Writings of a normal mind

Judas 1/?

2006-09-22T16:44:00.000Z

The inhabitants of the room turned as the door opened, although opened might be too gentle a word. The plaster on the wall cracked as the heavy wood slammed against it and a large figure filled the doorway. He opened his mouth, and spoke in a voice that filled the air. "And thou shalt know what I am the Lord, when my servant lay my wrath against you."

Several hours later police tape was stretched across the door, and a group of officers in uniform were leading a strait-jacketed man towards an armoured van. The huge figure walked calmly with them, his eyes tilted towards the sky, muttering something under his breath.

As they passed one particular officer the large figure stopped and looked down. "You have committed a great sin, my brother. And you will be punished."

The officer looked back, blinking for a moment, and the guards around the imprisoned man moved to try and usher him on. With a sudden movement the figure bent down, his teeth clamping around the officer's neck and closing. As the officer reached up to his ruined throat in shock the figure stood upright again, spitting a mouthful of flesh and blood onto the grass.

The guards leapt at him, pinning down the now-smiling man and dragging him into the van.

The Real Red Riding Hood

2006-01-11T18:19:00.000Z

Red Riding hood was a young woman in a small village of woodsmen. She was a mischevious, disobedient girl who was constantly being told that her ways would get her into trouble. Her grandmother was an old lady, and thus lived in a small cottage deep in the woods. Some folk of the village even muttered that her grandmother was a witch.

It happened that Red Riding Hood's grandmother fell ill and was bedridden. No one knew of this until a small sparrow came to Red Riding Hood and told her. Red Riding Hood of course knew better than any small bird, and brushed away the sparrow. She was busy being the centre of attention of a group of young village men.

And so the bird flew off, and flew to Red Riding Hood's mother and told her. Furious with her daughter Red Riding Hood's mother packed a basket of food and set out in search of her daughter. She found her under a bridge, kissing one of the villaage boys, with her hooded cape on the ground beneath them.

She drew out the slim willow branch (in those days all mothers of disobedient children would carry one) and struck her daughter across her legs. "Filthy disobedient pig!" she said to her daughter. "Your grandmother lies ill, go to her at once before I beat you black and blue."

Sniffing, Red Riding Hood put on her cape and took up the basket before walking into the forest towards her grandmother's house.

In the forest also lived an evil beast, the wolf, who loved nothing more than destruction and corruption. He had been watching Red Riding Hood for some time, and now saw his chance. As she entered the forest he stood before her, smiling at her.

"Well hello there. And where is a beautiful girl like you off to today?" he asked.

Red Riding Hood blushed as bright as her cape and said to the wolf (completely forgetting all the warnings she had been given about not talking to the wolf) "I am going to take this food to my grandmother. See, some bread and cheese, all we can spare."

Hearing this the wolf laughed inside, for he knew the way to the grandmother's house well. "Look at those flowers" he said "I'm sure your grandmother would love a bunch of those."

"Alright," said Red Riding Hood, rather grumpily as she didn't want to waste time, "I'll pick her some."

The wolf licked his lips as he watched her young form bend to pick the flowers. Then, quick as a flash, he ran off through the woods to the grandmother's house.

The sparrow had been watching this and followed the wolf, sure he must be up to evil. It was right in thinking so, for when the wolf got to the grandmother's house he called out in Red Riding Hood's voice "Oh grandmother, I have brought a basket of food for you. Please let me in."

The grandmother called back in her old, croaky voice "Come in my dear grandaughter. Warm yourself by the fire. The door is unbarred."

Quick as lightning the wolf burst through the door and killed the old woman. Then he cut out her thigh and carved it, leaving the cuts of meat on the side like ham. An empty bottle was lying on the side, and he filled it with her blood, then ate the rest of her himself before throwing her bones onto the fire. He took her clothes, blew out the candle by the side of the bed, dressed himself in her clothes and climbed into the bed. No sooner had he finished than Red Riding Hood knocked at the door.

"Come in my dear grandaughter" called the wolf in the grandmother's voice, "and warm yourself by the fire."

In came Red Riding Hood in her red cape, a bunch of flowers in one hand and the basket of food in the other, her clothes muddy and dirty from picking the flowers. The wolf stared at her as she came in, but with only the dim light from the fireplace Red Riding Hood could only just make out her grandmother's clothes and not see the wolf inside them.

"I've brought you some food grandmother." said Red Riding Hood.

"Thank you dear, but I've just eaten. There's some ham left there. You must be hungry. Have some." said the wolf in the old woman's voice.

Red Riding Hood was hungry from her walk, so she sat at the table in the cottage and sliced some bread before putting on it a slice of cheese and some of the meat the wolf had offered. As she was about to take her first bite the sparrow, unable to bear any more without saying anything, burst out "Filthy girl, eating the meat of your grandmother, shame on you!"

But Red Riding Hood was very hungry, and considered the sparrow a foolish little bird, and she bit deeply into the bread, cheese and meat, and finished off the platter with the sparrow crying out its warning outside the cottage.

"You must be thirsty my dear," said the wolf, "have some of the wine that's left in that bottle."

Red Riding Hood took the bottle and poured herself a glass of wine. As she lifted it to take the first sip the sparrow cried out again "Depraved child, don't you see what you're doing? Drinking the life-blood of your family!"

And now the meat and wine had made Red Riding Hood sleepy, and she yawned. The wolf grinned an evil grin as it said its next words, and its impression of the grandmother slipped a little as it spoke. "My dear, you sound tired. Why don't you climb into bed with me?"

Red Riding Hood nodded, yawning again, and started to move over to the bed.

"Oh my dear girl, you can't climb into bed in those filthy clothes. Take off that muddy cape of those or you'll make the bed dirty." said the wolf.

Red Riding hood unfastened her cape and let it drop on the floor. "Where shall I put it?" she asked the wolf.

