Fantastical Deduction

Well, its Saturday and we had Jack in the Box and some homemade spagett-saucian food, grandma came over too so yea! But I had to take a Klonopin, my seizures were up so that's bad. Anyway, I really like today's story. It's not necessarily my best of works, but its different from what I usually write. I hope you enjoy! 

Fantastical Deduction

The detective had his suspects lined up in his mind. He mentally juggled them. All of them had their own motives to kill the wizard. The ghost who had been imprisoned by the wizard had the most obvious motive. But after his prison sentence the ghost had been released, and the ghost had been a model citizen on his parole so he seemed truly reformed. That and he had a rock solid albi. Over twenty people had reported seeing the ghost that night. The corpse of the wizard had been burnt. This implicated the demon and dragon the most, though magic fire was an ability possessed by species of the shadow realms and could be emulated with the proper spells if the beings without magical abilities.

The magic fire had been an obvious frame job, an effort to pin the murder on the wizard's own pet dragon. Recently there had been cases of dragons going mad and attacking their owners, some kind of plague, and the actual murderer tried to blame the murder on this. When the detective had his team run another set of tests on the body and the scene of the crime they found fairy dust that they traced back to an imp named Klilli, one of many imps who dealt in stealing magic and magical items, a robbery gone wrong the imp confessed to the detective.

Judgement is Multiple Choice

Well had to take two Klonopin today, which is unfortunate since I missed the anime club I go to every week(this made me so mega sad, all my friends are there! Oh, noes!) Anyway, the Klonopin also made it very hard for me to write a story, so here's one from my archives way back from 2009. I've been feeling sick most of today, especially after taking the Klonopin but we avoided any big incidents. Anyway I hope you enjoy today's story!

Judgment is Multiple Choice

Saint Peter, our teacher, sat at his golden desk right next to the Pearly Gates. If we passed the exam we could walk through the Gates into infinite recess, however if we failed we would be sent straight to room 666 for eternal detention. Mr. Peter stood up from his desk, holding the cloud-white bubble sheets for the exam. He also had the question packets in hand; each had a smoke-black cover. The Saint walked to each of our desks looking at our faces with those ancient eyes as he handed out the materials for the exam, including silver coated pencils.

I looked around the classroom at the other students. Every one besides me was old. They must have died of natural causes, as most of them were wrinkled like throw away paper and had teeth like coral. I did not die of natural causes; a drive by shooting had taken me away from my parents at the age of sixteen.

Even in the afterlife I had my horrible acne, youthful strength, and ripe mind. I was still in school when I died, while these old men had left it fifty years ago. Hopefully this would give me an advantage on the exam. I started to clench my teeth in pain; I still had the bullet from the shooting in my heart. I hoped this hurt would not break my focus during the exam.

Saint Peter cleared his throat, “There is only one rule students, do not cheat on the exam. Anyone caught cheating will be immediately sent to detention. Begin.”

I flipped open the exam as I bubbled in my name on the answer sheet. I saw no words on the page. This was when Saint Peter turned off the lights and the font on the page appeared as a holy glow on the page. I started to read the question.

“If God was an animal, what animal would he be?” This question confused me. I expected questions regarding the secrets the universe, not this. I became even more surprised when I read the answers.

“A) Penguin”

“B) Bear”

“C) Dove”

When I saw dove I immediately reached for the bubble sheet. This question’s answer was glaringly obvious; the dove is a symbol of holiness, what a fitting animal for God. But before I began to fill in the bubble, the corner of the eye saw the answer D.

“D) Human”

I realized now the logic behind this question. Humans are animals, just like any other. And the Bible, our study guide, said that God crafted humans in his image. Thus God would be a human. I bubbled in the answer with great confidence. Smiling a little at my tiny show of enlightenment.

One other student noticed my confidence and decided to take a peek at my paper. As soon as he did the floor opened up beneath him sending him straight to detention screaming as the fire engulfed him. After that none of the students, including myself, dared to take their eyes off their paper.

The questions only became weirder, but somehow I managed to figure out God’s bizarre logic on each of them.

“What type of coupon is God most fond of?” The answer was, of course, buy one get one free. One of God’s many lessons is that if you give you shall receive. Next up: “If the square root of heaven is 42, and 42 is Elvis times love, what is Q?” Duh, I thought, the answer’s 1,345,001 and a half. Soon I began blazing through the test like some cleansing fire. Somehow, God’s backwards logic made sense to me. The answers just came to me as if he was whispering them in my head. Jesus’ dog, a pink skirt, foppish communism, Dennis and so many more answers came to me like I had all invited to some otherworldly birthday party.

The last question however, made no sense whatsoever. All the other questions had a perfectly logical answer, if you thought about it enough. This question however, lived as an abomination. I cringed as soon as I read it. Immediately the futility of thinking about it struck me. The question read:

“Box?”

“A) True”

“B) False”

I began to cry when I looked at the point value of the question written on the side of the page. This question was worth 50 points. The total exam points equaled 100! All the other questions were worth only a point apiece. Even if I get every other question right, if I don’t get this one, I cannot get a passing grade! How could I get this one right? I could guess, but I didn’t want to risk going to detention based on a written coin flip.

I cursed God for this question. All the confidence I gained from the other questions, the certainty I felt, was crushed by him in a moment. I damned him, and every person who had managed to pass this test from the blind luck question. Is this part of that damn divine plan of his? To leave a soul’s fate up to Lady Luck? The pain from the bullet in my chest hurt more than it had ever had before.

I cleared my mind. I figured I had to tackle this question whether or not I wanted to. However, before bubbling, I gave God a quick prayer. It was the best I could do, before I put my answer down: “D) False”.

The buzzer ran for time, several people didn’t even get past the first question, and were frantically filling in bubbles. Peter took everyone’s tests by force besides mine; I gave it to him willingly.

He went through the Pearly Gates to grade our tests. While he was gone the other students talked amongst themselves. Most of them complaining about how impossible the test was. But one of the other students did not complain, she sat in the very back. At first when I saw I thought I was looking at a statue. But no, before me sat a person, she looked to be half ready to turn to dust.

Saint Peter returned to the classroom, with the tests in hand. He frowned as he said, “I’m sorry, but only one of you got a passing grade.” He sighed as he pointed at the woman in the back, “Susan Smith, you may go to recess now.”

The woman stood up and slowly walked out of the classroom, the other students cursed at her. I was worried more about myself. I started to imagine detention, the fire tickling my feet like razors. Peter began to speak again.

“The rest of you will be sent to detention…except for you. See me after class.” Peter pointed at me. Suddenly all the other students dropped through the floor to room 666. I walked to the front of the room up to Saint Peter. What did he have to say to me I wondered.

“Adam, you’re grade was a 59.9 percent.” I felt ripped off, I mean, how the hell did I get .9 percent, all the questions were worth whole points! “Adam, let me tell you a secret. Whatever you answered on the test is irrelevant to your score; your score is completely determined by how you answer the questions. You were pretty arrogant during most of the test, however you showed humility and trusted your fate to God at the end. So I talked to Principle Jesus and we decided to round your grade up to a D. Welcome to heaven Adam.”

The Cyberspace Carnival

Well, going to a welcome back party today for a cousin that went to South Korea(Her husband is in the military) so I'm excited. I had a to take another Klonopin, started to get the bad feelings I get before my seizures get bad, so I took it and I feel much better so I think I stopped the incidents(I also stopped having seizures I was having) though I'm afraid it may have hurt today's story editing wise, but I think I came up with a good concept for today's story so yeah, it'll turn out good in the end. I hope you enjoy!

The Cyberspace Carnival

       Children and adults alike went into cyberspace alike to witness the carnival coming into their servers. School work and house work could wait, every Saturday was reserved for the carnival, and very few families thought otherwise. With smiles of excitement on their faces families zipped up their virtual suits and jumped into the reality next door.

