ASBO-Boy - Unleash the Hounds: Part 1

October 27th 1016

Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael.

“One good deed. Just one, and you will be redeemed of all your sins. Your ASBO will be revoked and you will be free to hold your head up high and rejoin civilised society.”

Michael was standing in a long white hall, lined up with all of the other inmates of Sandfields Borstal. Before them, a tall man in a long, pearl-white coat was pacing up and down. In front of him was a black line on the floor separating him from them.

“Joining the Hounds constitutes that One Good Deed, boys and girls. It is your ticket out of here. Once upon a time you’d have been asked to reform your ways and beg God’s forgiveness. But who is God? He can’t offer you a pardon and the chance of a bright and prosperous future. Don’t delude yourselves. The Hounds are the only way that Positive Others are excused and re-integrated into society. Do you think decent, normal human beings want to be plagued by deviant miscreants with all sorts of curious and disgusting deformities? No. Of course they don’t. They want to be re-assured that their tax-payers money is keeping their streets safe.”

The man was swaggering and bellowing at the top of his voice. Michael watched as his mouth moved, spitting and drooling like a dog. Vaguely he remembered having a dog once.

“Those who wish to come with me and reform themselves may step over the black line.”

Zombie-like the inmates began to cross the line. Michael looked up and down the rows. He wanted to cross the line too but there was something holding him back. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been in here. The endless white walls and one-piece black skin-suits seemed to blur all memories together. Day and night – black and white – he felt his mind slipping, when he thought he had a memory – a laugh, a joke, a story – it all seemed to collapse. He couldn’t remember who had told it, where they’d been or if it had ever happened.

He felt his hands clenching as he struggled to remember it. There’s something in the air, the food, the water. Something about this place that gets to you.

Who had said that? He felt the muscles on his face bunching up, he was going to cry, he knew it. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done that. Why wouldn’t his legs move? Why couldn’t he cross the line – that’d make it all go away. He wanted to get out, to move on, to have a bright and prosperous future. Didn’t he?

Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael. Your name is Michael.

Wiping his eyes with the coarse rubber sleeve, he forced his legs to take a step forward towards the line. A hand gripped his arm from behind and he turned. It was Bark. The lonely black boy with the stern, dark eyes.

“Don’t do it.” He rumbled. He looked sad and more lonely than ever. Michael wondered why. Vaguely he remembered that Bark was different to the others. They had shared a room once?

“You once told me the Hounds were the real scum.” Bark muttered.

“Did I?”

Bark shook his head sadly and let go of Michael’s arm.

Without the resistance his legs took him straight over the line towards the man in the long white coat and the flock of other kids surrounding him. His arms were wide open – he was flickering in the light. He was a hologram, Michael mused. Doors were opening in the walls – a disembodied voice was directing them through it. Michael found his legs following the instructions.

In the next room a group of white-coated men were handing out labels and new skin-suits. A tag was dropped around his neck and a bundle shoved into his arms. Another voice led him onwards. There, he joined a queue with the other kids. Above them the voice boomed.

“You have chosen to correct your mistakes and re-order your life. By joining the Hounds you are making the streets you once plagued a safer place for the law abiding citizens of our city. You have just been handed a new identity tag and a new skin-suit. Unlike your old skin-suit, this one will enhance your Otherness and help you control your abilities. Over the coming months you will be trained and guided towards using your particular talents responsibly.”

Michael looked down at the name on his skin-suit. It read: Squeeze. The word seemed to trigger something in his mind. A shadow passed over his shoulder. He looked around and saw Bark standing there holding a similar bundle. He smiled weakly and Michael felt comforted. He wished he could remember who Bark was…

“Your training will be hard, but rewarding. We look forward to honing your skills so that you can better serve society. There is no reason to be afraid. Soon you will be working to build the future.”

They were led out down a corridor and into a cold, blinding space. Michael began to shiver, his eyes were blinded by the change in environment. Behind him he heard Bark laughing. It sounded like thunder. They were outside in the fresh air. Mike felt his mind unclogging – all the pistons in his head begin to work. He began to remember things, terrible things; he didn’t feel like laughing. He just felt like crying.