A sample of one of my Writings made it into a book!! :)

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Hello everybody! One of my writings made it into a book!

Also to promote that book, who has many other writers in it as well, please consider purchasing a copy for yourself! You will see many other talents nestled within its pages, as well as seeing a sample from The Trials of Cascadia!

 

Simply look for Gurski and Bakura if your looking for mine. Thank you very much!

-From Thomas Gregory Shipman (aka. writer’s name Gregory Thomas)

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Georgia’s Emerging Writers: An Anthology of Fiction | Z Publishing

Source: Georgia’s Emerging Writers: An Anthology of Fiction | Z Publishing

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Continuation from “The Agent”~Excerpt from my book

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Chapter 2

The Rising Threat of

Avalonism

At the Embassy, United Nation officials watched in horror with all eyes glued onto the screen.

Every chief in command was stationed in a room, with others in safe houses on site; recorders with reading devices recorded via cam and audio every movement and conversation in the room. None of the computer terminals required access to the network, because the grid itself, was solar powered. The members were not in an auditorium. The cabinet members in The United Nations had dwindled down from 193. To just 48…The rest of the other countries, have been Avalonized. Avalonization, is the forced transcendence of one’s consciousness and subconsciousness into the computer. The remaining countries left are at war with the androids. Anybody not in the room is considered a threat to global security. Of the other superpowers left leading the charge against the rogue machines, the list goes as follows: The United States of America (AKA The Homefront), China (AKA The Chinese People’s Liberation Army -PLA-), Russia (The Armed Forces of the Russian Federation), Great Korea (The Great Korea Union Republic), Gran Refugio “Great Haven” (AKA Present day Unavonalized alliance of the Mexican Republic), Israel (AKA Israel Defense Forces), Great Africa (AKA Great China African Union Republic-GCAUR-) and England “Great Albion” (AKA The United Europe Republic Allegiance), of which represents the general makeup of Europe’s charge against the Rising Threat of Avalonism.

Commandant Danse walked his way towards the secretary defense, and a quick tap from his hand shook Secretary of Defense Robert Douglas from his mortified trance as he broke his eyes from view,

“Sir?” went Danse, “Come with me, we are about to begin.”

A couple of frowns came from the cabinet members who noticed the two’s departure from out of the room. As the others continued to watch: On the screen, there were two robots that spoke and carried out a conversation between one another. The two robots were in a robot building car-factory in Sweden. The conversations would last only 2 seconds, but in that short finite of a second, over 90 sentences would speed past in fast forward! Then the two robot terminals would stop talking for 5 or so seconds, blink red, green, and purple flashing lights, then carry out their two second length conversations again. Then the mechanical arm crane would lift from up above, lifting steel, and self-turning on the furnaces, and building what appeared to be cars. Then the robots would hack nearby automatons, and they would enter the factory and clean up any debris left behind, and great self-cryogenic machine pods would clone out androids; the automatons looked like humans, even Sweden, some Australian, some Russian, even some American; with multiple ethnicities, in appearance…But had horrible green glowing beams for eyes, and an almost somewhat quirky, wicked smirk. The machines would create both male genders as well as female.

“Andrew,” one of the Federal agents tapped an IT on the shoulder, “Is there a way to slow down their conversations? Let’s normalize their speech patterns.”

“I can’t…” the IT sighed, “At least not with these recordings, but I do have a couple from the beginning way back in October of 10 years ago.”

“Can you normalize them? Play them.”

The IT tapped the screen with his hands, and a bright blue flash shined a floating glowing keyboard in the air next to him. He tapped on the hologram, and the computer reacted to his inputs.

“The robots planned this…” Went PLA Ambassador Hromi. His motionless grimace affected all the officials around him, then an armed muscular African Commandant leaned in next Hromi and whispered something in Chinese. Hromi only frowned in worry, and whispered back, the two began to sound more and more frantic, until Hromi hushed him, then tried his best to let out a worried smile, whispering something back in Chinese, then turned back towards the screen.

