After the revitalization, most true humans were altered, under the guise of a chip implant. It was designed to increase the average IQ of the patient, which was the major selling point that the global government, Terra, distributed to the territories of Earth. Unbeknownst to the people who received the implant, they sacrificed their free will, and with that, their humanity. The way the implant worked was through increasing the amount of subservience a human was willing to put forth, all the while making them believe they still had free will. An unknown side effect was that the implant changed the pigment in their eyes to blue. Only those who rejected the mandatory implant, and went underground into hiding, would see their lack of free will. That was how those who received the implant became known as the “sheep”. It was a fitting term represented by safety but lacking freedom.

Ten years ago it was made illegal to deny the implant and the government released specially trained hunters to track down true humans. Those who hunted the people without implants were known as wolves.

***

Pink and blue neon reflected off the murky puddles covering the bustling street. A mass of people moved back and forth, like a school of fish, conducting their irrelevant business at an unnerving speed. Red walked nonchalantly down the street, seemingly an absent observer of all the commotion occurring in front of her. Rundown buildings crowded her peripheral vision, adding to the ominous aura this street proposed to her. The windows of the building reflected the crowd of people in the low night light, creating the perception that there were more people there than actuality. The stomps of footsteps and bubble of astray conversation crowded her eardrums as she attempted to dissect one conversation from the other, trying to learn something about these sheep who mattered so little to her. Sunglasses covered her eyes, revealing nothing about her path of vision to these strangers. The blue eyes of the sheep around her seemed to swallow her up, attempting to unearth the truth about herself, a truth that not many people knew. The sunglasses hid more than her line of vision, they hid her brown eyes. Those brown eyes were a dead giveaway, revealing her true identity; those brown eyes separated the people from the sheep.

A recurring question stirred in Red’s mind, “Is safety worth the sacrifice of freedom and free will?” It was a question she could never quite answer. She often tried to remind herself that suffering is a part of being alive and conscious, so to be truly human was to suffer to the extent of our own awareness. “But what are we aware of?” She thought, quickly spiraling down a rabbit hole of metaphysical and epistemological ideas. Red was brought back to Earth when she noticed a pink reflection dimly flickering in the window, distorted by the raindrops slinking down. As she turned around to decode the reflection, she saw her meeting point. A bright pink sign labeled “XXX” with an arrow pointing towards a doorway directly underneath the sign.

The doorway was like a portal into another dimension. A dark door opened onto a hallway of lights rimming the walls and ceiling, flickering due to age. Red walked forwards in a daze, seemingly walking backward due to the flash of lights. It wasn’t a flash though, it was like a wave, a wave of electricity following over the body of anyone who dared enter this place of dark sexuality.

The aspect of love has been removed entirely from sex in places like this. Again, Red was reminded of the fall of humanity, if one could even say humanity anymore. “This isn’t sex,” she whispered to herself, “Sex is about beauty, sex is about connection, sex is the ability to express the idea of love physically. Although love sadly isn’t a trait anymore when concerning the sheep. Sex allows their obedience to continue.”

The tunnel opened up to reveal a massive room separated into smaller opaque rooms, where one could barely make out a dim lamp and a bed and the intertwined bodies that lay amidst. Occasionally a hand or breast would appear on the walls, allowing any bystander to see more clearly. Red made her way over to what looked to be a receptionist. Her blue eyes and dark grey, almost purple, bags beneath them, told more of a story than she could ever verbalize. Her blonde hair was abruptly stopped by black roots slowly growing back at the top of her head. A body ordained in a loose, skimpy, beaded top and skirt stood with bad posture and a certain sag that only years of repetition could show.

“Hi there,” Red asked the scantily clad woman, “I have an appointment with a woman here who goes by Indigo… Is she expecting me?”

“Ah yes, you must be Red,” The woman responded, “You are very lucky, Indigo is an eccentric woman who is usually quite hard to book. You can meet her in the very back room.”

Red began walking towards the back room, which seemed much farther away than she anticipated, through small corridors lined with more opaque rooms on either side. The sounds of sex seeped through the walls and penetrated Red’s ears, shivering her bones. After what seemed to be an eternity, she reached the backroom where Scarlet was. Red cautiously opened the door to reveal a woman sitting on the bed cross-legged, in an almost meditative state. Upon hearing the door open, the woman turned around to introduce herself to Red. Red was taken aback as she saw the unmistakably blue eyes that frightened her so much. Clearly, this apprehension was visible as the woman acknowledged it.

“Hi there, I’m Scarlet, it’s nice to finally meet you in the flesh! And please, don’t worry about my eyes, I was born naturally with blue eyes, which is nice because it helps me blend in, unlike you I assume…” It was at this point Red realized she was still wearing her glasses, which may have seemed rather suspicious. She quickly took them off and put them away. “Oh my, brown eyes are so beautiful,” Continued Scarlet, “I am envious.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Red muttered hastily, “but listen, I don’t have much time, there’s a wolf following me. I haven’t seen him yet, but I know he’s out there tracking me. So please, give me the basket.”

