Enter Diplodocus, a man, in his 20s, bald, well-defined musculature, and introspective to an extreme. Diplodocus wasn’t a single, coherent identity; rather, he was conglomeration of whatever his experience exposed him to, as he adapted to it, struggling to put on an identity he could call home. But at his core was a man seeking for the truth, an observant man who saw things others didn’t, a man who had a special ability. Here we meet Diplodocus at work, in the privacy of his own thoughts. Say hello, he just might hear you.
There was always something a little off about him; off-putting in a way that had you scratching your head. You were never quite sure if you were reading too much into it. Sometimes you were able to ignore it, but there was …show more content…
They seized the bus, guns pointing at terrified faces, and ordered them to get out. People left the bus on shaken legs, bad thoughts racing through their heads; the sense of fear and terror was palpable. Men, women, and children, united in terror. The cartel ordered everyone to form a line and fall on their knees. They smiled and talked with absolute authority. The complete control over human life was like an addiction to them and they relished in the palpable fear that seemed to power them. Able to play out their most creative and evil endeavors, they decided to play a game. They explained the rules to the conquest people: We are going to have some fun. Today, you are gladiators and like gladiators, you will fight for your life. We shall pin equal opponents against together and whoever survives will win the chance of life. However shocking their brutality, the slim chance of survival—that is, if the cartel kept true to their word and didn’t massacre everyone anyway—fueled a hope in the hearts of the people. They dreamed to see their families again, to be as separated as possible from the vast desert and the cartel’s control. Pointing at two strong men from the line, the leader said: You two first, show everyone how it is done. And so they were thrust to the center of the “arena.” The two men looked into each other’s eyes. There they were, reduced to a primitive state of humanity, deprived of their better nature. They were strong and good-looking, and they viewed each other with a tenderness that was incongruous to the ongoing chaos around them. Pablo and Marco were their names, they had never met each other before, and instead of meeting their gazes with fiery rivalry, there was a moment of endearing recognition. They smiled ever so slightly as they were commanded to get started, guns pointing in their direction. A button switched in their heads and the barrage of punches