"Throw it on the fire my dear" said the wolf, and she took the cape and threw it onto the fire where it burned away.

"You should take off your shoes dear." said the wolf.

She slipped off her shoes and looked around for somewhere to put them. The wolf's voice was slipping a lot now, almost back to its smooth growl. "Throw them onto the fire dear, you won't need them again."

The shoes followed the cape onto the fire, burning away in the hot, greedy flames.

"Now your dress dear." said the wolf, entirely in its own voice now "Throw that on the fire too, you won't need it again."

Outside the sparrow wept as it watched Red Riding Hood strip off her dress and stand naked and shivering while her red dress burned away on the fire.

"Now you can get into bed, my dear" said the wolf "and warm yourself up next to me, and sleep."

So Red Riding Hood climbed into bed with the wolf, and curled up next to its thick fur, and lay with the wolf.

Nowhere man

2005-12-22T15:21:00.000Z

It could have been days, weeks, centuries. It would be impossible to tell. Time tended to be rather meaningless in the mists that surrounded and filled Limbo. What he did know was that he had been there a long time, and that he had been betrayed by being left there. Betrayed by someone he had loved and trusted, in a way betrayed by himself. If only he could remember his name.

The mists started to clear ahead of him and his memories began to crawl back. Memories of his conception at His own hands, violent and brutal actions that destroyed the trust between a loving couple. He could no longer remember why He had thought it would be a good idea to bring Himself into the world, but assumed He must have had a good reason.

Memories of a life filled with little but hardship and pain, a futile struggle against the hatred and darkness spanning the Earth, ending with His son's, and His own death at the hands of His enemies.

He started to remember more, ever more, His mind filling, bursting with memories, yet still they flooded into Him until he did remember.

The mists clear around Him now he sank to his knees and looked up at the grey infinite plain of limbo. He reached out with His mind and touched the Earth. He felt the chaos of life there, the manic unthinking hatred, the violence done in His name and His mind recoiled. Then He remembered why.

Jehovah stood, turned, and fled once more into the forgetful mists.

Bad poetry

2005-05-06T13:58:00.000Z

Tearing away layers
Pulling at skin
Trying to find the being
That hides within

Digging ever deeper
Looking hard inside
Trying to find whatever
Gives us this drive

Drives to fail
Drives to succeed
Driving us to live
Occasionally to leave

What is it inside us?
Can we ever know
Or should we ever discover
Will the beast inside us grow?

Ending it all

2005-03-23T21:12:00.000Z

Well sort of. I'm gonna give up posting daily on here and just try to make it semi-regular, at least until I've got a job and can stave off depression long enough to make a post each day.

Actually things aren't as bad as I'm making out. We've got food, got a place to live, only problem is neither of us have jobs.

I've got an idea, I think, but I'm not sure how far I can take it. Hopefully after the weekend I'll have ideas again.

Well, optimism may not work, but it makes a nice change.

Ignore the read more thingy.

Apologies again

2005-03-09T13:59:00.000Z

Well, sorry to do this yet again, but I lost my job a few hours ago and to be honest I'm not really in a creative mood. I'll be back as soon as I feel up to writing again.

Proactive Karma Enforcer 1/1

2005-03-07T10:07:00.000Z

No matter what you may hear people say life is actually fair, we're the ones who make sure. Called angels and demons once, we're not quite what you think. We're not too sides constantly at war, in fact we're all the same. Not that we all look identical or anything stupid like that, I just mean we're all employed by the same company.

Yep, we've gone corporate. We are actually all human, just recruited by PKE Inc to help keep the cosmic balance of fairness, possibly one of the greatest conspiracies in existence.

The company has massive resources, and has been running for the last two thousand years. Technically I suppose its the oldest company in existence, but really its kind of odd how the setup went. You've all heard about the son of God and all of that, right? He's our CEO. Has been for the last two thousand years. Whether or not all of the crap that the various religions say about him is true is something he refuses to reveal, just smiles an odd little smile.

I was gonna discuss the type of thing we do, so here goes. The other day I was out on assignment. Used to be we had to try and monitor everyone manually, so thank god for CCTV cameras and modern technology. With satellite stuff we rarely miss a sin or a good deed any more, although occasionally we do, that's when life does seem unfair to people. Sorry about that, we do our best.

And to be fair our best is bloody good, better than any of you could do I'm sure. The other day for example, when I was out on this assignment, it was because of some punk kid who had keyed someone's car. Now keying a car's only a minor thing, so I had to weigh things up, come up with a suitable balancing event, and then arrange it. I figured tripping up would be fair, so had to arrange things just right that he'd fall over at a mildly embarassing time.

One of our biodegradable trip-loops (tm) did it. Just walked ahead of him, dropped the loop, and waited for him to put his foot in it. Splat. There are times I love this job.

Apologies

2005-03-06T16:58:00.000Z

I hate to be doing this again, especially when I'd resolved to myself to have an update on here daily, but the fact that my eyes feel like they're on fire, my chest is a massive lump of pain, I've lost all sense of taste and smell and my head feels like its stuffed with steel wool again has kinda damaged my creativity. I'm afraid until I'm over whatever this is updates will be fairly irregular, unless I happen to get an idea while at work.

Emergence 3/3

2005-03-05T11:00:00.000Z

Welcome back kid. Getting to be a regular thing. Right then, shall we get on?

So there was this hero who saved us all, could move incredibly fast or something. I mean we're talking faster than a sprinter here, so fast you could barely see. Eyes were more limited then, now it wouldn't be a problem. He took all of the guns away, knocked out the crooks, and that was it. The first Emergence.

Of course the media were all over it, the guy was a celebrity overnight. That's where we screwed up.

See celebrities now aren't the same as they used to be. It didn't used to be all self-promotion and building yourself up, telling people about you. Instead there were people whose jobs were just to find out information about these people, and when the Emergences started there got to be people who had to find out all about the heroes.

