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It was December 31st, 2041, ten years since the Spiker attacks. the sky was lit up by colorful
fireworks in the distance, and the little town of New Arabi was quiet, the only noise were the
sound of dogs barking, the far-away pops and bangs of the fireworks, and the whistling of the
cold winter wind.
"Olivia? Are you in there, Oli?" Fredrick called as he gently knocked upon a petal pink door that
was adorned with stickers of flowers, pictures of pop stars and little bunnies. He waited for a
minute until he heard the click of the door opening, and behind the door stood a young girl- no, a
young woman, with platinum white hair in a pixie cut with colorful barrettes speckled across her
hair, eyes as green as a granny smith apple or the greenest blade of grass, wearing a white
button-up shirt and a loose black cardigan paired with a black pencil skirt and some white
knee-high socks and black shoes, completed with a green teardrop necklace that Fredrick had
given to her for her 13th birthday, an orange, white and pink kandi bracelet, and a pink and white
cane that stabilized her balance instead of her bad knee, which she had greatly injured in an
accident when she was 9. She looked at her father and smiled, to which Fredrick did the same
thing.
"You look beautiful, Oli! Are you excited for that party at that venue?" He asked her as he
pulled a sliver of hair off of her cardigan. Olivia smiled again and giggled, tapping her
pink-painted fingernails against the handle of her cane.
"Oh, I sure am, Pa! but.. I'm kinda nervous. See, there's this.. Boy.. at school, and i've been
wanting to ask him out for a while, and he's going to be at the party tonight, but im worried that
he'll think i'm weird, or that he'll just because of my cane.." she stuttered, looking
around the room briskly with her eyes darting from place to place. Fredrick sighed lightly, and
tried to comfort his daughter by gently patting her on the back.
"Hey, I believe in you. Even if he does say no, at least you know you asked him instead of living
the rest of your life asking yourself 'what if?', and if he does say something rude about your cane,
then he doesn't deserve you anyway, because if there's one thing I know, its that true love doesn't
care about canes or looks or anything like that." Fredrick tried to reassure her. Olivia nodded and
looked down, shaking ever so slightly.
"I-Its just.. all the popular girls keep staring at me and talking about me because of it, and my
hair, and my clothes, they think i'm a weirdo.." She whispered, choking back tears as she gripped
her cane tighter.
"Oli, in all the ten years that i've called you my daughter, I can say with utmost certainty that you are NOT a weirdo! If anything, They're the weirdos for wanting to be like everyone else. I was the
weird kid too back in my day! Yeah, i was the kid who sat in the back of the library on his little
laptop laughing at memes with my best friend, whose your uncle Jonathan, and tinkering with robots and codes and all kinds of gizmos and gadgets and doodads! You wouldn't believe how many stares i got
and all kinds of gizmos and gadgets and doodads! You wouldn't believe how many stares i got
from the jocks, and the teacher's pets, and the sporty girls- i hated it too! But i never let that get
in my way- and look at me now! Your old man used to be one of america's leading men in
science back in the 2020's!"
Olivia giggled.
"and think about it this way, You're 18 now, and soon, You'll be out of school and you probably
won't see any of them ever again-- You'll be running that soap and candle shop you always
wanted to run." Fredrick consoled as he looked into her eyes. Olivia smiled, and hugged her
father tightly with both arms, using the tippy-toes of her bad foot to balance herself as Fredrick
helped her keep balance. after around 3 minutes, Olivia pulled away, and Fredrick handed her
cane to her before looking over to the clock on the wall, which read half past eleven o'clock.
"Oh, Olivia, Its eleven thirty! That party should be starting soon-- You'd best be getting over
there!"
"Pa, don't you want to come? there's gonna be games and snacks and karaoke!" Olivia offered, to
which Fredrick grinned and shook his head.
