Untold Deception

by William Staikos

  Untold Deception

  Prologue

  “Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it, and eventually they will believe it.”

  ―1938 TIME Magazine’s Man of the Year

  I took a deep breath and looked at the faces of those who depended on me to succeed. My heart began to race. Faster and faster it went. Every second spent on a word could make or break countries. I, a mere teenager, must make a speech to stop the second Great War.

  Kiongozi held the rope that was attached to the orange tarp. But before he could yank it, Smith yelled out, “Hold it!”

  He wiped off the makeup over my eye scar, took off the contact lens, and brushed my hair away from my ears.

  “There! They have to know it’s you…Now; are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  We tested the radio once for volume control, and I got the thumbs up. Smith raised his hand. This was it – the moment given to me to call an entire country to task for its sins.

  “We’re live in three, two, one,” and Smith dropped his hand.

  The orange curtain dropped, and the show began.

  1- Innocence

  “Once you start asking questions, innocence is gone.”

  ― Mary Astor

  It’s a different planet. It’s a different timeline. It’s a different development of our world.

  I walked to school with my old worn out backpack. It had brown leather straps that barely fit my textbooks. I saw a Cyclops family; they were disgusted by me. They didn’t know me but that didn’t seem to matter. It was a reflexive kind of look, like the involuntary response to decaying meat. Racism is nothing if not consistent. I’m used to this type of treatment now. I wish I could say it was just from Cyclops families.

  Continuing my route, I ignored the judgmental faces. I stopped at the wagon transport sign by the side of the cobblestone road, waiting for my ride to school. Intertwined thoughts of hatred and school were beginning to arise when the wagon pulled up.

  “Just another day,” I muttered to myself.

  The four-horse wagon stopped when the driver pulled the reins. As I climbed aboard, the driver glanced at the top of my head and sneered.

  “Back of the carriage with you; you know the drill,” he barked.

  I made my way to the back of the enclosed coach where another student was already sitting. This was my first day of high school. ‘Abomination Seating’ was carved into the wooden wall at the back of the coach. The seats back here had less cushioning and were always more splintered than the seats for purebreds. A female student sat near the window seat. She twiddled her thumbs. Must be her first day at this school, just like me, I thought.

  I asked, “Mind if I take this seat?”

  She gave me a fake smile while I waited for her response. She paused a moment and then said, “Sure; go ahead.”

  I took the seat beside her. The murmur of whispers from the bus continued. I hated the whispers. Piercing eyes gazed at me as if I were a scrap of trash someone had left; eye contact only lasted a moment before expressionless faces turned away. I decided to look towards the new student beside me instead. She seemed shy and unfamiliar with being an outsider. I’ve been used to this type of treatment since I was born.

  The horse wagon began to move forward at a trot. Light filtered through the windows as the red curtains swayed back and forth near each seat.

  “So, you're an Abomination too, huh? What two races are you?” she asked.

  “Felis and Human. I don’t enjoy talking about it though.”

  “Ha; join the club. I’m Minyades and Human. But it is unusual to find half-breeds of your kind anywhere,” she added.

  This was true. Other races for generations had enslaved my Felis side, so it was unusual to see anyone now with Felis features. We were usually forbidden to have offspring because our blood was considered unfit by even the government's standards. I didn’t like this subject, so I changed it.

  “I’m 16. How old are you?” I asked.

  “Same,” she nodded.

  “I never got your name,” I said.

  Before she could answer, she was distracted by the scene outside the window. I followed her gaze and saw the slums of my neighborhood. Homeless people shuffled down the street, staring inside the wagon with dead eyes. Some kids closed the curtains to avoid their gaze; out of sight, out of mind. A lot of homeless people here were freed Felis slaves who couldn’t find work. Some of them had armbands, which we half-breeds were forced to wear to signify our status in case we tried to conceal it.