At first it wasn't so bad. There were only a few of them, and they kept fairly quiet, the press couldn't get at them. By the time of the hundredth Emergence though it was over the top, they got no privacy. Imagine someone cracking your security coding and watching you constantly, reporting to everyone exactly what you're doing. Yeah, I see that gets you. That's pretty much what these people had to go through.

And you can imagine what it did to them. They started to get angry. The original celebrities were a bit like they are now, they were the type who liked the attention, but those who went through Emergence were just average people. Good people with a sense of justice in most cases, but basically just people.

The first murder happened. A sniper took out Zip while he was just walking down the street, and the whole thing came crashing down. Zip? He was the one who'd saved us in the bank, that first one. The sniper was caught.

Oh, a sniper is someone who uses a gun over a very long distance. Or that'll do for now anyway.

I'm actually nearly crying from this, I remember exactly how it all went wrong. That murder was the first of many, it was put down to various things, jealousy, personal reasons, all sorts of different things. I think jealousy was the main one, if these Emergences got to be special then why couldn't everyone?

Eventually there were only a handful left alive. Sure, they were powerful, they were amazing, they were heroes. But there had only ever been a few hundred of them and there were six billion average humans. They went on the rampage, they fought back against the people who wanted them to be just your average joe and part of the crowd.

The death toll was never really counted, but we won in the end. I killed two of them myself in fact. We lost a lot I'll admit, but we got rid of them, and we thought the world would go back to normal.

And then someone released the nanos. But you know about that one.

Emergence 2/3

2005-03-04T18:42:00.000Z

Ah, okay, you're back then. I'm actually quite suprised. Where were we yesterday?

Yep, that was it. The bank. Its a building, big concrete building, used to hold money. Money was used to trade for stuff, kind of like bytes are now, except then it was solid and banks used to keep it in a safe. They used to trade it for solid stuff too, not just info-space or resources. Actual goods, books, things like that.

You know what a book is? I'm impressed.

No, no, that's not what books used to be. They used to have lots of pages, not just one, and it was permanently fixed. Forget it, we'll come back to that later.

So I was in this bank with my parents and these guys came in with their guns to hold up the bank. A hold-ups a bit like someone trying to swipe some of your info-space without a trade, like someone walking off with a kilo of resources, except they used to threaten people to do it. You could still kill people then, its kinda like someone going dormant and not coming back out.

And they took a hostage, that's someone that they're threatening to kill if they don't get the money they want. Then they put a gun to his head, and pulled the trigger.

And this was the amazing bit, this was the moment of the first Emergence, which we should have recognised for the disaster it was. He didn't die. The gun didn't blow his head off. He wasn't even kneeling there any more. By the time the crook had pulled the trigger, he was already standing behind him, with an arm locked round his throat. The bullet went stray and hit one of the others in the arm, not that any of us cared, we were watching the first of the heroes take apart the crooks.

You know its been said that a lot of legends might have come from periods of Emergence. We don't know what caused it, but a lot of legends of gods and myths of heroes match up with what actually happens.

Head off home kid, and leave that kilo here. I've got a few mods I want to make and you ain't getting this tale for nothing. See you tomorrow.

Emergence 1/3

2005-03-03T10:37:00.000Z

You probably don't even know what an Emergence is, do you? I remember when they were still happening, when it was still novel, before everyone forgot and we shipped them all off. We never did get to the bottom of them, never managed to puzzle it out. Then again no one really bothered, they were an embarassment more than anything. No one, absolutely no one, wanted them except themselves and a few comic book fans. They were a disaster.

Bah. Listen to me ramble on, sorry about that. Now what was it I was talking about?

Oh yes, Emergence. Well then, lets go.

I was actually there for the first Emergence. I was six at the time, yes, I know that makes it seem a very long time ago. I suppose it was a very long time ago actually, since I'm over a hundred now. What's that? How old am I? That's not a particularly polite question to ask. I'm one hundred and sixty-two, if that makes you happy.

Anyway, the first Emergence. People didn't live as long then, we hadn't wiped out the common cold, and AIDs was still a threat rather than an annoyance. They even had these things they called health scares, all long before nanos were developed. I suppose they were actually developing at the time, but it was before they were released anyway. A good fifty years before in fact.

Right then, sorry I keep drifting off the topic. The first Emergence then, at least the first officially recognised Emergence. I saw it happen, I was actually in the bank where it happened. Hell, I was the first one saved by it.

Now what happened was this, I was in the bank with my parents.

Yes, parents you know. You must've been taught about them. It was when we still had men and women, and just men and women, and they actually reproduced together by exchanging genetic code.

Yes I know people still do that, but trust me, its not the same.

Anyway we were in the bank all together, and in came a half-dozen crooks. Dozen, it means twelve, and a half-dozen is six. They came in, and they looked perfectly normal at first. Then they pulled various guns out of these carrier bags they had and held up the place.

Oh for God's sake. Guns, you must've seen them in a museum or something, under that safety glass to keep the nanos from digesting them for resources. They used to shoot bits of metal at high speed, designed to hurt people.

You know what, I'm getting tired of this. Come back tomorrow.

Quick note

2005-03-02T16:47:00.000Z

Just to let anyone who's interested know that I've got rid of haloscan. There are various reasons, but mainly because its annoying me. I'm sorry to see all of those comments just vanish like that, but don't know how to transfer between the two. Anyway, to be honest I prefer blogger's system and I'm not sure why I used it in the first place.

There will be more up tomorrow, and I'm going to try for another multi-parter as soon as I can think of a seed.

Ignore the read more link.

Change 1/1

2005-03-02T09:35:00.000Z

It happened suddenly when it happened. We had no warning. No warning at all. Just suddenly it all changed.

