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Page 1: One hundred zeros

O N E

H U N D R E D

Z E R O S

By Ross Hyland, Ian Sealey, Callum Bax & Mr Lozano

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My Boardroom Chapter/Scene

I walked slowly along the endless corridor to kill as much time as possible and delay the

inevitable. I tried to think of my speech, but words jumbled in my distraught mind. Every

breath, every footstep seemed fuzzy, weak and unclear, as if my fear and worry had

contaminated my brain. I would not let my nerves get to me. I must compose myself. I

wiped the sweat from my face, tidied my hair and straightened my suit. I stopped outside

the door marked ‘Board of Directors’. I took a deep breath then turned the handle.

I was instantly greeted by the sound of scraping chairs. Four large men and an equally

large woman stood politely in front of me, all with the same neutral expression. They

stood in a semi-circle before me, with only a table and a podium between us. The five

least favourite people in my life looked back at me. They were all dressed uncomfortably

in bland smart suits. Closest to me was the Financial Director who wore a kind face

mapped with freckles over his nose and cheeks. He had a long sharp nose, broad ears and

small dirty blue eyes. He appeared kindly but his smile was mean. He despised

everything, especially me. He often expressed his disapproval of my organisations poor

profits, regardless that we were an R&D department.

To his right stood the man who controlled my survival. The Board’s Chairman was a

handsome man, his symmetrical features were composed of beautiful glassy green eyes,

clear skin and pinched cheek bones, but his beauty was ruined by his sneering smile. He

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would have kicked me out of the job years ago if he had not had such a terrible memory, I

had got away with so many mistakes and failures previously.

Furthest to the left was the Sales Director and Assistant Sales Director. They were

husband and wife and the least helpful people in the world. They ruthlessly sabotaged

anyone who tried to interfere with their work. They were both short, plump and badly

dressed and suited each other in their maliciousness. No one in their right mind would

ever dream of saying that to them. They could be quite ingenious in their vindictiveness. I

knew my place as far as they were concerned and I dared to say nothing. The tall man in

the middle of them was the man to be wary of the most. The rumours in the lower levels

were that he had only got to where he was by stepping on everyone else. He would never

stop until he is the CEO. It was ironic that the cruellest man in the company was the head

of Human Resources.

I nodded to them then they all sat down in unison. I made my way to the podium

cleared my throat and looked at the Board. They all seemed so small. I wiped the sweat

away again then began my presentation.

“Good morning gentlemen, and lady.” I nervously cleared my throat. “My name is Dr

Crofonsh, as you all know” I saw the faint reaction of irritation. I tried drastically to alter

my tone from arrogance to humility. “As you know, over the last few years I have

invented many memorable products that have made us a very wealth company”. The

Financial Director smirked, while the Chairman looked at me with indifference. I ignored

them and carried on.

“I have now made a new invention that will revolutionise crime fighting.” They sat up

with interest.

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“We are all aware of the increase in crime as we creep towards the London Olympics.

The prisons we have built cannot cope with the increasing numbers of criminals. My

invention is an advancement of the prison system. With a big difference. This prison

needs no land; no guards, not even any bars”. All you need is a chip and a spine”. I held

up a chip (no bigger than a mobile phone’s sim card) and a human spine.

“This chip is called the Moral Chip. This chip works by taking control of their nervous

system”.

“Who is ‘their’ in your explanation”. The Assistant Sales Director had spoken up.

“The criminal of course. The criminal is the victim... I mean.... the.... ur...the patient.

Criminals are the target for this invention. Anyway, the Moral Chip takes control of the

nervous system and does not allow bad thoughts getting through the body and causing

crime”.

“This chip can be inserted anywhere that has a link to the nervous system, but it works

best when you put it just under the ‘axis (C2)’ on the ‘Cervical Vertebrae’, the top part of

the spine. The plan is, we will create a clinic in every town and if we catch someone who

has committed a crime we will put them through trial and the judge can decide (if they’re

guilty) from the following punishments: Community service, any up to 15 years in prison

and chip”. This invention is prison without the walls.

“We have tested this on 7 patients and 6 of them have had no problems”.

“What about the one that did have problems”. The Chairman had spoken.

“We had a fatality on the first person, but we sorted it”. I wasn’t sure I had convinced

him until he went back to his blank unsure face.

“We can get this launched if you send my company 2 million pounds; we will give you

30% of my inventions profits and your loan back with interest. What do you say to that”?

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“For once, I can’t find any way we lose, I’m fine with it. How about you Clare and

Phil”? The Financial was the first to reply.

“If you’re ok with it, I am”. The nicest thing ever said by The Assistant Sales Director

“Me too”. Her husband now spoke.

The chairman spoke. “I for one think this is a brilliant invention from a new comer”. I

ignored this comment.

The Human Resource Director took some time to come up with an answer; you could

almost see what he was thinking. : ‘how will this benefit me’ and ‘what could I get if I

squashed this man’s dreams’. But in the end he said “its fine”.

I was ecstatic, but had to stay formal. I said “thank you very much”. They all stood d up

shook my hand and I was out. Out into that same plain corridor but instead of having fear

for company I had happiness, which in my opinion is a lot more fun. I loosened my tie,

pocketed the chip and left with the thoughts of a new title: The Creator.

