#redtidesarollin — Public Fediverse posts

It was December 31st, 2041, ten years since the Spiker attacks. the sky was lit up by colorful

fireworks in the distance, and the little town of New Arabi was quiet, the only noise were the

sound of dogs barking, the far-away pops and bangs of the fireworks, and the whistling of the

cold winter wind.

"Olivia? Are you in there, Oli?" Fredrick called as he gently knocked upon a petal pink door that

was adorned with stickers of flowers, pictures of pop stars and little bunnies. He waited for a

minute until he heard the click of the door opening, and behind the door stood a yound girl- no, a

young woman, with platnium white hair in a pixie cut with colorful barrettes speckled across her

hair, eyes as green as a granny smith apple or the greenest blade of grass, wearing a white

button-up shirt and a loose black cardigan paired with a black pencil skirt and some white

knee-high socks and black shoes, completed with a green teardrop necklace that Fredrick had

given to her for her 13th birthday, an orange, white and pink kandi bracelet, and a pink and white

cane that stabilized her balance instead of her bad knee, which she had greatly injured in an

accident when she was 9. She looked at her father and smiled, to which Fredrick did the same

thing.

"You look beautiful, Oli! Are you excited for that party at that venue?" He asked her as he

pulled a sliver of hair off of her cardigan. Olivia smiled again and giggled, tapping her

pink-painted fingernails against the handle of her cane.

"Oh, I sure am, Pa! but.. I'm kinda nervous. See, theres this.. Boy.. at school, and i've been

wanting to ask him out for a while, and he's going to be at the party tonight, but im worried that

he'll think i'm weird, or that he'll call me a freak because of my cane.." she stuttered, looking

around the room briskly with her eyes darting from place to place. Fredrick sighed lightly, and

tried to comfort his daughter by gently patting her on the back.

"Hey, I believe in you. Even if he does say no, at least you know you asked him instead of living

the rest of your life asking yourself 'what if?', and if he does say something rude about your cane,

then he doesn't deserve you anyway, because if theres one thing I know, its that true love doesn't

care about canes or looks or anything like that." Fredrick tried to reassure her. Olivia nodded and

looked down, shaking ever so slightly.

"I-Its just.. all the popular girls keep staring at me and talking about me because of it, and my

hair, and my clothes, they think i'm a weirdo.." She whispered, choking back tears as she gripped

her cane tighter.

"Oli, in all the ten years that i've called you my daughter, I can say with utmost certainty that you

are not a weirdo. If anything, They're the weirdos for wanting to be like everyone else. I was the

weird kid too back in my day! Yeah, i was the kid who sat in the back of the library on his little

laptop laughing at memes with my best friend, your uncle Jonathan, and tinkering with robots

and all kinds of gizmos and gadgets and doodads! You wouldn't believe how many stares i got

from the jocks, and the teacher's pets, and the sporty girls- i hated it too! But i never let that get

in my way- and look at me now! Your old man used to be one of america's leading men in

science back in the 2020's!"

Olivia giggled.

"and think about it this way, You're 18 now, and soon, You'll be out of school and you probably

won't see any of them ever again-- You'll be running that soap and candle shop you always

wanted to run." Fredrick consoled as he looked into her eyes. Olivia smiled, and hugged her

father tightly with both arms, using the tippy-toes of her bad foot to balance herself as Fredrick

helped her keep balance. after around 3 minutes, Olivia pulled away, and Fredrick handed her

cane to her before looking over to the clock on the wall, which read half past eleven o'clock.

"Oh, Olivia, Its eleven thirty! That party should be starting soon-- You'd best be getting over

there!"

"Pa, don't you want to come? there's gonna be games and snacks and karaoke!" Olivia offered, to

which Fredrick grinned and shook his head.

"Oh, thank you, Oli, but I'll be just fine! I'm just going to be drinking some whiskey and

watching the ball drop on TV! Besides, I don't think your friends would want to see an old drunk

scientist bumbling around rambling about robots the whole time!" Fredrick chuckled. Olivia

snickered and playfully rolled her eyes.

