Original Chapter: Chapter One
Story Title: Depopulate
Chapter Title: Chapter One
Genre: Crime, Drama, Suspense
Rating: PG13/T
Word Count: 1,638
Summary: Officer Trent chases the trail of Jane, head of a homicidal movement to depopulate the world.
Author's Note: I tried to make the style into a kind of short, factual, police-like style to match Officer Trent's outlook. I hope it doesn't come across as too dry! Also, if I have erred in the factual domain, please feel free to point it out.
The room was white, the table and its two chairs plain and made of metal. The psychologist wore a dress suit and held her notebook in hand, pen poised at the ready. She maintained a serious look, but there was an undeniable glimmer of interest that shown around her. The officer hardly looked like one, dressed in street clothes - a button-up shirt and some khaki pants. His job was only evident in his posture.
The psychologist spoke. “So, Bruce, what was it like when you went in there?”
“It was…odd.”
“What did you find odd?”
“It was all too…convenient, you know? The door was unlocked, and she was just sitting there, unarmed. Like she had been expecting us. Like she wanted to be caught. I mean, you saw the post, right? The last one before we caught her? That was before we even got in the building, but it was like she knew. Like she saw us coming. Like…like all of this, everything that’s happened, was all a part of her plan, and she’s just waiting to make her next move.”
The television screen blurred and slanted before flashing the events of the tape in reverse. He hit play again, furrowing his brow as he listened again to Brent’s recount.
“The door was unlocked, and she was just sitting there, unarmed.”
There Trent stopped the tape. He sat back heavily in his chair, letting out a deep sigh.
“So, Vérité…what’s your next move?”
“Unfortunately, we won’t know until it happens.” Lisa bustled into the room, double-fisting large coffees. She handed one to Trent as she flopped down next to him. He accepted, grateful for the fact that his partner always seemed to sense when he needed a hot brew. “Still on this crap?”
“I can’t shake this feeling that she’s dropped a hint somewhere.”
“Well, Bruce ain’t gonna help you much with that.” Trent hadn’t noticed the tape Lisa had been juggling under one arm. She thrust her coffee into his open hand as she moved for the television. “Got you a present,” she said, holding up the tape as the old one ejected. She pulled it out and stuffed in the new one before rejoining Trent and grabbing her coffee.
The scene that appeared was very similar to Bruce’s: same room, same psychologist. The striking difference was the girl sitting in Bruce’s place. She looked so young. She was young, Trent reminded himself. Her documents said that she was eighteen. He had seen her before, but it still startled him to see how young she really was.
Here as always she retained an eerie calm. She gazed around the room before fixing her eyes on the psychologist.
“So, Georges le Vérité,” the woman said, jostling through the dossier in her hands. “Or should I say, Jane Smith. May I call you Jane?”
“You may,” Jane replied, with the kind of politeness that most people followed with a smile, but it was pretty clear that she was not the type to smile much, if ever.
The psychologist nodded, flipping her notebook to the top of her pile and jotting something down. “So, Jane…how old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“Where do you live?”
“Ashton.”
“Who do you live with?”
“No one.”
“So you live alone.” The psychologist jotted a few more notes before turning to look at Jane. “How do you feel about that?”
“I like it.”
“You like living alone? Do you ever get lonely?”
“No.”
“What about your family? Do you have any family?”
“No.”
“No? None at all? You had some sort of guardian at some point, didn’t you?”
“Not really.”
“Not really?”
“They were never around.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
“I liked it.”
“Well, you seem to enjoy your space.” The psychologist took a few more notes before looking back to Jane. “How about friends?”
“What about them?”
“How many do you have?”
“That’s an odd question.”
The psychiatrist seemed to be caught off-guard. “Oh, well…I suppose you’re right! If you’d rather not answer it, that’s fine. How about a descriptive word, like ‘many,’ ‘a few,’ ‘enough’…”
“Some.”
“Some…well, that’s good. And how did you meet them?”
“Online.”
“Online? All of them?”
“Yes.”
More note-taking. “Did you meet them through your blog?”
“Not all of them.”
“Where did you meet the rest of them?”
“Various forums.”
“What kind of forums?”
“Just general ones.”
More note-taking. “Have you ever met any of your friends in person?”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet? So you have plans to meet them?”