14th September 2012

Wednesday

Yesterday, in the early hours of the morning, there was a horrific attack on a family of

four. One man with a machete broke into their house, and killed the youngest, after the

family refused to hand over their savings. The mother of the child was next to die, as she

tried to get her sons body. Later on that night, the attacker turned murderer killed the

other two children. A police investigation was been filed, which prompted a quick

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resulting search, and the man was found attempting to hide inside a neighbouring house.

The man was arrested and sentenced to 30 years imprisonment. These terrible murders

have further increased to the rate of crime which is building up in built up cities in

England, such as London, Manchester and Birmingham. The newest response to this rise

of crime is a device to effectively stop crime. Implanted straight into the central nervous

system, it stops the implanted person from doing anything that is not programmed into

the device. There was a board of directors (of robotic implantations) meeting shortly after

the attack, we have been told; however we do not know whether they had any

involvement in the murders. The board’s final decision was to further increase

development of their “Morality chip”, something that stops you from thinking dangerous

thoughts, or ones that are immoral, such as murder, assault, or burglary.

This has prompted the government and prime minister to organize a meeting, to discuss

possible implantation for the more dangerous criminals, those who have been convicted

of serial murders, and who have shown no regret for their crimes. I, as a technological

advisor, think that it is a brilliant idea. Unfortunately, there may be several drawbacks I

can see to this device. Firstly the cost- a piece of technology this advanced would cost

several million pounds to implement into Britain; however this is a cost I believe would

be reasonable, as it would effectively curb crime significantly. Secondly, human rights-

why should we be the ones to decide what others should do? It is not our life, and life

imprisonment has been an effective enough deterrent as it is. Finally, the difficulty of

getting it in there in the first place. A chip implanted straight into the central nervous

system will not be easy, as if the doctors get it wrong, even slightly, then the recipient of

the chip could become paralysed from the legs down, possibly a fate worse than death.

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A suggestion for the trial subject of this newest technology in prevention of crime,

would be best suited if he or she were already a criminal, and who has already committed

many crimes, or a few, but very serious ones. My personal suggestion would be the very

criminal who caused this quick intervention, the cruel and murderous man who killed an

innocent family of four, in particular the very man who was mentioned, or rather

described what he did in detail, and if of course the trial fails, then I personally think that

he deserves paralyse.

The man walked slowly down the stairs, he was told he was part of an experiment,

which he was going to get paid a lot of money for. Behind him was man, dressed in a suit

and tie, carrying a black brief case. He kept looking back as if he was being followed.

The boy being paid was Curtis, a 17 year old looking for some cash. The room they were

walking into was cold; there was a bed in the middle of the room and a man standing over

it, he was wearing a white coat, he had a long nose and scraggly hair, he was also tall but

skinny. He was holding a syringe in one hand, and a key in the other.

The man with the white coat spoke. “Do you have it?” The man with the brief case

then tapped it. “Let’s do it then.” The boy stopped walking; he was pushed in the back by

the man with the brief case. The boy was too petrified to speak and carried on walking.

Not knowing what to expect, he sat down on the bed, all of a sudden, the boy was

smashed on the back of his head by the man in the white coat. The man with the key

asked for the brief case. And opened it slowly. He pulled out a small chip. The two men

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had a long conversation, about where to put it, but all of a sudden they both stopped

talking. The boy woke.

He made a break for the door, but was stopped short by the man in white. A piece

of wood was resting up against the banister of the stairs. Then the boy picked it up and

swung at the man in the suit. But missed, the man in white then prised the stick from the

boy and hit him with brutal force. The boy made a huge cry of pain, and smacked his

head against the cold hard floor knocking him unconscious. The man in white grabbed

the boy by the collar like nothing was wrong. He threw him harshly onto the bed, and

grabbed a knife; he went towards the boy, when the man in the suit grabbed his arm. “No

James, we will do the job right.” “Fine then I will do it Sam.” Said James.

He picked up the key from the floor that he had dropped earlier. Then walked

towards the bed where the suitcase was lying. He plunged the key through the suitcase,

and thrusts open the top, in an angry fashion. He pulled out a small microchip about the

size of a, five pence coin. Then examined it thoroughly. He had a gleaming smile on his

face. He went over to a small table on the left side of the bed, which had various surgical

equipment on it. He looked at them, and removed the scalpel. He walked over to the boy

who was still out cold, and then put the scalpel to the back of his neck and made a small

incision. Then flapped back the skin making blood ooze out.

He used a pair of tweezers to pick up the microchip and then insert it into to the

neck. It clipped on easily and the man in the suit Sam was angry and jittery. “Has it

worked come on, come on, come on?” “Yes don’t worry.” The man had put it in the

central nervous system. It should control the whole body. The man went back to the brief

case and took out 5 million pounds, and threw it onto the floor “is this it asked James” the

man in the suit shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know.” They were both angry but at the

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same time were grinning. They both started laughing “we have done it.” said the man in

white.

The boy was still unconious lying in the bed, he was still. The man in the suit left

the room. The man in the white followed him shortly. From one room you could here

laud laughter, then it happened, the boy awoke. He looked around the room. Then left.