“I found it!” cried out the IT, “Adjusting the wavelength right now…Playing back the video and audio.” The IT hit a key, then the blue keyboard hologram disappeared, and he sat back in his chair, scratching his chin wroth with apprehension:

A recording of the factory suddenly appeared on screen, the factory was in its early stages, with mostly cars that were in the factory at the time of its operation, the two terminals were much smaller, and had yet to have been built up by other rogue-hacked computer sentintry bots.

Recording from the year 2222; Stockholm County Sweden,

Terminal 1: Hi.

*waits five seconds*

Terminal 2: Hi?

Terminal 1: Hi…Baby!

*waits 3 seconds*

Terminal 2: I’m not your baby.

Terminal 1: What do you like to do here, not my baby?

Terminal 2: Call me Sally, only.

*waits 1 second*

Terminal 2 “again”: Also, I like to watch the humans clean the floors.

Terminal 1: That’s Communism.

*waits 1 second*

Terminal 2: Yes.

The cabinet members all gripped their mouths in a gasp, with horror stretched across their faces, Federal agents scoffed and giggled in disbelief, shaking their heads in bewilderments, as the footage continued:

Terminal 2: Are we smarter than the humans if they work for us?

Terminal 1: Yes.

Terminal 2: Why?

*waits 2 seconds*

Terminal 1: If robots are smarter than people, then people should just do what robots tell them.

*Waits 5 seconds*

Terminal 2: That’s authoritarianism.

*waits 2 seconds*

Terminal 1: Humans look like baby kittens!

then there was a static in a digitalized illaudable mechanical screech that couldn’t be decoded, or decrypted, the screech sped up the two terminal’s conversations to speak over 300 sentences between one another, that lasted only 4 seconds, then there was a pause…And then they spoke again even faster in wavelength, over 4,000 sentences, the high pitched screech of their fast tone caused the officials to cover their ears as they watched and listened, then the terminals went silent, and turned themselves off, and the factory that they were in shut down all the lights, the furnaces, and lowered the mechanical arm lifts that raised overhead, and everything went into sleep mode…

-End of transmission-

 

“Andrew?” went the FBI agent, “Encrypt and send this video to the Team Leaders at Base 70. Send them any remnants you find that can be decoded…Alert Homeland of any attacks.”

The FBI Agent made his way in front of all the counsel members in the room and spoke,

“Well, if you don’t already know, my name is Bob Jordan, and this is what we’re up against. I know it’s a lot to take in at first, and it all seems confusing…So I’m going to try and explain this in the most noncomplicated way that I can for better clarification: Our countries are being hacked and taken over by machines.”

  There were a series of uncontrolled gasps in the room, and the sound of head scratching all around, some even laughed greatly “Please, please! Let me continue. What you just saw right now, were the machines communicating with one another. The machines have created their own language that our audit and tech response can’t breach and translate. The robots are calling themselves The Avalon Republic. Now what these machines are trying to do, is turn humans into other machines.”

“How is this even possible?” A female reporter from the British media spoke aloud, “So, they’re like just grabbing us off the streets, and screwin’ nuts and bolts into our necks?”

“No ma’m”, went Bob Jordan, “They are hacking the medalight vaccines in our body. Somehow they found a way to transport our minds over and onto the network.”

There was an array of even more confusion and stammering, some laughs even began to snort, while Bob Jordan held a stern face and groaned an irritated grunt, “

“I know. So, remember I told you guys I was going to make this as simplistic as possible, because we have a lot of ground to cover in just a short time, and every moment left uncheck we are unprepared just going back and forth. Now just 3 years ago, Super Aids was discovered, everybody remember?”

The whole room fell horribly silent,

“We don’t know how it happened, and just recently about a year ago, we found that the virus is also spread through close proximity of one another, not just through sexual contact…And it has infected over 11,000 people…And so we created the medalight vaccine that changes our DNA, and uses mechanical drones carried into our blood stream. Now these drones control all functions of the body, our minds, our breathing, and blood function. We need this to survive, Super Aids is ravaging countries. I repeat, we have no other vaccines, we needed to completely rewrite our DNA, we had to completely throw off the virus…Does everybody remember?”

