It was the year 2042 and everybody in America was happy. They had no reason to be; America had virtually every single job outsourced to other countries and thus what was once a glorious nation was now being puppeteered by every powerful nation in the world. The world needed to be fixed, and America was now the tool to fix it. And the world had plenty of problems in 2042, especially in America. Most gasoline-powered cars had fallen out of use for extremely expensive electric and hydrogen-powered vehicles that were far too expensive for most people to own. This meant that few people had the option to commute to work, but of course this wasn't much of an issue anyway because of outsourcing and nobody was working.
So why was everybody so happy? Well, happy wasn't the right word. People simply stopped caring. Because thanks to the miracles of Universal Healthcare and the advancements in the fields of Brain Biology and such, everybody was diagnosed with one mental inconsistency or another that always led to trouble. But alas, no need to fear; now the mentally ill could have the government racing to diagnose and help them cope with their crippling imperfections, no matter how natural they might've been. From the moment that a child's mind started to rapidly develop at the age of three, they would undergo medical conditioning to help keep their unstable little minds functioning at a healthy level. By the time the child was ten, he was under enough mood stabilizers and mental inhibitors that they would sedate a large bull elephant in heat if it wasn't given time to build up a reasonable tolerance. The children growing up well through Elementary and High School carried around what looked like a bag of Skittles or Chex Mix, always making sure that they were never off of them for too long, lest they saw The End.
By law, everybody had to stay medicated constantly because of The End. The End was the only drawback to being under all these medications. It was a terrifying prospect that was ambiguous that nobody really knew about, but it always led to death. Well, "terrifying" wasn't the right word since everybody was too emotionally numb to feel fear, but it was something to be weary of since a case of deadness certainly impeded on one's right to live. So The End manifested itself in a variety of ways through the years. Most believed that it was the Government sending agents out to punish people who weren't deemed mentally suitable to function in society since they weren't on their medications
Some people thought otherwise, though. Some people thought The End was a tool used by an urban legend. A tool that the infamous "Johnny The Murderer" used to kill people, because he was sharp. He could tell when people weren't on their mood stabilizers and mental inhibitors. He lived long before the Universal Mood Stabilization Program was put into effect, and knew how people acted when they were imperfect minds. And thus being the brutish thug he was, he took advantage of them in their splintered and horrible state of mind by robbing them, raping them, killing them, or some combination of the three to his liking. Nobody knew if he was still killing or if he was long dead because when Johnny The Murderer started killing and when The End started killing was never entirely clear. But both were enough to make people certain to keep on their medications to avoid either or.
Except Marcus Bogart. He was a rambunctious young teenager who often had to be forced and restrained by his parents to take his medication. For you see, Marcus was a particularly volatile child growing up; his mind was splintered in many places that made him loony and unstable. He's currently one of the most heavily-sedated teenagers at his High School just so they can keep him under control, but for his freshman and sophomore year they had to keep upping his dosage so he wouldn't snap and try to set the school on fire again because he thought it was a more effective way of cleaning the halls out.
"It's a more effective way of cleaning the halls out." he said while sweeping the halls. He was on detention duty for taking his medication a half hour late during class.
"There won't be any halls left, Marcus." one the pudgy students assisting him stated in a sluggish and unenthusiastic manner. His name was Charlie.
"Well I don't feel like going to school anymore, so it makes sense."
"You have to go to school, Marcus. School will help you get smarter in life."
"I'm smart enough."
"Do you know what The End is?" he asked.
"Why would I want to?"
"Because it's something you don't know. And it's something to be conscious of since it's capable of killing you. Maybe you should learn what The End is." This almost took a bit of the smug arrogance out of Marcus's voice.
"...But nobody's learned what The End was and lived to tell about it." he said apprehensively.
"Well if you're so big and tough, what makes you think that you can't?" As big and tough and smart as Marcus was, he was also simple-minded and easily tricked like an oaf.
"Well fuck you then, I guess I'll figure out what The End is, then." That was all it took. Really, it was. He continued to sweep in silence for the rest of the day, muttering unintelligible insults that were best left incoherent for virgin ears. When the third bell rang, it meant it was time for all students to take their medications, with staff nearby watching the students. They especially kept an eye on Marcus Bogart, who liked to abstain from doing so whenever he could to irritate the staff.