"Oh, thank you, Oli, but I'll be just fine! I'm just going to be drinking some whiskey and
watching the ball drop on TV! Besides, I don't think your friends would want to see an old drunk
scientist bumbling around rambling about robots the whole time!" Fredrick chuckled. Olivia
snickered and playfully rolled her eyes.
"Alright, if you say so, Pa!" she giggled as she walked through the threshold of her door, fredrick
holding the door for her. they then walked into the living room, where the door that led out of the
Johanneson home lie.
"You have fun at that party now, Y'hear? don't worry about what those losers think!"
"Thank you, pa.." Olivia chirped as she got on her tippy-toes to give her father a familial peck on
the cheek. she then proceeded to open the door into the cold winter night, and as she walked
from the porch onto the sidewalk, Fredrick called out again.
"And No funny Buisness!" he shouted with a playful smile.
"No Funny Buisness here, Pa! Love you, I'll be back by one!" She called back before walking
down the sidewalk. Fredrick then closed and locked the door, and made way to the kitchen.
When he got to the kitchen, he pulled a liquor glass from the wooden cabinet above his head. It
was a crystal clear, round glass from before the war, with a black picture of a barn and the words
"Whiskey Co." stamped on the side. Of course, Whiskey Co. was not a real company, but the
nostalgia that the glass carried about it that screamed 1996 could almost convince you it once
was.
Fredrick then walked to another wooden cabinet that contained his liquors, and from the
selection he had of wines, scotches, gins and vodkas, he chose a bottle of Peanut Butter Whiskey,
with its dark amber substance encaged in its glass container, with an etching of a ram on the side
of the bottle.
Fredrick then closed the cabinet, satisfied with the selection he had made, and went back into the
living room to sit on his favorite chair, turning the television to channel 8, which was currently
running commercials such as New Orleans club singers singing about lawyers, folks selling
coffee and donuts, and other things. Fredrick, not paying attention to the senseless
advertisements on his screen, unscrewed the cap from the bottle of whiskey, letting the scent of
the dark liquid fill his senses before pouring a bit of it into his glass. He then took a sip before
quickly turning away, trying his best to not spit it out and ruin the rug. He succeeded, However,
and quickly swallowed.
"Agh, that isn't how i remember it tasting like.. oh well!" He mumbled to himself as the station
returns to coverage of the ball dropping in New York. He took another sip, this time not minding
the burning sensation that the whiskey created. as midnight drew closer, Fredrick drank more and
more, the warm burning sensation in his throat and stomach growing with each sip, until
eventually, he found himself becoming more tired and happy feeling. it felt as if he had just sat
down, but the clock read 11:58, 2 minutes to midnight. he then began counting down until the
final seconds of 2041.
3.. 2.. 1.
"H-Happy Neeew Year!!" Fredrick cheered as he took one last swig out of the bottle drunkenly,
cheering for the bright new year to come for him and his daughter. not a minute later, fredrick's
head began to feel swimmy as he began to see double from the unusual amount of alcohol he had
drank in such a short amount of time. in fact, he found that he could not even get off of his chair,
much less keep a grip on the bottle. it wouldn't be much time, before Fredrick had blacked out,
dropping the bottle.
After a while, Fredrick had finally reawakened. He slowly opened his eyes as to not blind
himself with the television, noticing that the station had gone off of the air for the night. He
looked down at his white tank top, which had been covered whiskey that had turned cold from
the winter air, and groaned to himself in misery, noticing how dry his mouth was.
"ugh.. d@mn it..!" he moaned and groaned as he got out of his chair, immediately catching his
balance on the armrest. His throat was so dry, it was a struggle to even speak. He walked to the
bathroom while leaning on the wall for support, and as he entered the room and trudged to the
sink, he looked into the mirror and was met by an older man in his early 40's, with hair as white
as powder, pine green eyes, a pointy nose that slanted down just a little, a white goatee, and
subtle frown lines and eye creases, wearing a whiskey-stained tank-top. He groaned in disgust at
his apperance, stroking his beard as he stared into the eyes of his reflection.