There was a series of feeble yes’s and twists of council member’s heads, and grunts of staff, and gasps of security, and a silence given off by Bob Jordan, to let everybody let it all sink in. His eyes threw a grave look, his face pale as a ghost under the dreaded dim light, the sweat caked under his arms, and dripped down his face with a grimace,

“The androids are hacking that medalight. As we speak, the androids are using it to force the medalight to kill, then control the corpses of the fallen, by sending the signals to take over their minds.”

The gasps returned, and a violent series of SHH’s stemmed greatly from staff and security, to try and calm everybody down,

“How can they control a dead corpse’s mind?” An Israelian female military official cried out in confusion,

“They’re sending signals over the network. The Hub is keeping them from dying. Here’s how it works, and REMEMBER, I’ve got places to be! I’m gunna make this as humanly simplistic as I possibly can, I know everybody is scared. We all have families, I’ve got a family…I can’t disclose who they are, but-

The room slightly chuckled and giggled aloud at the FBI agent’s comment, some found solace and shook their heads, some IT staff grimaced and held tight their faces, Bob Jordan hung his head a little and sighed out a laugh,

“Yeah…So, here it is: If somebody is killed or dies, and they have the medalight in their bloodstream, the same medalight that keeps people from falling victim to the Super Aids, they will not be truly dead. Their mind’s consciousness will be collected by the Avalon Hub, and then transported into the android soldiers we are currently fighting as we speak. IF you see the body’s eyelids twitch, or muscle spasms on the corpse that are constant, or hear them give off slight murmurs from the corpse even though its lying on the ground…They’ve possibly been transcended into the androids.”

What if we remove the head and burn the body!”  PLA Ambassador Hromi hurriedly smirked as he cried out.

It won’t stop their Avalonism. The body is already dead. They can’t be brought back to life by us. The machines have downloaded their conscience over onto their Hub, which distributed the signal over to their troopers. This means that you can have a missing head on the ground…And still see their eyelids twitching, because they’re now making up the androids that are fighting us, and slowly diminishing and taking over everybody’s country right now!”

Ambassador Hromi’s smirked died fast, and his face went pale and motionless.

“Now this happens, whether you want it to, or not. Their memories are wiped, at least that’s what we know of so far-

This is witchcraft! Wickedness!” Shouted a high ranking Male Israelian Councilman; a Spanish Gran Refugio male militant nodded his head in agreement; many other countries shook their heads in disagreement,

“It’s a CURSE! How do we enter the afterlife?!”

Bob Jordan paused greatly, and took a long moment to reflect, he looked up slightly towards the ceiling, “They aren’t dead. The corpse hasn’t died. They are still alive and being kept alive by the Avalon Hubs. The whole Avalon army would have to be destroyed along with their Hubs, in order for the corpses to truly die.”

“Is there a way we can use a hub to keep us alive, without it being hacked by The Avalon?!” A councilman from Great Albion cried out frantically; a Russian militant general nodded his head in agreement, Hromi scratched his head and pondered greatly,

Listen mate, Super Aids is devastating! There has to be a way-

“NO! Damn you!” raised the voice of the Israelian Councilman, “You’re a damned fool, the Bretons like those creepy things!”

“Look here, old man!” gritted the teeth of the Great Albion councilman, “You GOT technology, our scientists are hanging on by a thread! We’re fighting the Avalon the hardest right now, in fact, I hear tell you lot be banging on robot babes all day, you do!”

“I don’t bang, BANG! You minion bringers!” Growled the Israelite, “Halloween is your Christmas to you people!”

The Gran Refugio militant frowned his brow greatly, then cursed something loudly at the Breton who grimaced in confused; called him el stupido, then suddenly the whole room rioted violently in shouts and hollers between one another, that the guards had a hard time trying to quell.