"Have you taken your inhibitors yet, Marcus?" one of the hall monitors asked him.
"No sir I have not."
"And why is that?"
"Because I want to see The End." There were collective gasps throughout the hallway from what they heard. Strained, tired and vaguely interested gasps.
"Marcus you foolish child, why would you want that?" Even when shocked, the hall monitor's voice had a benign ring to it.
"Because I don't know what it is, and I want to know," was his honest response.
"Marcus, that's ridiculous. Take your medication now." He tried to sound threatening, but he didn't.
"No." And with a shove, he knocked the hall monitor out of the way and raced through the halls. In most situations relevant to the past, a child would easily be caught if he tried escaping from school. Marcus was strong and powerful, and his stamina and energy wasn't influenced strongly by the emotional suppressors he was frequently on. The faculty of the school was, much to his benefit as they stumbled and yelled and tripped over themselves like drunk tired dogs trying to catch the young man.
When he finally made it outside, he was panting and wheezing from exhaustion. He was shaking and trembling a bit, slightly smug after escaping the school.
"I knew they couldn't catch me." But now he didn't know what to do with himself, he breathed heavily from overworking his body under the effects of the inhibitors, and he eventually slumped over and passed out.
"Is he awake? Good, it looks like he's coming to." Marcus opened his eyes and he was in the woods outside the school. A disheveled man stood above him. He was dirty, unshaven, and looked as if he only owned the set of clothes he was currently wearing. He had two or three similar degenerates lurking around Marcus as they watched him regain consciousness.
"...Where am I?" Marcus inquired.
"In the middle of the woods, where the fuck does it look like we are?" the old man's voice had a sarcastic vulgar rust in his throat. "Are you feeling better yet?" Marcus sat up and shook himself off. He was a bit paranoid and nervous.
"Who are you and why am I here?" he asked.
"That's just rude. You passed out and I saved you from being captured by the school staff. Show some damn gratitude."
"Why?"
"...You want to see it, don't you?" the old man asked. Marcus grew a bit defensive.
"......See what?"
"I can see it in your eyes. Their control on you is weakening, isn't it?" Marcus paused for a second. His heart immediately started racing. He began to panic.
"Y-y-you're Jo--"
"Johnny's my name."
"Y-you're going to kill me, aren't you?" His fear began to swell.
"Who knows, I might. I've killed a lot of people. Can't say that another kid would make much of a difference, eh?" Marcus immediately tried getting to his feet to run, but he was trembling so violently that he collapsed to the ground. He could do nothing but stare at Marcus with terrified eyes.
"P-please don't kill me, I'm just a kid..." he meekly replied.
"You have no idea what's going on, do you? Look at you, kid. You're shaking so much that you'll piss your pants."
"K-K-KEEP AWAY!" he yelled as he backed up against a tree. But Johnny was right, because Marcus soiled himself there on the spot, something the tree probably didn't enjoy. Johnny started laughing with a twisted grin on his face.
"It's all foreign to you, ain't it?" Johnny asked him, leaning in. Marcus regressed. "You ain't never felt something like this before, have you? You're so giddy that you can hardly control yourself." Marcus's face was going pale as he hyperventilated more. He couldn't speak anymore.
"But it's normal, you know? It's pretty shocking, but it's normal. I ain't been on that shit for decades, but now I'm normal."
"I-I-I don't want to be normal," Marcus choked out.
"Yeah, you probably won't. You'll probably die, kid." Marcus's heart went into a panic as he saw Johnny pull out a gun and point it at him.
"Kid, here's what you want to see. If you can see this and beat it, then maybe you're one of the few that can help us shake this whole globalized funk off." Marcus's mind started racing with emotions as he stared down at the gun barrel. But as he caught that, he started to smile, and he started to laugh a bit in epiphany. Johnny smiled back.
"Yeah, that's what I like to see." He pulled the trigger, and as soon as Marcus heard that loud click, his heart seized up and he slumped to the ground, and his life was no longer his own. Johnny sighed.
"Well shit, there's the end of another one." One of his assistants came up behind him.
"Guess he wasn't good enough either, boss."
"Guess not. Let's go home and wait for another one to get loose and see if he can survive it, too."
