Woke Madness: Trapped in the System E-Book

Tobias Voss

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 143

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Woke Madness: Trapped in the System In a future where the slightest offense against the "woke" order is punished with brutal punishment, a group of young rebels fights against the totalitarian regime. With forbidden celebrations, forbidden feelings and a dangerous truth as weapons, they face the omnipresent surveillance and a society that no longer seems to dare to do anything. But the price of resistance is high - and not everyone will survive the fight.

Leseprobe

Title:Woke Madness:

Trapped in the System

Author:Tobias Voss

Biography:

Tobias Voss was born in Berlin in 1985 and grew up in a world that was increasingly shaped by technology and social upheaval. At a young age, he developed a passion for stories that raised questions about the future and society. After completing an apprenticeship in IT and communications, he worked in the digital industry for several years. But his true passion has always been writing.

Tobias Voss began to develop his ideas into novels and short stories, often dealing with dystopian themes and the question of how modern societies might develop under extreme political and social conditions.

Away from writing, he lives in a small town in the north of Germany, where he appreciates the peace and quiet of nature and enjoys spending his free timereading historical novels and pursuing creative projects.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the New World Patrick sat on the quiet wooden chair by the window, sucking on a cup of disgusting-tasting oat coffee. Real coffee had been banned for years- something to do with unfair trade practices, they said. He couldn't stand the bitter taste, but the neighbors had long since denounced him when he brewed real coffee. He stared out through the smeared windows at the gray street, where the first signs of winter were approaching. Cold and dreariness - that was exactly what suited this rotten world, he thought. At that moment, the emotional guards appear. Two uniformed figures, with stiff gait and empty faces, who only had eyes for their target: Mrs. Dierksen. The old widow next door, who always used to have a slightly offbeat sense of humor. Patrick remembered how she had slipped him half a loaf of bread years ago when he was short on cash. Today, she was just an emaciated shell who hardly ever left her apartment. But she had actually said something wrong - a fatal mistake in this world.

“Ms. Dierksen, you are under arrest,” croaked one of the guards in a mechanical voice. He held up a tablet on which a short videowas played. Mrs. Dierksen was standing in front of her house and was discussing something with another neighbor, the overzealous Mrs. Müller. It was about the food deliveries, which have been delayed for weeks. "Maybe it's because half of you lazy bums would rather attend gender seminars than work," Mrs. Dierksen had said. That was it. A single sentence, a single thought that did not conform to the norm. The guards grabbed her roughly by the arms. "You have hurt the feelings of lazy citizens." The sentence will be determined after the interrogation." “This is crazy!” Mrs. Dierksen defended herself weakly, her voice was thin and shaky. “I was only telling the truth!” This is all a damn joke!” "Quiet!" The other guard shoved her into the waiting emotion mobile with such force that she slammed into the door. Patrick could see the pain in her face, even from a distance. The street camera above the lamppost whirred quietly, its lens trained on the incident.

Patrick clenched his fists. His fingers itched to open the window and shout at the guards, but he knew thatIt would be suicide. The drones would be there within seconds and mark him. No one escaped the drones. Besides, what would it have achieved? Dierksen was finished, like so many before her.

"Shut up, you coward," Patrick muttered to himself as he turned away from the window. The room was shabby, with peeling wallpaper and an unpleasant smell of damp wood. The central monitoring box - a device required in every home- hummed quietly in the corner. A monotonous sing-song blared from the speakers: "Remember to be respectful. Respect protects us all. Respect sets us free."

Free. Patrick spat on the floor. What a farce. No one was free in this world. Not since the government decided that feelings were more important than facts. Every thought, every word was weighed carefully. There were no more discussions, no freedom of speech. Everything had to be ironed out and politically correct, otherwise it was your turn.

He heard footsteps in the hall. Mrs. Müller, the informer, stomped past his door. Her face was twisted with a disgusting self-satisfaction, having just won a prize for her gem unit."Dirty old witch," Patrick hissed. He knew full well that she had set the guards on Dierksen. Müller was one of those fanatical system supporters who took every opportunity to ingratiate herself with the government.

"Oh, Mr. Hartmann," she suddenly called out, having read his thoughts. "I hope you have made your contribution to the community today?" Her gaze bored into him like a knife in soft butter. "Of course, Mrs. Müller," Patrick replied, forcing a smile onto his face. "I bought my entire monthly quota of meat substitutes. Soy burgers really do taste fantastic."

"I hope so," she said sarcastically and walked on. Patrick slammed the door and gritted his teeth. If he met her one day, without cameras, without drones, she would regret it.