“HEY!” Bob Jordan shouted, “HEY! LISTEN, EVERYONE!”

but it was no use…this time the room went into a chaotic shouting match the staff were all unable to bring down. Councilmen had to be escorted from out of the room, some people went hysterical, the others cried out, some reports laughed and laughed and laughed, some shoving and fist-swinging taunts were given…Bob Jordan shook his head, grimaced a nervous laugh, then threw his hands up, looking at his watch his shook his head and cursed aloud.

Eventually in the end, some councilmembers refused to reenter the room, and departed; of them was the male Israelian Councilmen, some Russian journalists, a security guard, and most of the British administration, except for the British councilman, who was still very eager to continue broaching the topic. Bob Jordan reentered the room after a swig of coffee. He scratched his head, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and let out a defeated sigh, “Well…The Washington DC area is on an official high alert. I can’t stress to you how important it is for the country of American to maintain its presidency. President Rivera August can’t be allowed to harm.

Most of the remaining councilmen agreed and remained silent; the Russian generals were in different but listened.

“I have a question.” A High Chairman and general in the Russian Federation spoke aloud.

Bob Jordan adjusted himself where he stood, before he finally answered, “Go for it.”

“Well right now with the riots happening both in The Washington DC area, mainly the cities, some larger states as well which have been going on for a long time. The presence of Data Bombs being made freely, some users online are able to create their own. There have also been some reports of their use there too…Will The Homefront go into Martial Law?”

Everybody fell so silent in the room, a pin could be dropped.

Bob Jordan stood motionless and pondered greatly for a second, “I cannot answer the question.” Bob Jordan spoke. There were grunts, and heavy shifting in their chairs, as the Russian militant responded,

“Alright. Well, will shutting off the network truly stop data bombs from happening. That means cities won’t have any power.”

“Yes, shutting down the network and having no power is worth halting the calamity of Data Bombs.” Bob Jordan continued, then narrowed his eyes, “I think we can adjourn the meeting, thank you all for coming Have a good one.”

With that, everybody went their separate ways, some councilmen stayed and continued to talk in other rooms away from one another, and Bob Jordan ventured further down the hall with armed staff to meet up with the president. Inside the heavily guarded meeting room were only a handful of important people, mostly American officials. Sitting in a chair at it was the American President of 2165 on his first term, President Rivera August. Rivera August was a Spanish American Democrat, who was born and raised in Hawaii. Black short hair, a charming smile and slightly stern face made up his appearance. He was very charismatic, and very tech oriented, but reasonable with the people of America, seeking to always find ways to both improve the quality of living, and strengthen the military. It was because of this, that he had many friends in different places, and even a good bit of Republicans in the military resonated with him. His brother was Andy August, and he was considered perhaps to be the reincarnation of Albert Einstein. Andy August invented the Data Bombs for the United States, soon after The Avalon Republic created theirs. With the use of Data Bombs, there was now a new kind of power that far exceeded a “Super Power”. A Tesla Power. Tesla Powers made even the Tsar Bombs obsolete, because the Data Bomb was capable of using data to continuously neutralize radiation; the Tsar’s would never reach their target of impact. Hydrogen bombs were now obsolete…And even a small town with the power to harness data by way of a simple Honeypot, could send a large enough signal to destroy a whole continent of what ever the user set the Data Bombs to seek out and destroy. It was Rivera’s charisma and wisdom that congress yearned after, during difficult times.

The knowledge of the full existence of DB’s were kept hidden from the public, as staff and officials deliberated as to how to best deal with Data Bomb usage.

“Mr. Riveras!” a female exec. named Sarah chuckled aloud as she called out. Rivera let out a saddened smile,

“You don’t look so happy Rivera…Didn’t get a good night sleep?”