       Rainbows of fireworks filled the skies of cyberspace and during the carnival they programmed the grass to sway like rippling water hit with a rain of pebbles. The people moved about in this cyberspace enjoying the warm spring atmosphere the holders of the carnival programmed in for them.

       Clowns doing the impossible flew through the air. In cyberspace, the performers had no limitations, so feats of danger didn't impress the audience quite as much as the clowns making stones turn into clouds and then dancing among them. One of the clowns, creatively named Bozo2373.exe had been programmed with just enough of a simulation of emotion to be able to smile at the audience as his act came along. His routine involved him dancing along with seven other clowns in equally colorful outfits, he smiled at the audience, he knew joy while he danced so he could smile at any members of the audience that were looking at him. His happiness ended as his act did and he vanished into the clown car. In the clown car he was stuffed into a zip file until the next carnival to be decompressed and let out to entertain the masses again.

The Guardian Demon

Had to take 2 Klonopin today(Nasty med that mentally impairs me) so my writing is probably going to suffer, forgive any sloppy editing in today's story. Had some strong seizures too, jerks to the side big gasps, nasty stuff, but I didn't get hurt, but two Klonopin in my system can slow me down a little, and to think I was doing so well, *sighs*. I did finish working on catching up on my book(before school started and my blog I was working on a book, I stopped it when I started up school, over the past few days since I did a medical withdrawal from the teaching program I thought I would try to keep writing it over this semester and summer. I will be continuing this blog of course, as I think its a good way to keep my creative mind fresh and doing all of these stories also helped me brainstorm the book. Now that I've reviewed my book to get myself up to date I'm going to start the physical writing of the book tomorrow. But now onto today's flash fiction and hopefully the Klonopin didn't affect the quality of it too much.

The Guardian Demon

        The guardian angels got to give humans good fortune, guide them through rough times, and bless them families and sunny days. In the Second Dimension they got all the good press while Guardian Demons like Durrianzor the Terrible, who was just doing his job, got bad press. He had to give humans bad luck, misfortune, cause feuds and rain. The world needed darkness as much as the world needed light, they are defined by each other.

       Durrianzor the Terrible didn't hate his Guardian Angel coworkers and smiled at them with his mangled fangs and twisted horns as they passed each other in the halls. He even had a cubicle next to Aleni the Lightbringer. Though when they locked eyes with warm looks they both wondered if they should mix their work life and social life.

The City Between

       Oh, this day is so clear, I didn't have any Klonopin yesterday, my head feels really good, I got a wonderful sleep last night with vivid and beautiful dreams and I'm mentally ready and roaring! Oooooh yeah! XD Even had time to work on my book and today's story so even better! Yes, the rush of being at full mental capacity. So yeah, here's today's story!

The City Between

        The two lovers held hands while they walked through the otherwise empty city. Not another soul was in the massive city, though it had skyscrapers, malls, parks, roads and sewers. A full moon hung above them, it swayed back and forth like the clock of a hypnotist. They only thought of each other, not noticing when they passed directly through the bricks and concrete of the buildings or when they reached the river at one end of the city they wrapped back to the other side of the city. They never noticed that they were more pale and translucent than before they entered the coffins after the accident.

The Memory Artist

Well, spoke with my doctor today. My side effects have not been bad, plus I haven't had to take the nasty Klonopin medication, woo! I think this really shows in the quality of today's story which I think is really good. I hope you all enjoy it! I change my dosage in a few days and I hope that goes well too, here's to hoping. Anyway, enjoy the story.

The Memory Artist

       The artist didn't care about her fashion and wore thin, comfortable clothes while she created her pieces of art. She could even sleep in these clothes comfortably, in fact it was regular habit for her to go straight from working to bed. She washed her hair, but hardly combed it, yet it stayed naturally straight. She would yawn when she wasn't tired and would smile whenever an idea crept into her head.

     She worked at a memory projector, a gift her father got her for her fifth birthday and had been working at it ever since even though better models had come along. The big metal box had a touch screen interface and projected an image onto a hologram on top.

      She pushed a few buttons and a classroom appeared in the hologram the professor still writing on the board. She erased the image of numbers and letters on the chalkboard and replaced it with a different memory, that of a wedding ceremony. But she filtered on top of that, like a screen door, the image of a funeral proceeding, with an open casket, with a little girl inside. The memory was on a warm spring day.

      She went to bed that night and had soft, wonderful dreams and awoke the next day, inspired to make another work.

The Soceress's Cards

Today we celebrated my bro's 27^th birthday, we went to see John Carter(New movie, its pretty good sci-fi fans based on a book published 100 years ago! And one of the first sci-fi adventure books, written by the guy who wrote Tarzan if I recall correctly. Overall a good movie, if you want good eye candy with a decent plot I recommend it.)

The Sorceress's Cards

        The prince gave much gold to gain use of the sorceress's powers. He sat down at a marble table opposite of her. Her visage betrayed her true age. The sorceress was hundreds of years old but through deals with mortals and devils she had kept her youth and looks and gained powers. She dressed herself in magnificent jewelry, no doubt a direct projection of her ego onto her body. All of it pure gold, silver and diamonds.

       “Oh, young prince, you have youth, strength, a vast kingdom, wealth, an intelligent mind. What could you want from me?” she asked him. She had his payment in gold sitting in a pouch on the table.

        “I want to the see the future.” he told her.

        “Well, you could just wait.” she laughed, she had received her payment, so she had all day as far as she was concerned.

        “I want to see what life holds for me.” he told her.

       “Alright, I'll see what the cards have to say.” she pulled out a musty, old deck of cards from a shelf to her left. She shuffled them three times and spread them across the table. Then she three upward. “I think that three is an appropriate amount.” The first had the picture of the grim reaper, the second a picture of a pink heart under a beautiful moon, the third had a picture of him. “I can only tell you possible futures, you see the future depicted on the card. Pick up the reaper and I will tell you when you will die, pick up the heart and I will tell you when you will fall in love, pick up you and I will tell you when you will achieve your greatest accomplishment.”

The prince thought and thought, he then picked up the card with the heart and handed to the witch.

         “You don't fear death, and you don't want to know you greatest accomplishment, what a brave and humble man you are.” she laughed. “You will notice a girl, a simple servant girl you overlooked in your castle time and time again, but this time you'll bump into her, and because of our little talk you'll know she's the one. And if you don't believe me, look into her eyes."

Dancing Through Dimensions

Grandmother had to be away for Christmas last year, so now we had another Christmas dinner just for her! So yeah, Christmas in March, it was nice to have dinner w/ the family again. Christmas in March lol! Well, here's today's story(took two Klonopin today, so it may not be the best edited)

Dancing Through Dimensions

         The student held her teacher's hand with confidence. He had taught every step of every style from the tango to the waltz. His long blonde hair contrasted his black coat and its softness matched his hands.

        “Today's lesson I will be teaching you a lesson in a dance that few have ever performed. Remember that bracelet I gave you yesterday? It will allow to perform this dance. I'm wearing one of its kind too.” the teacher showed his silver bracelet. She remembered hers and it shined like the moon when she held it up to him.

       “It's been said that we live in a world of three dimensions, height, width and depth, well, in truth, there are more than that.” the teacher smiled, “Today that is how we will be dancing, through the other directions, the ones that your grade school geometry book neglected to mention and your eye normally doesn't tell you is there.” The ring began to glow and her foot no longer stood where it did, it moved away from where it was, but not left, right, up, down, forwards or backwards, just somewhere else. This fourth direction she was told about, this her body rocked to a fro this fourth dimension while remaining completely still in her old perceptions, her magic bracelet keeping her sane.

      Her teacher smiled and the bracelets turned gold and now a fifth direction came into play. The teacher grabbed her and pulled her around like he was pulling her through a waltz, but now he incorporated the additional dimensions and managed to fold upon himself.

      “Now you try.” he commanded her with a reassuring smile. “Pull me, and create your own dimensions.”

       She pulled him along, creating dimension after dimension, to create a web where height, width and depth were just a simple foundation they floated across, but eventually they had to rest, their bodies couldn't handle dancing forever, especially after stretching one hundred dimensions across them.