  The girl snapped out of her trance a bit and turned back to me, a look of genuine surprise on her face. She must be new around here. She then studied more of my complexion. I had cat ears on top of my head from my Felis half. My tail was jet black, but both were smaller than a complete Felis. I began to study her looks as well. The girl had bat ears. Her pupils had a prominent brown color, and the whites of her eyes were almost black. She had undeveloped bat wings due to her age.

  She then locked eyes with me and broke the silence, “My name is Seraculus.”

  “My name’s Salan,” I replied.

  We both smiled at each other. It was about time I met a person who gave me more than a cold hard stare when I talked to them.

  “What a bunch of freaks,” said someone near the front. We both heard it. The superior hearing, we had confirmed the words.

  “Ignore them,” I whispered to her.

  Seraculus smiled. It didn’t take long before the carriage stopped at our destination.

  “Everyone off!” the carriage driver shouted.

  I got off the carriage with Seraculus. Not many people would be caught dead with me because they might be treated the same. Who would associate with someone who was universally hated? A parent’s perspective was passed down to their kids, and most parents around here clearly hated my guts.

  I walked towards the brick building known as Fabrica High School. This was my first day, and it was nice to meet someone who would talk to me as an equal. No staring at my cat ears, no comments about my unusual appearance. Initially, people used to hate me directly. They would hurl crude insults like, “Chase some yarn, you pussy,” or “Who forgot to change the cat box?”

  This sort of thing happened for a while. I remember running home crying when I first started elementary school, having never experienced anything like it before. My mom advised me to stand up for myself and, after a few fights, they suspended me. But when I returned, most of the bullies were too scared to say anything to my face—so they did it behind my back instead. I won every fight. This wasn’t surprising because 2% of the population only shared my physical ability. I have a separate cellular component of my DNA that allows me to make temporary morphological changes. This ability was known as aura. When I was four months old, I was walking and climbing on top of tables. That’s the only reason I’m allowed to be in school instead of being a slave.

  I moved towards the front door of the school with Seraculus. I paused, looking up at the school name: ‘Fabrica High School.’ I took out my schedule sheet to see what my first class was. History, taught by Mr. Lox. Inside the History classroom, I took a seat at the back of the room, according to school regulations. I flipped off the ‘Abomination Seating’ sign draped over my desk for good luck and sat down. These two desks had been set up far away from the others. The interior of the room was made of grey cement blocks, and there was a big black chalkboard at the front of the room. Mr. Lox, a Cyclops’, took a seat at the wooden desk at the front of the room. I bet Mr. Lox loves the sound of his voice; it’s a common Cyclops trait.

  “OK, class. We’re going to start by introducing ourselves. Stand up and say your name,” Mr. Lox pointed to Seraculus to start
.

  Seraculus stood up nervously, “Hi, I’m Seraculus, and I’m happy to meet you all,” she bowed and took a seat.

  “We don’t care,” replied Frank, a Cyclops’ from a wealthy family. His friends laughed after this comment.

  “Quiet down, Frank,” said Mr. Lox, trying to contain his laughter as well.

  The class murmured to each other, already turning against her like a pack of wolves. She sat down embarrassed. I hated every one of these puppets. They were unable to form their own opinion. I waited for Mr. Lox to start class. When it was my turn, I gave a monotoned response for my name and sat back down.

  “OK students: today we’re going start by review the Great War,” Mr. Lox gave off triumphant smirk looking at the both of us. “Now the Humans took over the world with an alliance of Caltrons and Cyclops. Their rivals were the Minyades, Felis, and the Tranvesus. The Tranvesus were smart, surrendering first and providing the Axis Alliance with food and supplies from the sea. The Felis fought for a long time but gave up their homeland. We tricked them with peace treaties and subdued them with our technological advantages. We then maximized production by using them as slaves. When the Felis became our slaves, the Minyades people fell. The Minyades betrayed tribes of Felis in the Black Forest as an offering of peace. During this conflict, the Hymers were initially neutral. However, they only traded with us near the end of the war.”

