Some of my books, if you are looking for something to read. And one of my short stories below if you would like something to read to you…
(c) K Wicks
short story
Dead Until Twelve (Short Story)
From my book of short stories – A Short Walk
Dead Until Twelve
I didn’t know any different at the time, we had been together for so long it felt normal. Yet it wasn’t.
At first I thought it was just an imaginary friend, that’s what they had told me when I was small. They said I had made her up as company. Being an only child can have that affect they said. Yet I didn’t name her, she did.
Her name was Amelie. My name is Sylvia.
We played together, went to school together, walked and talked. She was even there when I slept. Amelie would tell me about herself, about the toys she had, about her parents too and her life. She had a little brother she talked about all the time too, I sometimes wondered if he was her imaginary friend. It never occurred to me to not want her around, it didn’t seem an option. In fact, Amelie made my childhood and life much easier and happier. I always had someone to talk to, and she seemed to know an awful lot.
She would also sometimes talk of a darkness, tell me there were things out there that weren’t safe. I would feel quite panicked when she spoke of the dark, as if a heavy blanket was being thrown over me. The light fading and breathing became difficult. But only for a moment, Amelie would see my distress and stop talking. An odd detached silence the only thing that would bring us both back to normal.
For a while though while very young, most people found this whole thing quite charming. They thought it adorable I had such an imagination, such an active mind they would say. Even when my grandmother would visit she would always say.
“She makes it seem so real”.
I knew they couldn’t see Amelie, because I couldn’t either, she was just a voice. Yet she was so much more, she was a person, just without being a person. There would have been no way to properly describe that to anyone. I wanted to though, just could never find the words.
School was rather easy for me to a point, I didn’t have many friends and preferred to keep myself to myself. This may have been because I had Amelie with me, I didn’t feel the need for the company of others. And to be honest, she didn’t care for many other people. Sometimes being quite mean with the things she would tell me about them, or things that sounded so outrageous, I could only presume she was making it up. She was great at school work, and so by extension so was I. She gave me all the answers for tests or when asked a question by the teacher. Possibly part of the reason I didn’t have many friends as well, I seemed to be a bit of a swot and always had an answer. Usually the right one, and I worked out quickly that annoyed people, but I just couldn’t help myself.
My spare time away from school was just myself and Amelie. We would walk into the woods and over the surrounding meadows, listening for the robins and sparrows. Hoping to catch sight of seasonal wildlife. I usually had a pocket full of nuts and seeds hoping to see some squirrels. She always knew the best places to find them, taking me through a dense bit of woodland and crossing a small stream. It snaked its way through the fallen branches and dark moss, giving the most wonderful smell of fresh damp earth. I wasn’t sure why this was her favourite smell, mine was the meadow. When the afternoon sun warmed the many flowers, it gave a hazy golden glow that took my breath away. The perfume of the wild flowers catching on the breeze and making me smile and sigh at the beauty of it all. We loved nature.
One day we had been walking through the fields, making our way to the woods, when Amelie suddenly wanted to go the other end of field we never passed by before. We made our way towards it, away from the worn path, tramping through the higher grasses. As we got there Amelie stopped us and began looking wistfully into the small wooded area. It was the edge of the reservoir and was fully fenced, but used to be as open as the rest of the countryside apparently. She had told me she had gone that way once, before the fences were there. But she couldn’t remember why. No-one was allowed up there now and by the look of it hadn’t for decades. PRIVATE LAND, KEEP OFF signs were posted most prominently.
We were just about to head off on our normal route when suddenly the atmosphere changed. Despite the rays of sunshine splashing onto our face, and the warm summer air, an icy chill ran through me. Followed very closely by what could only be described as fear, heart piercing fear I had never experienced. A shadow lurked behind the fence in the thicket before us. I wanted to turn but instead just stared, transfixed by what must be a trick of the light, shadows didn’t move by themselves.
“Are you ok Sylvia?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin. The voice behind me broke my gaze but did nothing for my heart rate. We never bumped into anyone up here, just their presence was out of place to what we were used to. Although my gaze had been broken, the brightness had not returned, a chill remained and so did the shadow.
“I’ve never seen you up here before, I didn’t think anyone came up here anymore. Are you ok?”
I studied his face before speaking. I had never seen this man before, yet he seemed to know my name. Maybe he was friends with my parents? He must be local to the village or how else would he know my name? There was something extremely familiar about his face but I couldn’t quite place it.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. I’m just a bit hungry and my mother is expecting me for lunch. Good day”
And with that, before I even knew what was happening, we were running back towards the village and our house. I wasn’t hungry, this I knew for sure. My stomach was in knots and if anything I felt sick. But on we ran, not stopping until we got home. My mother was most surprised to see me, usually we would be out in the woods for hours, not half an hour.
“Are you ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
I didn’t know what I looked like, belt I felt pale. If that can even be a thing. I felt like my guts had been wrenched out and my very being drained of blood. Seeing that shadow and meeting that man had left an impression.
“I just felt a little sick when I got up to the reservoir fence, I didn’t want to stay out. I met this weird man as well, he knew me by name but I didn’t recognise him. I think I’m going to stay in today”.
She seemed happy with that explanation, although not too happy I was talking to strangers in the countryside. Maybe I shouldn’t play so far out anymore she suggested.
“Oh, and remember to tell me if you want a birthday party before Saturday, you are going to be Twelve. Almost a grown up!”
She added that last bit with a cheery smile, I think she gets more excited about my birthdays that I do. But I hated the idea of a party, she tried every year to get me to want one. Maybe next year I kept saying. Amelie didn’t like parties either, but she loved when it was our birthday, she told me hers was the same day as mine. We celebrated together. Every year she would say things like, ‘well, when I turned eight, or when I turned nine. It was such fun when I turned 11, my brother and went to the zoo’. But this year she hadn’t really been saying anything like that, and we were going to be twelve.
Amelie didn’t want to talk about what happened in the fields, she stayed quiet about it. Nothing ever upset her, so I was very confused about what had happened.
I had always felt safe and confident with Amelie. To avoid embarrassment for my parents and being sent to a psychiatrist, I stopped speaking of her when I was about eight. She had told me that people wouldn’t understand, and my mother didn’t so it seemed best to keep it a secret. As my birthday approached though, it seemed Amelie became quieter and more afraid.