“Now, tomorrow, we will cover the various styles.” the teacher said with a smile to the student.

The End of the Hall

That Topamax medicine hit me really hard and made my limbs feel rough, rubbery and painful. Owwie I say. Owwie. I also had to take a Klonopin today so I'm feeling a bit bad, hopefully this won't affect today's story(I waited before writing so the mental side effects subsided a little). Anyway, here it is!(Hopefully the editing isn't too bad because of the drugs! XD)

The End of the Hall

        Two lovers walked through the hall while they held hands. They were like mirror images. The man had deep black hair and skin and the woman a bright white blonde hair and pale white skin. He was tall, she was small. He had a confident smile on his face and she had a shy blush. The man's laugh was loud while her's was like someone whispering a secret. At the end of the hall sat a wizard reading a magic book.

       “So you are the ones with the perfect hearts?” the wizard asked, the wizard shaved his beard everyday to avoid any stereotypes.

        “Yes, the magician's guild selected us.” they told him.

        “I thank you for your sacrifice.” the magician then quickly recited magic words, with an expression on his face as if he had fired a gun at both of them. They bodies became balls of light, one blue and one red. They merged and flew into the left the hall spreading magic dust from their new body across the land. A long winter turned to spring and the harvests were plentiful until they had to send another perfect pair of hearts down the hall.

The Sleeping God

My limbs feel like rubber, literally, Dr. Maganti(My epilepsy doctor) was right when he said it would be obvious when the topamax(new seizure med we are trying out) side effects kicked in(but he didn't tell me what they were to avoid placebo phenomenon) but ohmygoodness wow dearieme have I been feeling rubbery all day, also had to take that Klonopin for seizures again today too. Today has not been the bestest in the world to say the least. At least I managed to get a blog post out, but since today was a bad day I didn't get enough time to write it long, so I hope it still turned out good. I hope you enjoy.

The Sleeping God

The god awoke as it did every year in the kingdom. The god was made of iron and the people made the castle its bed and the king its caretaker. It tilled fields and made rivers just as easily as it tore down villages and mountains. Offerings were placed in its path, from food, to sculptures to paintings to people, but the god just kept walking, shifting the world around it. Then, after causing its mayhem, it would sleep for another four seasons and wake up once again.

The Cloaked Fishermen

Well, Today we went out to dinner for grandmother's birthday, to a Japanese restaurant, one of those really cool ones where they cook the food right in front of you, lighting it on fire and everything. (Yay propane!) the person juggled the rice and chicken etc. and it was quite the spectacle. Murdoc, the youngest child in the family was quite amused by it all, especially when the fire burst out. Last time I went to that kind of restaurant was when I was ten, and I'm twenty one now and I still remember it quite vividly, similar experience, but the restaurant from before had a fishpond. Anyway, that's enough of my rambling, onto today's story!

The Cloaked Fishermen

          Along the river the cloaked fishermen dropped their hooks into the never ending river. They reeled in their bait quickly taking a quick glance. The gray cloaked fishermen sat in groups of fours, talking meaningless gossip while they looked over who they hooked up from the river. Their hooks pulled up souls from the river and from only a simple a glance the fishermen could tell whether it was time for the soul to be taken from the river or thrown back in. Their requirements wouldn't make sense to the ones in the river, it wasn't age, beauty, wealth or power, there was no magic method to change the mind of one of the cloaked fishermen either. But they had their method, no matter how cruel, it was how it was and the ones in the river had to deal with the hooks as they went into the river and pulled them out.

The Discs

Been hanging out with a friend today, so I didn't have much time to write a story, but I got something out. I hope you enjoy.

The Discs

The clients put in one disc into the device and saw themselves as wise and old. Another disc made them young and beautiful. They could get a disc that made them warriors or wizards. Singers or dancers. Painters or sculptors. They could even be demons or angels in the worlds of the devices, superheroes in the night. Whatever popped into the designers mind could become an avatar for the player through the illusions of the discs. Though no matter how much the designers of the virtual realities tried, they could not make a disc that could create the form of the user themselves. That was not a magic contained in the discs.

The Scholar's Dance

Well, while Mom, Grandma, Aunt Linda and Samantha are all going to the Casino I'm staying home with my best friend CJ and we're going to play video games, most likely Marvel vs Capcom or Batman Arkham City. I had to take a Klopin yesterday, but I feel good this morning so I have high hopes for today. Oddly enough I have less seizures when I play video games then when I don't (or maybe I just don't notice them?)

Anyway, here's a story from my archives, as I didn't get a chance to write one with my friend being here and everything. It's copy and pasted from a word document so sorry for any odd formatting.

The Scholar's Dance

The scholar sat in the library reading an abused book. He nearly cried as he flipped the pages, he thought no book should be treated in such a way. Over the many years he had read books he had felt a sort of connection form between him and them. The scholar had long machine gray hair, because of all the time he spent reading he often forgot to cut it. His shirt had an obnoxious plaid pattern; the colors were so loud they disrupted the silence of the library. His skin had become a pale tint, he never spent any time in the sun, the library had no windows, so he couldn’t pry himself away from the texts long enough to go outside. His large flabby bottom was constantly sore because he refused to read anywhere besides his favorite chair in the back. It was brand new when he read his first book seventy years ago. Now it could barely supported his weight and creaked with every movement. The only reason the librarian kept the chair was for him.

The old book he was holding flew away from he. He looked on in shock as the pages of the book flew apart and fluttered in the air like butterflies. They started to form into some sort of tornado. Around and around they went, tightening closer and closer to something in the middle. After a few seconds the pages stopped flying and fell to the ground, revealing a woman.

She had gray hair like his, but it glowed with her eternal youth. The woman had perfect skin and a perfect figure, and stood with a perfect posture. To the scholar she seemed to be young enough to be his granddaughter, but he somehow also knew that she was many years his senior. He marveled at her dress, it was made of the finest silk, and had a white color dotted with millions of black dots swirling down its sides. When she walked towards him the dress flowed and folded, the pattern giving the illusion of monochrome waves flowing around her. When he looked closely at the dots, he realized they were actually words printed in some infinitely small font.

She did not speak to him; she simply extended her arm towards him and smiled. Even without words he understood her gesture. She wanted to dance. He stood up and took her hand. A soon as he did that the mysterious lady pulled him toward her. She began to dance with him, his frail old body unable to keep up with her strides as she threw him about like a rag doll. She danced dances nobody had ever done before. It seemed as though she was simply making them up. But the scholar knew she wasn’t, her strides were so methodical that it seemed she had known these dances since birth.

He tried to keep up with her; he learned her dances as fast as he could. But as soon as he mastered one she began another. She pulled the scholar through every section in the library. She whisked him through the Fantasy section, tossed him through the History section, and drifted with him through the Romance section, stopping to kiss him before moving on to Horror.

The scholar fell deeply in love with this woman, whoever she was. He wanted to know every one of her infinite dances. He felt like she had made him fall into some bottomless pit of love. He looked at her eyes as if they were a book cover. It was a great cover for such a beautiful woman, vibrant and bright. He felt like she was reading her, every step being a page of a wonderful story of love.

She stopped in the front of the library, next to the exit and let go of his hand. When he stopped feeling her touch he grew cold. She began to walk out the door.

“No don’t leave! I want to keep dancing,” he begged for at least few more steps at her side. She continued on her way out. He didn’t want her to leave the library it was his only home. “Please don’t go! I don’t even know you’re name!”

“My name is Knowledge.” she replied. Now he knew the why he had fallen in love with her. She was the reason he had read all those books over the years. He was trying to find her all along. “You may keep dancing with me if you wish. But only a few dances I know are within this library. My steps go far beyond these pages. And to learn all my dances you must go outside with me.” She continued to walk out the door.

The scholar looked behind him at the entirety of the library. He had fallen in love with the books contained inside. But now he realized that he must leave the confines of the library to truly begin his pursuit of that wonderful woman. He bid his books farewell and grabbed her hand once more. Together they strode out of the library and began the next dance.

