
are than everyone else!" People jumped out of their seats and began
to shove on all sides like "The Wall" at a Warped tour. What the
hell was fueling their anger? Having hard of hearing was no big
deal. If Bebe could put up with it, anyone could.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Mercedes sailed through the doorway
and landed on her bum very hard; those "guards" had a death grip
like there was no tomorrow. There were definitely going to be some
bruises down there. She wobbled unsteadily to her feet and shook her
head. She reached into the pocket of her skort (the forecaster said
it was going to be a very windy morning; and even though Mercedes
was dressed nice for the occasion, she wasn't stupid enough to wear
a skirt on such a day) and pulled her hearing aid out. She let out
a whine of despair. It was quite broken, so broken and smashed it
looked like a flesh-colored button. Tiny pieces of wire hung off the
sides. Mercedes shook a fist at the building, "I'll be sending a
medical bill to you soon, asswipes!" She turned and walked towards
her parked car about three blocks away.

{Man, what a night…and morning too.} She looked up at the orange
sky. The wind lifted her hair and made it cover her face. {WHAT THE-
?} Her hands scrambled to pull the tangled hair back, but it was no
use. Some higher being was messing with her luck today. She
couldn't see where she was going and ending up digging the toe of
her boot into a deep pothole. Look like the knees were going to have
some bruises too.

"WHY DO YOU HATE ME, GOD?"

Mercedes sat gingerly on the curb next to the pothole; good thing
she did, for bits of glass and metal lay all over the place. She
didn't remember all of this being here before the meeting; she also
didn't recall dozens of people running amuck and fire trucks and
ambulances parked on every corner…she pulled her hair back into a
ponytail and surveyed the area. Her car WAS parked across the
street, but now it was just a smoking hunk of scrap metal. Her heart
skipped a beat. Then two. Then three.

"My...my...MY NEW FUCKING CAR!!!!!!" Her outburst was silence
among the sounds of chaos on the street. Her body shook and tears
formed in her eyes. She worked damn hard to buy that Jeep. It was
actually a used one, but still…it was her first car, and it really
meant something to her. She slowly stepped over to it and placed a
hand on one car door. She let out a high-pitched "Oh!" and pried a
fallen door off of the passenger's seat. It was still there. Her
glorious railgun was still there. The tears of anger turned to tears
of happiness as she dragged her beloved weapon out. Even Mercedes
sometimes thought herself odd for carrying around such a weapon of
mass destruction, but it was a one in a trillion kind of thing and
it was freaking awesome. "I thought you were a goner too..." She
hefted it onto her shoulders and turned away from the Jeep. "I'm
gonna kick whoever's sorry ass for messing with my car!" As weird
as it was to carry the gun throughout the streets, no one seemed to
care since the array of humanoids were enough of a distraction. She
eyed the ground and saw many droplets of blood leading off for some
distance. {Follow the yellow brick ro-I mean the blood trail.} Some
were already dry, but what bad hearing she had she made up for it in
having sharp eyesight. Much more obvious were the shells of humanoid
bodies strewn about. If Mercedes had a fear for anything, it was
robots. They were like clowns or the monster hiding in the bedroom
closet that children fear.

She stood still and watched the bodies to see if one would stir.
Sure enough, one read her thoughts and turned a head. She took no
time to waste and opened fire on the pathetic piece of crap. They
weren't built well; Mercedes could tell by the way the thing
practically vaporized as it was engulfed in blue flames. Sure, the
railgun was one uber heavy-duty weapon that used any ammo or element
possible, but Mercedes never saw such a thing happen to anything or
anyone in such a manner. She was definitely creeped out by the
surrounding anachronisms. This was the 21st century, not the 31st.
Maybe they are the cause of her dearly loved (and now deceased)
little Jeep's demise. Mercedes' boots stomped over one robot's
head in irritation. "Damn it all; stop scaring me!" She followed
the blood trail in pursuit the bomber. He, she, or it was going to
get a piece of her mind.

Getting by foot was not the best method. The Jeep would have been
perfect, but under the current cirucumstances it was...out of the
running so to say. Mercedes strode quickly, looking left and right
for a car to break into. {Mmm, better not do that.} The gun would
cause so much damage that the unfortunately and potentially stolen
vehicle would be even more misfortunate and have a rather messy
interior. She opted to hop onto a moped parked in front of an early
bird café. Some idiot left the key in; as she gunned what measly
engine the motor "bicycle" had, the owner ran outside and let out
a string of Italian profanities her way.

"Too bad I can't understand your language, mister!" Mercedes
yelled over her shoulder.

{Hot damn, being risqué is kind of fun.}

If only someone were driving the moped for her, she would have an
easier time following the trail; watching for blood and making sure
she didn't ram into a light pole proved to be a bit difficult. By
now the person might be long gone, and one can only go so fast on a
moped (only 35 mph, to be exact). Luckily the sun was coming up and
the blood was a vivid crimson against the fading grey pavement.
Mercedes had an inkling she was getting closer as the drops appeared
fresher and fresher...