"Alright, if you say so, Pa!" she giggled as she walked through the threshold of her door, fredrick

holding the door for her. they then walked into the living room, where the door that led out of the

Johanneson home lie.

"You have fun at that party now, Y'hear? don't worry about what those losers think!"

"Thank you, pa.." Olivia chirped as she got on her tippy-toes to give her father a familial peck on

the cheek. she then proceeded to open the door into the cold winter night, and as she walked

from the porch onto the sidewalk, Fredrick called out again.

"And No funny Buisness!" he shouted with a playful smile.

"No Funny Buisness here, Pa! Love you, I'll be back by one!" She called back before walking

down the sidewalk. Fredrick then closed and locked the door, and made way to the kitchen.

When he got to the kitchen, he pulled a liquor glass from the wooden cabinet above his head. It

was a crystal clear, round glass from before the war, with a black picture of a barn and the words

"Whiskey Co." stamped on the side. Of course, Whiskey Co. was not a real company, but the

nostalgia that the glass carried about it that screamed 1996 could almost convince you it once

was.

Fredrick then walked to another wooden cabinet that contained his liquors, and from the

selection he had of wines, scotches, gins and vodkas, he chose a bottle of Peanut Butter Whiskey,

with its dark amber substance encaged in its glass container, with an etching of a ram on the side

of the bottle.

Fredrick then closed the cabinet, satisfied with the selection he had made, and went back into the

living room to sit on his favorite chair, turning the television to channel 8, which was currently

running commercials such as New Orleans club singers singing about lawyers, folks selling

coffee and donuts, and other things. Fredrick, not paying attention to the senseless

advertisements on his screen, unscrewed the cap from the bottle of whiskey, letting the scent of

the dark liquid fill his senses before pouring a bit of it into his glass. He then took a sip before

quickly turning away, trying his best to not spit it out and ruin the rug. He succeeded, However,

and quickly swallowed.

"Agh, that isn't how i remember it tasting like.. oh well!" He mumbled to himself as the station

returns to coverage of the ball dropping in New York. He took another sip, this time not minding

the burning sensation that the whiskey created. as midnight drew closer, Fredrick drank more and

more, the warm burning sensation in his throat and stomach growing with each sip, until

eventually, he found himself becoming more tired and happy feeling. it felt as if he had just sat

down, but the clock read 11:58, 2 minutes to midnight. he then began counting down until the

final seconds of 2041.

3.. 2.. 1.

"H-Happy Neeew Year!!" Fredrick cheered as he took one last swig out of the bottle drunkenly,

cheering for the bright new year to come for him and his daughter. not a minute later, fredrick's

head began to feel swimmy as he began to see double from the unusual amount of alcohol he had

drank in such a short amount of time. in fact, he found that he could not even get off of his chair,

much less keep a grip on the bottle. it wouldn't be much time, before Fredrick had blacked out,

dropping the bottle.

After a while, Fredrick had finally reawakened. He slowly opened his eyes as to not blind

himself with the television, noticing that the station had gone off of the air for the night. He

looked down at his white tank top, which had been covered whiskey that had turned cold from

the winter air, and groaned to himself in misery, noticing how dry his mouth was.

"ugh.. d@mn it..!" he moaned and groaned as he got out of his chair, immediately catching his

balance on the armrest. His throat was so dry, it was a struggle to even speak. He walked to the

bathroom while leaning on the wall for support, and as he entered the room and trudged to the

sink, he looked into the mirror and was met by an older man in his early 40's, with hair as white

as powder, pine green eyes, a pointy nose that slanted down just a little, a white goatee, and

subtle frown lines and eye creases, wearing a whiskey-stained tank-top. He groaned in disgust at

his apperance, stroking his beard as he stared into the eyes of his reflection.

