CYBER TERROR WORLD WIDE

A beautiful woman stands, framed by moonlight and a sky full of stars. A great tree stands besides her. She must be some sort of goddess. Her hair is blowing in the wind and a field of grass sways under her.
Thomas Viceroy awoke to the squeal of the city and his alarm clock. The numbers glare back at him through the murkiness of his waking vision. He pulled himself out of bed and began his day. Coffee flows into his mug and he has a morning roll, while watching the news.
None of the news is good. More riots, more laws in passage, more war and the Symbiotic Equality Movement was gaining strength. Oh wait there was good news. Somewhere a woman was using puppies to help people with disabilities learn to read.
His eyes are blood shot and he is obviously care worn. He reaches into his pocket and produces a bottle of pills, pouring a few into his mouth. And walks out the door.
Walking down the street, his street, he notices all that passes him. He has lived here for years, but somehow the neighborhood has changed around him. Things have changed. Homeless people, prostitutes and hustlers are all over the place, lurking in the shadows, on the corners, and on the stoops. As he walks he remembers how it was…families, children, people coming and going to and from work.
“It all changed with that fucking slug.” He says to himself
A man carrying vials with slugs inside them approaches him. The slugs squirm and pulsate in their vials.
“Hey Bro I got slugs here, they can do anything you want. Make you stronger, faster, smarter, dick bigger, cure your acne, you fucking name it I got a slug that will do what you want.” The hustler says.
“Get the fuck out of my face.” He says and slaps one of the vials to the ground and steps on it.
Arriving at work he begins his working day. Pouring molten steel and welding.
He walks back home through the same poisoned streets. The hustlers and other street denizens looking more sinister in the failing evening light.
Back at home he bolts the door and sighs. The television is soon back on and he is watching as evidence of the end of the world pours into his living room through the television.
All the major religions of the world now endorse using the slug as a means of attaining instant enlightenment. The president has a slug that helps “keep him organized” Parents are allowed to use the slug as a means of controlling willful children. Prisons and jails are using the organism as a means to control the inmates.
Exhausted and disheartened Viceroy collapses into bed.
In his sleep she visits him again. She is reaching out to him.
Again he wakes to the alarm clock and the angry sounds of the city. His morning routine: Coffee. Breakfast Roll. Clothes. Pills.
Walking to work he sees the filth of the city again. All the people on the street are acting stranger than usual. Some of them are vomiting. Others are wandering around looking more like zombies than usual. A tentacle can be seen popping out of people mouths, ears, noses or other orifices.
He sees a little girl being dragged by her parents to an “inoculation center”. She is dragged right in front of him. She is crying and looks up at him.
“…help me” she says to him as she is dragged by.
At work he is haunted by the little girl’s last words too him. His coworkers seem different…
Walking home he is confronted by the girl and her family again. This time they are all different. They approach him and try to force him to the ground. The little girl produces an organism. They are clearly planning to inoculate him with the organism. He fights them off with a brick.
Panting he looks at the results of his violence and whirls around at the sound of a siren and police yelling. He runs to his apartment, bars the door and pours all his pills in his mouth.
He collapses into bed and falls into a deep sleep.
She comes again to him in his sleep. She looks worried and hunted. The tree is sick and dying. Her face and the face of the little girl begin to overlap and merge and shimmer and flicker. She is reaching out to him, crying blood tears.
“HELP ME” she cries
He awakens to the city and the alarm clock again. Not wasting an instant he punches the alarm clock and it smashes.
“HELP ME” he hears in his head.
The television is broadcasting the emergency broadcast signal. It is advising people to stay inside and avoid people with the organism.
“HELP ME” he hears in his head.
The television is now telling people to report to inoculation centers. “For their own protection”.
“yeah right” Viceroy says
“HELP ME” he hears in his head.
The news anchor has tentacles coming out of his face and is speaking in a strange guttural language.
“HELP ME” he hears in his head.
He opens his closet and reveals the guns and body armor inside.
“HELP ME” he hears in his head.
In the kitchen he begins mixing solvents and chemicals, fashioning a crude homemade bomb.
“HELP ME” he hears in his head.
Fully decked out in armor and guns, strapped with his homemade bomb he emerges from his building.
Immediately he is confronted by Slug zombies and the carnage ensues. He is battling his way to his local inoculation center. He makes it to the doors and gets inside. Plants the bomb and gets ready to get outside. And is confronted by a man in a lab coat.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Just saving the world” Viceroy says
“We already saved your world. We have ended disease and war. You were not happy before we came. You had discontent and all the misery of your human condition. We have solved all of that“
“We had freedom.” Viceroy says
“FREEDOM!? You were free to feel miserable and kill one and other. What good is your freedom if you lack the will and ability to use it?” He asks
“HELP ME” he hears in his head.
“Touché Mother Fucker” says viceroy as he fires off more rounds into the creature that stands before him in a lab coat and hits the remote detonator on his explosive.
Debris and fire rain down all over and Viceroy raises himself into the frame smiles and says “it’s a good life”