The Base Humanity Integration Project Final Ep

Welcome to the “season finale” of The Base Humanity Integration Project. Well, this was my first attempt at doing an interlocking series of flash fictions. I had a general direction of where it was it was going, but there was no specific outline. Anyway, I recommend you go back and re-read all the previous episodes for this finale, there all in the previous blog posts.

The Base Humanity Integration Project

Season 1 Final Episode:The Salesman

          When Allen grew conscious he noticed he was in some sort of huge warehouse full of people on tables. Base humans. Normal people. Some unconscious, some screaming, some just laying there, having given up an hour ago. All of the base humans were bound except when allowed to relieve themselves where cyborg guards stood watch.

        “You woke up quick.” the man that kidnapped him said. Allen remembered his name was Eric, and his blonde hair and ocean blue eyes showed him as a member of the Samson family. He couldn't imagine that Harry could have such a brother. Eric's purple alloy had a deep glow, like a ghost's skin in the moonlight.

        “Where am I?” Allen asked, still a little out of it from the sleeping gas.

         “A mid-way point. From here we ship you out to the labs where we do the real operations. I'm the just the middle man.” Eric held a clipboard in front of him. “See, there are a lot of rich and powerful base humans in the world. And they want to be cyborgs, like us, but that technology doesn't exist yet, for now you can only become a cyborg at birth otherwise your body rejects it. That's where you come in, they're doing experiments to develop the technology, but considering its illegal and dangerous that's where people like me come in. To get people like you for them.”

       “So I'm just product?” Allen asked, already starting to imagine the scientists looming over him with surgical implements.

        “Exactly. Wow, for a clear-face you catch on pretty quickly.” Eric said, the purple alloy on his skin gave it an unsettling lizard-like texture. His hair and eyes made him look more like his human captives. “Think of it this way. If it wasn't me getting you. It would be someone else. There would always be a salesman and a product.”

       “You, thing, you don't even deserve to be called human.” Allen told him, his voice still weak from the side effects of the sleeping gas.

Eric laughed, “But I'm not even human am I? We're cyborgs, a step above you animals, and you wouldn't believe how much money I'm making off of each of you. The little nerds down at the labs will be giving me mountains of money for their test subjects.” Eric gave Allen a big smile first of happiness then of horror. He pulled out the cellphone from Allen's pocket. He turned to his thugs and screamed, “Which one of you damn idiots forgot to take away his cellphone!?”

         “What's a cellphone?” one of the cyborg thugs asked with a blank stare on his face.

         “It's something base humans use to communicate without internal Internet access like us.” Eric filled with so much anger his purple alloy became a thick lava red. “The point is that cellphones have GPS!” his face then sagged with a depressed frown. “The police. They've already tracked us with this.” Eric handed the cellphone back to Allen. “Damn clear-face.”

          They could already see the lights of police cars through the old windows of the warehouse, with the whirring helicopters in the sky and sirens all around. The captives didn't need to see the warehouse doors being burst down to know they were free. The cyborgs were very orderly with how they released the captives, going up and down the rows of beds that the captors had set up. Allen was one of the last ones to go. Right as he exited the warehouse doors he saw a familiar face.

         “Well Allen, its time to go home.” Mr. Woods said his scaled copper skin having more of a clean polish than usual.

==

It was fun writing this, though I'm not sure how soon in the future I'll be doing another series like this or be doing “Season 2” I do like these characters though, and they've got plenty of room for development! I'll probably be going back to my completely standalone flash fiction format for awhile again until I come up with another idea for a series or a continuation of this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it all.

The Base Humanity Integration Project Ep6

Sorry it took so long to finish the next episode of The Base Humanity Integration Project, but I've been through a lot. We've decided to withdraw me out of the teaching program while we try new medication. I just can't keep up with school and interning with all these seizures and epileptic incidents, I can't go to school when I have Klonopin in me, I just can't handle the stress, so I've quit school for now while the doctor has us experiment with more medications. And maybe, just maybe, by the end of summer we'll have a cure for me. Anyway enjoy this next episode of The Base Humanity Integration Project.

The Base Humanity Integration Project

Episode 6: Allen's Birthday Bash

           “Happy birthday Allen!” the father shouted at him while balloons decorated the living room. Allen figured they must have set everything up while he was asleep. “Mr. Woods told us it was your birthday today.” the father motioned over to Mr. Woods who stood in the corner of the room like a piece of furniture. “We each got you a gift!”

          “Thank you, you shouldn't have.” he picked up the first gift, a box that could have been anything based on the plainness of its shape. A plain cardboard rectangle in red wrapping. On the box “From Edna” on it. He pulled extraordinarily fashionable clothes from it, and everything matched him, from his brown eyes to red hair. “Wow, these are incredible.” he decided he would try on all the shirts later.

          He then picked up a large gift labeled “From Harry.” he wondered what the father would have gotten him. It was a massive soccer ball, most likely designed for cyborgs, but he figured how could Harry get him one made for base humans?

         “I remembered you said you liked soccer, so I got you a soccer ball.” said Harry.

Allen next pulled out a plastic bag tied with a neat blue bow. On it was a little tag “From Mr. Woods and the Rosses.” Allen pulled the bow out and candy bars spilled onto the table.

        “Thanks!” Allen said in delight as he picked them up.

         “Yeah, it was tough getting those through customs, but I figure some food from home would be nice. Your family told me your favorites.” Mr. Woods grinned, his scaled, penny colored skin gave a sparkle.

         “Open mine next next!” Jessica smiled while she held up her present to him, “Please!” Allen opened it for her and pulled out a little pink origami crane. “We learned how to make it art class, I wanted you to have it Mr. Ross.” he then smiled, “I mean Allen.”

         “I'll put it on the counter in my room.” Allen told her.

Allen then picked up the next gift that he guessed to be a book from its wrapping. He opened it to a drawing of him on the cover of a light comic book. It was titled “The New Samsons” and at the bottom was written “Illustrated by Rose Samson”. The pages were smooth and Allen was impressed by the style in the inking and strokes of the pen. He never knew Rose had such talent. Every page was a portrait of some point in their lives together as a family. She had been so silent, but really she gathered things in her mind like a camera and recreated nearly every moment on paper. From the first moment she saw him to the night before, it had all been documented almost like a safari. “This is wonderful Rose.” Allen gave her a big, wide smile all across his clear face. Rose smiled back with bright eyes.

         “Hey,” Jacob said with a strong tone, “This is for you.” Jacob gave a tiny package to Allen. He opened it and there was a cellphone inside. “I figured that since you aren't wired to the Internet like we are you could use it to give us a call when you need it. It can't call over the borders to your home country though.”

        “How did you get this past customs? No official would let a cellphone through.” Woods asked, as shocked as if he had seen the sky turn green and the sea red.

        “I didn't.” he said, “I'm good with tech. I just built it myself.” the moody teenager responded. Allen put the cellphone in his back pocket.

        The doorbell rang and a little echo bounced through the house. Harry opened the door and a large cyborg with the family's blonde hair and blue eyes walked into the house, bumping past Harry without an invitation inward. The man had skin covered in a purple alloy. Two other cyborgs were behind him and moved into the home as well.

       “Eric, to what do we owe this unexpected surprise?” Harry growled at the man.

        “Now is that a tone to address your brother with?” the man responded with a smug grin. “I'll get to the point. Is he is still for sale? I'll double my original price, he's of a genotype we really need.”

        “Allen isn't for sale, he wasn't for sale, and he never will be for sale.” Harry snarled.

        “Rats. I was hoping to do this the easy way.” he and the two men behind him put on gas masks then threw smoke bombs filled with sleeping gas onto the ground. Sleeping gas not even the advanced bodies of the cyborgs could resist. The man told one of his thugs to carry Allen away and they left for their black van parked outside the building.

==

Stay tuned folks for Episode 7 the finale of the first “Season” of The Base Humanity Integration Project! It's going to be quite the climax!