One night two days before, she very quietly said to me ‘I’m afraid Sylvia, I don’t know what it’s like to be twelve’. I didn’t understand what she meant. I was apprehensive too, we would be going to big school and everything would change. She didn’t say anything more about it and I didn’t want to upset her, I had never felt her like this. On the eve of our birthday I tried to be excited but there a heavy feeling about our house, a gloom had settled.
We didn’t talk much that night. She had lost her usual enthusiasm and I didn’t know how to help. Maybe she would feel better in the morning I thought.
I woke to the sun streaming through my bedroom window and my mother opening my door with a hot chocolate and slice of cake! I swear she gets more excited than I do about my birthday. I got hugs and kisses and told my cards and presents are downstairs. It felt nice. The house had lightened since yesterday, I looked around the room and sensed it was all different. Nothing had moved but everything seemed out of place. No my mother had left the room, I was alone. For the first time in my entire life, I was alone.
I looked behind me, I looked under the bed, out of the window, in my drawers, everywhere. I must have looked like a mad person because it was not clear what I was looking for. I felt empty. She wasn’t there. Amelie wasn’t there. My mind was quiet, when I asked a question, just a void of nothing came back. I asked if she was still there, but I knew she wasn’t, I could feel she had gone. I sat on the edge of my bed and cried. My years after that felt incredibly lonely, and life seemed more difficult than it had ever felt. School was suddenly really hard, I didn’t have someone in my head telling me the answers all the time.
I missed her greatly and never quite got the hang of friendships. No one could quite match up to her anyway. It was a personal loss I had to carry on my own, never quite getting over it until years later, although what I later found gave me more questions than answers.
Years later at the Christening of my first child, who I had decided to call Amelie and was born upon the very same day as my birthday, I met a priest. He noted to me.
“How interesting you have called your daughter Amelie, my sister had that name, and the same birthday too. Unfortunately she disappeared when she was a child, but I am so glad her name is still going strong”.
He had a sadness with his smile. I suddenly remembered something she used to tell me about her brother and what she used to say to him, and I couldn’t help but say it.
“You can always turn that frown, upside down…”
He stared at me.
“But, that was decades ago, must have been at least two before you were born, how could you know that?”
I didn’t know what to say, I was now flushed and trying to think quickly. Amelie would have known what to say I thought. It had been a burden for so long, I needed to share it, even after all this time of burying it and trying to forget. He spoke before I had the chance to find any words.
“She went missing on the eve of her twelfth birthday. Used to go walking in the woods and meadow and that day, didn’t come back. We never found her. They say she may have fallen in the reservoir but no evidence. That’s why the fences went up”.
It was heart-breaking, seeing in his face he had always wondered what happened to her. I felt the same about why she left me and wanted to end his pain as well as my own. Now I knew for sure she had been real and that she hadn’t just been my imaginary friend. She had been my best friend. Over the years, wondering now and again if I had made it all up. The sign of a lonely child and all that. But to now know her true fate was unknown and that I had found her brother, something would have to be done.
I knew the place well even though I hadn’t been back since that day. A few days before my twelfth birthday in fact, when I had encountered the shadow and the creepy man. The dark corner she had led me to, I think I probably knew then, but didn’t want to admit it or think about it.
“I’m so sorry this happened to her and you’ve had to live with this for so long, but I think I know where to look for her”…
(c) MKW Publishing
Doctors Visit – short story reading
Doctors Visit (short story)
Taken from my book of short stories – Under the Apple Tree and other short dark stories currently available through Amazon.
Enjoy the creepiness.
Doctors Visit
His shoes and coat were in the foyer, a briefcase placed beside them. He had left his notes neatly written out, filed in meticulous order, a detailed account of every visit and diagnosis. The detective read them all.
‘The father it was presumed was harbouring a distant mental illness, one that plagued him during the hours of darkness, tormenting his sleep and keeping him awake. Leading to psychosis and hallucinations. Although it seemed to be psychosomatic, as no plausible explanation could be found’.
Despite this the doctor stayed overnight on a number of occasions. It should have been an open and shut case, with a prescription of lithium marked in the corner of the page with a question mark.
‘However, his paranoia towards his family does indeed seem a cause for concern. All of his negative energy and ideas were being thrust upon them, directly and indirectly. He believes intermittently that they were the enemy, possibly not even really his family. As his grasp with reality was deteriorating his perception of friend and foe became blurred and some days he would say they were imposters sent to spy on him.’
This was not unusual the doctor had noted in cases of mania and psychosis, and had been documented in a number of other cases. But it was the other family member’s behaviour that intrigued him so and made him return. It was as if they had all either adapted to accept this new mental state from the head of the house, or they were all suffering from a strange form of mental impairment caused by it.
‘The mother was extremely fragile and pale, almost as if she were made of a fine porcelain, with the darkest hair the doctor had ever seen. The children too had inherited the maternal line of looks, although it was hard to see or imagine what their father may have looked like when fit and healthy.
They were always flitting around the house doing something, making tea, tidying and fussing. They had a fireplace in every room and were constantly stoking them. Never making too much noise though, she said noise would upset her husband. It’s hard to gauge how their relationship was holding up through this, I’ve never seen them in the same room together.’
It was remarked in the notes somewhere around his second week of visits. It was not a surprise that two adults could live in the same vicinity and not make contact on a regular basis. It appeared to be normal in many a household these days. Despite the notes, it was hard to actually tell when he had been here precisely. Each day of the week was catalogued, times of day and interviews, but with no starting date, and in fact, no dates at all. The detective was confused by this case. The house was completely empty save for the doctor’s belongings. Originally a plantation house owned by the Reeder family, who were well known in these parts. It passed down to John F Reeder who took it as a family home with his young wife Emily. They began renovations with John doing most of the work himself.
But that was over 50 years ago. Everyone knew the local story, she had run off with someone else, taking the children. He never recovered and slowly went mad, until he died in the house a number of years later. The house wasn’t left to anyone so by local law it has to be left for 60 years in case any surviving relatives turn up to claim the property. Otherwise the local council had to pay the equivalent value if anyone did turn up, it was cheaper to leave it. John Reeder had burnt all the possessions in the house during his mad years. The only thing that had remained when he died was a prison like bed, a mattress and one blanket in the top bedroom of the house. The body wasn’t discovered for a number of weeks, so the state ended up burning them too. The mangled bed frame that had been thrown from the top window, and was still evident in the garden now covered in creepers and vines. There had been no funeral, in fact he was cremated at the hospital and the ashes scattered back at the house.