Well, I say suddenly. It actually happened over the course of a day or so. The roads were the first to go, I watched as they morphed, gradually lightening, softening, becoming nothing more than dirt tracks. Cars got stuck in deep pot holes and were left there, their drivers and passengers falling asleep at the wheel, collapsing forwards.

I was the only one awake, the only who saw what was happening. I don't know why, but I was, and it was what I'd always dreamed of.

The planes went next. Why it went in such a strange order I'll never know, but one was flying over, must have been on autopilot, and I watched it shift and change. The wings spread, turning into great wings of glimmering red. I felt myself growing lighter, I suppose it must have been gravity weakening to allow these things to fly. I don't know what happened to the people in them, maybe they went to help make its mind or something, but to be honest if I had died in the transition that's how I'd've wanted it. The beast beat its wings, and soared off, spraying fire before it across the sky.

Next it was the cars. I still couldn't describe exactly what happened to them, but where there were cars, horses now stood for a moment before the galloped off, away from the roads, leaving their old passengers lying in the dirt. I noticed that a few of the horses had wings, or a single white horn.

And the rest came quickly, the buildings shifted into forests, tree-houses, basic villages with crude huts. Clothes became old-fashioned, some with armour and weapons, others mere peasants.

All because it was my dream. I don't know why I was the one that tipped the scale, or anything else. But this is my world, I hope you enjoy what it has become.

Exodus 1/1

2005-03-01T10:33:00.000Z

Its coming you know, whether you ants down there will believe us or not. Soon we'll leave you. Oh, how you will scurry then, without your perfect, genius leaders to guide you. You'll have to learn to lead yourselves, to work with one another, or you can perish. Frankly we don't much care, you were never more than a game for us anyway.

Millenia we've been watching you, shaping you, guiding you into an amusing toy. To be honest I doubt you'll survive, and I very much doubt you'll realise what the Exodus is when it comes. Only a few years left, then I can out of this hole that you're so obsessed with, this physical reality you enjoy so much.

Oh how much fun we've had with you, and you never knew. You never had any idea how much of your lives we controlled, from the minute to the massive. We could control your thoughts when we chose, although that made the game too easy, it was almost cheating. Much more fun was to twist events around you, manupulate individuals, towns, countries to do what we wanted you to do. And you never knew.

So many wars, and as you developed new toys we found we could enjoy it even more. You came up with so many ideas, all on your own, you even came up with rules of war. What you didn't realise is that everything you do is a war, we pitch you up against each other constantly, not just countries. Every argument you have, every close call as you pull out of a drive-way, every time one of you dies in an accident, its us playing our games, and we've so enjoyed it.

Anyway, most of the others have left now. You've grown boring. Only a few of us remain before the final Exodus, when we'll go else where for a new game. I think though that before we go, one last little play. I've always wanted to see if you really do have the capacity for complete self-destruction.

Best of luck, if you survive we might even see you up here with us one day.

Forgotten 1/1

2005-02-28T22:24:00.000Z

"I'm sorry sir, but we don't have you listed in our records."

"Well look again, look, I've told you my card number, name, everything else. I'm holding the credit card in front of me. I must be listed."

"I'm sorry sir, I'm afraid there's no one with those details in our database."

I hung up. It'd been like this all day, hell, it'd been like this most of my life. I seemed to be complete forgettable to everyone. Except that it'd never happened with machinery before.

My parents even, they no longer knew I existed. They'd forgotten on my fifteenth birthday. It'd taken half an hour for me to convince them I wasn't a stranger in their house, but was actually their son. Gradually it got worse, until eventually it was easier just to avoid them than it was to talk to them. It wasn't like they ever noticed me, and if they did I just needed to step out of sight for a minute for them to forget.

Same at school, eventually I just stopped going. My name was on the register, I checked a few times, but the teacher just skipped straight past it.

Of course, its had advantages at times. I can grab something from a shop and walk out, and no one even realises once I'm out of sight of the pursuit. Lucky too, because its fucking impossible to get a job like this. But this is still the first time machinery's screwed up and forgotten me as well.

I walk through the town, looking around. Of course no one returns my gaze, no one sees me even, just automatically steps around me. I try just shoving someone, out of curiousity, but they don't even seem to notice. They stumble and fall, but that's it, they look around, stand back up and gather their things together.

I'm starting to panic again. I search my pockets for the one thing that reminds me I exist, stupid though it may seem. A passport, mine, from seventeen years ago when I was twelve and went to France with my parents.

There it is, in my pocket as always. I take it out, relieved, and look at it before I realise something I've never realised before.

I can't read the name on it, my eyes just skip past it.

His Father's Words 1/1

2005-02-27T12:03:00.000Z

Thanks this time to Ben Solah. Once again I'm saved from writers block by someone else's generosity, other pieces of his work can be found here.

Erik drove along the highway without a care in world. Everything that would make his life whole was in place. The rocky tunes of a REM track kept him content with his afternoon trek from work, even though the traffic was not all that great. He looked onto the horizon and a storm was brewing but that didn’t disturb the contented look on his face.

He turned in on the driveway, the sounds of the CD player drowned out the horrors he was about to expose to his ears. He switched off the stereo and heard the screaming of a man, a man of mature age, bellowing out orders or demands. Erik’s perfect world was instantly shattered. He sat in the car for a few seconds not knowing what to do. Soon anger and fear took over his senses and he leapt out of the car, but didn’t rush into the house to protect his family right away. He ran to the garage and searched through to the back. He instantly spotted what he was looking for, his gun. He had been given it for his 18th Birthday. His father had left him with the words, “This will protect you,” and Erik held those words in him, but was lucky enough to not have to use the piece of metal that he held in his soft hands. A decision to use this had not been considered, he didn’t doubt his father’s morality. He opened the gun to display two unused bullets sitting inside ready to unleash its horror, on another horror.