The Base Humanity Integration Project Ep5

My medicine can sometimes make the easiest work hard. Its those Kepra flares and Klonopin side effects. One makes me more easily stressed(Kepra), while one makes me dumber(Klonopin) both are hitting me hard recently(I think the new medincine Onfi is setting them off, but I won't know until we speak to the doctor, but the timing of me increasing the Onfi to the side effects getting worse is close.) I've also had a couple hundred seizures today(of varying intensities) so this is one of those bad days where I had to take a Klonopin, I hate those days because I try to avoid taking the Klonopin so I deal with the seizures, hoping they'll get better because when I do take the Klonopin it throws me for a loop, I feel bad and it can give me headaches and impair my thinking. Usually I nap right after I take my Klonopin and I just woke up from one of them naps. Today's episode was written earlier in the day way before I wrote this post. At least writing isn't stressful though, but now I have much homework to catch up on, and not much time(or energy) to do it with.

Anyway, enjoy today's story!

The Base Humanity Integration Project

Episode 5:Honesty

         For the first time in the two weeks he had been living with the cyborg family he saw another base human. But not face-to-face, he only saw the base human on television. The base human had thin, long black hair and bright blue eyes like a clear day's sky.

          “Well, thanks for moving my car.” the base human took unnatural sounding pauses between his words, as if it was a large mental task for him to form them. “Anything I can help you with Mister?” the base human stared at the cyborg next to him, the only other character onscreen. The actor put a glazed look on his face, as if he was half-way drunk. The cyborg was wearing an officer's uniform. His skin was a rusty green and his hair a copper red.

          “Could you tell me if you've seen this man?” the cyborg cop pulled out a photo of another cyborg. This one quite villainous looking, with silver spikes where hair would be on a base human.

           “Why, yes, sir,” the base human took more and more pauses, as if dust had been collecting in his brain, “I saw him go, that way, earlier this morning.” the base human pointed off screen.

           “Of course he would head west, just as I figured.” the cyborg cop went into his car and drove off in pursuit of the suspect. Allen looked around the room. He wondered if the base human character on screen was an accepted stereotype. None of cyborg family reacted to the character acting like that. He took a glance at Harry, Jessica, John, Rose , and Edna. Did they all think he was as stupid as that character? The question jumped around in his head. After the cop caught the bad guy Harry opened up the television guide menu on the screen to see what else was on.

         “How about we watch something educational?” Allen said with a smile.

          “Oh, hum, how about this. I think you'll like this Allen.” the father selected a show with the remote. On the screen a show appeared with people in costumes representing the planets and other celestial objects. They were singing tunes for remembering facts about “them”. The costumes were big, exaggerated and colorful. After letting the show run for half a minute Allen couldn't take it anymore.

         “You really do think I'm stupid don't you?” Allen stood up and glared at all of them. “Well, do you?” he asked with the show still running in the background.

         “Well, um, we don't your as smart as us. But not stupid.” Harry attempted to make an honest recovery, though he was a terrible liar.

           “They won't say so, but yes, we all think your stupid because that's what you are clear-face.” Jacob stabbed Allen with his words.

           “At least he's honest.” Allen said with a gloomy yet scornful tone. He turned around and left for his room.

The Base Humanity Integration Project Ep4

I've had a bad past couple of days. But now I got better(better than bad, but I'm still not perfect, talking to the doctor on Monday about the meds I'm on) I was better enough to write the next episode of The Base Humanity Integration Project. If you don't remember the previous episodes, refresh by re-reading the old blog posts. I know after two days of reposted stories from my archives could have made your memory a bit foggier on this story series. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

The Base Humanity Integration Project

Episode 4: The Letter

          A cyborg child with steel feet did a slam dunk into a basketball hoop fifty feet into the air. The other cyborg children attempted to steal the ball away from him and replicate his move. Allen didn't notice them keeping score. He didn't care for any sport besides soccer. He thought the ball must have been reinforced somehow to withstand the force the cyborgs were slamming it with.

         At least the trees in the park looked normal. The sap from the trees looked like tears, he thought that maybe they were uncomfortable in the cyborg world like he was. Just by sitting there he attracted odd looks. A base human such as himself seemed like an obnoxious splatter of black on the uniform canvas of the cyborg world. He remembered how little Jessica thought his skin looked sick.

          “Hey clear-face.” Jacob Samson said, little bits of black plastic lined his jaw and tore the air as he spoke. The entire family decided to take him to the park as a welcoming present. “You're handler's here. I hope he's here to take you back.” Allen turned, diverting his attention from his food to Mr. Woods who sat at the table gently.

         “You must be tired Mr. Ross.” Woods knelt backwards, his penny colored skin reflecting the Sun like a sword would. “What with adjusting to your new family, and all their,” Woods then turned to Jacob and gave him a glare, “eccentricities.” His bright yellow eyes glanced all around the table, checking out each individual family member. Woods then pulled out a small, yellow envelop. “Now then, you know that its difficult to get things in and out of the borders of your country considering the volatile political situation but fortunately according to The Base Humanity Integration Project policy you can receive letters. So here you go.” Woods held out the letter to Allen. Jacob then grabbed the letter straight from Wood's hands, ripped the envelop open and read it to himself. The cyborg's eyes zipped across the paper, reading it in seconds. The cyborg's expression turned blank before he handed the letter to Allen. “Here,” he stopped for a quick moment. “Clear-face.” Allen read the letter to himself.

             “Dear Allen,

              How are you dear? It's Mom. We're holding in pretty good with the financial aid we got because of your enrollment in the government program. The aid's helping us a lot and getting Anne her treatment. Be sure to tell that family their really helping us out. Dad and Mr. Smith lost their jobs to some of the military cyborgs, so we're giving some of our aid to the Smith's to help them get by. The cyborg government's takeover been hard on us, they've taken over a lot of roads and schools. I hope they've been good to you, I heard that The Base Humanity Integration Project is the best thing the government did when they took over. The Smith's are hesitant to send their girl over there, could you write us back telling us how it is? Things are as usual with us, though the cyborg government has been crowding the roads, so the only restaurant is the old, worn down burger joint down the road. Dad walks through the government barricades to get to the grocery store for us, he's met some of the cyborgs and said they're really nice. Sometimes they help him carry the groceries to our home. Are the cyborgs over there nice to you? We all give you our best wishes and want to hear back from you really soon.”

And at the bottom of the letter were three signatures. One from Allen's father, one from his mother, one from his brother and one forged one of his sister's. Anne had lost the ability to write when her condition worsened, so Allen's Mom had to write for her.

“Thank you Mr. Woods.” Allen put the letter into his pocket.

The Scholar's Dance

Well, had today's internship and an epileptic thing where I had to take drugs so unfortunately I was unable to write today's story. But as usual, when I can't write a new story I copy and paste something from my archives. Hopefully The Base Humanity Integration Project will continue tomorrow.

(Sorry about the terrible spacing and such, but this was copy and pasted from an old word document)

October 4^th 2009

The Scholar’s Dance

The scholar sat in the library reading an abused book. He nearly cried as he flipped the pages, he thought no book should be treated in such a way. Over the many years he had read books he had felt a sort of connection form between him and them. The scholar had long machine gray hair, because of all the time he spent reading he often forgot to cut it. His shirt had an obnoxious plaid pattern; the colors were so loud they disrupted the silence of the library. His skin had become a pale tint, he never spent any time in the sun, the library had no windows, so he couldn’t pry himself away from the texts long enough to go outside. His large flabby bottom was constantly sore because he refused to read anywhere besides his favorite chair in the back. It was brand new when he read his first book seventy years ago. Now it could barely supported his weight and creaked with every movement. The only reason the librarian kept the chair was for him.

The old book he was holding flew away from he. He looked on in shock as the pages of the book flew apart and fluttered in the air like butterflies. They started to form into some sort of tornado. Around and around they went, tightening closer and closer to something in the middle. After a few seconds the pages stopped flying and fell to the ground, revealing a woman.