The man in white walked back in. No more laughter, no more boys the man in white

screamed out in rage, until the man in the suit came back after hearing the ruckus “what’s

wrong.” “Look around, anything missing.” “Where’s the boy the doors open.” “You were

suppose to watch him” they both ran as fast as they cold out the door which was wide

open.

My Court Case Chapter

The man was in his fifties and was very wealthy. He loved his job deeply almost as

much as his family, in a way his job was part of his family. It always came home with

him, it was always on his mind and sometimes he even left his bed to look after it. It was

his child.

Ralph Smithson was a kind and hard working man. He lived in a house, which by most

standards could be called a mansion, with his wife and two of his three sons. His life was

pretty normal. He would wake up, spend an hour with the family and travel to the court

where he did his job for four hours, then left for home and spent the rest of the day with

his family, and his paper work

Usually Ralph would sit in his office and read the case. He would then write down the

key points and sort them into what he would do if he was presented with this as the only

evidence. After that he would go into court and listen carefully to the cases, go home and

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put them into key points. Then he would see if he had changed his mind. Finally he

would then go back to the court and tell a fellow barrister what he had decided. This

barrister would break the new to the court because Ralph just could not bear to see the

face of the victim or criminal.

Ralph had seen many cases like this one. He had managed to convict most of the

criminals he faced but was not always successful in changing the criminal good. He may

have seen this type of case but he knew this was different. All the Judges had been

briefed on their new powers and understood what it meant.

The problem with this case was the new power he had. This new power changed

everything. They had been told by parliament that they now could sentence people to the

“chip” instead of prison. They had been told briefly about the “chip” and found it a very

scary prospect. This new punishment was worse than prison, possibly worse than capital

punishment. This is why being a Judge had become so difficult. Judges could only

sentence people to community service or the “chip”.

Ralphs next case was rape, and he knew full well that the criminal was guilty but was

unsure what to do. Rape was defiantly worse than community service, but on the other

hand, was it worth the “chip”? The “chip” was a horrific breach of human rights but was

it a good or bad?

Ralph walked down the artistically carved, Elizabethan hall which led to the court. This

hall had been built for the Judges of the century and so there were many carvings of

crimes and the justice system.

As Ralph walked along the decorative hall he noticed the change in the atmosphere.

This change had started three weeks ago when the new powers were introduced and had

built in strength until now where everything felt foreign and new, but not a good new, a

bad kind of new. Ralph was one of the stronger Judges. Some Judges, like himself were

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ok and could continue with their jobs. Then there was the worried Judges, who stuttered

and walked around in groups, never shore on their direction. Finally you had the Crazy

Judges who quit their jobs and in some cases, committed suicide.

As Ralph approached the court’s entrance he felt different, he felt the felt the feeling of

release and relief. He had decided to choose community service, he would not send any

criminal, no matter how bad to the “chip”, it was immoral. He was going to leave the next

day. He stopped just before the door, got out his Blackberry and selected his previously

written resignation and sent it to his superior.

He went to turn the handle when an unimaginable pain hit him in the back. He lurched

forwards at the force of what he assumed to be a speeding bullet. He was right. The bullet

sped through his spine, paralysing him instantly. It then tore up his organs and came out

the other side. Blood gushed out from both sides of his body and the smell of burning

flesh drifted in the air.

Somebody cried out, he wasn’t shore whether it was friend or foe, but he knew he

didn’t care. He was going to die and that was it. Somebody stepped over him and went

through the door, and another leaned over him and whispered in his ear. “You're out of

the programme”. The figure then pushed a pistol to Ralphs head and whispered again.

“Bye Bye”. He pulled the trigger.

The figure who had stepped over Ralph was a thirty seven year old Judge by the name

of James Samson. He had only started his law course three years ago but had been pushed

up to Judge thanks to his friends in high places. He had not been told about the murder

that had occurred, and so, was not prepared for it. He was now extremely scared and

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shaken. He knew what he was doing was wrong but also knew that if he did not do it, he

would be killed.

He had been bundled into a van yesterday evening, shouted at for an hour about what

he had to do and then was kicked out at his house. His mission was to wait until a man

called Ralph Smithson was out of action and then he would take the rape case making

sure to sentence the criminal to the “chip”. He had asked why this man was to be

sentenced to the “chip” and he was told that it was better for him, them and the country.

He carried on until he came to some steep, stone stairs. He went down them and entered

the court. Moments later after leaving the court and announcing the sentence he was

swamped by reporters and camera crews. They all wanted to know why he had chosen

this sentence, but he ignored them.

He went back up the stairs and into the hall to see a completely normal atmosphere with

no body, no screaming witnesses and most importantly no police. He noticed his college,

now in a janitors costume cleaning up the last traces of blood. They nodded to each other

and turned to look at the shouting, panting, struggling man, who had just entered after

being convicted. James felt severe guilt but decided the man deserved it.

21th September 2012 Wednesday

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After the increased number of crimes, the morality chip has been an amazing

introduction into the crime service. As a simple alternative to crime, it has stormed the

market, and hundreds of judges have used it as an alternative to community service.