"Ugh, Fredrick, you look like h3ll! what happened to you, boy..?" he growled before filling a cup

full of water that came from a well. He drank it, beginning to feel better as the liquid coated his

throat. He then poured water upon his face, which woke him up almost immediately. He then

went into his bedroom, which was adorned with science awards given to him, CDs with punk

music within, and photos from his days as a robotical scientist, standing among his fellow

collegues, with light brown hair and goatee, and a smooth face. Not to mention photos of him

with his parents and his two brothers and one sister. He smiled to himself as he looked upon the

photos, and opened up his wooden closet to grab a clean tank top, taking off the dirty one and

throwing it into the dirty clothes basket. After that, he pulled it over his head and stretched his

back and arms. He looked over at the clock, and to his surprise, it was 2:12 in the morning. He

was surprised that he was only out for that long, as horrible as he had felt upon waking up. then,

he noticed that something did not feel right. the house felt emptier than usual...

Where was Olivia?

"Olivia? Oli, are you here?" He called out as he left his bedroom and turned the light off. he went

silent, expecting to hear a response, but only silence was heard.

"...Olivia!" He called again, only to be met with the same silence. His heart began to beat faster

as he made his way to her room, opening the door, anticipating seeing his daughter playing on

her pink handheld console or writing in her diary, but she was not there. In fact, the room looked

as if it had been untouched since she left. His heart dropped as he remembered that she said she

would be back by one, she usually made it a point to be at places at the exact time she said, and

this was very unusual for Olivia. He then ran into the living room to find that the television was

showing a breaking news story. "Breaking News, at this hour?", Fredrick thought to himself until he noticed the anxiety of the anchorman as he read the script, then, the header caught his eye,

and his heart sunk into the pit of his stomach.

"SPIKERS ATTACK WOODFORK VENUE NEW YEARS PARTY, 34 D3AD, 15 INJURED, 2

MISSING"

Fredrick then bolted for the telephone, his shaky hand slamming in the phone number- careless

as to whether or not the buttons would break, while the other hand held the reciever with an iron

grip that could possibly shatter the plastic if he was not careful.

"Pick up, pick up!" He cried as he heard the phone ringing, but the ringing was quickly cut short

by the busy signal, as the venue's phonelines were being jammed with calls. He redialed, but the

same 3-note oddity plaed over the speaker, sounding louder against the silence. He then

attempted to redial once again before he saw the flashing of red and blue lights outside the

window, and the knocking on the door a couple of seconds later. He opened the door slowly, to

find two police officers wearing tattered uniforms that were covered in bl00d, most likely their

own, and bandages.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Fredrick Johanneson, Father of Olivia Johanneson?" one skinny cop

with a bandaged eye and leg asked, holding his arm.

Fredrick nodded. "Yes, I'm him." He responded as he looked over into the officers' patrol car,

hoping to see Olivia in the back, but the car was empty. he looked back at the officers, who said

not a word. all that could be heard was the blowing of the frigid winter wind against his ears.

"Where is she? is she alright?" He asked. The skinny officer looked at the other officer, who was

burly and had bloody bandages wrapped around his belly and forearms. they then both looked at

Fredrick with a look of horror in their otherwise stone-cold faces, and the one-eyed officer spoke.

"When we arrived on scene, we found her slumped against the enterance with a giant gash in her

chest and her cane through the door handles along with other people. the paramedics tried their

best, but she lost too much blood in a short amount of time. I'm sorry, Mr. Johanneson... Your

daughter is dead."

Fredrick's blood ran cold, and his heart almost stopped. he clutched his chest in horror as reality

set in, and within seconds he found himself fighting back terror, sorrow, and rage. he wanted to

wring their necks so badly but he know it was no use, all that would do is get him arrested. it

took all his strength to not lunge at the cops in front of him, but instead he barked:

"Well where is she?! Take me to her!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Johanneson, but she was found to be contaminated with spiker venom, and she

was taken to the Carnagie Funeral Home in New Gonzales for decontamination." The burly cop

responded gently, noticing the animalistic rage in Fredrick's eyes. Fredrick said nothing, but

gripped one fist that was hidden out of sight until it was white.