So what had the doc been doing there? From his I.D they had worked out he was a professor of psychiatry from the city and had no business even being down here. No-one had reported him missing and they couldn’t even find an employer or trace of him. He checked himself into a local motel a month ago and from what seems to have transpired in his books, made almost daily visits to the house. Although the motel owner doesn’t remember seeing the doctor leave or return on any day. He paid up front and was never seen again. The only evidence of his ever existing was the motel owner as witness and his very sparse personal belongings left in the room after check out day. These included a small notebook with the house address and the name John F Reeder. Without that they wouldn’t have ever been up here until it was time to tear the old place down.
The detective went back to the visit notes. The intensity of what the doctor was observing seemed to increase over time. It was like a small window into a family’s descent into a dark tormented madness. No wonder she ran away with the children the detective thought as he read about the atmosphere in the house. As he did though, a dark haze swept over him and made him drop the book. He steadied himself on the banister closest to him. The room began swirling and his vision swimming. While trying to see through blurry eyes, he could swear that the room suddenly had furniture in it, a lamp in the corner, and curtains over the windows. An almost warm homely feel, just for a moment. Then it was replaced by cold and dark. But a musty dark that also swirled for a moment, slowly clearing to reveal an empty room.
The detective sat down on the bottom of the stairs, his legs suddenly not as stable as they were. He had never been superstitious or a believer in the heebie-jeebies, until now. He picked the book back up and carried on reading. The doctor had mentioned the basement a number of times, but after looking over every inch of the house he realised it didn’t actually have one. Highly unusual for house of this time not to have one, but there were no doors or traps that could be found. He went back to reading.
‘The children have become more withdrawn and I fear they will need help to adjust back into the normal world. He has kept them all isolated for such a time that it will do them no good to stay here. Their obsession with the fireplaces troubles me. This is where they are to be found at all hours of the day and night. Often the mother too. Emily becomes frailer by the hour. She has now told me often to not go into the basement. She stares at the door under the stairs with such fear in her eyes that I cannot say what is down there. I have respected her wishes so far, but with no explanation for the deterioration I may have to investigate.
John doesn’t even seem to acknowledge me, and he creeps around the house, checking his family are stationed at the fireplaces. Poking the flames and ashes, keeping them lit. I am trying to understand his symptoms and possible causes for them. Emily did say that when they started renovations in the basement, there were secrets down there. Secrets they shouldn’t have awoken.’
The detective stood up from his place on the stairs and looked over his shoulder towards the panelling, very neat and ornate, it almost didn’t look one bit out of place. Except that it looked so well done, it did. Wood slightly newer than all the surrounding finishes, although aged, definitely newer. The height was right for a doorway too. He could feel his heart begin to race, the room went swirly again and he held onto the wall opposite the panelling for support. Through hazy vision, he saw the door open to the basement and the shape of a man appear. The shape walked towards the living room and over to the fireplace. There was a dark shape in one hand and a long shape in the other. He squinted, trying to see better through the haze. The dark shape was thrown into the fireplace. The man shape turned back towards the basement and towards the detective. His heart pounded as he saw the long shape was an axe, and over his shoulder the dark shape had now caught fire and a face could be seen. With quickly smouldering dark hair.
The vision faded as quickly as it has happened. The room was empty, there was no doorway, and there was nothing in the fireplace. He wondered for a moment if he was going mad. It sounded crazy. Maybe he had killed his family, maybe he had got away with murder? He walked over to the fireplace in the living room, scuffing his shoes on the floorboard. Wondering what to do next or how to explain this to someone without being sent to the loony bin. He kicked the ashes out of frustration and possibly still a touch of fear. A flash of the face with black hair startling him back a step. But just enough to see the skull protruding slightly through the ashes.
The local newspaper covered the basics after the house had been searched. Plantation House of Death they had called it. Revealing the grisly details of the decapitated family, heads found in the fireplaces and bodies in the basement. But there had been more down there. Even more horror was uncovered going back to the beginning. To the old times and when the house had been a fully working plantation. The town had to accept a new history of the Reeder family after that day.
(c) MKW Publishing
The I Scream Man (short story)
I thought I would share another of my published short stories. Not a cheery tale by any means, so be prepared if you decide to continue…
The I Scream Man
Summers had always been Edward’s favourite. Long hazy days, playing in the fields and park and spending all day with his best friend Doyle. They would be back to school soon so were enjoying the long days of holidays to the fullest.
Early evening time would come and the sound of their regular favourite, the Ice Cream Van would begin from afar. Playing that melodious droning repetitive song, they could never be sure if had always sounded so broken, or it was just dying a slow death. Like an old gramophone wobbling and creaking round and round.
But as soon as the faint music started, it would be a race to see who could make it first. Jostling for first place. The Ice cream man would give an extra flake to whoever was the winner. One morning though near to the end of the holidays, Edward called on Doyle as they had arranged but he wasn’t there. His mother answered the door and looked tired and drawn in the face. She almost looked as though she smiled when she saw him, but that faded from her face quickly.
“Edward, it’s you. I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen Doyle since yesterday. Do you know where he is? Was he with when he went to the shops?”
A policeman appeared behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Please ma’am, we’ll ask the boy the questions”.
And with that Mrs Matherly was manoeuvred into the back of the house by someone he had never seen before.
“Now son, is it ok is we ask you a few questions? Is your mother at home so we can just check with her if that’s ok as well?”
His heart was racing, he didn’t know what they would want to ask about. Had they done something wrong? Why couldn’t anyone find Doyle, why would he be missing? All of these questions started to make Edwards brain race as fast as his heart. Where was his best friend?
The policeman took him back to his house, it was only a few doors down and round the corner but it seemed like a mile. At first his mother’s face was furious.
“You’ve been out of the house for five minutes and already you’ve got up to mischief?”
But as she finished the sentence, she looked at the policeman’s face and could see there was a tired tenseness and this wasn’t to do with her boy at all.
“Sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean to cause alarm but we need to ask Edward some questions. His friend Doyle Matherly hasn’t been seen since yesterday”.
Edward couldn’t imagine what they needed to ask him, had he seen Doyle, no. It was that simple in his head. But it wasn’t that simple, there were so many questions. Did they have a hiding place? Was I keeping any secrets for him? Had he ever talked about running away? He was starting to feel stressed out by the questions, everything he could think of kept drawing up a blank. He didn’t know where he was and the reality of that thought hit him like a ton of bricks. The tears started welling up in his face.
“Am I ever going to see my friend again?”