"Ugh, Fredrick, you look like h3ll! what happened to you, boy..?" he growled before filling a cup
full of water that came from a well. He drank it, beginning to feel better as the liquid coated his
throat. He then poured water upon his face, which woke him up almost immediately. He then
went into his bedroom, which was adorned with science awards given to him, CDs with punk
music within, and photos from his days as a robotical scientist, standing among his fellow
collegues, with light brown hair and goatee, and a smooth face. Not to mention photos of him
with his parents and his two brothers and one sister. He smiled to himself as he looked upon the
photos, and opened up his wooden closet to grab a clean tank top, taking off the dirty one and
throwing it into the dirty clothes basket. After that, he pulled it over his head and stretched his
back and arms. He looked over at the clock, and to his surprise, it was 2:12 in the morning. He
was surprised that he was only out for that long, as horrible as he had felt upon waking up. then,
he noticed that something did not feel right. the house felt emptier than usual...
Where was Olivia?
"Olivia? Oli, are you here?" He called out as he left his bedroom and turned the light off. he went
silent, expecting to hear a response, but only silence was heard.
"...Olivia!" He called again, only to be met with the same silence. His heart began to beat faster
as he made his way to her room, opening the door, anticipating seeing his daughter playing on
her pink handheld console or writing in her diary, but she was not there. In fact, the room looked
as if it had been untouched since she left. His heart dropped as he remembered that she said she
would be back by one, she usually made it a point to be at places at the exact time she said, and
this was very unusual for Olivia. He then ran into the living room to find that the television was
showing a breaking news story. "Breaking News, at this hour?", Fredrick thought to himself until he noticed the anxiety of the anchorman as he read the script, then, the header caught his eye,
and his heart sunk into the pit of his stomach.
"SPIKERS ATTACK WOODFORK VENUE NEW YEARS PARTY, 34 D3AD, 15 INJURED, 2
MISSING"
Fredrick then bolted for the telephone, his shaky hand slamming in the phone number- careless
as to whether or not the buttons would break, while the other hand held the reciever with an iron
grip that could possibly shatter the plastic if he was not careful.
"Pick up, pick up!" He cried as he heard the phone ringing, but the ringing was quickly cut short
by the busy signal, as the venue's phonelines were being jammed with calls. He redialed, but the
same 3-note oddity plaed over the speaker, sounding louder against the silence. He then
attempted to redial once again before he saw the flashing of red and blue lights outside the
window, and the knocking on the door a couple of seconds later. He opened the door slowly, to
find two police officers wearing tattered uniforms that were covered in bl00d, most likely their
own, and bandages.
"Excuse me, are you Mr. Fredrick Johanneson, Father of Olivia Johanneson?" one skinny cop
with a bandaged eye and leg asked, holding his arm.
Fredrick nodded. "Yes, I'm him." He responded as he looked over into the officers' patrol car,
hoping to see Olivia in the back, but the car was empty. he looked back at the officers, who said
not a word. all that could be heard was the blowing of the frigid winter wind against his ears.
"Where is she? is she alright?" He asked. The skinny officer looked at the other officer, who was
burly and had bloody bandages wrapped around his belly and forearms. they then both looked at
Fredrick with a look of horror in their otherwise stone-cold faces, and the one-eyed officer spoke.
"When we arrived on scene, we found her slumped against the enterance with a giant gash in her
chest and her cane through the door handles along with other people. the paramedics tried their
best, but she lost too much blood in a short amount of time. I'm sorry, Mr. Johanneson... Your
daughter is dead."
Fredrick's blood ran cold, and his heart almost stopped. he clutched his chest in horror as reality
set in, and within seconds he found himself fighting back terror, sorrow, and rage. he wanted to
wring their necks so badly but he know it was no use, all that would do is get him arrested. it
took all his strength to not lunge at the cops in front of him, but instead he barked:
"Well where is she?! Take me to her!"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Johanneson, but she was found to be contaminated with spiker venom, and she
was taken to the Carnagie Funeral Home in New Gonzales for decontamination." The burly cop
responded gently, noticing the animalistic rage in Fredrick's eyes. Fredrick said nothing, but
gripped one fist that was hidden out of sight until it was white.