Although it was originally intended for the most severe of all cases, I.E. murder, it was

introduced to everyone on the database who has, or has had a criminal record, and has not

reformed. All prisons now have their own chip clinic, or “Chippy” as they are being

referred to by the inmates and it has shown huge amounts of success to the economy, as

crime has so far been reduced by 25%, and almost 15 Million have already been chipped.

On a slightly darker note, a notable judge of high standing was assassinated outside of the

court room, as he was about to oversee a case, but another judge was assigned quickly to

the case. The verdict was, unsurprisingly, completely in favour of chipping the criminal.

The downsides of the chipping have been, so far, extremely low. The place where the

chip is implanted (at the Cervical Vertebrae) limits all cases of death, and so far there

have been no casualties. For the company itself, it has made huge amounts of money. At

a private press conference which was held later, we gleamed some little information of

the design of the chip, and when the idea was put forward by its creator, Dr Crofonsh,

who wishes to be now as Doctor C, or the creator. Perhaps this title is slightly blown up

for this man, but it does describe him reasonably enough. He has taken modern

technology, mixed it with the natural instinct of good in humans to create peace and

goodwill in Great Britain. We have a quote here from the conference as he revealed his

new title, “Morning gentlemen, and lady. My name is Dr Crofonsh as you all know but

this time I wish you to address me as Dr C”. The title seems to have angered two or three

of the board members, but on the whole they were unfazed by the nickname. “The

criminal of course. The criminal is the victim”. Perhaps this quote shows us some

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indication of the creator’s motives? Perhaps not, but so far it has gone amazingly well. As

a side note, a young man called our department talking about a “attack, and forced

experiment”, but he has a record with the police of several hoax phone calls, and a

problem with alcohol. The loan which was given to “Doctor C” was a large sum of two

million pounds sterling, which is in fact insignificant in comparison to the company’s

annual budget of near 20 billion pounds, has generated much more than its loan. As a

matter of fact, it has generated almost 400% of the loan, in a week it has generated 40

million pounds. As we are told that the company is receiving 30% of the costs, they have

made a very good investment so far, and have generated an extra 10 million pounds for

the company’s annual revenue, and much more expected soon.

Chapter 4 -The Immigrants

While the newly arrived immigrants shuffled into a cold, dark truck smelling of a

mixture of packed human bodies, and a leaking petrol engine, the driver went to find

fake passports for his illegal travellers. When the last of the group had entered the

packed container, the truck set off. The truck got to the Turkish border, where a group

of voluntary police officers asked the driver for his identification papers. As they went

to check the back, the driver accelerated past the officers, past the border gates, and

into Syria. From there, the occupants of the truck were smuggled onto the cargo hold

of a jet bound for London, England.

The jet touched down in Heathrow’s runway, the immigrants were packed into yet

more trucks, each bound for different locations. Once in the trucks, they were

subjected to any punishment the drivers felt would amuse them. Several were already

dead from the freezing conditions of the hold, but the smugglers cared nothing for

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this. To them, the immigrants were just another source of income, not humans, but

packages bound for different destinations.

As the truck parked in Birmingham, the immigrants fled. Their transporters followed

them, hurling abuse, and threats that they would never be able to leave without proper

papers, but all of this was to no avail, and they just kept on running. A small group of

four found shelter inside a construction site, long since abandoned after the recent

credit crunch. They settled there for the night, but had a troubled night’s sleep,

remembering the hardships they had endured getting to England, and the reason they

had fled from Turkey in the first place.

The next day, the family, a mother, a father, and two young children, went out to find

whatever jobs they could in the town centre, helpfully located by a kindly passerby.

As they got to town, the father separated from the group in order to try and find a job

in construction. As he was walking down the street, an immaculately dressed man

walked up to him, and asked whether he was new to this country. When the Turk

asked what it was for, the businessman said that he could provide jobs for people who

have recently arrived in England. The businessman told the Turk to meet him in an

empty office to his side, just in case he was an illegal immigrant, and therefore illegal

in England.

As the Turk entered the old office, the businessman started talking to him about the

wonders of England, and about how he was going to love it there. The Turk,

becoming more and more interested by the businessman’s proposition, did not notice

his hand moving into his pocket. When he finally noticed the glint of metal, it was too

late, and the businessman plunged the knife deep into the Turks heart. He pulled it

out, and stabbed again and again, blood covering the walls. He staggered out,

bleeding to death, and fell into the street. Passersby screamed when the corpse fell out

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of the door, and hit the street, a pool of blood gathering around the hideous gashes in

his chest. When police finally arrived and searched the building, then businessman

was nowhere to be found.

5/. Massacre of Mr C family

A man, skinny and meek wearing a black suit and tie was walking to his car; he had

big glasses and was balding. He got into a dark blue Mini Cooper, and backed out of

his drive. It was six pm and it was beginning to get dark, the air was cold, and the

street was silent. He started down a narrow road. All of a sudden, the man stopped

and looked behind him, nothing was there. So he carried on down the road. A bright

blue light flickered on and off a car behind him, he pulled over to the side of the road,

the man could hardly see, as the car lights were still on full beam.