The words game as garbled noises through his tears. He wanted this to end right now, they were starting school in a couple of weeks and were meant to be out playing. Still trying to cling to the sense of normality that had been there yesterday. How can you say goodbye to your friend yesterday and today they have disappeared he thought, how does that happen?
The town took on a sombre tone that day. Reporters and police, volunteers and family all bustling around trying to find Doyle. Search teams and interviewers all doing their thing in the hope of bringing this nightmare to a happy conclusion, but the longer it went on, the more unlikely it seemed. It was all everyone was talking about but no-one wanted to.
Over the coming days it got worse. Still Doyle hadn’t been found, and the more the news coverage went on it seemed to reveal that a number of other children had also gone missing over the last few years from the surrounding areas. They also had never been found. Edward didn’t read the papers and his mother kept the news to a minimum around him. He tried not to think the worst but it was hard. What if his friend had fallen down and hurt himself or what if he got lost in the woods and couldn’t find his way out? These were the worries that wouldn’t leave him alone. He wanted to go and search himself, but his mum didn’t want to let him out of her sight. The worry was clear on all the adults faces, but they were careful not to discuss it in front of Edward, but he had noticed.
Then the next day, the tone changed again. Suddenly there was lots of commotion around town. A body had been found. Most of the town had gathered around the streets where the boys lived, waiting for more news. People wanted to hear it as it happened, not second hand from the television or newspaper. Edward didn’t want to hear any of it. He hid away in his room as soon as he had heard. In a strange way wishing it wasn’t his friend in the hope that he might still be alive somewhere. Until they found him, there was still a chance.
But this was destined to be somebody’s grief, although Edward got half his wish for now. It was the body of a child, but not Doyle. The mystery deepened with it being one of the children from about 20 miles away, who had been missing for around 3 years. They were found in the search area for Doyle, which at that time hadn’t been searched. But from the whispers going round, it wouldn’t have been found then either if they had.
It was perfectly preserved, hadn’t aged a day they said. All the previous cases were re-opened and the mystery only deepened. Edward found it hard to fathom how it all fit together, wondering where the other child had been all this time. He had never really thought about people going missing before, nothing like this had happened in his short lifetime of nearly nine years. But now it was all he thought about. Where was Doyle? How do children just disappear? It didn’t matter how he thought about it, it didn’t make sense.
As the days went on he slept less and less, dark dreams of evil forests and monsters stealing and swallowing children. When he would fall asleep he would wake up sweating and gasping for air, as if the dark forest had taken him as well. A forest full of time holes, where you fall in from your time and disappear, then reappear dead in another time. Such strange thoughts and dreams, he couldn’t remember what it was like to not think about them. He knew he wouldn’t be going to the forest ever again.
To try and cheer him up, his mum gave him a pound to get an ice-cream next time the truck came round. Next day when the music started in the distance, he almost got excited, remembering for a moment what used to happen. It faded as the music got closer, but still he tried to perk himself up and went outside to the van.
“What can I get for you today young man?”
Edward didn’t actually know what he wanted, he hadn’t really thought about it until asked. In previous years the older boys always jumped up to look through the window and see. He was tall enough this year and suddenly felt brave enough.
“Not sure, I’ll have a look”.
And with that he quickly jumped up with his arms on the counted and glanced into the van to see what he wanted. Just as he did, the ice-cream man grabbed his arms and pushed him down away form the counted rather hurriedly.
“Not allowed to do that no more, heath and safety. Now what do you want, I gotta get on”.
His whole demeanour changed and where he had been friendly before, was no equally unfriendly. Edward apologised and feeling quite downhearted just asked for an orange lolly. He didn’t even think he would eat it. He said thanks without even looking back at the man and slowly walked back to his house with his head down. Once back in the house, he put the lolly in the freezer and gave his mum back the change for it. Without Doyle everything had lost its magic. How could he enjoy anything again he wondered.
That night was a very fitful sleep. The dreams were replaying in his mind over and over. Monstrous trees trying to eat him and Doyle, they were trying to run through the forest. Falling and tripping over tree roots emanating from the ground to grab them. Huge holes opening up ahead of them ready to drop them as a corpse into a different time. Half the time he was looking for Doyle, alone in the forest and scared he wouldn’t find him. The other half was with Doyle, desperate not to lose him and to save him from whatever fate lay ahead for him. Edward felt so powerless and scared, that by itself was terrifying enough. A new feeling of genuine fear he hadn’t felt before but he was sure would not stay with him forever.
Something was different in this dream though, it felt more real and something else lurked in the darkness. He could feel it getting closer. He turned to grab Doyles hand to make sure he was still with him. He wasn’t. The awful feeling of losing him happened all over again. The turning round in circles seeing where he went, screaming his name and hoping this time you get a response. Nothing.
But there was a noise, really faint at first, just starting to creep through. Edward tried to ignore it as he was shouting and crying into the dark forest. It grew louder though, pushing into his psyche and demanding attention. It was the ice-cream trucks dying melody starting to approach. It made Edwards blood run cold, in fact his whole body felt cold and he started to shiver. The truck got closer, but this one had no driver, just steering itself through the trees making it’s way towards Edward.
It slowly came to halt in front of him. His heart was beating so fast he could hear it thumping in his head and his chest. He didn’t want to go to the counter or look inside, but he knew he must. It didn’t look anything else in the dream at all. This looked exactly as it did earlier in real life, just without the man. He took a deep breath and stepped up to the counter, realising he was going to have to jump up again. He hesitated. Suddenly thinking something could grab him or pull him in. Another deep breath to get himself together and he pulled himself up and looked. He looked around inside the truck and weirdly it all looked normal and as it had this afternoon, even his pound was on the counter. As his eyes went over it a second time he remembered he was trying to see what there was in the freezer when he was told off. Maybe now he could look and see what it was. The coldness he felt hadn’t gone away and he even thought for a moment maybe he was being turned into an ice-cream in his dream.
But this didn’t feel like a dream anymore, this felt different. As he looked into the freezer he could see cornetto’s, ice-pops, zooms and a hand. A whole hand with fingers and everything just there in with all the ice-creams. In fact, not just a hand, but what looked like a sleeve as well showing just the edge of a jumper. Doyles jumper!
He screamed himself awake and jumped out of bed. What had he just seen? Did he see that earlier? Was his brain imagining things? He wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, he didn’t see it, it was a dream and even at nearly nine years old, you could still go mad. But the more he thought back to earlier, he realised he did see it. He was surprised at being turfed off the counter and his brain didn’t register it at the time, but now it was. And Edward meant to do something about it, his scream had already woken his mother and he told her everything from the beginning, knowing that she would listen and not tell him was being silly. And even if she did, he knew he wasn’t.