“No.” She looked directly at camera, a look that approached a grin spreading across her lips. “But I have a feeling I’ll see them sometime regardless.”
Trent paused the tape. He sat on the edge of his seat, leaning forward, his full cup of coffee long forgotten on the floor. He continued to stare at the screen as he spoke to Lisa.
“Where did you get this?”
“Criminology sent it over. Defense wanted to see if they could declare her insane.”
“Isn’t that confidential?”
“Yea…but I think they’re as scared as you are that she’s got something up her sleeve. She’s got an Amendment on her side, so…” She left unsaid the thing they all dreaded, the thing that kept the case on Trent’s mind night and day as they awaited the end of the trial. Lisa clapped a comforting hand on Trent’s shoulder. “But we don’t gotta worry about that now. In the mean time…shall we proceed?”
Trent nodded stiffly and pressed play.
The psychologist looked confused and slightly distressed as she glanced a few times between Jane and the camera. She shook it off after a moment and cleared her throat. “Are you looking forward to seeing them, whenever you do?”
Jane turned her gaze back to the psychologist. “Oh, absolutely.”
“So you like your friends?”
“If I didn’t, why would I call them my friends?”
“I’m not sure. Some people are just silly like that.” She paused for a moment to scribble some more things down. “Now Jane…may I turn the subject to your blog?”
“You certainly may. It’s my favorite subject.”
“Your favorite subject. Okay, then. Now, tell me a bit about it.”
“Tell you what? I know you’ve read it.”
“I have indeed, but I would like to hear about it from you personally.”
“Every word is from me personally.”
The psychologist took a deep breath. “I was just wondering…what brought you to start it? What brought you to say those things?”
For a moment, Jane was silent in thought. Finally, she leaned forward a little. When she spoke, her voice sounded less formal, though what it changed to was difficult to say. “Have you ever been on a crowded city street? Everywhere, people. Talking about nothing. Rushing to nowhere. Selling shit. Begging for money. Shouting, fighting, stealing…so many petty people leading their petty little lives.” She leaned forward a little more, resting her hands on the table. “I used to be petty too. I used to talk about nothing, hurry to see nobody. But then I realized how messed up it all is. How there are so many people that contribute nothing to the world, who are allowed to go around living their stupid little lives, when there are people who can’t even get enough food to eat. When we are quickly running out of the very resources that make these petty lives possible. And then I thought, why don’t we just get rid of them? If they’re not doing anything productive, wouldn’t their sacrifice be justified to save this world about to crumble?
“But then I realized-” Jane leaned back, spreading her arms beside her- “who am I to decide who deserves to die? I’m no god. I’m almost as useless as everyone else. So I said, why not let the people decide? I submitted it to the World Wide Web, to let them do with it what they would. And the result was better than I could have imagined. At first, there were only a few, and it was all just talk…but then the links, and the pictures, and the testimonies of citizens helping the cause. So as any good leader does, I encouraged them, guided them, helped them find the best way to follow my word.” For the first time, a genuine smile crossed her face. “It’s amazing, isn’t it, what the Internet can do?”
The psychologist returned a very nervous smile and nodded. “It sure is.” She shuffled distractedly through her notes before finally aligning the stack on the table and standing up. “Well, I think that’s about all I need to know. Thank you very much, Jane.” She offered her hand across the table.
“The pleasure was all mine,” Jane said, her voice stiff once again, as she shook the woman’s hand.
They exited the room, and the video cut to black.
“Woah.” Lisa sat still for a moment after the tape was done before moving to eject it. “If you ask me, I think the loony bin would do her some good. And those friends of hers, too.”
Trent remained silent, still staring at the blank screen.
Lisa put her hand on his shoulder. “You alright?”
He started a bit, as if jolted from sleep. “Yea…yea. I’m fine.” He looked around for a moment, a little disoriented, before standing. “I’m going back to the office. Got a lot of paperwork to do.”
“Gonna return this, see ya later,” Lisa said as he left.
It wasn’t until he had gotten back to his desk that Trent realized he forgot his coffee. It was disgustingly lukewarm, something he usually never permitted to happen. He liked his coffee black and burning hot. He gulped it down anyway, desperate for something to rouse him from his dark thoughts and put his mind instead on his petty paperwork.