07-18-2023, 09:25 PM
Letters from the Devil
Savannah Martinez stepped off the subway, her music playing loudly in her ears through headphones as she made her way out of the station and down the street to her apartment in Buttercity. After she’d reached her limit and given the police information on WOE, she’d become the target of so much harassment from the activist community in Costeno that she’d packed up her life and moved north to the capital.
In a funny twist of fate, Irene Ramos had needed a new flatmate when her previous one reached a limit with Irene’s newfound night terrors. And thus, the two former admin specialists of the non-violent parts of WOE ended up living together. Both of them shared a resentment for their former colleagues which they’d bonded over. While Irene’s exit from WOE had been far more traumatic, Savannah also had learned just how little WOE cared for the welfare of their members.
Savannah had given up activism and gotten a job helping to digitise old records for the local authority in the Buttercity area. It was mostly local tax records from the 1960s, which was boring and seemed pointless, but boring was exactly what she wanted. Something mundane and safe, that nobody cared about in the least. Something that made people’s eyes glaze over during small talk when she mentioned her occupation.
She climbed the stairs and unlocked her front door, only to stop and stare at Irene. The other woman was on disability benefits while being treated for severe PTSD, and spent most of her days at home watching repeats of children’s television shows to numb her brain to her thoughts. But today she was sitting on her floor, frantically writing what seemed to be an essay. Around her was a pile of books and opened mail.
“Irene? Are you okay?” Savannah asked.
“No, I need to finish this, I shouldn’t have ignored the other letters! I need to send it as soon as I can! I can’t let, I can’t, I need to finish!” Irene said, speaking almost too quickly to understand.
Savannah walked over and picked up one of the books. “The Dangers of Weak Government,” she read aloud from the title. She looked at a second book. “Male Violence in Policy Making.” Another. “Gynarchy: Essential for World Peace.” Another. “Upholding the Legacy of Empress Camaxtica. Irene, what is this?”
Irene did not answer, continuing to scribble furiously. Savannah picked her way through the pile until she reached the letters next to a set of ripped open package envelopes. First, she looked at the envelopes. They were marked with foreign postal stamps, customs notices, and more all layered on top of each other. Some of it was in a language Savannah didn’t understand. She glanced at Irene as she reached for the letters, but Irene didn’t seem to care that her flatmate was openly snooping.
Savannah picked up the first letter.
A cold shiver ran through Savannah’s spine as she picked up the second letter.
Savannah braced herself for the third.
“Irene…” Savannah began, looking over at her flatmate. “Are you really doing what she asks? Why didn’t you take this to the police?”
“Do you honestly think that the Lauchenoirian police can protect me!?” Irene said, looking up from her essay. “Do you really think our government will do anything beyond some useless statement? And when she finds out I told them – which she will, do you know what she’d do?”
Savannah didn’t have a response. Irene was right. The Lauchenoirian authorities were woefully – no pun intended – unprepared for the threat Xiomera posed. They’d done nothing about the kidnappings of Irene and Clay last time; so why should Irene believe they’d do anything if something similar happened? There was a general unease about Xiomera within Lauchenoiria now. People liked to pretend that the Golden Sun Empire didn’t exist. After all, what you can’t see can’t hurt you.
Except it could. It could hurt you, and it had hurt Irene in ways that would probably never heal – both physical and mental. Savannah didn’t have a response because she believed the threat in the letter. If Xiomera wanted to send people to Lauchenoiria to do whatever they wanted, they would, and they’d probably get away with it too. The international community had barely reacted to the kidnappings before; blaming it on Lauchenoiria for not cracking down on WOE quickly enough.
Lauchenoiria was too weak to do anything about Xiomera, and the international community simply seemed not to care what happened to Lauchenoirians. Perhaps, then, Irene was right. The only way she could keep herself safe was to do whatever Mariya Adema asked, physically present or otherwise.
Savannah Martinez stepped off the subway, her music playing loudly in her ears through headphones as she made her way out of the station and down the street to her apartment in Buttercity. After she’d reached her limit and given the police information on WOE, she’d become the target of so much harassment from the activist community in Costeno that she’d packed up her life and moved north to the capital.
In a funny twist of fate, Irene Ramos had needed a new flatmate when her previous one reached a limit with Irene’s newfound night terrors. And thus, the two former admin specialists of the non-violent parts of WOE ended up living together. Both of them shared a resentment for their former colleagues which they’d bonded over. While Irene’s exit from WOE had been far more traumatic, Savannah also had learned just how little WOE cared for the welfare of their members.
Savannah had given up activism and gotten a job helping to digitise old records for the local authority in the Buttercity area. It was mostly local tax records from the 1960s, which was boring and seemed pointless, but boring was exactly what she wanted. Something mundane and safe, that nobody cared about in the least. Something that made people’s eyes glaze over during small talk when she mentioned her occupation.