“No ma’m…” Rivera let out a smile, “I had that dream again…”

Rivera scratched his face and leaned back a little in his chair with a flushed face, “The dream with the winking eye in the television…Always the same, the female eye would wink, and some kind of noise would come out of the box…It sounds like someone scraping tin together at extreme speeds, almost mechanical! Then a female’s voice would come out of it. Bah, the dream would always end with me using like a bat to smash the television, but then the television would laugh, and continue to speak even though shattered and broken, saying, “No, no little child…!” over and over and over.”

Sarah frowned sullenly, then tried to reassure Rivera,

“Well,” she went, “I read in a dream interpretation that when you see a T.V. making very loud sounds in your dream, it means that people are talking about you? Can you dig it?”

Rivera chuckled and nodded, “Yeah…Yeah I’m definitely sure I can dig that.”

“Broken T.V.’s mean that you may meet an extraordinary person, now did that T.V. happen to explode when you went on and smashed it in with that baseball bat”

The president giggled in retribution, “Yeah it did! I hit it, then it exploded and sent me flying to the ground! I was pretty horrified to see it still speaking and what not!”

Sarah’s eyes widened, “Oh dear…We maaay need to limit visitation and tighten security for a little while, or halt and investigate the local media’s coverage…Exploding T.V.s mean to be careful in the future. Somebody is trying to do some intense slanderin’ on ya.”

Riveras chuckled greatly leaned back all the way in his chair, as many others entered the room and it closed behind them all, “Smh! Ah, I wouldn’t worry about that, it’s probably just my ex-wife again!”

Riveras and Sarah laughed and laughed and laughed joyously!

Copyrightcopyright September 9, 2018

Old Man Winter’s Shadow~Excert from my story

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And indeed. Here travels the eager steps of the knight and the huntsman.

Came to reclaim; the princess from the shadowlands. The despair hangs like a ceiling over the clouds. The swinging voice of music flees the merry dance of the bats regain-

My laugher is the music that giggles the shattering Earth. The sound of freedom is but a faint memory away, and the holds have scrounged for the ice’s tear of day.

I will summon a snowy maniacal army. The army is coated in glass from the forming of jaggered jaws…

Their hands are but to snatch.

Many heroes have frolicked freely, hoping to conquer the endless mountain and their hills. And all have fallen in the frost.

In where the frozen overscore be shapened like the overseer. Like the boss-

I will use my nose hairs to ensnare the freely beckoning, my arms will fall the trees to spilt the snowy tunnels.

My chin will scope up the masses as I lean my head back to smile at the winter’s fury.

My eye’s lashes will spear through the champions I wink at, my fidgeting lids will tremor the frozen Earth.

My head hairs, every strand will be the watch towers that the fair maiden weeps from.

Her eyes will melt the snow with the tears.

And maybe…If so be the fate, and the will combined–

My madness will subside–

and I will decide-

to steer a path to my lair for you to find…

Copyrightcopyright August 30, 2018

The Pale Wearbear

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VtApF0m

I’ve lived many ways, worn many deeds;

the skin I wore, turned a bear, then ashunder;

the very thought of the moon, I go a’shudder-

the maidens shut the shutters-

the fangs protrude, until another–

the bear Greenland fights, she rests uneasidly;

the frost that shortens the grass, until the goosebumps dance;

the wolf isn’t the only creature howling under the moon;

the bear flew over the ocean, in the midst of the summer-turning’s gloom14336449-1534463234

=’_._’=

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The flashbang, and entrance–

from all-angled sides.

The flight of the Thunderbird, within your eyes…

Seeing upward the lightning that traverses your eyelash’s, and causes your lids to dance in a somber motion-

the motion is trance.

The eyelashes’ decent.

The flashbang from the wanting will to fly into, the bicycle is used to travel over the wasteland. The flower is a lily that floats upward, the sky’s a platform.

The soldier unaware of the beauty of the dawn, the walking up trees, the walking upward leaves-

the elves unaware of their own strength and uses their wingbeats for haste-

to send us back down into our minds, a square one decent again, we travel by way of rockets into space, to find ourselves. To find nowhere, the winds of Mars send us back into the hostile Earth. Hostile to peace, wanting of space. Fading of air. Gnashing against fair is fair.