He collapsed onto his worn-out sofa and stared at the ceiling. The raids were becoming more widespread. No one could be safe anymore, not even in their own four walls. Patrick wondered how much longer he could endure this. For months he had carried this seething hatred inside him, this uncontrollable anger ata system that had suffocated all humanity. But what could he do? Alone against an all-powerful government? This was a suicide mission.

And yet, something had to change. He knew it, deep down inside. The only question was when and how.

Outside, Mrs. Dierksen had long since disappeared, along with the guards and the emotional mobile. The street was empty and desolate again, as always. Patrick stood up, went back to the window and looked out. The snow began to fall, and the icy silence slowly crept into the houses. A world without warmth, without hope. A world he could no longer bear.

Chapter 2: Susi and the Forbidden Hope Susi sat on the cold ceramic edge of the bathtub and stared at the small plastic strips in her shaking hand. Two lines. Two damn lines. She had hoped she was wrong, that it was a stupid coincidence - perhaps an allergy to the new soy yogurt or the stress of the last few weeks. But no. The test was clear. She was pregnant. "Shit," she whispered, dropping the test strip into the sink. She leaned back until her head touched the cool tiles of the bathroom wall and pressed her hands to her stomach. In this world, that was a death sentence.

For years, any form of heterosexuality was considered subversive, an attack on the progress of society. Children conceived "naturally" were considered relics of a barbaric past. Those who took the risk of becoming pregnant not only had to expect long prison sentences - in most cases, those affected simply disappeared without a trace.

A dull knock on the door tears her from her thoughts. "Susi, is everything OK? You arealready an hour in the bathroom." It was Nadine, her roommate. Nadine, the loyal, eternally annoying system loyalist, who eagerly sent her reports to the monitoring center every week. "Yes, I... I just have a stomach ache. Probably the wrong brand of vegan butter." Her voice sounded shaky, but Nadine didn't seem to notice. "Okay, hurry up, I want to take a shower before the curfew starts."

"Sure, ready in a minute." Susi waited until Nadine's footsteps moved away, then she jumped up and frantically rummaged through the small box under the sink. There were a few emergency items that she had put aside at some point: painkillers, a bottle of real vodka (illegal, but useful), and a few old condoms that had obviously arrived too late.

Your mind was racing. What should she do now? Tell the truth? Never. Nadine would report her immediately. Hide the pregnancy? Maybe for a few weeks, but it would happen at some point. And then? Prison? A labor camp? Or worse? They felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced herself to remain calm. Crying would not help. They had tothink. Lukas. The name resounded in her head like an echo. He was the father. He had to know.

Her heart beat faster as she remembered the evening that had changed everything. It had been a few months ago, one of those forbidden parties that only the bravest or the most desperate went to. She had sneaked away from Nadine, with a borrowed coat and a fake pass. The party took place in an abandoned warehouse that had once been an old butcher's shop -ironically, the very place the government detested. The place smelled of old beer and sweat, and the music was so loud you could barely hear your own thoughts. Lukas had spoken to her there, with that cheeky smile and a sparkle in his eyes that immediately took her breath away. "Hey, are you new here, or are you just that shy?" he had said, and she had laughed, even though she normally considered herself too smart to fall for such comments. They had danced, drunk and at some point it had happened. In a small side room, between stacked boxes and a creaky sofa, they had lost each other. It waswild, unplanted, but also beautiful. For the first time in years, Susi felt like she was really living, not just existing.

But after that, everything got more complicated. They met a few more times, always in secret, always afraid of being discovered. Lukas was a rebel, one of the few who still had the courage to openly question the system. "All this woke theater, this artificial shit - that's not life, Susi." We're not machines. We're people." She had agreed with him, at least in her mind, but she was also afraid. Lukas was brave, maybe too brave. She always had the feeling that at some point he would go too far. And now he was gone. They had taken him away from the last party, during the big raid. Susi had only been able to watch as the guards pushed him to the ground and led him away. She hadn't heard from him since.

Susi wrapped her arms around her stomach. "What should I do?" she whispered. Lukas couldn't help her, not now. You were alone. A noise from the hallway made her jump. Nadine was talking to someone – judging by the voice, it was one of the security guards who regularlycombing the neighborhood. Susi knew she had to act. She quickly put the pregnancy test in her pocket and splashed cold water on her face before opening the door.

"There you are," said Nadine when she saw Susi. "Mr. Weber just wanted to make sure that everything was OK."

The officer was tall and bulky, with a face that showed no kindness whatsoever. "Is everything OK, Mrs. Schuster?" His eyes bored into hers as if he could read her thoughts.

"Yes, yes, everything is fine. I just have... stomach problems."

"Mhm. Remember to adapt your diet to the protocol. Consuming untested foods is a violation of the rules."