Scarlet waited for a few seconds, then responded, “Alright, alright, here it is,” and she passed it over. “Do not lose this chip, Red; it is necessary for my survival just as much as it is for yours. Please, be careful in your trek to grandma’s house through this vast, modern forest.”

“Thank you,” Red put on her sunglasses as she turned to leave.

This basket was no ordinary basket you brought to a picnic. The basket was a code name for a computer chip capable of wiping away any strings to lead back to Red’s life and her crimes as a non-implanter. It wasn’t just helpful for Red though, this chip was capable of wiping away the data of all non-implanters, like Scarlet. For this reason, Red was the most important person to the free-thinkers and the most dangerous to those who desired to control free will.

Stillness is extremely noticeable in a crowd of shifting people. Red was all too aware of this when she noticed a man, watching her with suspicion, as she exited the building. The bustling street hid his intentions to others, but his immense solidarity screamed like a banshee to her. His blue eyes stabbed into her, like an icicle just waiting to fall. His hair seemed impossibly grey as if it was replaced with strands of cold, sharp steel. His clothes were not anything special, just the usual dreary rags that any sheep would adorn. “If the clothes were his attempt at a wolf hiding in sheep’s clothing, he failed miserably,” she thought. It was not his fault though, as he was too cold and calculating to be one of the sheep. Without a doubt, she knew he was the wolf.

She put her hood on, pulling it as far down as she could while still maintaining clear visibility, and walked briskly, venturing further into the forest of buildings and concrete. The footsteps behind her trumpeted much louder than usual because this time they echoed with the silence of the unknowing. She needed to get to Grandma’s house, which wasn’t actually a grandmother’s house, but a safe house with the equipment needed to input the chip into Terra’s servers. There was also the technician, whose real name is unknown, but operates under the code name Grandma. Moreover, everything about Grandma is unknown: her look, her gender, her height, her eye color.

Red rushed through the streets, as quickly as she could casually walk. She walked down alleys and streets that time had forgotten. Suffering had swept through these long-dismissed streets
similar to the likes of a hurricane. But what was lacking was that fight, that innate strength humans possess to combat situations of prejudice, inequality, and situations that dismiss the
pursuit of happiness. Rats scurried about the streets burrowing into their houses of garbage. Humans rested on the floor of this new age forest; their butts’ wet with filth, and their hands
clutching whatever objects held any sort of monetary value. Their faces sank into themselves, grown stiff and stale from a lack of smiling. They acted with no drive, only
completing the most menial of job tasks to satisfy the person above them. This ladder system seemingly went on forever, with the person at the top rung a mere concept, no longer represented by flesh and bone.

Skulking around this mess of collectivism, was Red, using the mess of mindless bodies as helpful hiding spots. At last, she arrived at her destination, Grandma’s house. She didn’t know
what she expected, something out of the ordinary maybe. But upon her arrival, it proved to be just the same as any of the other million small apartments in this forest. She walked up to the metal
door, as wood was too scarce nowadays, and knocked three times. The door opened, and she expected to see this mystical figure in front of her, almost glowing with uncertainty. But there
was no one to be seen, just a dimly lit staircase crawling up into oblivion. “Fuck me this is it,” Red whispered under her breath, stepping over through the door frame and thus sealing her fate.

A crowded room greeted her upstairs, wires were strewn all over the place, and lights blinked inadvertently. The smell was what hit her first. Up until this point, she didn’t realize the word
mechanical had a smell, but this was it. “But is it a smell?” she thought, as she began to taste cold metal on her tongue. What was next was the sound. A fury of bees swarmed over her ears and
down into her stomach, so calmly powerful she felt almost sick. And then she realized the enormity of this situation. So vast it was like dying while alive. Memories rushed into her head;
memories of running, of crying, of pain all came forth. Like a sponge being squeezed out, these past anguishes flooded out of her body as she struggled to maintain balance, using a table to grab hold onto.

“Careful there,” a voice shone through the haze, “You really don’t want to break that, especially at a time like now.” Red thought that the inclusion to this remark was rather peculiar. The man hid under a hood in the darkness of a corner, his features concealed.

“There is no time other than now” was her response, “but thank you for warning me.”

“You must be the messenger. You probably know me as Grandma, but I think I would be better suited as Grandpa,” he remarked.

“You probably would.”

“Mmm, I must thank you for the unique role you’ve played in all of this,” he spoke.

This remark sparked her interest. It pulled on a hook in her brain that said something was not as it seemed. Only through her years of running had she learned this quality. Her eyes darted
around the room, looking for the place where the chip belonged. Immediately she found it, a small computer with the hard drive open, awaiting placement. But she kept looking around as if
to signify confusion and indetermination, feeling his eyes watching from the anonymity of darkness in which he hid.

“You must be confused; all of this computer stuff is very complicated and requires a lot of time to learn,” he said, attempting to clear the air of foreboding.

“Slightly yes. But more so just anxious to complete this,” She admitted.

“Alright well let me grab some supplies from the other room and we’ll finally finish this.”