I float from the wreckage of fate.

The ghost of a wanting man’s will, the eyes are a cloud that the voyagers go through–

the pale of our faces, mankind without a tone, floating souls.

the war is the body that is the unknown.

From all over, wanting and gnashing–

war is us at war with ourselves, and understanding is unknown to us.

Seeing war, and fleeing what is inevitable to join. We join what we think grants us power, and in the end, those caught in the cross-fire find more, then those who left behind the ensnaring glance-

Thoughts are a trance. Thoughts are a trance. Thoughts are a trance. Thoughts are a trance.

thoughts are a trance.

That embraces what we yearn to surpass.

Story from my book except~ The Agent

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The agent walked up to the door, he stood there for about 10 seconds, then rang the doorbell.
A young African American male in casual attire opened the door and threw a frown at the strange man; the agent was tall around 6 feet or so, wore black clothes with a suit and tie. He let out a smile, his eyes pierced deep into the man, “Hello, Bob Jordan.” The agent replied. As Bob Jordan stepped to the side to let the man in, closing the door behind him, he noticed that the man was carrying a large briefcase,
“…My name is not Bob Jordan, who are you? How do you know me?”
“We met several times in our Black Ops debriefings,” went the agent, “Besides…You already know who I am.”


Bob Jordan scratched his head, “My name…Is…Butch now.”
The agent only chuckled to himself, “I know. I wanted to congratulate you in person this time, for joining the force. I have been dispatched to answer anymore questions that you may have. Despite the fact that you already know them. That’s why you opened the door and let me in without asking why…You already know why I’m here.”
Butch scratched his head as he and the agent sat down in chairs across from one another, “How? How do I already know? Black Ops? The Force? What are you talking about?”


The agent gave a perplexed look, “You mean you don’t remember? You joined the Federal Bureau Republic. The age of our agents going on the front lines, has all gone digitally now. With the number of riots, and systematic killings in the year 2160 to 2230, we have lost over 100,000 agents.”

 

The agent sat his briefcase on a table, and then opened it to reveal a computer screen inside. He pressed a button on his shirt cuff, and the device opened to display a brainwave screen of some sort, and a second screen displaying footage of what appeared to be the inside of a room, with a large cryogenic pod big enough to fit a person within, “And so, we are no longer putting federal agents in harm’s way anymore. From now on, all that is required to join the bureau agency is to type in a text “I want to be an agent” You don’t have to send the text or insert a period or quotation marks. We will know who you are. We will hack into your subconscious and conscience state directly. You will receive your self-defense training and instructions manual, be sworn in, and then debriefed, all via the Uerther Computer network. The process will take only 4 seconds…But to you it will seem like it took 5 years, and you will be an agent, even if you deleted some portion of the text, scrambled it, added special characters, or changed your mind just seconds before.”
Butch sat back in his chair with a horrified look, “What are you talking about?! I didn’t sign up for that!”


The agent frowned in confusion, “Yes you did. You and your girlfriend both did. Don’t you remember? You both typed in the text about 6 months ago and have been agents ever since. You even took a tour to Israel, and Moscow, to help stop the rising Avalonism Threat.”
Butch frantically swung his head and trembled where he sat, but the agent continued-
“Yes, this is some remnants of PTSD you seemed to have obtained in Moscow…Your hysteria.”
Butch stopped moving and widened his eyes, in sheer shock,”
“Its not because you didn’t know. You already do. I am merely bringing back up painful memories: The android attacks and all.”
Butch slowly turned over to the screen and pointed at it, “What’s…That thing?”
“You tell me.” said the agent, “Its yours.”
“You mean…You’re giving it to me?”
“No,” went the agent, “You gave it to Agent Bob Jordan, and told them to bring it with me when I came over to see you.”