She climbed the stairs and unlocked her front door, only to stop and stare at Irene. The other woman was on disability benefits while being treated for severe PTSD, and spent most of her days at home watching repeats of children’s television shows to numb her brain to her thoughts. But today she was sitting on her floor, frantically writing what seemed to be an essay. Around her was a pile of books and opened mail.
“Irene? Are you okay?” Savannah asked.
“No, I need to finish this, I shouldn’t have ignored the other letters! I need to send it as soon as I can! I can’t let, I can’t, I need to finish!” Irene said, speaking almost too quickly to understand.
Savannah walked over and picked up one of the books. “The Dangers of Weak Government,” she read aloud from the title. She looked at a second book. “Male Violence in Policy Making.” Another. “Gynarchy: Essential for World Peace.” Another. “Upholding the Legacy of Empress Camaxtica. Irene, what is this?”
Irene did not answer, continuing to scribble furiously. Savannah picked her way through the pile until she reached the letters next to a set of ripped open package envelopes. First, she looked at the envelopes. They were marked with foreign postal stamps, customs notices, and more all layered on top of each other. Some of it was in a language Savannah didn’t understand. She glanced at Irene as she reached for the letters, but Irene didn’t seem to care that her flatmate was openly snooping.
Savannah picked up the first letter.
Quote:Ministry of Loyalty,Tepilcayotl Memorial ComplexTlālacuetztla001 99930 May 2023
Dear Irene,
I do hope you’re re-adjusting to normal life after your little vacation in Xiomera. I did enjoy spending time with you, and reading your analysis of the books I lent you. In fact, I did so enjoy your analyses that I have enclosed a number of texts I’d love to hear your thoughts on. Please do get back to me when you have the chance! I’ve enclosed a pre-paid envelope as I know how low incomes are in Lauchenoiria, and your government’s unfair charges on exports to Xiomera.
Yours truly,
Mariya Adema
A cold shiver ran through Savannah’s spine as she picked up the second letter.
Quote:Ministry of Loyalty,Tepilcayotl Memorial ComplexTlālacuetztla001 99917 June 2023
Dear Irene,
I noticed you have yet to respond to my last letter. I understand how difficult the adjustment period is, but I assure you getting back into a routine is a very important part of the process. I know how much you enjoyed your reading on your vacation, so I do hope you’ll get back into it soon. Also, as an early birthday gift, I got you a gift subscription to Matriarchy Monthly: Deluxe International Edition where you get a magazine alongside a book and some goodies from Kerlile each month! It’s super expensive in Lauchenoiria because of your government’s silly sanctions. Hope you enjoy!
Yours truly,
Mariya
Savannah braced herself for the third.
Quote:Ministry of Loyalty,Tepilcayotl Memorial ComplexTlālacuetztla001 99902 July 2023
Dear Irene,
It hurts me to think you have forgotten me. Perhaps a subscription to the Xiomeran Citizens’ Party magazine will help! These things are so hard to get in Lauchenoiria. Anyway, I do hope you’re ok. Please don’t make me come to Lauchenoiria to check up on you!
Yours,
Mariya
“Irene…” Savannah began, looking over at her flatmate. “Are you really doing what she asks? Why didn’t you take this to the police?”
“Do you honestly think that the Lauchenoirian police can protect me!?” Irene said, looking up from her essay. “Do you really think our government will do anything beyond some useless statement? And when she finds out I told them – which she will, do you know what she’d do?”
Savannah didn’t have a response. Irene was right. The Lauchenoirian authorities were woefully – no pun intended – unprepared for the threat Xiomera posed. They’d done nothing about the kidnappings of Irene and Clay last time; so why should Irene believe they’d do anything if something similar happened? There was a general unease about Xiomera within Lauchenoiria now. People liked to pretend that the Golden Sun Empire didn’t exist. After all, what you can’t see can’t hurt you.
Except it could. It could hurt you, and it had hurt Irene in ways that would probably never heal – both physical and mental. Savannah didn’t have a response because she believed the threat in the letter. If Xiomera wanted to send people to Lauchenoiria to do whatever they wanted, they would, and they’d probably get away with it too. The international community had barely reacted to the kidnappings before; blaming it on Lauchenoiria for not cracking down on WOE quickly enough.
Lauchenoiria was too weak to do anything about Xiomera, and the international community simply seemed not to care what happened to Lauchenoirians. Perhaps, then, Irene was right. The only way she could keep herself safe was to do whatever Mariya Adema asked, physically present or otherwise.
LIDUN President 2024 | she/her | Puppets: Kerlile, Glanainn, Yesteria, Zongongia, Zargothrax