Gronk pulled an all-nighter in his office to review his tyrannical approach. He had an unshakeable self-confidence in carrying out his work and was convinced ruthless oppression was the only thing to do. And he would not listen to advice from anyone but himself. His lack of pity and feeling of infallibility bolstered a desire to dominate. Gronk was determined to suppress the spirit of the Outsiders. Subjugation was going well enough, but the necessary harm needed to be stepped up. Intransigence was his key to winning. Low-level job allocations, forcing people to live on the appropriate sides of Area Seven, information stranglehold and arrests were all a triumph. He stroked his pencil moustache. But the curfew and containment were only moderate successes. Breaches in security needed to be addressed immediately. He decided to increase patrols and introduce regular house-to-house searches.
“That unruly waste of air need dread,” Gronk snapped with vitriolic fervour. “I will tighten my grip on the absolute scourge. I hate the reprobates… Sod them!! The feckless fools!!” he shouted. His addiction to persecution was spiralling out of control. It fed his troubled mind and cold heart. Gronk pushed ever onwards toward his legacy.
The Wrong Side immediately bore the brunt of his renewed, alienating zeal. Pinkshirts marched around with strict orders to increase intimidation. At first, the enhanced brutality was a shock, but many Outsiders became deadened inside over time. Some were followed while performing their lowly duties. They were harried and clubbed down for minor infringements. Pinkshirts watched their homes from the street during the day. Everything had gone downhill. Living conditions worsened for the unfortunate Outsiders in their dingy hovels. Lacking in compassion or empathy, Gronk thrived in the atmosphere of cruelty.
Tear-stained faces of small children peered out from darkened windows as Pinkshirts banged on doors late at night. War dogs tore into the darkness. Rough barks. Roaring Destructors rattled deteriorating door frames. Apathy set into the hounded Outsiders. Arrests were on the increase. If contraband such as a transistor radio was discovered, the culprit would be thrown into the cells and interrogated. They lived in fear of arrest and rumours of torture were rife. With additional patrols, the curfew was more strictly enforced and it was trickier for the Missing to move around Area Seven at night. The harsher regime was shoved down Outsiders’ throats with Gronk gusto.
Copyright © 2025 Callum Stanford. All rights reserved.