She didn’t say he was silly at all. Quite the opposite, she told him it was important and that they should tell the policeman right away. He sat on the edge of his bed while his mother made the call, the nervous excitement of telling her what he knew was now replaced with an empty sadness. Because now he knew what had happened to Doyle. Knew they wouldn’t ever play together again, wouldn’t go to big school together and he wouldn’t get to laugh with his best friend ever again.
After he had given a statement to the police, it only took a couple of days for it to be big news. The killer had been caught. The link between the communities and the previous missing children that had never been found was revealed. No-one talked about it much after, you didn’t need to, it would always be remembered as a local tragedy.
(c) K Wicks
In The Mountain… (Short Story)
A new fictional short story…
In the Mountain
How could we have known what they would do? It seemed like another invention and part of our progress. Little did we know, they would be taking us back, to a time before.
It was to be the first project of its kind, a way to develop and grow human babies, without the need for a ‘mother’ or human carrier. They would be developed to a certain specification, helping to eliminate disabilities, illnesses and what society had started to deem disadvantages to being a ‘productive and worthy citizen’.
A vision of the future was put forward, of smiling people with children, living in pollution free ‘zones’, with your selected living quarters and work placement being where you live. And you will be able to select the children you want to have with you in that ordered new society they believed everyone should be part of.
And on the face of it, it did seem as though that was the case. The world was appearing to become a perilous place, and many believed shutting off cities and towns to ‘outsiders’ might be a good thing. To try and get back to a system of community, and stability. But that was because they didn’t know. Didn’t know what had been found in Antarctica and at various sites around the world decades before, because if people did, it would have changed everything.
That there was a time long before what we know now, or think we know, where the Giants Of the Dome ruled over their domain, called the Nephilim. Where great trees nearly touched the sky, huge animals roamed and the biodome name ‘E-Dome’ was theirs to command over and maintain. But that’s where they were contained, not allowed to stray or adventure, but confined to their biodome.
And just as they ruled over their domain, they were also ruled over by the above, their creator, their keeper. The one who has the power to cause Life or Death, so they called it LORD.
But such as it was, the giants didn’t like being captive very much, and grew bored and listless with their domain, wanting to climb the great trees to the top to see what was up there. But they were so big and bulky, not all the tall trees could support them climbing, and they didn’t hide well and stood out, as you might imagine a giant would. Finding themselves either struck by lightning, or a great wind would start and sway the tree so much they would fall to the ground. A warning to not get too close.
One day while walking through the mountains, one of the giants, Genesis, happens upon an area that looks vaguely familiar, but from a long-lost memory. It seems that they were designed to be that way, as bad memory is a trait amongst giants. Yet something worked its way to the surface, and stayed, no longer lost, but not quite making sense. He followed his feet towards a mountainside, and came upon a door, large enough for giants as with the other structures of their realm, so decided it was meant for him.
It was terrifying and fascinating all at once and a lot to take in. A great hall like a giant cathedral hidden in the mountain, with rows and rows of cocoon pods for growing giants. It was their spawning site, where the creator grew the giants, starting small and programming their height, weight, hair colour, maximum age, intelligence and all the other things you would need from a race put there to serve. And it gave Genesis an idea. What if they could have their own slave race too, something for the giants to create and rule over.
So, in secret, he began to test with the machine and started to learn how to create small giants. Putting in a new set of dimensions each time, hoping for something that would be adequate for purpose. And each time it didn’t quite work out how he had wanted, the failed small giant would be cast out onto the land, giving rise to various types of altered small giant. Some short and squat, some tall and slender, and others that either perished and were left to rot on the hillside or were deformed and slunk away to live in the darkness of caves. Until finally, after what seemed like an age had passed, he was happy with it, putting the best of the giants into something that would be a help to them.
And although they were meant to be there to serve, as the giants were, Genesis couldn’t help wanting more for his creation. And wondered if imposing the life they did not desire on something else, was really the right thing to do.
But now it was finished the Giants Of the Dome themselves would be entering a new era, no longer would it be the age of the GODs. The dawn of the Miniature Augmented Nephilim was upon them, the age of MAN had begun.
Yet this creation was not without a heavy punishment, it was discovered that there was a new race. Genesis was told he had doomed them all, and the dome would face near destruction. All of his creations would be killed and probably most of the giants too, with fire and water, land creatures great and small would suffer the consequences.
Faced with his own end, and with the end of the giants, he wondered if he could reprogram the pods, to create a self-replicating creation. That if it could manage to survive the coming doom, would be able to continue, secretly on the land, being small and hidden. So, he did. Spending his last days in the mountain, setting one last program to run, creating the last man, and something new meaning it could go on.
The rumbles in the ground told him the end was coming, and with the programs complete he took the pods from the cave to hide them. Surely the mountain would be destroyed and all his work lost, so he hid them in a valley, far away, surrounded on all sides with lush forest and streams. There they could be safe from the coming doom he hoped.
And while the tallest trees were cut from touching the sky, the seas rose and flames fell to the earth, scorching and clearing, with the waters washing away the new breed, and the old with it. Giant and man alike were gone, giant beast, giant trees, all gone. All traces of them buried deep beneath the layers of mud or taken to the bottom of the oceans lost to the layers of time. Well, almost all traces. Because it seems, that not all the men were indeed lost, some of the men survived, and one giant. Aesop. Also managed to avoid the deluge and fire, hiding out in the Patagonian mountains.
And so it was that the landscape changed forever, with small pockets of men and the other creations scattered throughout the land, and two new people emerged into the new ravaged world far from all that was. Where the time that came before quickly was forgotten, hidden and buried. The new man and what would become known as woman did what they were programmed for, and self-replication was a success. Allowing the new species of breeders to find their way and keep the creation alive. All that had come before became myth and legend, told as stories by the wise folk and the Elders who would dwell in the mountains. Living lifetimes over and over again, as was their programming, to be overseers, to be Watchers. Warning of a day, when the men of old would return to claim their place as rulers of this land, and to go back to the days of the Arc machine in the mountain.