Two men dressed in police uniforms stepped out of the black van. “Are you Alistair

Webb” one of the police officers proclaimed. “Yes why” said the man in the suit.

“Get down on the floor and put your hands behind your head.” Shouted one of the

policemen. The man dove to the floor and the police men sprinted towards him then

pointed a gun to his head. One of the men grabbed a bag from the van and sniggered

the other kicked the man in the stomach. The man now holding the bag thrusts it onto

the man on the floor and ruthlessly pulled him up. One of the men ran to the driving

seat of the van, while the other gagged and blindfolded Alistair, and then took him

into the back of the van.

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One of the pretend police men started to beat up the man and started murmuring to

himself. “Stop!” exclaimed Mr Webb. “See this see this.” One of the men held up a

phone with a video call on it, and showed it to Alistair. His family were on it

screaming for there lives two guns were pointed at the wife’s head and three at each

of the children. They carried on going for an extra ten minutes when, All of a sudden

the phone turned off and the van came to a halt. The back doors opened and three men

came busting open the door. They had come to an old abandoned warehouse a woman

and two children were cowering in the corner of the building. One of the men in the

building shouted to the man who was now bleeding? “So are you going to cooperate?”

“Whatever you want anything just don’t hurt them, please!” Mr Webb yelled. “good.”

Said one man.

“You are the manager of the bank just down the road, is that correct.” One of the men

in the police uniforms said “Yes.” Replied Alistair “so you no the access codes to the

safe.” “Yes he repeated.” Smack! As a huge blow hits Alistair on his legs with a crow

bar one of the children screamed, as Alistair yelled out in agony. He was then picked

up and once again bundled into the back of the van. They drove down a singled lane

road until they stopped at a huge bank which Alistair was manager of. They grabbed

Alistair and hurtled him onto the street with the doors of the bank in front of him they

terrorised him threatened his friends and to kill his family until he gave in the alarm

code to get through the door.

They were now at the safe a man was standing by the door but at first instance he was

shot his blood splattered against the doors behind him, oozing from his head. They

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pulled Mr Webb over to the safe and then again got out the video call. “Fine

2073HSY6” Mr Webb shouted. “Thank you we don’t need you any more.” Before

dying they showed him a video of all his family being shot and presumed dead blood

was dripping all of the wounds, then with out thought one of the men shot Mr Webb.

The blood started to form underneath his body his shirt was tuning red the bullet had

gone straight threw him and was now burrowed in the wall.

The men heaped onto the van the last lot of money. Leaving the man dead dripping

with blood lying on the floor. They then got into the van, and then started their way

back to the warehouse. “Are you sure” one of the men hesitantly said. “That’s what he

said” replied the man. They seemed to all be worried and the van started to speed up.

They skidded as they pulled up to the warehouse they rushed through the doors and

Started to yell. “No no no.” one of the men yelled at the top of his lungs. One of the

boys was gone, with a trail of blood leading to the woods. They searched for him all

night, but he was gone, with family massacre imbedded in his mind

19 th November, 1994

Just arrived at private school. I already hate it here; there are just so many cruel

things. For one, all the teachers are just sadistic, the pupils are all bullies, but luckily

none of them are bad as my aunt. Why did she have to put me in this hellhole, this

home for the elite and the ones who are far too troublesome for public school. I can’t

tell which one I am, but from my aunt’s eyes I suppose I must be troublesome. It

really is her fault; she never should have tried so hard to be my mother.

26 th November, 1994

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A whole week here. It has been complete hell, so far I have been bullied by the

teachers, framed by my schoolmates, and the only friend I thought I had was really

only doing it for a dare. Most of all, I am dreading the school showers we will have to

go to next week, when our sports subjects get going. There is something I feel is

wrong about so many teenage boys showering so close together, especially after some

of the comments I have heard about a couple of boys. Anyway, I suppose that’s the

worst that could happen.

1 st December, 1994

I knew it would happen. Obviously everyone would go “Pinch and a punch for the

first of the month”, but to me it was worst. I already have several rather large bruises

to show for it. I tried telling a teacher, but they just dismissed what I said as gossip,

and ignored me. I tried the police as well, but they just warned me for wasting police

time. The worst moments of my week have defiantly been science and physical

education. In science, the other boys “accidently” spilled sulphuric acid over my shirt,

and even worse, the teacher gave me a detention for wasting school resources. I truly

do hate it here. P.E. has to beat all other lessons as the worst, not because I am unfit,

but because of what the boys do to me. In the lesson everyone heads towards me,

planning to do as much injury as possible. If its cricket, they aim for my head, if it

was rugby, they would try to break as many bones as they could get hold of. The

showers were worse than I expected, I just thought they would make comments, or

punch me, but what they did was much worse. They tied me up to a pipe, then teased

me, and left me for a teacher to find. I was eventually released, but the perpetrators of

this crime were only warned. A warning! How is that fair? I will leave this school as

soon as possible, maybe I could get expelled? But then of course my aunt would just

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pay for me to get back into this school, as she wouldn’t waste her time looking after

me.