"Mr. Johanneson, do you have any family you could stay with for support?" the bigger cop asked
as he checked his surroundings and handed Fredrick Olivia's death certificate. Fredrick shook his
head.
"No, not here. My family and older brother moved up to Gulfport after the war ended, and my
younger brother and sister were in Moscow when the bombs dropped and I haven't heard from
both of them since. Olivia was my only family." He responded, gritting his teeth.
"My condolences, sir. Do you have any friends that could stay with you?"
"....I have one best friend, Dr. Jonathan Min."
"Well do you think you could call them, ask him to come here?"
"Probably. He's most likely asleep, though." He growled as he went to the phone and dialed
Jonathan's number. after 10 seconds of ringing, a man in his late 30's with a slight Korean Accent
picked up.
"Min Residence."
"Hey, Jonathan. Its Fredrick."
"Oh H-Hey Fredrick! Whats going on? I just woke up to get some milk when you called!"
"Jon.. The Woodfork Venue was attacked by Spikers, and Olivia was one of the victims.."
Fredrick choked as he tried to keep his eyes from pouring tears. you could hear the sound of the
phone cord tapping the receiever rapidly from Jonathan shaking on the other end.
"Huh?! I-Is she okay?!" Johnathan asked with panic in his voice. Fredrick's then began to crack.
"No.. She's gone, Jonathan. Theres cops here and they won't leave until you come to the house."
Fredrick then heard nothing but silence on the other end, which was then inturrupted by the
sound of the reciever hitting the floor, and distant swearing and yelling in Korean, Jonathan's
mother tongue. He then picked the reciever back up.
"Dear god... its all over the news! Its every station! 34?! ....Fredrick, I'm coming over. Don't go
with those cops! they'll probably try to do something to you, like put you in a nuthouse- so stay
where you are!"
"I wasn't planning on doing that, you know i don't like them any more than you do. I'll see you in
a bit."
click.
"He's on his way. Now, If you'll excuse me, I need to clean up. Good day."
"Sir, we need to stay with you until-"
"I said good day." he snarled as he picked up the whiskey bottle on the floor. after 20 minutes or
so, a dark brown car drove up into the drive way of the Johanneson Home, and out of the drivers
seat came a skinny, rectangle-figured korean man in his late 30's, with messy jet black hair,
coffee brown eyes, subtle dark circles under his eyes, thin blue round glasses, a thin
periwinkle-blue turtleneck, golden brown slacks, and a pair of black shoes. He walked up to the
house where the cops were standing outside talking.
"Are you Jonathan Min?" the one-eyed cop asked him.
"Yes, I'm Jonathan Min, Fredrick's Friend. He called me up here."
"Good. Well, we need to get back to the scene and notify other families. keep an eye out on Mr.
Johanneson, will you? Olivia's funeral is scheduled for noon tomorrow."
"Of course i will, he's my friend!" Jonathan responded as he walked away. The cops then got
back into their car and drove off, leaving Jonathan to open the door to find Fredrick sitting on his
couch, head in his hands.
"Fredrick..? I'm here..." Jonathan uttered in a gentle, soft tone that was reminiscent of a feather
brushing against skin. Fredrick said nothing, and instead waved, clearly still processing what
happened. Jonathan sat next to him, willing to offer an ear or a shoulder to cry on-- after all, thats
what friends do, they help their friends. He was there to let Fredrick let it all out, and by god, he
was going to be there for his childhood friend, just as he was there for him in their younger days.
some hours would go by where fredrick would say nothing, or sometimes he'd cry a waterfall,
other times he cursed Russia and spikers, and spouting profanities while doing so, and
eventually, they would be talking about their scientist days in the 2020's.