  Mr. Lox spoke as if he was there on the front lines – as if he was ever there.

  “The Hymer typically try not to take sides. After the war, a law passed by the new country Faslow forbade interbreeding between the races. This was to remove tension between races, and ensure culture was maintained. This formed new royalty. The government agreed that the leading general should be crowned king of the new nation of Faslow as a reward. This land originally belonged to the Felis. General Mammon, with 5,000 confirmed kills, was crowned King.”

  Mr. Lox seemed to take pride in purebreds. To him, they represented cultural purity. Many people wanted Faslow culture to be simple, entirely determined by appearance. He wanted the world to be separated. This type of thinking passed very quickly to my classmates as they nodded in agreement. My people are slaves, and I would be too, except for the fact I’m an Abundan, someone born with incredible powers because of a rare mutation.

  I started to tune back into what the Mr. Lox was saying, “The General had extraordinary abilities that came from his genetic ancestors. To this day, scientists cannot trace the origins of this genetic mutation.”

  He eyed me at the back of the class, sneered, and then continued his lecture.

  “The law states that if you are an Abomination of any race, you can be a free person, although your rights will be restricted,” he said with evident delight.

  The only reason I’m allowed in school was that the country wants me to train to become a soldier. This was for their selfish purposes. A label I was born with that I did not want. All I wanted was to be normal.

  “As you may know, Salan has inherited this ability. Don’t worry, he’s an Abomination, but our military can use him for peacekeeping purposes. He knows his place,” Mr. Lox folded his arms triumphantly.

  Mr. Lox was picking a fight with me because he wants the excuse to kick me out. Seraculus’ bat ears went back in anger. She opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it. Mr. Lox picked up on it and put his hands on his waist. Some of his belly fat drooped over his waistline, visible even through his shirt. When people put their hands on their sides, they give the impression that they want more power. Mr. Lox jiggled his double chin as he began to speak, “Seraculus, if something is bothering you, please speak up.”

  Seraculus paused for a moment and glanced over at me. I shook my head.

  “Never mind,” said Seraculus.

  “Class, this is a perfect example of what happens when people are inbred. It causes anger and confusion,” stated Mr. Lox pompously.

  “She may be a bat, but she’s less blind than you, fat ass,” I thought—or rather, I wish I thought. I realized that I said the words I was thinking. Some of my classmates looked like they wanted to laugh but were too afraid. Others, as usual, just glared at me like garbage. Mr. Lox’s face grew red with rage.

  “Laugh it up now! Just you wait, you furry pussy!” shouted Mr. Lox. He picked up a massive metal ruler and began walking towards me. I wish I could say this was the first time back in elementary school. I have complained about such treatment, but there are no laws to stop the abuse of an Abomination. A complaint from such a person, descendant of a race of slaves, fell on deaf ears. I was defenseless, and the only thing I could cling to was my pride. And even that was beginning to run low.

  I’ve considered cutting off my ears and tail. My mother found me with scissors one night and made me promise I’d never get to that point again.

  So, I decided to go all out and mess with this new teacher. What did I have to lose?

  “Before you start, can I just say one more thing?” I asked.

  Mr. Lox smacked the side of my desk, “If you plan on begging, I might listen to what you have to say.”

  He has had anger issues in the past and rumors have spread about him beating his wife. She was a substitute teacher at my elementary school.

  I moved my finger back and forth, “I think your wife might have left you due to that temper, Mr. Lox,” I said, flashing him the biggest smile I could muster.

  He hit me repeatedly on one wrist, sharp pain followed with each smack. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of revealing any discomfort. When one wrist swelled up, he switched to the other. He wanted to watch me suffer; it lasted so long that the class began to feel uneasy. Eventually, one of the other students spoke up, “Mr. Lox, can we get back to the lesson? He’s just an Abomination after all.”

  “I suppose you're right,” gasped Mr. Lox, who had winded himself by his exertions.