8 th December, 1994

This week it got worse, I got tied up again, but they started hitting me with sticks,

shoes and that sort of thing. Then they took pictures and sent them all around the

school. They got detentions this time, but still nothing major. One thing more I hate

about this school, is that they all feel they are superior to me. I hate them all. One day

I will make something that stops them from abusing me. One day, I don’t care how

long it takes; I will find a way to stop all of these intolerable, stuck up boys from

hurting me, tying me up, and their total lack of morality.

Chapter 6

The man walked slowly down the stairs, he was told he was part of an experiment,

which he was going to get paid a lot of money for. Behind him was man, dressed in a

suit and tie, carrying a black brief case. He kept looking back as if he was being

followed. The boy being paid was Curtis Krinkel, a 17 year old looking for some

cash. The room they were walking into was cold; there was a bed in the middle of the

room and a man standing over it, he was wearing a white coat, he had a long nose and

scraggly hair, he was also tall but skinny. He was holding a syringe in one hand, and a

key in the other.

The man with the white coat spoke. “Do you have it?” The man with the brief

case then tapped it. “Let’s do it then.” The boy stopped walking; he was pushed in the

back by the man with the brief case. The boy was too petrified to speak and carried on

walking. Not knowing what to expect, he sat down on the bed, all of a sudden, the boy

was smashed on the back of his head by the man in the white coat. The man with the

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key asked for the brief case. And then opened it slowly. He pulled out a small chip.

The two men had a long conversation, about where to put it, but all of a sudden they

both stopped talking. The boy woke.

He made a break for the door, but was stopped short by the man in white. A piece

of wood was resting up against the banister of the stairs. Then the boy picked it up

and swung at the man in the suit. But missed, the man in white then prised the stick

from the boy and hit him with brutal force. The boy made a huge cry of pain, and

smacked his head against the cold hard floor knocking him unconscious. The man in

white grabbed the boy by the collar like nothing was wrong. He threw him harshly

onto the bed, and grabbed a knife; he went towards the boy, when the man in the suit

grabbed his arm. “No James, we will do the job right.” “Fine then I will do it Sam.”

Said James.

He picked up the key from the floor that he had dropped earlier. Then walked

towards the bed where the suitcase was lying. He plunged the key through the

suitcase, and thrusts open the top, in an angry fashion. He pulled out a small

microchip about the size of a, five pence coin. Then examined it thoroughly. He had a

gleaming smile on his face. He went over to a small table on the left side of the bed,

which had various surgical equipment on it. He looked at them, and removed the

scalpel. He walked over to the boy who was still out cold, and then put the scalpel to

the back of his neck and made a small incision. Then flapped back the skin making

blood ooze out.

He used a pair of tweezers to pick up the microchip and then insert it into to the

neck. It clipped on easily and the man in the suit Sam was angry and jittery. “Has it

worked come on, come on, come on?” “Yes don’t worry.” The man had put it in the

central nervous system. It should control the whole body. The man went back to the

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brief case and took out 5 million pounds, and threw it onto the floor “is this it asked

James” the man in the suit shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know.” They were both

angry but at the same time were grinning. They both started laughing “we have done

it.” said the man in white.

The boy was still unconious lying in the bed, he was still. Water crashed down

onto his face. The boy woke up the men told him to get up and walk around the room.

He did this without question. They then told him to go outside. Leave them, the boy

walked out of the room and back into society, but the men still watched him he did

not do much, he got stuck at the doors, he kept on letting people go through the doors

instead of him. He eventually went outside it was night time he went back to his

home. Were his mum asked where he had gone, he acted normally and answered “I

went to the park with my friends.” As though nothing had happened.

He went outside he was supposed to do a marathon. That he organised last

weekend, he started the race, the men who were watching told him he had to win for

them, but as he neared the end of his race a man asked him if he could let him win.

The boy stopped and sat on the ground then started mumbling to himself the men ran

on to the tracks grabbed him and through him into the back of the van.

7/. My Discovery Chapter

“Tim look after your sister for me, please!” His mother yelled as he crossed the field

into the woods. “We’re only picking blackberries mum!” He yelled back. Tim was an

11 year old boy who had lived on a farm his whole life. His sister, Clare, was only 6

years of age and so Tim was expected to look after her everywhere they went. He did

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not mind though, because Clare was his only friend in driving distance. He did not go

to school he was tutored by his mother and taught how to be a farmer by his father.

Clare on the other hand was taken to school every day by her friend’s parents, she did

not want to go to school on a tractor. She went to school because her mother was a

very strong woman and had forced her husband to understand that they could afford

it. The Hardfod’s were a very poor family, the farm only earned them enough to get

by, plus with Clare’s school fees they had made sacrifices. One of these sacrifices was

cheap dinners. Every Sunday after church Tim and Clare would go into the woods and

pick the families groceries.

“Hay Clare! I turn my back for one second Clare where are you.”

“Boo”

“Ahhhh, don’t do that you gave me such a fright, mum said to look after you so don’t

go running off.”

“Mum is just being silly I’ve been in these woods thousands of times.”

“But you’re only five; you’re too young to run off.”

“I’m six actually.”

“Alright clever clogs”

Tim and Clare moved on following the route they took every week. As they went

along the path they stopped to pick up an edible mushroom or a healthy berry. When

they got to the blackberry bush they noticed car tracks.