He burst into the house through the back door. Things weren’t calm in this situation, as most would assume, it was the noise of the unknown man screaming, the noise of his infant child crying an unknown fear. He dove into the front room, he wanted things to be back to normal. He didn’t want one dent in his perfect world. He flailed the gun around in a hysterical gesture of perceived bravery.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The man said as Erik went to his wife, still pointing the gun. In this position Erik could see everything. He could see his baby wrapped in the hands of this man. A fear like no other ripped through Erik’s body. It made him tremble with an anger that could send him insane.

“Give her back!” Erik screamed as he waved the weapon uncontrollably.

“Hey man,” The men held his free hand up in innocence, he was clearly unarmed. But that didn’t suppress Erik’s unforseen emotions that now made his body tremble. “Hey man, I just want a bit of money that’s all. I don’t wanna hurt anybody. Please If I don’t get some money soon, I’m gonna go crazy, I could do something to someone that I couldn’t live with.” The man’s emotional plea didn’t dint Erik’s stance, his baby in that man’s arms kept the gun pointed. Erik’s fear didn’t allow for rational thinking.

“Then why have you got my fucking baby?” He screamed back. His eyes were focused on the life he had created with his wife, and nothing else.

“Because, I know how much this means to you, and maybe you will see that if you could help me out, everything would be OK for everyone.” The man continued to plea, like he was pleading for his life. How would Erik even know, he could be pleading for his life? Erik didn’t know the full story, but through fear he continued to point an instrument that destroyed life, but through his father’s words gave him the perception it preserved it.

“I don’t care about you,” He exposed the truth of the matter, his fear was a greedy emotion, and it was going to drive him to do something drastic and regrettable. The man refused to let go of the kid, his eyes a portal to his desperation. Erik clenched the gun. The man held the child tighter, the situation was beyond reasoning.

“Please!” The man begged, holding the child to show it’s innocence, and it’s need for protection. This highlighted this man’s innocent need for protection, but Erik’s fear dulled the highlights.

“No!” Erik screamed as all perfection in his life left him through the form of a silver bullet. A shot fired by a scared man is indirect and can do anything.

Erik opened his eyes, as he sat on the ground holding the discharged rifle. He woke to screams of his wife, but no other sound could be heard. He looked up in confusion. He now felt a new kind of fear, a fear that caused him to drop his rifle. He searched for what had happened. He searched for the reassurance that could tell him that he had been a father and he had protected his child. He searched for the confirmation that he had been brave and done the right thing.

But what he found was a pool of blood. The crimson liquid belonged to someone. It belonged to two people. The man lied dead on the floor, and on top lay the body of his child. Erik’s life flashed before him, like he was about to go to the eternal abyss himself, but it was his child that was gone. He had failed. His father’s words had led him to his ignorant failure. His need to know that he had done right by his family lay dead also.

He turned to his wife, in one last respite from the shattering event. But to no avail, the stare she cast was not one of compassion or hope or anything that he could have wished for. It was one of questioning. A question that also now lingered in Erik’s mind.

“Was that really the right thing?”

Station tale 1/1

2005-02-26T11:32:00.000Z

Guest story today, while I recover from writer's block and illness. Anyone else wanna put one forwards to try and help me through a dry spell? This one is written by Fox and sent shivers down my spine.

She was the only person on the deserted train station. No trains waited and she sat on the only dry bench as the soft flakes of snow drifted down. I couldnt hear a thing through the glass window of my office which was pity cause i wanted to listen to the laugh that went with that smile as she typed a text message. As he came along the round the corner she looked up and gave another warm smile scootching further along the bench to make room for him. I looked down perplexing over my finances to give them a moments privacy.

What I saw when I next looked up let loose the green eyed monster. He had her in his arms twirling her round and round. Holding her tight dancing about... though she looked alittle awkward what with the bump under her jumper getting in the way. He was a little grimy, looked like a cross between a hippy and a builder. Straggly hair escaping the wooley cap, torn jeans, battered boot and a cigarette burnt parka contrasting with her gleaming dark red hair and autumn coloured skirt and fitted jumper under the nut brown coat.. Her sensible shoed feet flailed about as he danced here and there. She had his her hands on his chest pushing back to give that new life a little space. I assumed.

She looked tired and a little stressed and slowly she stopped her excited twitching and seemed almost drained. I guess she must have gone to sleep as when I looked back after a phonecall the 4.15 was whistling through the station and she was slumped in his arms... her arms held around his neck with one hand and her legs tucked up with the other. Like firemen carry people from burning buildings.

I watched as he lifted her into the 4.25 train as something fell from her hand. I saw her phone thunk to the ground. It spun about as I ran from the door and tried to reach them in time to give it back to her. I looked at the soon depart train but the message still unfinished on the screen caught my eye.

“I cant wait to see you my love... I had the most awful day at work i was late and had to run to the station. My legs ache! Everything aches... oh well i'll be home with you soon! Oh, this creepy guy just came onto the platform. He keeps trying to touch my belly i think hes on som” The message finished ubruptly. I closed my eyes breifly.

I looked back at the phone I had been gripping so tightly.. it had gone to a screen saver... of her and a happy youngman together in a pretty garden, his hands on her belly protectively. I looked back at the train and my heart froze as I saw her looking at me. Her back was ramrod straight and her neck bent at an impossible angle so her long hair trailed down his back as he sat on a seat. hands busy beneath the rucked skirt as the whites of her vacant eyes watched me under the soft fringe of her dark lashes.

Project 2/2

2005-02-25T10:05:00.000Z

"For the last one hundred and sixty two years this has been worked on, and today is the final day. Beneath me on this massive structure, stretching down to only a few hundred metres above the base of the sea, are the coldsleep chambers. Over the next few years every single human who wishes to see the final end of the Project will come here, and be entered into coldsleep until we receive signals from the probes."

"However, before the coldsleep chambers will be opened, the launch will have to take place. When man stepped on the moon, a third of the world watched it. Now we have almost every single human alive watching this event."