  All I could think about was smashing my fist in his face. I could have destroyed him. My strength and speed were more than that of a grown man because of the fact I’m an Abundan. My cells are more efficient and have a secondary energy source that isn’t just kinetic. This energy can be stored like a battery. If I ever retaliated or tried to hurt someone though, the authorities would hold my mother responsible for my actions. Not only that, but they would merely imprison me if I became too much of a problem. So, I couldn’t retaliate. At least being an Abundan meant that my wounds heal fast.

  I stared at the clock and waited for the hands to tick down. Time moves at a standstill when you’re feeling blue. Come on; go faster! I thought as I stared at the clock. I began tapping my foot waiting for the bell, for freedom. I didn’t take notes, so I folded up my arms as I waited. Seraculus noticed this and smiled. She was frantically taking notes but always kept me in her field of view. When she wasn't looking, I checked her out. I noticed more of her physical features. She had a pretty face in general, but her bat ears were even more prominent than my cat ears. Her bat wings sprang out beautifully from her back. Another girl named Afriel also had wings, but she was purebred. Known as the angel race from Human mythology, universally known as Caltrons. She had more rights and was treated better than most for her good looks. One of the biggest lies a person will tell is that they don’t judge others based on their appearance. People keep dogs, yet slaughter pigs. Is the decision of what lives or dies?

  Afriel seemed like a kind girl, but she wouldn't be caught dead with me. She was one of few Caltrons in our school. It’s funny how rarity can be attractive to some, but a nuisance to others. She wouldn’t sacrifice her social status to talk to me. Not many would, when shunning was so much easier.

  One of the boys in our class who was a Tranvesus. These people can live underwater, and they have gills and webbed feet and hands. They are rare in the country of Faslow because the waters are too shallow and polluted. His name was Babel, and I knew him from my previous elementary school. Babel raised his hand.

  Once acknowledged, he sai
d, “Mr. Lox, Salan isn’t taking notes. Should we not have to take notes as well?”

  “Thank you, Babel, for pointing that out,” smirked Mr. Lox, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Should it matter, Mr. Lox? After all, I’m an Abomination and don’t know any better.”

  “Are you getting smart with me?”

  “How could I get smart when I’m an Abomination, Mr. Lox?”

  “I suppose so. You’ll have a short lifespan in the military anyway. Good luck with the test next week, Salan,” he said with an evil smirk.

  Some of the classmates giggled at Mr. Lox’s comment. The good news was, he could never fail me. I soon came to realize that the school board wouldn’t allow it. Holding me back wouldn't be a part of their peacekeeping priority.

  Seraculus got angry at this type of treatment: she seemed to shake with anger. I put my hand on hers for a moment to stop her from getting beaten up too. I shook my head. Understanding my body language, she smiled and relaxed. I wrote down on the following advice on a small piece of paper:

  “Pick your battles carefully. Don’t let these idiots get to you.”

  These words were not my own, but my mother’s. She told me, “Never be afraid of what you are, but do be concerned about what you might become. Don’t become the monster they want you to be. Pick your battles carefully, Salan, and always stay strong.”

  My mother and a few others treated me as an equal. Seraculus seemed like one of these others. She was the first girl my age who was interested in me. Maybe one day someone my age who was purebred would also treat me right. I doubt it, but it was a nice thought.

  As Mr. Lox droned on, I let my mind wander. A world in which differences were merely acknowledged instead of being mocked in malicious whispers. God, I hated the whispers. I knew what they meant. They grow louder from a distance and quieter when I get close. It’s such a cowardly thing to do. Got something to say, be willing to say it to someone’s face.

  The bell rang for recess. History class was over. I wished they would transfer me to an all Abomination school; maybe I’d fit in there better. However, this was a better facility for training Abundan skills. My mother also disapproved of segregated schools, at least for me. She said I was like any other kid and that I should be proud of who I am. She said being in an integrated school would make me strong.