“That’s strange cars don’t come down here. Clare, I’m going to check it out, you pick

the berries.”

“Only if I get first slice of the pie.”

“Deal”

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Tim went off to the gate which seemed to have been driven through by a car. He

walked further up the track, following the cars tracks; there were two tracks, one

where the car had driven at speed into the gate and another where it had reversed. He

carried on walking when suddenly he heard a scream. He ran as fast as he could

towards the sound of his sister’s fear. As he ran he noticed there were a lot of foot

prints in the mud, like a marathon had gone through.

He Got to his sister but she was unconscious he looked around for anything that could

of scared her so badly, but he saw nothing. He felt a drop hit his head. He looked up

and so a sight that repulsed him so much he threw up repeatedly. Above him swinging

from a branch was a mangled corpse of a man. He had a look of puzzlement and

confusion on his face. Tim managed to take out his dad’s old mobile and call 999

before he started throwing up. He tried talk but couldn’t and like his sister, he drifted

off, unconscious.

Detective Inspector Gordon was an extremely professional man; he kept his social and

work lives completely separate as so to keep his family safe. His first name was

James, but he never used it. James had spent 15 years working to get himself to where

he was, he had a huge reputation as villain hunter and everyone thought he could

solve any crime.

As James stepped out of the car the murmur of police discussions stopped and

everyone look at the DI. James walked over to the forensic tent to consult the team

and look at the body. They were utterly astounded. James asked the head of the

forensic team

“So what do we have here Bill”

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“I’m not sure, whoever this person was they have been so badly damaged that we

can’t even tell whether they were a male or female, they could have gone through a

blender for all we know. We did however find a turn up in the mud near where the

victim was found. They look like a gang of footprints”.

“You think he was attacked by a gang of people”

“Not only attacked, that person was hunted”

“So a gang of people and a car are chasing this person and the victim came into here

and gets caught and smashed to pieces”

“It appears that they were running and then got hit by something travelling at speed,

they were then most likely tied up and as you say, smashed to pieces.”

“But why, do we have any ideas.”

“Well we did find this on him.”

Bill pulled out a very small piece of tech from his pocket and showed it to James.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“It's a Morality Chip, we found it hanging out of the victims’ neck, it looked like it

had been ripped out. ”

“This is all we need, to find out what happened, the Morality Chip has all the data on

the criminal it is attached to and also sends a signal to a computer every 30 seconds to

give its location.”

“Then I guess you will need that then”

“Yes I will thanks a lot Bill, see you.”

James rushed over to his car, turned on the engine and returned to the station with

speed. When he got there he briefed the team on what had happened and on their

discovery, he inserted the chip into a reader.

“Hay mam I found out who he is”

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The chief inspector walked across the busy room, each step was as clear as crystal.

She peered at the computer screen.

“His name is John Randal, he was convicted of theft and sentenced to the chip, he has

no family left and all of his associates sentenced to the chip with him are dead.”

“Is that the link?”

“It is a possibility, and look at the tracking map for last night, he spent most of the

night at his home and the suddenly he come out, he is travelling at running pace and

he seems to be running in no particular direction, he gets to the park at four fifteen

where he stays there for the rest of the night.”

“But pathologist said he died at seven forty that means....”

“He was tortured for about three and a half hours before they killed him.”

Chapter 8

Curtis began to walk home; he started down discovery road when he saw his friend

Jamie on the path over the other side so he walked over to him. “Hey mate” Curtis

proclaimed, “yeh you.” Jamie replied “yeh I am ok but I have a bit of a headache.” “I

can sort that out mate, marijuana or heroine. I recently got a huge shipment through in

my lock up, so how much?” “No thanks mate, but you can’t do that it’s illegal.”

“And” Jamie said. Who’s going to tell?” “I will” Curtis murmured. “You wouldn’t,

come on mate you and we were partners in crime, we did this all the time.” “Oh

you’re joking” Jamie chuckled. “See you later mate good joke though.” Jamie said,

still laughing. As Jamie walked away, Curtis picked up the phone out of his right jean

pocket and put it to his ear; he then called the police and told them all he could

remember about his so called friend Jamie. Jamie was arrested the next day and Curtis

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went to visit him. “What you were doing was against the law.” “That’s it” said Curtis.

“I hate you, you bastard” Jamie replied.

Curtis stood up and walked out of the prison and headed home. His brother was

outside, off his head. He was very angry, “see her bruv she’s dead. “Well going to be.

Come with me tonight help me out.” “Ok” Curtis mumbled His brother left, then once

again as soon as his brother Jack left and went into the house he reached into his jean

pocket, and pulled out his phone and rang the police, he told him the time and the

place. His brother heard him and questioned him “why did you do that” but did not

realise that his phone was still on. “We are brother’s man, brothers stick together” the

police sirens screeched behind him. “You’re dead bruv I will kill you” Then he darted

out the back door. “Where did he go” one policeman said without time for thought, he

pointed through his house to the backdoor. His mother burst downstairs “what

happened what happened too Jack what did he do?” Curtis replied to her “I told the

police he tried to kill her.” Curtis pointed at a girl who was watching on a fence. “She

called the police on his last robbery with you.” “Why did you protect her?” “He was

in the wrong.” the mother began to cry and walked off.