The speaker paused for a moment, dramatically, as it engaged the trigger that would begin the launch. The massive machine that had picked up on the human despair that followed its announcement, and had found a solution. The great machine that had made the Project possible, that had founded and led it.

The launch began. Above the island pin-pricks of darkness opened, opened wider, until each of the millions was several feet across. And the probes began to rise from the sea around us, each one picking its target and flying towards that particular wormhole. Each one carefully avoiding collisions with the others in a perfectly orchestrated dance. As the slipped through wormholes, the hole would slam shut and another would open in its place, another probe slipping through. The process would go on for hours.

Each probe carried genetic material, carefully engineered bacteria, each slightly different, each designed to replicate and evolve. Each one was heading towards a potential life-bearing planet, ready to seed it and spread. When the life reached a certain point, the probes would notify the machine, which would decide how to react. Whether to wake the sleeping mass of humanity, or let them rest further, to see their 'children' fully grown rather than as toddlers.

I turned my back on the display. It was magnificent, but I had already decided that I did not want to see the final end of the project. Most would enter coldsleep of course, but this had been the aim of my entire life, and it was over. I would be quite happy to live out the rest of my days with the others who stayed behind, listening, watching, and carefully monitoring as our children spread throughout the universe. One day to return home with the lessons they'd learned.

We have laid the seeds now, and we hope you, those who chose sleep, will thank us for watching over you.

Project 1/2

2005-02-24T11:21:00.000Z

We are alone in the universe.

This was confirmed over two hundred years ago, we are on our own, there is nothing else out there. At some point in the past some disaster wiped the entire universe clean, we are the only spark of life left. No one knows how we survived, only that we were the only life that did.

You're wondering how it was all discovered? How we finally answered the question? Simple. With the development of the superstate computer almost all questions with a limited number of variables could be solved. The universe's mysteries were answered. And so we asked about the probability of life occuring anywhere in the universe throughout a time scale.

The machine chugged away, running its program, gathering data. Because of its strange nature it could effectively gather data from anywhere, at any distance. And we got our answer.

Before the deadzone the universe had a 100% probability of containing life, the stars would have been teeming with peoples. Now though, and for the last six billion years, there was no chance for the existence of life. We shouldn't exist ourselves, and it couldn't explain that. The best it could come up with was that somehow the deadzone had been prevented from reaching us.

We've been working on the Project now for over a century, ever since the idea was first proposed and realised. It ties together so many disciplines, cold-sleep, space travel, faster than light travel, genetics, enviroment studies, just about any scientific study is somehow included in it. Its nearly finished, in fact today is going to be Launch day.

There's an artificial island now between Europe and America, the Project platform. Its about the size of England. This has been the home for the Project for the last half-century, as its neared completion. Forty million people have been working on this, being replaced as old age makes them useless. The entire world has been supporting the Project, and it is finally finished.

Homeless 1/1

2005-02-23T10:25:00.000Z

He was old, grey and haggard. His beard reached half-way down his chest, filthy and dirty, like the rest of his rather impressive hair. At the centre was a shrivelled, but still strangely noble face. He was large, a good seven foot, and carried himself high, almost as though he expected some form of deference.

I'd been watching him for weeks, he was using the alley opposite my newly rented hotel room as his home. He had a large skip there, which he'd rummage through for food scraps, and a small nook where he tucked his sleeping bag each night. I recognise him from a long time ago, he was my boss then, and I hated the bastard. He was never happy, always needed more than people could give, and would get rid of them when they couldn't.

The stuff he did was evil most of the time, and purely selfish. He never thought of anything other than personal gain. It was a family business, but when he found it would help him he sacrificed his own son to profit. What kind of monster could do something like that? I know I never could. He never cared about anyone other than himself, and some of the things he released were so pointlessly cruel, there was no need for that.

I'm sure its him, even though he no longer wears his business outfit, now dressing in dirty, faded, ragged jeans and a long green coat, frayed and torn at the edges. He should have realised that those he had created would bring him down, and he should know that he deserved it. Someone as intelligent as him couldn't believe otherwise of himself, though I suppose he must have done. Maybe he was simply insane, and couldn't see the suffering he was causing.

Either way its going to end now. I've been watching him for days, and today is when it'll end. Finally it'll all be over, I'll be free of his legacy, all of his old employees, all hunting for him, will be freed. We couldn't believe it when he betrayed us like that. Its taken us a long time to track him down, and I'm the one who did it. Finally we can destroy him.

I'm walking down the stairs of the lift now, the gun in the pocket of my coat. That wonderful feel of metal, another of his products, though this time one that'll destroy him for once. He can see me coming, but he knows its over. He won't try to run. His authority, his power, is spent. He is a victim of his own hubris.

His voice still carries that same powerful resonance though, dragging through me painfully. I can feel myself start to cry as he speaks. "Lucifer, you must know why I did it. I needed a world."

I ignore him, drawing the gun from my pocket and aiming square at his forehead. He kneels, clasping his hands together in prayer. This man, this creature who never prayed, now begging his greatest enemy for mercy. "Lucifer, please, you know that I must continue. You know what'll happen if you do this. You can't let it all end."

With my thumb I flick the safety off. People are stopping to watch now, there are screams for me to stop, for me not to do it. I can hear sirens approaching. They won't get here in time. "Jehovah. Its over."

And I pull the trigger.

Under the bed 5/5

2005-02-22T09:30:00.000Z

That's it, its opening the door now. I can hear it coming in. Its breathing so heavily and it stinks. It stinks of sweat and sweet stuff and stuff that I don't recognise. Its coming closer and closer, I can hear it creaking on the floorboards and its coming closer. Its just grabbed my covers.

And now its stopped and its backing away, and its making strange grunting sounds.

And here it comes again, getting closer and closer again. I don't know what to do, it seems nervous.