"I remember Project Prometheus like it was Yesterday. The fact that we made soldiers better,
gave veterans their limbs and life back, and even found out how to preserve memories and
consciousness in computers was amazing in and of itself!" Fredrick pondered with a wistful
smile on his face.
"I remember how excited you were when the first subject was successful. Heh, you became a big
household name within days, huh? you even got an award, and a cool little mug!"
"Yeah.. heh, sure did, Jon.. wait.. THATS IT!"
"Thats what?" Jonathan asked while tilting his head, startled at the sudden shift in Fredrick's
mood.
"THATS It! We can bring her back with cybernetics and computers! all we need is the memory
needles, cybernetic parts, computer parts, and other things! and where do we have those? The
Lab in Baton Rouge!"
"Y-You mean the one we used to work at 20 years ago? Fredrick, didn't Baton Rouge get
Cluster-bombed to hell and back? It should've been blown to smithereens!" Jonathan asked, both
terrified and intrigued by Fredrick's macabre idea.
"Ahh, thats where you're wrong, Jon! It was actually built to double as a fallout shelter too, so it's
resistant to blasts! at least, thats what the director said.
"Really? I didn't know that, and I worked there for about as long as you did!.. So what is your
plan, anyway?"
"The plan is that tomorrow after Olivia's funeral, we'll go to your house and get your shovels and
your big ice chest, i'll put it in my truck, and we retrieve her and drive all the way to baton
rouge!"
"Alright, not going to lie, that is a pretty nice plan for being pulled out of the blue, but Fredrick,
are you sure you want to do this? its going to be really grisly, and we'll be doing things that most
normal wouldn't even think about doing.. like graverobbing. You'll be robbing your own daughter's
grave." Jonathan whispered.
"Yes, i'm very sure! I'm going to bring her back one way or another!" Fredrick nodded.
"Alright then.. its late, and they said that her funeral is at noon tomorrow.. Man, I hate those cops
and their "Common Law" Bullcrap! We can't even plan our own folk's funerals on our own now!
cops were never good, but dear lord, they weren't THIS bad!"
"Oh trust me, i do too.. I miss Pre-apocalypse America. surprising, i know... Well, I suppose i'll
get a shower and change into something presentable for the funeral. I'll be right back." Fredrick
said before heading to his bathroom to take a shower and change. To past the time, Jonathan
picked up a book off of his coffee table titled "The History of Robot Dogs".
it would be 30 or so minutes before Fredrick returned, wearing a yellow dress-shirt and espresso
brown slacks paired with a tie as red as blood and dark brown dress-shoes. Jonathan smiled at the
choice of his attire, as nowadays it was discouraged to dress in black to a funeral because you
could be confused for a spiker, especially at night, when spikers like to dig up graves to eat the
remains.
"Hey, Nice outfit. Haven't seen you wear that shirt and tie since my Aunt Juno's wedding!"
Jonathan chuckled.
"Thank you. I'm surprised it still fits me!" he responded with a grin as he dusted off his chest and
stretched his back until it popped. He then looked out the window through the curtains, the sky
still dark as pitch, only lit by the streetlamps and the moon up above. Jonathan, however, was
still unsure of whether fredrick's grand plan was a good idea. While the thought of cybernetic
Resurrection was fascinating, he pondered if it would help them or lead them to ruin.
"Fredrick... before we carry out that plan, are you sure you want to do this? What if we get
caught, or what if we make some mistake that ends up k1lling people? And wouldn't people
wonder where we are?" He asked, trying to keep his inner fear hidden. Fredrick huffed, and
turned towards him, nodding.
"Jonathan, I assure you that we will not get caught. Besides, we'll only get Olivia from the
graveyard, no one else. We'll also need subjects, and I know the Carnagie brothers in New
Gonzales will help. they have to, they were our collegues!" He reasoned with a stern whisper.
Jonathan nodded, accepting this strange answer out of his friend.
"Now, all we do is wait, and it will all fall into place." Fredrick Sighed.
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