Sweet Sick Teen 48

One sympathetic individual took advantage of the sudden silence to talk to the Girl. “We’re very interested in your unborn child. I understand you were with a Tentacled ONE?”

“What of it?” she defensively asked. News traveled fast around these parts.

“There are rumours that foretell of a child with mixed blood who will rise up and unite Humanity, ushering in a new Golden Age.”

“What rubbish. WE have prophecies that foretell of a baby with mixed blood who will will rise up, and divide Humanity, ushering in a new Apocalyptic Age.”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on a kid who hasn’t even been born yet.”

“There’s no guarantee the child will be our saviour! It could very well be an intended seed of destruction!”

“It will save us!”
“It will destroy us!”
“It will have no effect on our lives at all!”
“No one cares for your ineffective ideas.”
“Our lives matter very little in the grand scheme of things. One more birth won’t change things that much.”
“Such an abomination should never come into existence! This is just further proof that today’s parents are too lax with their children! Immature brats who don’t know any better!”

The Girl complained, “I don’t even want the kid!”

“You see?! The Mother doesn’t even want the cursed child either!”

“She’s a traitor to our cause! By lying down with THEM, she’s betraying humanity! They’re trying to replace us by infecting us with their superior genes!”

“You know, normally the argument is to reject other species by claiming they’re inferior compared to us.”

“The ONEs are immune to our weapons, and are capable of vaporizing us on sight if we displease them!”

“If that’s not a sign of a superior being, what is?”

“We don’t want to evolve into higher beings! We’re quite content being neanderthals, thank you very much!”

“We should be honoured by their grace and presence!”

“How can we possibly compete with their extra appendages?!”

“If we didn’t evolve to have our Prehensile Tails removed, we wouldn’t be in so much trouble.”

“We can’t allow these false Gods to tempt us over!”

“Especially the SEXY ones that raise uncomfortable feelings in our pants that MUST be stamped out!”, he screamed, empathetically pounding against his crotch.

“Despite being surrounded by Ones, our faith has never been stronger. The presence of these powerful beings proves there’s a benevolent force in the universe - just not in the form we thought of.”

“These aren’t Gods! These are ONEs draped in the guise of False Gods!”

“Wait, there are ONEs walking among us?” the Girl asked.

“Are you blind?! Surely you’ve seen these covered heretics just brazenly waltzing around!”

She’d been vaguely aware of these Hooded Figures moving about in the crowds, but up until now, she hadn’t really noticed their presence until this loudmouth pointed out their existence.

“Haven’t you ever wondered WHY the ONEs are covered up?”

“No.”

While the Girl wasn’t interested, here’s some background detail that might be worth knowing. You can feel free to skip this infodump and move on to the dialogue, but it would help explain what’s going to happen next.

When the ONEs first came upon the scene, people had extreme difficulty communicating with them, since their very presence could cause internal damage and madness just from seeing them upon sight. Eventually through a series of brave diplomatic volunteers, they were able to appeal to their better nature by convincing them that their pure essence was too dazzling, and should be shielded to hide their true forms from human eyes, since their very essence could drive them wild. All of this was accomplished while never looking in their direction, and giving out rags that would be considered praiseworthy at hiding their beauty from the unworthy masses. However, there were protests from skeptics who refused to believe that there were concepts beyond their comprehension.

“The ONEs only go out wearing full-body robes that cover their appearance from human eyes out of fear that the majesty of their true forms would cause insanity to us.”

“Balderdash! That’s just a conspiracy to lord their superiority over us! I’m sure that underneath those robes, they’re no different from you and me!”

“The only reason they’re considered so frightening is because we’re simply not used to their facial features. Once we become acclimated to their looks, they won’t be as scary.”

To prove his point, he took a random Cloaked ONE and lifted the veil.

“Don’t do it! Seeing their true form is akin to visual blasphemy!”

“There’s nothing to be frightened of. All we have to do is take that first brave step and - ”

And upon seeing the features hidden underneath, his head quivered before it exploded into dozens of pieces like a piece of ripe cabbage dropped from a great height. His body staggered for a moment, the stump spurting blood upwards, then fell chest down on the ground, frightening the ONE away.

“SEE?! The rules exist for a Reason!!”, he proclaimed, his confidence bolstered, now that this heretic could no longer talk back. However, the fallen man’s followers were still there.

“One point two seconds! We’re building up resistance!”
“He was an amateur.”
“He tried to take the full effect head on.”
“What’s needed is to gradually take on their appearance one piece at a time until we develop an immunity to their presence.”

“Isn’t his death just from looking more than enough proof?!”

“I’d say the lack of proof is the deciding factor here.”
“We shouldn’t be scared off just from one or two failures.”
“Our eyes are bleeding, but that’s an improvement.”

This misplaced optimism wasn’t unusual. Despite so many repeat failures, every attempt only spurred them on. The lucky ones were those who died instantly. Others who endured longer had their eyeballs melted and pieces of brain leaking through their ears. One volunteer suddenly started imploding their head from the mouth until his entire skull was sucked in. After these frequent failures, someone decided that they needed to take a picture or reflection in order to develop some kind of immunity from them. Neither plan worked, because the slightest hint of technology simply fell apart upon exposure.

“By claiming there’s some element about them that’s unworthy of seeing, they’re depriving us. If it’s that dangerous, then there must be something worth seeing!”

“You should know better than that by now, following the example of The Living Martyr.”

“The Living Martyr?” the Girl asked, welcome to inject her forgotten presence in the conversation. “Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

“It’s not a contradiction. You see, the Martyr had a bomb attached to his chest. He was all set to make a suicide attack on Ambassador Wurm, who had arrived at a summit conference - ”

The Girl grew bored instantly. She could already see where this story was going.

“So he moved in close, pushed the button that would blow them up, but it had no effect.”

“Because...?” the Girl asked impatiently. It was obvious that at the very last moment, the Martyr had a change of heart.

“At the moment of detonation, the Ambassador made a casual gesture, and the explosion was self-contained.”

Okay, so maybe not that obvious. “So the Ambassador saved the Martyr?”

“Not entirely. The explosion is still taking place within the Martyr’s bowels. It’s expanding at a very very slow rate. By all rights, his internal organs should be ripped to shreds, but they’re still functioning. He’s dying, but very very slowly. To add insult to injury, the Ambassador didn’t even bother to look at its handiwork. The Ambassador just continued on to the meeting site.”

“As of now, the Living Martyr is living a life of excruciating pain. Since his stomach area was ripped to pieces, he can only absorb nutrients intravenously. Ironically enough, despite failing spectacularly, and being a warning to others, the Living Martyr has become a shining beacon of inspiration. Now that he truly knows that there’s nothing left to live for, he’s actively going out on missions, despite the inherent danger of his self-contained explosion. He’s now more popular and powerful than the Masters who’d ordered him to his death.”