"Mr. Johanneson, do you have any family you could stay with for support?" the bigger cop asked

as he checked his surroundings and handed Fredrick Olivia's death certificate. Fredrick shook his

head.

"No, not here. My family and older brother moved up to Gulfport after the war ended, and my

younger brother and sister were in Moscow when the bombs dropped and I haven't heard from

both of them since. Olivia was my only family." He responded, gritting his teeth.

"My condolences, sir. Do you have any friends that could stay with you?"

"....I have one best friend, Dr. Jonathan Min."

"Well do you think you could call them, ask him to come here?"

"Probably. He's most likely asleep, though." He growled as he went to the phone and dialed

Jonathan's number. after 10 seconds of ringing, a man in his late 30's with a slight Korean Accent

picked up.

"Min Residence."

"Hey, Jonathan. Its Fredrick."

"Oh H-Hey Fredrick! Whats going on? I just woke up to get some milk when you called!"

"Jon.. The Woodfork Venue was attacked by Spikers, and Olivia was one of the victims.."

Fredrick choked as he tried to keep his eyes from pouring tears. you could hear the sound of the

phone cord tapping the receiever rapidly from Jonathan shaking on the other end.

"Huh?! I-Is she okay?!" Johnathan asked with panic in his voice. Fredrick's then began to crack.

"No.. She's gone, Jonathan. Theres cops here and they won't leave until you come to the house."

Fredrick then heard nothing but silence on the other end, which was then inturrupted by the

sound of the reciever hitting the floor, and distant swearing and yelling in Korean, Jonathan's

first language. He then picked the reciever back up.

"Dear god... its all over the news! Its every station! 34?! ....Fredrick, I'm coming over. Don't go

with those cops! they'll probably try to do something to you, like put you in a nuthouse- so stay

where you are!"

"I wasn't planning on doing that, you know i don't like them any more than you do. I'll see you in

a bit."

click.

"He's on his way. Now, If you'll excuse me, I need to clean up. Good day."

"Sir, we need to stay with you until-"

"I said good day." he snarled as he picked up the whiskey bottle on the floor. after 20 minutes or

so, a dark brown car drove up into the drive way of the Johanneson Home, and out of the drivers

seat came a skinny, rectangle-figured korean man in his late 30's, with messy jet black hair,

coffee brown eyes, subtle dark circles under his eyes, thin blue round glasses, a thin

periwinkle-blue turtleneck, golden brown slacks, and a pair of black shoes. He walked up to the

house where the cops were standing outside talking.

"Are you Jonathan Min?" the one-eyed cop asked him.

"Yes, I'm Jonathan Min, Fredrick's Friend. He called me up here."

"Good. Well, we need to get back to the scene and notify other families. keep an eye out on Mr.

Johanneson, will you? Olivia's funeral is scheduled for noon tomorrow."

"Of course i will, he's my friend!" Jonathan responded as he walked away. The cops then got

back into their car and drove off, leaving Jonathan to open the door to find Fredrick sitting on his

couch, head in his hands.

"Fredrick..? I'm here..." Jonathan uttered in a gentle, soft tone that was reminiscent of a feather

brushing against skin. Fredrick said nothing, and instead waved, clearly still processing what

happened. Jonathan sat next to him, willing to offer an ear or a shoulder to cry on-- after all, thats

what friends do, they help their friends. He was there to let Fredrick let it all out, and by god, he

was going to be there for his childhood friend, just as he was there for him in their younger days.

some hours would go by where fredrick would say nothing, or sometimes he'd cry a waterfall,

other times he cursed Russia and spikers, and spouting profanities while doing so, and

eventually, they would be talking about their scientist days in the 2020's.