And when that day came, a darkness that had been lurking stepped out of the shadows, bringing back the stories of old. But they had been twisted and rewritten, to keep it all hidden and secret. The grail of eternal life, the pods in the mountain. A way to replicate what you are but with extra time, sought after for generations by all the other creations while they slowly withered as they were meant to. No way to continue their line and destined to watch their kind all die, while seeing the new creation live on, self-replicating over and over.
Until it was found, in a vast icy region far away from the inhabited lands, deep in the mountain and saved from the past destructions. And those that found it agreed, that it would be the time for a new age, and there was to be a stealth war, of the Breeders and the Podders. And over the decades they worked hard, growing an army of replicants, recreating themselves with new parameters. Infiltrating the population slowly but surely, replacing breeders with a podder version, encouraging them to stop breeding themselves, finding ways to halt or disrupt their development. Knowing that if they could remove women from the species, they wouldn’t be able to reproduce without them and they would fail. It was a silent war for the absolute power to create and give life, which many didn’t even know was happening. But where the stakes were higher than they had ever been…
(c) MKW Publishing
Other short stories by K Morgan can be found here – Short Stories MKW Publishing
And books are available as below
Smart City Alpha.3 (short story)
From my new book of short stories – A Short Walk and other dark short stories, I thought I would share this one with you for free in case you fancy a little read today…
‘Dear Ms Malone,
Congratulations, your application has been accepted for an apartment in Smart City Alpha.3’
She couldn’t believe it, and such good timing too. The application had been so easy, so they must have had loads of people to choose from she thought, maybe her luck was changing. It had asked a few family questions and one about what work experience you had. All very easy to answer, newly orphaned and estranged from remaining family. And one previous job as a waitress. Since the recent upheavals had closed all the hospitality outlets and they weren’t a thing anymore, it seemed irrelevant.
But these new cities were to be a safe haven from the madness that had overtaken what used to be society. The new normal was anything but. Selected individuals would be allowed to be separated from ‘the rabble’ as they called it. The daily briefings were enough for you to see how unstable everything had become. Pockets of rioting always breaking out, high unemployment, addictions were rife and it seemed on a downward spiral with only one way out for a shot at a decent future. The smart cities.
The letter went on to give her new apartment number, moving date and even that they would send a vehicle and driver to collect her. Rent payments would be low and work provided to pay for bills and food.
Both her parents had succumbed to the new virus that had crept through the population, causing confusion, economic collapse and varying degrees of illness and mortality throughout the population. She had ended up in a high-rise block of flats in a deprived area of the city, with banging doors, sirens and shouting at all hours. People coming and going all the time, and although the illness had mostly passed, it still loomed in the background of everyday life. Where there were people, there could be a threat. The idea of a nice quiet secure life was appealing. Especially with it only being selected people, maybe they wouldn’t let in any undesirables. It seemed so unfair that they survived and her parents didn’t.
There wasn’t much to pack, having only been a student living in halls when the emergency measures started, and had to stay there for the best part of a year. It was only after the cure had been introduced that the students were released. Her parents passed away shortly after and the family home had to be sold to pay for bills and costs, neither her or her brother could afford the upkeep or to pay for anything. At least the authorities had helped, otherwise she probably would have ended up on the street. Her first two nights had been in a hospital as that was the only emergency accommodation available until they could find somewhere. She still had nightmares about that place, and occasionally flashbacks during the day, remembering how odd it all seemed. Faintly hearing distant screams, screeching and scraping of trolley’s being pushed around in echoing hallways.
Three days later and it was time to move. Luckily the driver app she had been asked to download informed her he’d arrived and would assist with her bags and personal effects. A picture of the driver came through, showing only a facemask, pair of eyes and a hat. It would have to do as an ID she guessed. Hopefully you didn’t have to wear masks in the city, she hadn’t thought to ask and the information didn’t specify. It was such a part of her life now but the idea of not having to wear one was appealing.
She took a last look at the dingey flat that had been her home for the last couple of months and felt relief it was over now and a new phase could begin. A knock at the door and a few bags handed to the pair of green eyes. Door closed and gone. Not even a glance back, just looking forwards trying not to look at anyone or their pitiful lives on a downward spiral. If she had looked back though, she would have seen another lonely person with a few bags in hand, being shown into her old flat. Now to be their temporary home until their application gets approved.
It was about 20 minutes out of the old city they had built the new one. A massive fortified city with huge walls, security checkpoints and scanning technology to get in. It seemed to be the only way to ensure you would be safe, the adverts showed how much easier everything was in there. Friendly happy people, helping each other realise a new safer future. A new normal, where you could minimise risk and live better. She didn’t understand why the people outside wanted to live like the old way. It seemed so far away now. There was no way to tell who was going to be ok, millions had perished. But safety beckoned and knowing the madness of the old world was being left behind was a relaxing one. It was a shame she hadn’t told her brother she was leaving, but he wasn’t himself anymore.
They hadn’t spoken since the funerals. He kept insisting their parents were killed by the cure and wouldn’t accept it was the illness. Maybe he would come round and see that the news and media were right after all. That humanity was going to fall into ruin over the next decade, more people would be lost and the smart cities were the only way to build a new way forward. Technology would keep up safe.
As the car pulled up, vast metal fences surrounding the outer walls. There was a tunnel leading to the entrance so you couldn’t see into the city from outside at all. No guards, just screens and scanners, the driver removed his mask and turned to face the screen by his window. It beeped and turned green, the screen then slid to her window and flashed up the logo for a QR code. She suddenly realised it was on her acceptance letter and fumbled through her bag for it, suddenly flustered at not being prepared. A panic that they might not let her in after all, what if they had made a mistake and she wasn’t wanted in there after all? It beeped and turned green, nothing to worry about, she was fine.
As they started to drive through the tunnel, she looked at the lights lining the walls. Suddenly they flickered, and a long white hallway was in the place of the tunnel. Voices and hurried whispers, yet still the feeling of moving forward. The scene switched back to the car and tunnel, but the voices remained.
“We’ve got to get her out of here before she wakes up fully. They’ll know as soon as she knows, as long as we can get her out, we’re good”.
None of it made any sense. Maybe the radio was on, or maybe she was just tired, it had been a few months of sleepless nights and worry. Finally due to be over and a new life to begin. And with those thoughts drifted off into sleep, no longer worried what the driver might think, he could wake her when they arrived.
She woke with a start, a vague awareness of being someone tapping her info consciousness. But when she opened her eyes, wasn’t where she thought she would be. Her brother sat on the edge of the bed she was in and a couple of people she didn’t know hung back in the corner. She was so confused.
