The Deisys Worker’s Manual
ExcerptStep six: Emergency Protocol: Suit Malfunction
“He hath torn me in his wrath, and persecuted me; He hath gnashed upon me with his teeth: Mine adversary sharpeneth his eyes upon me.” Job 16:9
A man walks through a forest, on a pilgrimage, he claims. The myths have led him here, the stories spread in surrounding villages. Don’t enter the forest, they said. Something slumbers neath the oak and solemn dirt. Something slumbers, sir, don’t enter. He knows he’s in the right place.
First his wife, vomiting blood and staring aimlessly through bloodshot eyes until red consumed white and the townspeople called her a devil, snuck into their bedroom, and slit her throat red.
Then his daughter, pulled from the burning house and hurried to a nearby town where they would start fresh, start anew, until she told some children her story and they drowned her dead in the river.
He knows he’s being punished–he doesn’t know why. He watched as others prostrated, as their mouths twisted, pleading. He watched and felt sick and sharpened his knife.
He found it in the center of the forest, leading to somewhere else, to something else. He built a house beside it, he built a town. Those who joined him stood proud in their grief, sharpening their knives beside him. They built a factory, built barracks. Time was inconsequential, that which slumbered cared not for it, and neither would they. Those who died were replaced. They died peacefully, knowing work would continue. A manual was written, one to encourage the future generations. Enter the Breach. Start your work. Reap your revenge.