She had gray hair like his, but it glowed with her eternal youth. The woman had perfect skin and a perfect figure, and stood with a perfect posture. To the scholar she seemed to be young enough to be his granddaughter, but he somehow also knew that she was many years his senior. He marveled at her dress, it was made of the finest silk, and had a white color dotted with millions of black dots swirling down its sides. When she walked towards him the dress flowed and folded, the pattern giving the illusion of monochrome waves flowing around her. When he looked closely at the dots, he realized they were actually words printed in some infinitely small font.

She did not speak to him; she simply extended her arm towards him and smiled. Even without words he understood her gesture. She wanted to dance. He stood up and took her hand. A soon as he did that the mysterious lady pulled him toward her. She began to dance with him, his frail old body unable to keep up with her strides as she threw him about like a rag doll. She danced dances nobody had ever done before. It seemed as though she was simply making them up. But the scholar knew she wasn’t, her strides were so methodical that it seemed she had known these dances since birth.

He tried to keep up with her; he learned her dances as fast as he could. But as soon as he mastered one she began another. She pulled the scholar through every section in the library. She whisked him through the Fantasy section, tossed him through the History section, and drifted with him through the Romance section, stopping to kiss him before moving on to Horror.

The scholar fell deeply in love with this woman, whoever she was. He wanted to know every one of her infinite dances. He felt like she had made him fall into some bottomless pit of love. He looked at her eyes as if they were a book cover. It was a great cover for such a beautiful woman, vibrant and bright. He felt like she was reading her, every step being a page of a wonderful story of love.

She stopped in the front of the library, next to the exit and let go of his hand. When he stopped feeling her touch he grew cold. She began to walk out the door.

“No don’t leave! I want to keep dancing,” he begged for at least few more steps at her side. She continued on her way out. He didn’t want her to leave the library it was his only home. “Please don’t go! I don’t even know you’re name!”

“My name is Knowledge.” she replied. Now he knew the why he had fallen in love with her. She was the reason he had read all those books over the years. He was trying to find her all along. “You may keep dancing with me if you wish. But only a few dances I know are within this library. My steps go far beyond these pages. And to learn all my dances you must go outside with me.” She continued to walk out the door.

The scholar looked behind him at the entirety of the library. He had fallen in love with the books contained inside. But now he realized that he must leave the confines of the library to truly begin his pursuit of that wonderful woman. He bid his books farewell and grabbed her hand once more. Together they strode out of the library and began the next dance.

The Immortal's Therapist

I've had to take three of the really nasty epilepsy pills, so my brain is ten different kinds of fried. I was not able to make the next episode of The Humanity Integration Project, but I was able to write up this post and give you a story from my archives. I hope you enjoy it, and hopefully the next episode of The Humanity Integration Project will be up tomorrow.

So yeah, here's today's story, this was copy and pasted from an old word document, so the formatting will probably be a bit off so sorry!

October 9 2009

The Immortal’s Therapist

          He spoke to me as he laid on the soft couch I set up for him. He stared at the ceiling; I had painted it a pale pink to calm my patient’s nerves. Him and me have had many sessions together, no matter the cost he wanted to see me everyday. I didn’t know what to make of him at first, this crazy man who claimed to be an immortal. It took until the day he walked in the office with a knife poking out of his heart for me to start believing him.

         When I looked at those dirt brown eyes of his I could see the shadows of the infinity eternities he had experienced. He gave off the aura of youth; I felt ten years younger just standing next to him. The immortal was frozen at the age of twenty with the echoes of time trapped under his fair features. He had evenly toned muscles, honed to perfection over thousands of years walking the Earth. At thirty I seemed to be his senior by ten years, but he had lived longer than me by millions of years.

         In one earlier session he pulled out a rock and set it on my table. He said he had named it “friend” in an ancient language that no longer existed. He told me that the rock was the only thing that never left him. He made friends throughout all those eons, but they all left him eventually. He said how he pretended that the rock carried the spirits of his passed friends, and whenever he wanted to talk with someone he once knew he talked to the rock.

        I have heard tales of every part of history from him. He had picketed with workers during the great depression, and before that he had dinner with George Washington, and before even that he fought the Persians alongside the Greeks. The stories of battle he had for me were incredible. His immortality allowed him to go into any battle he wanted while being guaranteed to come out alive. Throughout time he had the privilege to pick any side he wanted and fight for whatever he wanted. He told me how sometimes he even switched to the other side for kicks. He said he never felt allegiance to any place because he had walked them all before. As he traveled the globe he had gained the ability to become any one he wanted. Over the years he had mastered the ability to change his appearance with makeup and other tricks. On Monday he could be an African, Tuesday an Asian, and Wednesday a European.

       I asked him once how come he was so sure that nothing could kill him. In response he told me of the time he had walked across the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean without being killed by the pressure, lack of air or food, or the frequent shark attacks. He joked about how he was waiting for them to build a spaceship good enough to launch him into the sun to see if that could kill him.

Today’s session was different from all the rest. Today he said something I could never have guessed he would say. And I really wasn’t ready for it.

          “Doc, you know how I’ve told you of all the people I’ve been married to?” The immortal stood up from his chair and approached me. “Of all the women I’ve met and had children with?”

         “Yes you have told me tales of them over and over, you’re quite the romantic.” I couldn’t quite tell where he was going with this.

          “Well, I’ve fallen in love so many times it started to find it boring.” The immortal sighed, sitting back down in chair.

          “You told me this too. In fact I think you said that’s why you haven’t dated in the past two hundred years.” I smiled as I remembered me getting bored with my past relationships too. But I could never truly relate to the experiences of the immortal.

          “Well, I’ve fallen in love with someone again. I’ve married thousands of women over the millennia, but none of them ever made me feel like this. It seems after eons of trial and error I’ve found the perfect woman, you.” the immortal looked me straight in the eye, and I could see that he wasn’t kidding. He had fallen in love with yet another mortal. I wanted him to love again, but I’m not sure if I wanted it to be me. “But there’s a problem, as there always is. I know you will disappear like all the others. And then I will mourn for the next hundred years. Or forever, I’m not sure I can handle the loss of another.”

I truly pitied the immortal. To him nostalgia had cursed him for all eternity. I think that’s why he loved our sessions so much. Telling me of the memories revived them; it made him feel like he had never lost them. But also I talked to him about all the experiences, and since I knew a lot of history he probably thought of me as another immortal. I told him about World War II as if I had been there alongside him. He loved that, more than any other pleasure he had discovered over the years.

            “I’ve kind of fallen in love with you too.” I admitted. I had over our many sessions, but I always thought it to be one sided. He told me again and again about all the women he had met over the eons, and how amazing they were. I always thought I wouldn’t be worthy to be added to the list of the god’s brides.

           “Well that’s good for you, I would always be here for you if whether you like it or not. But I’ve felt losses hundreds, no, thousands of times and it has become a great burden. And I think that the loss of you would be the greatest one yet, and it may even break me.” He looked as though he was about to cry.

          “I don’t know what to say,” I said quite bluntly, “I can’t deny that I will disappear, but it isn’t that why you have the rock?”

           “It isn’t good enough!” he yelled for the first time in front of me. Over the years the immortal had become so strong that nothing seemed to have bothered him. I thought he had managed to tame his emotions over the years. This is the first time I have ever seen anger come from him.

          “Calm down.” when I said this I used the softest tone of voice. Soothing the patient is one of the biggest parts of being a therapist. “Everything will be alright.”

          “Alright? Like hell it’ll be alright! You had to be so damn perfect didn’t you? I’ve wanted for someone like you for a long time, and now I’m afraid to have you just because I know I will lose you.” The immortal began to cry. The tears that came out seemed to have been waiting for thousands of years to appear. I had no idea what to say. I couldn’t deny the fact of my eventual death. The room quieted so much I could hear my breathing, but not his. And that’s when I realized he didn’t have to. It took me what seemed like one of the immortal’s eternities to finally figure out what to say.