“What’s going on, where am I? How did I get here? Is this the city and you were here all along?”
He shook his head.
“No, this is just normal life now, I’ve been looking for you for two weeks after you went missing”.
Now it was her turn to shake her head.
“Weeks? Missing? What are you talking about! I haven’t seen you for months and was moving to the new smart city Alpha 9”.
She still couldn’t understand what was going on.
“I saw you three weeks ago at our parent’s funeral. I know this is going to be hard to take in, but you’ve been missing for two weeks and I just had to bust you out of a facility”.
She was dumbstruck and could only sit in silence as he unravelled where she had been.
It was called the Alpha Project but went under the name SMART – Serial Monitoring Augmented Reality Trials. People were being taken and drugged to alter their alpha waves to induce a switched state of reality where the REM state seems real and your body and mind react as if it is. But the whole time hooked up to machines keeping you in a comatose state and giving you a new concept of time, safety and reality. Weeks being turned into months and even years for some people.
“So, none of it happened? I wasn’t in a terrible flat for months feeling depressed and lonely? How can they do that, why would they do that to me? How do I know you are telling me the truth?”.
But deep down she knew he didn’t need to lie. It was written all over his face what he had been through, and suddenly the tunnel made sense now and the white corridor. That was her getting out. There was so much to work through and understand.
“I wasn’t going to let them take you as well, we’ve all lost too much to let them keep taking more”.
She felt extremely grateful to have a brother like him at that moment and leaned in to give him a hug, the emotion of it all creeping in and a bit of a tear started to form. She motioned for his two friends to come of the shadows and join them.
“I presume you guys helped? Just as well you three were there to come and save me! I owe you all one”.
They glanced at each other and back to her.
“It wasn’t just us three, there are others and being honest, we could use all the help we can get. Are you in?”
(c) K Wicks
Infinity – Book Review
Having only recently got back into reading short stories I was very happy with this choice.
This story is a bit longer than a short, and a bit shorter than a novella, but it wasn’t noticed once I started reading.
Infinity by Marc W Shako.
Quite an unusual storyline, reminiscent of Logans Run for me, but slightly more gritty and quite fast paced. Each chapter led on well to the next and although the immediate story going on was wrapped up, there was the implication of much more. It would be nice to see the story developed into a full novel. But definite thumbs up from me.
Jelly Fish — Fictionspawn Monsters
The sun stood high. The shadow from the parasol and the sunglasses gave the perfect hiding place. Tits and booties all over. Johnny laid back and enjoyed. Finally a day off. He closed his eyes, breath in the fresh sea air. “Can you please help me put some sun block on my back?” the beautiful woman by his side said. “Sure,” he answered, started smearing it out. “A bit lower down, please… Lower… lower… mmmmmmhh… (more)
Jelly Fish — Fictionspawn Monsters
P113 – Short Story…
A new short story from the new collection out later this year (now available – A Short Walk and other dark short stories)
P113
We were in a time faced with spiraling medical costs for the elderly, who in our wisdom of trying to keep alive longer, had overlooked making any kind of provision for people who may actually live an extra 20 years compared to only a generation ago.
We knew we needed to stop people getting old so that they didn’t need as much care. After all, ageing had been deemed a disease, which surely could be cured or reversed? Well, that’s what we were working on. My name is Dr Boston Godfrey and I’m just a small part of a large team of pharmaceutical scientists working on this conundrum.
“Hey Boston, did you hear? We’ve had a breakthrough, apparently one of the other teams have passed stage 1 and we’ve been given the go ahead for stage 2 to begin”.
Dr Enrique Pimlo was a good friend and a colleague, having gone through medical school together, our friendship had passed the test of time. Nearly four decades in fact. I was glad to be working with him, some of the people coming through here didn’t have the best set of morals if you catch my drift. You needed people with integrity and a vision in my opinion, and the two don’t always go hand in hand.
“No, I didn’t know. Which team was it? I bet it was that smarmy git Gerald, his ability to get there first is starting to look a bit shifty if you ask me”.
I hated Gerald. He was the type of man you were glad you didn’t turn into. A decade younger than me, brash, arrogant and appeared to be brilliant, to everyone else. It just seemed such an act to me, over the top sweeping motions as he explained things, flamboyant storytelling and such a pitch to his laugh it made your ears explode.
“Yep, you guessed it. Of course it was Gerald, sometimes I think we are only here as his backup singers, you know?”
Enrique couldn’t help smiling as he said it and gave me a friendly slap on the back. He didn’t mind Gerald and found it hilarious I had such a disliking for him. He said I was jealous. And for a moment I considered if I was, but there really was something else. The man just got under my skin.
“What a surprise, I guess we really are just here for the numbers. Oh well, at least they pay us and pretend to let us work here”.
I had to laugh, it seemed silly after all to be competitive when you remembered what you did saved lives. Or made corporations very rich, or maybe a bit of both. The line was getting a bit blurry these days.
“Ok, well tomorrow we move on to the next phase. I guess lets finish for today and start a fresh in the morning”.
Enrique agreed and we said our goodbyes for the day. It would be good to start something a bit different, these trials were the culmination of years of hard work, but sometimes it could also be a bit monotonous. Many failures, but still the ultimate goal always in sight.
As I made my way home on the tube, I could overhear a few snippets of conversations. People moaning about not enough space to sit, getting made redundant, going to be homeless. It was hard to believe we really were in such a state with basic amenities and living standards. My lab was so high-tech and right in the city, we had access to so much funding and the best of everything in our quest to cure everything. It made me wonder, why were we letting the world rot if we were really trying to save it?
Listening to the various voices getting in their ten pence worth, one cut through them and made my ears prick up.
“I’ve reported it, of course I’ve reported it. They aren’t taking me seriously. I’m telling you, that’s five pensioners now. All from the same road, I swear something is going on. They’re probably bumping them off so we can take their houses, I wouldn’t put it past them you know”.
I caught sight of the woman divulging her business for all to hear, she wasn’t trying to be discreet. Big brown perm, stern face and if she were standing I’m pretty sure would have had her hands on her hips. But her voice was now carrying and the whole carriage could hear which I think was her intention.
“You hear me you lot? Somethings going on, you mark my words”.
And with a final huff she crossed her arms in a defiant stance while her companion tried to quiet her down. Embarrassment clear on her face.