As he left, she began to look around, and found another door on the left side of the room, presumably a storage cabinet, but when she opened the door, she unearthed the answer to her uneasiness. In front of her was a lifeless body, still with color from being alive minutes before. As she turned him over, her body froze in shock. Before her was a man of similar stature to the
one she was just with but with one crucial feature missing: his eyes. All that remained of them were two black holes in his face. The blood turned black as it dried and was almost reflective.
Red looked at herself through the most abhorrent mirror. “Is this all worth it?” A voice called out, noticeably closer than last time. Clearly, the wolf was here and responsible for this tragedy of
real human death. Red felt needles of fear shoot up her spine as she stiffened in her place, not wanting to turn around and see those horribly blue eyes.

“Is what worth it?” She returned.

“The running. The never-ending hunt you put yourself in. The fear of stepping out in public. The terror of footsteps behind you, but too nervous to turn around and see who it truly is.” Red thought back to earlier when his description provided such an accurate reasoning of her journey to this place.

“Were those his footsteps,” she thought, “Or were they just some sheep going about their business, oblivious to my true nature?” His question posed legitimate truth to her life, while every second was spent in fear, the fear of the undecided future, the sheep had no worries because they had no choices. She slowly stood up and twisted to view him. His grey hair was wet from the rain and his blue eyes seemingly vibrated in their sockets. Her mouth felt frozen shut, powerless to open; her vocal cords disintegrated within her throat. It felt like a horrid lucid
dream, unable to move and cursed to view what she feared most. Finally, she gained enough control of her body to speak. “I regret the constant running. But I don’t run based on my own
volition. I run because I don’t wish for my own autonomy to be subjected to castration, lacerating my humanity from within. Is it not true that this decision to ‘stop running’ merely underestimates the decision to retain my livelihood, and with that the very basis of my humanity itself?” A look of perplexity swept over his face. Was this the first time the wolf had considered the confines of his operation? Could it be that even he, a man incapable of being human, still possessed a sliver of self-reflection? Was it possible that Red had, for the first time, unlocked an aspect of the wolf that he did not know existed? For the first time in her life, Red held the power in her hand, and she knew it.

“The question of my existence is hardly a viable concern when considering the innumerable beneficiaries that a controllable population possesses…” his response was cut off by Red interjecting.

“There is no point to a controllable population when those within have no self-drive, looking only at the greater good. There is no point in physical progress if we cannot progress within ourselves. How can one justify an existence based only to serve?” She quickly answered her own question before he could speak, “Surely it cannot be because the overall efficiency is
raised due to this subservience. To be human is to have pitfalls. To be human is to access the very darkest, deepest corners of your mind, and come through with a passion for perception that
one could only derive from within. What do you perceive? Is perception even a property of a human when their ability to make decisions is taken away from them? How dare you attempt to
claim that a lack of free will is beneficial to the progress of humanity! Humanity cannot progress without free will. Humanity cannot even begin to comprehend progression when self-reflection
and free will is taken away.” Tears seeped from her brown eyes as she panted with anticipation awaiting his response.

“Stop…” he attempted to say but stuttered throughout, “These questions are not pertinent in today’s society…” His voice trailed off, paralyzed with an indeterminant inquisition of himself. His hand reached down to his belt, and slowly pulled out his sidearm, “These questions you’re asking, they have no answer, they deserve no response.” He shakily pointed his gun in Red’s direction, although the action was only to expel a response from her, and not to pull the trigger.

“You may pull that trigger, you may not, but I believe it was Tupac Shakur who said: ‘Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside while still alive.’” The Wolf’s face turned mangled with depression, while still somehow maintaining a calm look, “You could kill me, but I would not lose my greatest strength; I would not lose myself. You have already lost what is greatest to you, my friend,” and with this Red closed her eyes and opened her arms, content with the life she lived and the choices she made.

BANG! She winced, but felt nothing, although she dared not to open her eyes. A thud echoed around the room as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Red peeked open
one eye to see the wolf lying on the floor, blood dripping from his cranium, and the sidearm scattered nearby. “I did it…” she thought. Red’s logic had overridden the implant. She had
proven to not just herself, but to everyone, that humanity is triumphant, and that the spirit of free will and individuality is paramount to the progression of humanity.

Retaining her demeanor, she stepped over his uninhabited body and placed the basket in the computer. Waves of code booted up and she followed the commands as scheduled.

Red was free. No more running. No more hiding. Something welled up inside of her as she fell to the floor and burst out crying. “It’s finally over, finally,” she bawled. What followed suit was a rush of serenity, as she got up and left the musty room. When she stepped outside, she felt the rain on her skin, no longer daggers of acid but bursts of freedom. Reaching up to her face, she grabbed her sunglasses and tossed them into the gutter. Slowly she ventured forth into the crowd, allowing herself to be lost within the sheep, the rain cleansing her skin.

Inspired by dystopian movies and television shows, Harrison crafted this retelling of “Little Red Riding Hood” by the Grimm Brothers. Harrison infused philosophical questions with pop culture references into the story to twist this traditional tale into a captivating and timely story.