“Of course. Thanks for the tip.” The officer looked at her for a moment, then nodded and left. Susi breathed a sigh of relief. Nadine looked at her skeptically. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I... didn't sleep well. I'm going to lie down for a bit." Without waiting for an answer, she went into her room and locked the door.

They collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. They had no idea what would happen next. But she knew one thing: she would have to fight. For herself. For her child. And maybe, just maybe, for Lukas too.

Chapter 3: Patrick plans the rebellion Patrick sat on his worn-out sofa, his legs propped up on the wobbly coffee table, staring at the dim light of his outdated tablet. The screen flickered slightly as the encrypted chat popped up. It was an invitation – short, direct and dangerous: "Friday, 11pm. Old cellar under the brewery. Only bring people you know. No risk." He read the message three times before turning off the tablet and pushing it into the crack in the sofa. An illegal party. That was crazy. The surveillance drones were always circling over the city, and the emotional guards had been on the prowl like bloodhounds since the last raid. Still, something inside him burned with curiosity and rebellion.

Patrick knew it was stupid. But the rules of this new world had taken away everything that was important to him. Freedom, friends, self-determination - even the damn coffee. Everything was regulated, monitored, sterile. The parties were more than just an escape from the monotony. They were an act of rebellion, a middle finger to a system that suffocated all humanity. He closed the curtains, even though it was already dark outside, and opened the small drawer in his living room closet. Inside was an old keychain with a small, broken USB stick. The stick was a relic from another time - before the government's "digital corrections". It contained encrypted data that had been passed on to him by Lukas, one of the most famous rebels. Lukas. The name triggers a flood of mixed emotions in him. Admiration, respect - and also a little fear. Lukas was charismatic, intelligent and fearless. But he was also impulsive, a daredevil who took risks that others didn't even consider. It was only a matter of time before he was discovered. And yet he was the heart of the small group of rebels that was somewhere between madness and hope.

Patrick thought about the last party that had taken place in an abandoned parking garage. There he had met Lukas, together with Timo and Jana, two other rebels. Timo was a quiet guy with a sharp mind and a talent for technology. He had organized the party, hacked the security drones and manipulated the surveillance devices. Jana was the opposite - loud, passionate, with aLaughter that gave hope, even in this bleak world.

He remembered the conversations they had had while drinking cheap black market vodka and cooking real meat - real meat! - on a makeshift grill. Lukas had spoken with his usual energy: "The government has taken everything from us. But we are taking it back. They think they can control us, break us. But we are stronger. We are more."

Patrick had agreed with him, at least in his heart. But now, as he read the invitation to the next party, he knew that the time for empty words was over. It was time to do something. The next evening, he put on his worn coat, slid his tablet into his bag, and left the apartment. The streets were dark and empty except for the ever-present surveillance drones that buzzed overhead like metallic insects. Patrick kept his head down and avoided the cameras. The brewery was on the outskirts of town, an old, dilapidated building that had long since been disused. The entrance to the cellar was hidden behind a stack of rusted barrels. Patrick knocked twice, as described in the message. A narrow gapopened and a pair of eyes gathered around him.

"Password?"

“Freedom,” Patrick answered quietly. The door opened and he entered. The room was damp and musty, but the atmosphere was electric. Music blared from an old speaker system that Timo had obviously cobbled together. People were laughing, dancing and talking - without fear, without restraint.

Lukas is standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by a small group. He saw Patrick and waved him over. "Hartmann! You're still alive. It's great that you're here."

"I had no choice," said Patrick, grinning. "I need a bit of normality again."

"Normality? This?" Lukas laughed. "This is all we have. But maybe it's enough. Come on, I'll introduce you to a few people." He pulled Patrick into the group, where Timo and Jana were already waiting. Timo nodded at him while he worked on an improvised terminal. "Hey, Patrick. Glad you made it."

“Do I have a choice?” Patrick agreed to athe old boxes that served as seating.

"Everyone has a choice," Jana said, pouring him a beer. She handed it to him with a broad smile. "The only question is whether you have the courage to make it."

Patrick took a big sip and wiped the foam from his lips. "And what's the plan? You always have a plan."

Lukas leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with energy. "We want more than just parties. It's time to strike back. We have information about a secret camp where they take people like us. Rebels, deviants, pregnant women - anyone who doesn't fit into the system."

"A camp?" Patrick felt a shiver run down his spine. "What are they doing there?"

"That's what we need to figure out," said Lukas. "But we can't do it alone. We need everyone who is willing to take a risk."

Patrick looked around. The music, the lights, the people - everything seemed so alive, so real. For the first time in years, he felt like there might be hope.