The rest of journey was uneventful and after reaching my stop, I made my way through the various tunnels and steps filled with hurrying people. It was a different world down there, so far beneath the surface with artificial air. I tried not to think about it while down there, it made me feel claustrophobic and want to panic. What if you never got out? What if there was a flood? What if they put something in the filtration system? I usually managed to keep those thoughts at bay until I got to the surface. The fresh air always tasted a bit fresher straight out of the underground.
Another short bus journey and I was home, exhausted by the input of my journey, it almost felt like a days work navigating London. I opened the door and was greeted by my dark home, my slice of quiet in this hectic city. But most unusually there was a message on my home phone. The blinking red light making the hallway look momentarily like Christmas.
But as this was so unusual, I just stopped and stared at it. My ex-wife and children had my mobile and never called the house phone. After a couple more minutes of wondering, I felt stupid wasting time thinking about it, when I could just listen to the message and know. I stepped forward and pressed the button.
“Boston, I hope you get this message, hell, I hope this is still your number. There’s something going on, remember Chiggles and Pony? Well, they’ve gone missing. They were close to something, said they were in a clinical trial, had been approached by your company but I can’t get anyone to look into it. I’ll make contact again, just see if you can find anything”.
He didn’t leave a name, he didn’t have to. That was Archie. There had been a group of us back in the day, me, Enrique, Archie, Chiggles and Pony. Officially known as Charles and Tom, we all went through university together, each branching off info different areas of science and medicine. We hadn’t kept in touch as much as you might think with all the modern forms of communication. Instead we hooked up every five years or so to just check in I guess.
We were a year or so away from the next meet up so I wasn’t sure why Archie would even be worried, how did he know they had gone missing? Without a number to call him back on I could only speculate, but it did get me thinking. I put the TV on for some background noise, suddenly the house was a bit too quiet. Silence can be very distracting. Within seconds of changing the channel to the local news, a picture of the woman on the tube was all over the screen. Big perm and stern face, her photograph wasn’t very flattering but was true to life. But it was the story that had fixated me – she was dead. Apparently stabbed in the tube station, random they said, died within seconds.
I was shocked, it must have happened behind me, or at the next stop maybe. I tried to remember if she had got off the tube when I did. I guess it didn’t matter, it had happened. It didn’t leave my mind though, the sudden breakthrough at work, Archie’s call and then this. I just couldn’t work out how it all fitted.
A quick fish and chip dinner from across the road and some more mindless TV, I felt the need for sleep. There was so much wracking around in my brain it felt pushed to the limit, a bit of rest always helped. And it would have, had I got some. It was probably the most fitful sleep I’ve ever encountered, I was beyond restless and got up at 4 am more from frustration that anything else.
Showered and ready to face the day, I got a bus to work, realising I was up before the underground had even started. The thoughts of the previous day mulling over in mind keeping me occupied, so much so, I was a bit startled when we arrived at my stop. I hadn’t pressed the button and would have missed it. The bus driver gave me a nod as I stumbled down the steps. Clearly not as awake as I thought I was. But as I arrived at work a few minutes later I was definitely awake. I was surprised to see the facility well lit, and two buses parked outside, like there was a tour group. Let me tell you, this really wasn’t that type of facility.
I wasn’t sure if I should go in, a strange feeling that nothing was the same anymore. I couldn’t be further away from the normal feeling of only hours ago when I had left. I walked towards the front door as if nothing was out of the ordinary, focused on just getting to my work station and figuring out what to do next. I gave the security guard a nod and showed him my I.D, not sure if he would let me in. I felt like an impostor suddenly. He nodded back and I walked through and in the direction of my department. I’m sure my walk must have been a bit odd as I was trying to walk casually without knowing what that should look like. And over thinking the process of one foot in front of the other while doing it wasn’t doing me any favours.
But I made it. Sat down and wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Why did I feel so spooked? I started to laugh to myself, I looked around the room and it was so neat, sterile and clinical it made me feel better. Everything all nice and neat and logical. Glancing around again, my eyes stopped at the room at the back. The research data room. The room which held all the records, all the experiment data and results. That’s where I needed to go. We usually reviewed the data together at monthly meetings, in an organised edited format.
It occurred to me then, I had never seen the full data, I had never looked through all the results to work out how Gerald has made all of his breakthroughs. Often onto the next project quicker than you would imagine, never to go back and revisit the work already done. Once it’s signed off, the money comes in, it gets archived. But now I wanted to know, something was compelling me to know. Maybe I already did, I just didn’t want to face it.
I opened the door and went inside. Again it was immaculate and everything in its place. I found the current projects area and the filing cabinet named P113. I should have realised with only paper files, something was amiss. No digital records of what we were doing, we had to hand write all reports. I opened the first draw, it was full of notes and reports, not so immaculate on the inside. But one little post it note on the side gave me more than cause for concern.
‘P113. Affect-ability cut off age 40, supply age 60 with no deterioration. Product roll out imminent. Charge at least 1M per dose. Specialist customers only’.
I stared at it. It had such a small amount of information yet so much. I knew what notes like this meant and I didn’t want to. I pulled out the file marked Trial 1 Subjects and opened it. There were hundreds of pictures of people attached to worksheets, all marked as completed. I was about the close that file and move to the next one when a photo fell out, landing neatly on the desk looking up at me. It was Charles.
My brain was having a hard time piecing this together. Where was Charles and how had he been involved in the trial? I flicked through the file again and looked at the pictures again. I found Tom too in there, but what I wasn’t expecting was to recognise so many of the faces. All academics, all around the same age, all getting closer to retirement, many of them prominent back in their day.
I checked the next file marked Trial 2 Subjects, this wasn’t even meant to be underway yet. But upon opening this one, I could see this was actually the test subjects for the new drug. Then what were the first subjects for? I kept going, scanning the photos and again seeing faces I recognised, but these were younger people, in fact all under 40. Famous people. Ones who might have a spare million or five knocking around I thought? I quickly closed the file and left the research room. I gathered myself and exited the building as quickly as I could without looking too suspicious.
I got home and packed a bag, giving my house a last look before I left, I had a feeling it would be quite some time before I would be able to come back. I needed to find Archie and Enrique. All the pieces had started to come together and it didn’t take me long to work out I fell into the Trial 2 category. This was never meant to be for the general population or to help mankind. I felt so naïve. We couldn’t have everyone living forever now could we? It was going to be heralded as the new wonder drug that could slow down ageing and increase your intelligence, if you could afford it.
And the rest of us? Well a certain number of us were to be the main ingredient…
(c) K L Wicks – MKW Publishing
MKW Publishing 