"I remember Project Prometheus like it was Yesterday. The fact that we made soldiers better,

gave veterans their limbs and life back, and even found out how to preserve memories and

consciousness in computers was amazing in and of itself!" Fredrick pondered with a wistful

smile on his face.

"I remember how excited you were when the first subject was successful. Heh, you became a big

household name within days, huh? you even got an award, and a cool little mug!"

"Yeah.. heh, sure did, Jon.. wait.. THATS IT!"

"Thats what?" Jonathan asked while tilting his head, startled at the sudden shift in Fredrick's

mood.

"THATS It! We can bring her back with cybernetics and computers! all we need is the memory

needles, cybernetic parts, computer parts, and other things! and where do we have those? The

Lab in Baton Rouge!"

"Y-You mean the one we used to work at 20 years ago? Fredrick, didn't Baton Rouge get

Cluster-bombed to hell and back? It should've been blown to smithereens!" Jonathan asked, both

terrified and intrigued by Fredrick's macabre idea.

"Ahh, thats where you're wrong, Jon! It was actually built to double as a fallout shelter too, so it's

resistant to blasts! at least, thats what the director said."

"Really? I didn't know that, and I worked there for about as long as you did!.. So what is your

plan, anyway?"

"The plan is that tomorrow after Olivia's funeral, we'll go to your house and get your shovels and

your big ice chest, i'll put it in my truck, and we retrieve her and drive all the way to baton

rouge!"

"Alright, not going to lie, that is a pretty nice plan for being pulled out of the blue, but Fredrick,

are you sure you want to do this? its going to be really grisly, and we'll be doing things that most

normal wouldn't even think about doing.. like graverobbing. You'll be robbing your own daughter's

grave." Jonathan whispered.

"Yes, i'm very sure! I'm going to bring her back one way or another!" Fredrick nodded.

"Alright then.. its late, and they said that her funeral is at noon tomorrow.. Man, I hate those cops

and their "Common Law" Bullcrap! We can't even plan our own folk's funerals on our own now!

cops were never good, but dear lord, they weren't THIS bad!"

"Oh trust me, i do too.. I miss Pre-apocolypse America. suprising, i know... Well, I suppose i'll

get a shower and change into something presentable for the funeral. I'll be right back." Fredrick

said before heading to his bathroom to take a shower and change. To past the time, Jonathan

picked up a book off of his coffee table titled "The History of Robot Dogs".

it would be 30 or so minutes before Fredrick returned, wearing a yellow dress-shirt and espresso

brown slacks paired with a tie as red as blood and dark brown dress-shoes. Jonathan smiled at the

choice of his attire, as nowdays it was discouraged to dress in black to a funeral because you

could be confused for a spiker, especially at night, when spikers like to dig up graves to eat the

remains.

"Hey, Nice outfit. Haven't seen you wear that shirt and tie since my Aunt Juno's wedding!"

Jonathan chuckled.

"Thank you. I'm suprised it still fits me!" he responded with a grin as he dusted off his chest and

stretched his back until it popped. He then looked out the window through the curtains, the sky

still dark as pitch, only lit by the streetlamps and the moon up above. Jonathan, however, was

still unsure of whether fredrick's grand plan was a good idea. While the thought of cybernetic

ressurection was fascinating, he pondered if it would help them or lead them to ruin.

"Fredrick... before we carry out that plan, are you sure you want to do this? What if we get

caught, or what if we make some mistake that ends up k1lling people? And wouldn't people

wonder where we are?" He asked, trying to keep his inner fear hidden. Fredrick huffed, and

turned towards him, nodding.

"Jonathan, I assure you that we will not get caught. Besides, we'll only get olivia from the

graveyard, no one else. We'll also need subjects, and I know the Carnagie brothers in New

Gonzales will help. they have to, they were our collegues!" He reasoned with a stern whisper.

Jonathan nodded, accepting this strange answer out of his friend.

"Now, all we do is wait, and it will all fall into place." Fredrick Sighed.