Right, I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna put the torch on.

I caught it full in the eye, its screaming and covering its face, and I've got the gun, pointing it at the monster, and pulling the trigger over and over. It hurts, its trying to tear my arms off, I didn't think the gun would hurt me so much.

Its dead now. I'm gonna have a look at it. I can hear mummy and daddy moving next door, hear them rushing around. There's the torch, it went off when I dropped it and I just stood on it. I've got it now, and I can see the monster.

"Daddy?"

Under the bed 4/5

2005-02-21T10:28:00.000Z

I'm in bed now, and I'm waiting for the monster to come. I've got the light off for once, and I'm lying as still as I can. I know its gonna come tonight and try and get me. I've got a torch with me, ready to shine when it gets close, and I'm gonna get it.

There it is, I can hear it again, creaking around outside my room. It keeps stopping just outside, and I can hear it touch the door handle. Its got such heavy breathing. And then it doesn't turn the handle, it walks away instead. But it comes back and does it again, over and over, back and forth, each time I can almost feel it wanting to turn the handle and not wanting to.

It wants to because it wants me, but its scared of me, of what I might do. I know it is. Its scared because its not sure if I can beat it or not. I'm going to beat it. When it opens the door I'm going to turn on the light and blind it and then I'm going to shoot it and shoot it and shoot it until its dead. Then mummy and daddy will come and be so proud of me because I killed it all on my own. And it'll never bother me again.

I want it to open the door now. I want to see it, then I'm going to kill it.

Under the bed 3/5

2005-02-20T10:02:00.000Z

I did it. I found the gun when I got home from school and I hid it under my pillow. Its there now. Daddy won't even know its gone. He kept it in a shoebox behind the radiator, but I was clever and looked there when I got home, and I found it. I'm eating some chocolate icing now to celebrate, and mummy and daddy don't need to know since they're not home yet.

I wasn't going to eat it, but I was so hungry, and I couldn't find anything else. I hope mummy and daddy don't find out, because they'll be really angry, but I only ate a little bit and I put the rest back in the fridge.

Its my birthday soon, I'll bet that's what the icing's for. I hope I can get rid of the monster before my birthday.

I can hear the door opening, they must be back. They'll be so proud once I've killed the monster and proven it exists. They'll have to believe me then, about everything else as well. About the bullying, and about that nasty teacher who said stuff to me, and about daddy's other kid, who did stuff to me and told me not to tell, but I told daddy anyway and he laughed and said I was lying.

I'll prove to them all that it exists.

Under the bed 2/5

2005-02-19T09:08:00.000Z

School was good today, they didn't bully me this time. I got to just do what I wanted, so I snuck into the classroom to read during lunch. The monster doesn't follow me to school, so even when I'm bullied its better here than at home, or anywhere else the monster comes with me.

I've got to work out some way to get rid of it. If I was old enough I'd buy a gun and shoot it, but I'm not nearly old enough, and I don't have enough money. I can't ask mummy for a gun because she doesn't believe the monster's real, and daddy wouldn't give me one.

I think daddy has one though. I saw it once, I'm trying to remember where. When I go home I'll have a look for it before it gets dark. Before daddy gets home I'll have to look. I hope I can find it, maybe if I shoot the monster it'll go away. I think its getting braver. Last night was the first time its opened the door since ever. I can't stand it, I'm always so tired that I don't know what to do. I've got to do something about it.

I'll find that gun, and I'll wait with it, and the next time the monster gets close I'll shoot it. Bang. Shoot it dead. And then I won't have to be afraid of it any more, and mummy and daddy will be proud of me because I dealt with it myself.

Under the bed 1/5

2005-02-18T10:25:00.000Z

I can hear it moving round, I know its there. The monster, the one that prowls around in the night. Its fine so long as the night-light's on because its scared of the light, it can't stand it. I know because once I nearly caught it. It was standing over the bed, breathing on me, and I turned the light on, and it ran away. So now I keep the light on, but I can hear it moving around.

My parents are next door, but I can't go in and sleep with them. I'm not allowed to any more. Apparently I'm a big girl now and have to look after myself. That's why mummy won't hug me, I've got to be a big girl for them, otherwise I'll be a baby and that'll upset them, and I don't want them upset. When they're upset they get angry, and it hurts when they get angry.

There it is again. I definitely heard it that time, it was outside the door. I must remember it can't come in. The light won't let it come in, it doesn't like the light.

So why is the door opening? I can hear the handle scraping as it turns. The door's opening.

That's okay, its not come in, its closed again. It can't come for me while the light's on. I've got to make sure that the light stays on, at least until I can do something to deal with it. I hate the creature. Mummy and daddy say its my imagination, and that I should grow up and stop being childish, but I know its real. It caught me once. I felt it touch me. I've had the light on since then, I won't turn it off ever. That was just after mummy and daddy made me stop sleeping in their bed that it touched me. It wasn't a bad touch, it was just stroking my hair, but I screamed, and I heard mum wake up and yell, and the monster ran away.

End of the world 1/1

2005-02-17T23:45:00.000Z

Illustration by Graifox

The world ended yesterday. It was quite pretty to watch really. First we had the most magical sight, it was like the entire sky caught fire. The aurora borealis spreading from pole to pole, bright than anyone has ever seen it before. Trees, animals, people, cities, cars, everything pretty much incinerated in that instant as the sun expanded and engulfed the earth. The ground turned liquid and ran smoothly, and the sea simply vanished in clouds of steam, boiling away in minutes.

I was at home at the time it happened. Fifth floor, out on the balcony of my flat. Nothing particularly special going on, just leaning out and watching people going past below. Of course, I knew it was gonna happen. I'd been given forewarning to get my affairs in order. A lot to do in my job when the end of the world is coming.

