[WP] Careers are determined by a computer analysing how you would gain the most satisfaction. You have been given "Serial Killer".

It was no secret there was something different about me. In a society where one's existence was determined by a supercomputer, I knew I was destined not to be one of the hive.

Growing up I enjoyed just a few activities. Hunting. Tracking. Trapping. Fishing. Fighting. Not much more than that. A plain old redneck kid I guess.

My friends and I used to dream of what we hoped the Oracle would choose for us. The more daring of us would dream of being something other than their choice. But we all knew the sentence for that was life behind bars. And few had the balls to go through with the risk of it.

The Fugitives we called them. The only outlaws and rock stars left in a world of pure machinery. Where every finger stroke and foot step was calculated and recorded in a spreadsheet, there was something beyond inspiring about them. Though their numbers thinned year by year, every time we heard of one, our heart beat a little faster, for one short second in our dull existence. Those who dared live a life different than their selection. Who defied their calculated fate.

As the sun set on my 21st birthday, I kissed my parents goodbye and took my seat on the train to Alpha Sector. As my eyes drifted off to sleep I couldn't help but notice a small but familiar piece of graffiti etched into the plastic table in front of me: a python squeezing itself to death on a sword. My weary eyes blinked back open for a moment. The Fugitives. This was their symbol. Why was it here on the train to the Oracle? Was it just a reminder that we could all try to rebel? Or was it some kind of code?

I observed the sword and noticed it was not aligned straight with the table. I followed a line from its tip to underneath my chair. Reaching below, I pulled out a cloth with a small plastic pin, razor sharp. On the cloth was written a short sentence. "Strike before the second door. Do not fear, do not look back. Better tonight in the grave than a lifetime a slave. Discard now."

I threw the cloth out the barred windows.

My heart beat faster than a doe being chased by a lion. It took only a beat for me to make up my mind though I pierced the pin into my bicep, and lay back down. Only 45 minutes to Sector Alpha.

The train pulled in silently, and as the door opened the crescendo of mindless applause swept my ears.

I curled my lip in mild disdain at the mindless mass as I walked toward the entrance to the Oracle. The friendly assistants were dressed in the same uniform as everyone else. "Human Resource Administration, Type 4" was the most common. "Psychological Analysis Type 2" another common one. "Security Officer Type 6" seemed to be reserved for the rent a cops. And "Security Officer Type 1 Lethal" reserved for the highest level officers.

"Welcome, Beta XVI 92 Pre-select" a friendly blonde smiled at me. "I am HRA4-XV-114".... "Uh hi" I muttered back. "Come with me, it will just take a few minutes." she said, pressing her hand against the palm reader, opening the first door. Please place your hand into the DNA scanner before entering the secure area for uniform issuance, training and deployment. I complied.

Looking up, I saw in front of me: two SO-1-L officers. Lethal force authorized. Big guys. X-ray scanner in front of me. And the second door. "Strike before the second door." I remembered the cloth. It was now or never.

As I took of my shirt, I subtly pulled the pin from my left bicep. The blood started oozing from my arm. "Officer.... sir!!!" I cried out in feigned pain, as the blood kept pouring. He moved a little closer to look more closely at the wound in my arm. As fast as a lightning bolt, I jabbed the pin into his jugular. Pulling the gun from his holster with my other hand I shot the other officer. Two in the chest and one in the head.

Spinning around to face the young blonde, I saw tears welling from her eyes, too scared to scream out loud. As she moved her hand toward the panic button, I let a bullet loose between her eyes.

What have I done, my mind raced in panic. I looked around the room, and saw the snake and sword. Up above the scanners, next to an airduct. I grabbed the uniform of one of the security officers. I take out one of the other officers grenades and pulled the pin. Scrambling up the X ray machine I barely make it inside the airduct as the room is blown to kingdom come.

That was the day I became a Fugitive. With every passing day I took another stand for freedom. With every passing day, we recruited more, and fought off more who would see us enslaved.

Twenty years later, I stood chained to a wall. Ten men stood in front of me. Judgement day had come at last. I was to be executed for crimes against the state and terrorism. I looked as the clock ticked towards midnight.

"Ready weapons."

The firing squad pulled the bolts on their rifles.

"Aim..." the

"Hey, ARA-12-X?" I asked the sector governor sitted in the audience in front of me. "What did the Oracle say my career would have been anyway?"

"Serial killer." he replied coldly as a piercing, whistling, scream in the horizon told me my men had successfully detonated the first of our nukes in Alpha Sector


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