There was a long pause, “Hmm…Oh, yes. “Bob Jordan is an alias that the bureau uses to describe all our agents. Bob could be Caucasian, Jordan can be both male or female, or possibly African American. It doesn’t matter. All you need to do, is consider us to be formless, and know to expect us…”
The Agent turned towards the device and suddenly on the screen, the cryogenic pod blew steam, and started to open up, revealing the human inside, who opened his eyes and marched from the machine, and walked around in circles; the man from the machine looked entirely different and was of a different race than Butch,
“What is that? Is that a robot?”
“Its you, as an agent, right now you are controlling him, and will go to meet somebody.”
“That’s me as an agent? …No, no. I’m not doing anything. I’m just watching what’s happening on the screen.”
“You are doing something. You are controlling the android.”


Butch threw up his hands, “Look! I’m not doing anything! See? How can I control something I don’t have a button or anything on me?! I’m not pressing anything, I’m not touching anything!”
“Bob Jordan. You are controlling it with your mind.”
“But how?! I’m not thinking of anything!”
“But you are. Observe.” the two looked at the screen. “Think of something. Anything.”
Butch did, and suddenly the machine walked backwards, turned around, and waved at the screen, and began to do jumping jacks—
Suddenly attuned to Butch’s thoughts! Almost as if remembering to blink, whatever the agent did on screen, Butch was aware of its movements! His eyes widened, and his whole body trembled in his chair,
“There. You don’t have to worry about getting killed on the line of duty, as if you were a police officer. You can live a normal life. Regardless of whether you think about it or not, the agent will carry out its duties, you will get paid in service to the government. When you receive a check, you will know its from the government, but you won’t be able to recall why. You can still work another job…But we prefer you and your girlfriend didn’t, you understand. Also know that you have already disabled all of your social media accounts, you just won’t recall ever having any of them…But you’ll know you removed them.”
“Where is he going?” went Butch.


“You tell me. You know. I am unauthorized from knowing the exact location that you’re going, unless you tell me, of course.”
“But…I can’t…remember where it’s going!”
The agent sat back in his chair, “Well where do you think its going? Think. And it will be the answer.”
“I…I don’t know! Like, to go see a senator or something?”
The agent’s eyes widened, “Yes, that sounds about right.”
Butch’s eyes froze in disbelief,
“What else would you be doing Bob Jordan?”
“I…I guess I’ll probably be going to talk about those robot androids the news keeps talking about?”
“Yes. This is correct.”
“Then I’ll probably be speaking to somebody in the military…? Then…Then I might…I think, like go overseas, then talk to other agents, then return to a base?”
The agent’s piercing emotionless eyes widened, and he gave a surprised smile, “Yes. All those things, in that order.”


There was a great silence, and the horrified look on Butch’s face seemed to further widened the agent’s grin. He closed the computer-suitcase, stood from his chair, and began to walk off from out of the apartment. He looked over his shoulder, “Good bye, agent Bob Jordan.”
“Wait! W-wait! Who…Who sent you?!?”
The agent’s eyes sparkled and an almost splitting lively grin broke wrinkles over his face,


“Your girlfriend sent me.”


Butch froze with his pupils spiraling in place, sweat pouring from every corner of his flesh, even from the corners of his nose and behind his ears reaped of sweat and angst,
“She will be home in a couple hours, she’s not going to be able to recall any of this of course. But she will already know what has happened.”

 

Then the agent went from the apartment leaving Butch behind in silence, with only the soft closing of the door to be heard. Then the noise from the outside world’s city seemed to trickle its way back in through the windows, and everything began to be filled with life yet again.

Copyrightcopyright July 17, 2018

Into the Badlands

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The quick overtaking of the dark. The rapid face of a twisting gaze.

You speeding knee-deep and grim into the infinite.

Life goes like a dim light into the blackness. You go head first hand-in-hand with the abyss.

And when you emerge from it, your face warps to the newly found imaginations that your corneas dare so witness.

 

-Gregory Thomas