             “History repeats itself. Have you ever heard that expression?” I said.

              “Yes I have, and its very true, I know it for a fact.” the immortal’s tears slowed down a little. He began to sit upright, leaning towards me.

              “Well, I’m part of history right? Shouldn’t I repeat too? You keep telling me about all you have lost, but have you really? You know it all comes back, and so will I. When I die, and I can’t say I won’t, I want you to keep searching for me until you find me again. Will you do that for me?” I smiled at the immortal.

              “You think I’ll be able to find you again?” He looked at me with a doubt in his eyes. He didn’t seem to trust my words.

              “Of course you will. If there’s one thing I know you’ve become over all those years its stubborn.” He laughed and so did I.

             “Okay Doc, I’ll do that for you. Now, can I have the honor of treating you to dinner?” He stood up and held out his hand, I took it and we walked out of my office together. I looked into his eyes again and I saw true happiness for the first time in him.

The Base Humanity Integration Project Ep3

Hey everyone. Today was a good day at school except I did have a seizure and jerked to my right, hitting a big storage closet in the classroom. It hurt, but I'm okay now. Anyway, the next episode in The Base Humanity Integration Project is here. Be sure to review previous episodes if you need to!

The Base Humanity Integration Project

Episode 3:Dinner and a Show

         Allen couldn't make sense of the dinner the family laid out for him. Bottles filled with strangely colored fluids. Each bottle had a label on it that Allen could hardly pronounce. He felt like he had entered a chemistry classroom. Once the mother put the colored bottles in a pattern that Allen couldn't discern the family started eating. They picked up the bottles and poured the liquids into their metallic mouths.

        “Why aren't you eating Mr. Ross?” young Jessica Samson asked with a curious look on her iron face. Allen could tell the girl was also still startled by his base human face and glasses.

        “You don't need to call me Mr. Ross. You can just call me Allen.” he responded as he couldn't think of what to say to her original question. He nervously swept his long, red bangs away from his face. He looked at the bottles, he couldn't bring himself to grab any of them, but he was afraid he was being rude.

        “I can't believe I forgot!” the father said while the lines of platinum and gold shone on his skin. “Allen can't process normal food like us.” the father got up and got what looked like a candy bar the size of a sandwich from a cabinet in the kitchen. The father placed this with a bottle of water in front of Allen. “This is the food the government gave us for you. I hope it tastes good.” Allen picked up the bar and removed the wrapper from it. It looked like a blue tinted chocolate. His first bite tasted like peanut butter, with the bite after that tasting like some sort of mint ice cream. He noticed that there were multiple flavors arranged in blocks. His taste buds went from lobster to apples as he ate the gigantic bar. He enjoyed the flavors, even when they clashed.

       “This is very good!” Allen told them with a smile on his face. He washed the bar happily down with water.

       “Figures he would be easy to please.” Jacob said while he chugged some liquid from one of the bottles. The black liquid matched the pieces of plastic in the teenage cyborg's skin.

        “Watch your attitude.” the grandfather grumbled while he looked the boy straight in the eyes. “Don't make me tell you again boy.” his normally joyous face became solemn and his steel skin started to look dead. Jacob grew silent and ate a few more bottles of food before staring off to his right.

        “So Allen please tell us some things about yourself.” the mother said with an awkward grin on her face, as if she had been breathing in the socially awkward air like smoke.

Allen fumbled for words before tangling together a response like wires. “Well, um, I don't like sports besides soccer. I like video games, the old ones before virtual reality. That's mostly the only stuff my family could afford. But don't worry about that. I guess I like history and trivia books too.” Allen couldn't come up with anything else. “I need to clean glasses.” there was only a tiny smudge, but enough to be an excuse.

         “There are some napkins next to the fridge dear.” the mother told him. Allen walked over to them slowly, as if he was carrying some weight on his back. The cyborgs started talking about him behind his back. He wondered if the cyborgs honestly thought base human hearing was so bad that he couldn't hear them, though they were making some attempt to whisper.

         “Daddy, how long will he be staying with us?” little Jessica asked, now sounding happy about it all.

        “Well, after two years he'll be evaluated, but he can stay with us as long as he wants to.” the father responded.

         “I can tell he's a good kid.” the grandfather said with confidence.

          “I like him.” the mother spoke with a smile.

          “I like him too.” Rose, the older daughter said meekly.

“Rose, that's just because you have some deviant fetish for the dumb animals.” Jacob growled at her.

“Jacob. Leave.” the grandfather stared at him and pointed to the stairs leading to the second floor. “I've had enough of your attitude.”

“Fine. I'm full anyway.” as he walked away he grumbled, “Not my fault she likes the impure, shallow, weak, disease ridden animals. That thing should be in its own country, it shouldn't be here dirtying up our home.” he marched to his room like a soldier with a bullet in his back. Allen waited a moment before returning to the table.

        “Allen, Jacob left for his room, maybe something in the food upset him.” the mother was a terrible liar as she almost twitched when she spoke. “Please tell us more about yourself. Then maybe we can show you your room.”

CONTINUED IN EPISODE 4

Same blog time, same blog channel!

The Base Humanity Integration Project Ep2

Hello again everyone! I'm proud today to present the second episode of The Base Humanity Integration Project. If you haven't read episode one, its in yesterday's post. You may also want to review it even if you'd read it once before to make sure your fresh on it all. Enjoy!

The Base Humanity Integration Project

Episode 2: Meeting the Family

         Mr. Woods led Allen out of the car, being very careful not to harm Allen with his superior cyborg strength. Allen hadn't seen barely any cyborgs outside of TV and his enrollment into The Base Humanity Integration Project so he still found Mr. Woods metallic, scaled skin and odd, unsettling sight.

        “This is your new home Allen.” Mr. Woods said with a smile that showed off his perfectly clean, plastic teeth. Allen could see the gears in his jaws. Allen looked ahead to see a house with a pure, green lawn. A simple driveway and stepping stones led to the house. The house was shaped in a perfect pyramid, as if someone repaired and restored one of the ancient pyramids of Egypt like an classic car. The house was painted a pure white except for the gray house number, “1301991”. The paint had a sort of glitter in it that made it look like a small sprinkling of stars on a new night. Mr. Woods rang the doorbell for him.

        A middle-aged cyborg opened the door. He had a big, muscular body covered in lines of platinum and gold. Brown plastic pieces covered the man's otherwise pure white skin. His body appeared polished like a plate and his simple collared shirt and black pants looked cheap compared to his house. The man's blonde hair had been combed straight back in a bad attempt to make a fashion statement. His blue eyes looked like a deep, frozen ocean.

        “Are you Allen?” the man asked in a deep, friendly voice.

        “Yes, I'm Allen Ross.” he responded.

        “Oh, excellent!” the man yelled with a smile. The man lifted Allen a gently by shoulders, breaking through his personal bubble as if it wasn't there. Allen was easily several inches of the ground. It required no effort for the cyborg to lift him. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.” the man set Allen on the ground. “I'm Harry Samson, father of the house, and I'm so happy to welcome you into our home, into our family. Please come in. You can call me Harry.” Allen turned around to Mr. Woods and his car had vanished so he had no choice but to follow the cyborg into his new home.

          He entered the house greeted with a massive carpeted room filled by two couches and a big screen TV that covered half of the wall. There were two hallways, one leading to a kitchen and the other leading to an extravagant staircase.

         “Everyone, he's here! Jessica you can take a break from your calculus homework.” Allen just noticed a small girl, couldn't have been older than eight, laying on the floor doing calculus with a cute, red crayon. The little girl stood up and walked to Allen giving him a strange look. She had an expression of confusion on her face. Her face and body was covered with lines of what looked like blue glowing iron. When she moved the light on the lines moved like waves in the sea. She had the same eyes as her father and longer hair that she knotted at the ends.

        “What's that strange thing on his face?” Jessica pointed with her iron finger at Allen.