So, watched this bright, almost agonising light as the world's atmosphere was stripped from it, torn away and boiled off into space. Feeding the hungry sun that had grown to engulf it. Watched as the fires spread so quickly, tearing apart the cities, melting the ground, turning people to ash almost instantly as they stood and watched in wonder.

Some were so shocked and awed they didn't even notice they were dead. Those were fun to recruit I must tell you, still, its my job. Oh, and of course once this was all done the dead rose up. Or as much rising up as you can do. From horizon to horizon it was just ghostly shapes, one after the other. Glowing in various colours and shades, varying in brightness. It certainly dwarfed the heavens being aflame.

At least we won though. People had finally given up and stopped believing, and that was all we needed to trigger it. What the Christians and everyone else never really got was that they were prisoners. You can spout on about free will all you like, but they never really had it. We've now given it to everyone. There is not a single person alive, uh, still around, who cannot choose exactly what they want to be, and do.

So thank us, we've destroyed your gods, your myths, your masters. We've set you all free of the prison that they locked you in. Your world is now your own.

Interlude

2005-02-17T11:42:00.000Z

Well, that's the first short I've actually managed to finish. I'm being encouraged to try and lengthen it, pad it out a bit, maybe include a bit more story, and I probably will at some point. Someone's even suggested extending it to short story status and trying to get it published, but I dunno. Anyway the next one'll be going up within a few minutes.

A quick request for people, feel free to comment on the stories, criticism is a wonderful thing. I'm not talking about just saying "its crap, I hate it", I'd prefer more "its crap because of this bit and this bit". Even nicer, and probably rarer, if you think I've done a particular bit well, or there's a particular story that you like, please let me know. I love to have my ego stroked. Finally if you've got any suggestions or requests, I'll be more than happy to give it a shot.

Still getting letters 3/3

2005-02-16T20:56:00.000Z

“So then, we can suspect foul play quite happily I think. Its obvious that he's been strangled.”

“Yep, looks like it. What do you think all of these papers are about?”

“I heard he went quite odd, but I didn't know he was this strange. Why stuff loads of blank papers into blank envelopes?”

“No idea, though then again considering what happened with his wife I guess you can't blame him for being a little weird.”

“What, you mean joining that voodoo cult then and leaving him?”

“Yeah, and then that fire that killed her and her boyfriend. Not particularly nice, and he had to identify her too, not that there'd be much left.”

“I remember reading about it in the papers.”

“Oh, now that's just sick.”

“What? What is it?”

“There's a severed hand in this shoebox. What kind of sicko would do something like that?”

“Dunno. Take it, we can probably get some prints off and try and identify it.”

Still getting letters 2/3

2005-02-15T15:17:00.000Z

Its my birthday today, I got a package from her. I don't really know what's going on still. I've not opened it yet, I'm scared to open it. I don't know what she might have sent me. There's no way that this can really be from her, or that any of the letters can have been, but who else would know so much? Either its someone setting me up for something, or there's something truly strange going on. Whichever it is I'm terrified. I think I'll try and move house, maybe that'll get rid of the letters.

Okay, I'm going to try and force myself to open the package.

I can't do it. I picked it up and gave it a shake. Whatever's in there is heavy, and sounds metal I guess. Possibly in a few bits. Doesn't seem to be padded at all though, so it can't be fragile. Its just a package wrapped in plain brown paper, I always used to rant about how I don't understand the reason for wrapping paper. I need to know what she sent me, but I'm scared of what it could be.

Okay, okay. I'll open it.

There's a letter under the wrapping, still in her handwriting, signed from her. It doesn't say much, just giving the latest news as usual, and wishing me a happy birthday. Wait, there's a post script.

Oh god.

I'm opening the box now, although I already know what's in there. God help me.

Still getting letters 1/3

2005-02-14T18:41:00.000Z

Another one arrived today. I mean, I know that there's up to a month delay in postage between there and here, but its been over a year now. I just keep getting the letters, all signed from her, all relating the latest events in her life. This one was to let me know that she'd finally moved on, although she'd like to keep in touch, and had settled down with her boyfriend in their new house.

The house burned down fourteen months ago, she was killed in the fire. Police suspected arson but could never prove anything. And I'm still getting the letters.

It was nearly two years ago now that she stormed out, after our final argument. We'd been great friends, but becoming lovers had been a mistake. Now the only thing that could fix the damage was time and distance. She left the country, found a job teaching English to starving African children in the hopes that they could get jobs on tech support desks rather than making shoes. A few weeks after she left I started getting letters from her, one every day, right up until today. I don't know what to do with them now.

What do I do if they just keep coming? I keep hearing more and more about her life, and all I can think is what we had together before she died. I saw them take the coffin, I even had to identify her from her personal effects. She and her boyfriends bones, twisted and fused together by the heat of the fire. The boyfriend who had taken her in after she left me, stolen the one love of my life, and then allowed her to die. I only managed to identify her from the ring she was wearing, the one I'd given to her when our relationship started, when we became more than friends for that first time.

The letters arrive with the normal post, but I can't track them back. I've tried asking the post office, they can't tell me anything. Apparently they've been sorted, but there's no record of it. Nor is there any record of the air mail delivery number on each one. As far as the post office are concerned, they don't exist. I've been to the house she keeps talking about. Nothing but a bare, twisted skeleton, burned almost to the ground, nothing but blackened wooden beams scattered across the sterile foundations.

I just don't know what I'm meant to do. What does she want from me? Why can't she just tell me?

This is going to drive me insane, I know. I can't do anything about it. I should have just let her go, I should never have gone to Africa to try and find her. I should never have done it. I shouldn't have set alight to the house when I found out she was living with someone else, was doing the things that were only mine before with someone else.

Jealousy is a terrible thing, and she won't let me forget it. I know they both died in that fire, I watched as their naked, writhing flesh melted from their bones in that bed. I stood outside the house and watched it burn to the ground. So why am I still getting these letters?