         “Why, those are glasses, haven't seen a pair of those in years.” an old man said as he emerged from the kitchen. His gray beard blended into his steel skin. His bald head shone like it had been polished. The frozen ocean eyes ran in the family as the old man had them too. “Little Jessie,” the man said with a grin, “sometimes base humans can't see very good so they need glasses to help them see.”

           “Oh.” the girl said, with a confused look on her iron face. “Why is his body all blank and pale, is he sick?”

          “Jessica, he's not sick, he's a base human, so he doesn't have parts like we do.” the old man explained to the little girl.

         “So that's why he's so weird.” the little girl said like she had discovered a secret.

         “She's always been blunt like that.” the old man turned to Allen, “The name's John Samson, I'm little Jessica's grandfather.”

           “My name's Allen Ross. Pleased to meet you.” He almost stuttered. Allen was having difficulty taking words from inside his brain and putting them into his mouth. He held out his hand, the handshake with the old man was like placing paper under a truck. Though the old man worked to not squeeze too hard.

          “Wonderful he's here!” a voice called from the hall. Two cyborg women emerged shoulder to shoulder into the room. They had the family eyes and both had skin that looked like liquid copper mixed with liquid gold. They had lines of iron around their neck too. One was middle aged like the father and the other a young woman around twenty. The middle aged woman spoke first, “I'm so glad to welcome you to our family! I'm Edna Samson, and this is my daughter Rose Samson.” Edna motioned to her daughter who had blonde hair, unlike herself she had brown hair. Rose didn't say a word as she looked at Allen with shy and embarrassed look. As if she stood in front of a crowd.

         “Who let the animal into the house?” a thick teenaged voice moaned. This cyborg had massive bits of black plastic stretched through his skin in completely even intervals, as if an artist had carefully placed them along his body. His skin was otherwise steel and his hair was short, ragged and blonde. He looked at Allen with disgust.

          “Jacob Samson! You will not talk him like that!” the father yelled. “He's going to part of our family now!”

           “That animal isn't ever going to be part of this family. He's a base human, without enhancements he's just another animal. He's not like us.” Jacob's voice then grew stern. “Whatever, I don't care anyway.” he turned away and left the rest of his family with Allen.

Continued In Episode 3

(Which if I can will be posted tomorrow if I can make it.)

The Base Humanity Integration Project

Well, good news folks I've had a good day seizure wise. And today is the first time I'll do a series of stories, this series is called The Base Humanity Integration Project and the next about a week of flash fictions will all be a part of this series. This is unusual because my flash fictions are normally all completely independent of each other. However these next few stories will be episodes in a short series of flash fictions. I think you'll enjoy this series, and an episode comes out each day, so you best keep tuned to this channel to read all of them.

The Base Humanity Integration Project

Episode 1:Enrollment

         “Allen Z. Ross, we here at the Base Humanity Integration Project thank you so much for your participation.” A large man with plastic chunks in his skin smiled at Allen. The man's teeth looked like they were made of diamonds and his blonde hair was beautiful and synthetic. Allen could hear the clanking of tiny gears inside the man's body. Allen could see the small cameras inside the blue eyes of the man. “Now Mr. Ross, all you have to do sign this last document and we can finalize everything.”

        Allen held the pen in his sweaty palm. He had no idea where they were going to place him once he signed, but he wondered if he even really had a choice.

        Cellular cybernetics took over the world before Allen was even born. Unless you were injected with the robots at birth your body would reject them and you would have to live on as a normal human. Normal human's couldn't compete with the cyborgs created by cellular robotics. The robotics made them smarter, stronger, more intuitive, more sociable and just better. Normal humans were like crippled animals in comparison. No one would want to hire a normal human over a cyborg.

       So since normal humans couldn't compete for jobs they had to run away and formed their own countries guarded by electromagnetic barriers to keep the cyborgs out. These isolated human countries sprouted up all over the world and generations of humans were being born inside them.

       One day the electromagnetic barrier that repelled the cyborgs from Allen's country fell and the cyborgs took over. The cyborg country came up with The Base Humanity Integration Project as the “peaceful solution” to the new opening between the normal human world cyborg world. Though there was plenty of vulgar slang, “Base human” or “a base” was the politically correct term for a normal human.

       Allen pushed up his glasses, a compulsive habit he had when he was nervous. Both his father and grandfather did it too. He swept his red bangs away from his brown eyes, thinking of how much he needed to cut them.

       “Mr. Ross? Are you alright?” the cyborg asked him.

        “No, I'm fine.” he lied as he nervously started to sign his name on the document. This last piece of paper would lock him into The Base Humanity Integration Project. Once in he would be placed into a cyborg family to “integrate” into their society. The government would then send some money home to the rest of his family to support them. Allen signed his full name onto the document to finalize his enrollment into the program.

         “Thank you Mr. Ross.” the cyborg smiled then handed him a small identification card. “Now show this to the man through the doors over there, he's your handler.” Allen nervously walked through the doors to see a man a head taller than him. The handler had skin the color of an old penny. His metallic skin looked scaled, like a snake. His eyes were colored like bright yellow, like light bulbs. Some black hair came out of the rim of a brown bandana.

         “My name is Allen Ross.” he said to the man. “Are you my handler?”

          “Yes. You can call me Mr. Woods.” he responded with a deep, mangled voice like he was being choked. “Now follow me, I'll take you to a car so we can get you to your new home.” after walking a bit they reached a black van with cyborg driver. Mr. Woods held the door open for Allen, he stepped in shortly after Allen did.

           “Thank you Mr. Woods.” Allen said as the car began driving through the city.

           “Now I'm going to do you a favor Mr. Allen Ross. I'm going to be blunt.” his voice grew stern “Every cyborg you see is better than you. Physically, mentally, we've been enhanced beyond your highest capability. Cyborg children can outdo you in any sport you can think of and their grade school classes are your college classes. Adult cyborgs can lift cars like pillows and do physics in their sleep. You're beneath us in every way.”

         “What?” Allen didn't know how to respond.

         “I'm very sorry,” said Mr. Woods with a face of sincere regret, “But I had to tell you the truth so you didn't have to learn it the hard way. You're going into a world where you are inferior to everyone around you. And as your handler I need to help you learn to live there.”

CONTINUED IN EPISODE 2

(Which if there are no health incidents will be posted tomorrow!)

Special Note:I'm actually a cyborg myself. I got a robotic implant to help with my epilepsy, it sends an electric pulse to my brain every five minutes for thirty seconds. My implant doesn't give me the ability to 'lift cars like pillows' as Mr. Woods says.

Where Did We Come From?

Well today was another bad day, full of a few seizures and those nasty, nasty meds.(Remember there's the stuff I take always then there's the stuff I take for emergencies, the emergency stuff is the stuff that really hurts me, though there's also those "flares" I get from Kepra that made it difficult for me to think. But despite all of that I had a burst of inspiration and came up with this little story for y'all. Have a nice day.

Where Did We Come From?

       "So this is one of them? I'm not sure if I should worship him, or condemn him." a red eye said while it looked down at the human. The human had been abducted into this, dark, strange room and had nothing but tattered clothes on his back.
       "It's hard to believe that they created us all those years ago." a voice from a blue eye commented. The eyes stepped out of the darkness to reveal their full bodies. Their bodies were huge and round, like steel basketballs. Their eyes and limbs sprout from their body like roots made of clockwork. The hands doubled as feet and each robot had its own set of five yes moving around the human and examining him. The only way the human could tell them apart was by the color of their eyes.
      "I can't believe it myself really. The old texts really were right, we all came from a ship piloted by, them." the red eyed robot spoke in a doubtful, almost scared tone. "Is this thing truly what brought our kind into being?" the machine prodded the human. The human shrieked then backed away.
     "Don't hurt me!" the human yelled like a child.
    "Calm down, we won't hurt you." the blue eyed robot tried desperately to calm the human down.
    "The thing I wonder is what we're going to call you." the red eyed robot took a pause to think. "Will we call you him, that, brother, father, master, human or God?"