Curtis had a dull look on his face, and walked briskly up the stairs without a care for

anything he had done. Later on that day his mother came upstairs and told him to pack

up his things he’s out. He said ok because he was told to by his mother that he had no

choice. He grabbed a suitcase and began to pack up all of his belongings. He picked

up a local newspaper and rented out an apartment and went from there his whole

family was against him he had only his friends and his own thoughts, which were

being controlled by the inventor. He went to the apartment, and paid for it with the

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money he was paid for the microchip experiment. He stayed there for a few days until

he eventually ran out of money and before he got kicked out he left. And went to a

shelter as it is illegal to sleep on the streets. He did this which is where he met a few

of his old mates. Who questioned him about why he turned in his old mate Jamie for

drugs.

“Why did you do it?” “He committed a crime and getting him arrested was the moral

thing for me to do.” “So are you going to turn on us pal or are we going to have to sort

you out. “Depends what you have done.” “That’s it mate we can’t take this anymore

Jamie told us that you didn’t even let him talk properly too you, so we wont let you

talk to us. Actions speak louder than words anyway.” “You mate are dead.” They

grabbed Curtis by the collar and brought him outside before throwing him to the floor.

They kicked him, spat on him, and punched him, until they knocked him unconscious,

which is when they got worried. The sirens of the cops police vehicle rung loud and

all of them scampered leaving Curtis lying unconscious dripping with blood on the

floor. The cops called for an ambulance and chased his previous mates. But they were

by now all long gone; the ambulance crew awoke him and sorted out a few cuts and

bruises. The police asked him who they were and Curtis gave all of there names.

He now has no-one he can rely on no friends no family he was almost isolated from

the outside world.

Chapter 9 – The Aunt

As James approached his aunt’s house, he was filled with apprehension and

resentment from the death of his family. After the car had pulled up, he got out, and

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walked up the crooked path to his new home. When his aunt had opened the door to

her nephew, she exclaimed in delight. “Darling nephew, thank you so much for

coming to me! I have wanted a child for so long, and now I finally have one! Oh such

luck I have. Unfortunately this gift comes at such an unfortunate price. I loved my

sister, I truly did, when I heard about what happened at the bank I...I... I just couldn’t

believe it. How could people be so cruel? You were so lucky to survive, as I am lucky

to look after you.”

“Well I would much rather have a family than make you happy. You could still have a

baby... But I can never have a true family again.” Replied James, with a hint of anger.

“What? Don’t you love me James? I have offered you a home, rather than an

orphanage. How can you not be happy with this?”

“No, I don’t love you. Why should I? I never would have come to visit you anyway.

Don’t try and be my mother, you could never be the same. You shouldn’t even try.

Just leave me alone, and don’t bother me.”

“Stop James!” Cried his aunt, as she tried to grab him, to stop him from storming into

her house.

“Don’t touch me, Jane!” Cried James, as he pushed past his aunt.

As James rushed into his room upstairs, Jane cried after him, “You will come back

here! And you will not call me by my name; you will only call me Auntie C!”

Two days later, as James was going downstairs to make himself a snack for later that

night, he overheard his Aunt on the phone, “And you are sure that you have a place

for him? He is a very disruptive child, and his behaviour is appalling. I hope that you

can beat some sense into him.”

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“I am afraid, Mrs. Crofonsh, that we do not beat the students anymore. It is a pity; our

punishments have never had the same effect, since the cane was outlawed. Anyway,

we would be happy to accept your son; we will soon set him right”

“Thank you headmaster, I am so relieved to know that he will be taken off of my

hands. Goodbye, Mr. Hellman”

As Jane put down the phone, James came through the door of the kitchen, and asked

“Who was that on the phone? Are you trying to get rid of me already? I knew you

hated me, but I thought you might have some compassion!”

“Don’t worry James; it was a phone call from a very prestigious and expensive private

school. I-“

“You’re sending me to private school! Away from my home, my old friends, my

things!” Shouted James

“You can take all of your things with you. You won’t even be going yet, you won’t go

for another 6 months or so, not until the new school year. By then you will have told

all of your old school friends where you are going, and why, I am sure they will all

understand the situation, and you won’t miss the funeral, I promise. You can visit at

the end of every half term if you want.” Jane explained.

“Why would I want to visit you? The only possible reason I would want to come

home is to see my friends, and even then I will try my hardest not to stay with you, I

am sure someone else will let me stay with them.” James said, with cold malice in his

words.

“If that is your attitude, then I don’t want you back. I only tried to do what’s best for

you, why can’t you see that? Are you too blinded by your arrogance to even see the

errors of your way, and what you are doing to me by constantly throwing these insults

at me? Do you really think that you were really the only one affected by the death of

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your family? Your mother was as much related to me as you, I was saddened to see

that she had died, but I took you in, out of the kindness of my heart! If you don’t want

that, then I can just send you to an orphanage, and let you go to a slummy public

school, with all those working class louts.” His aunt replied, the barriers holding back

her feelings breaking as she revealed what she had been thinking for the past few

days.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry that you lost your sister, but you can’t really expect me to

accept so soon after my family’s death? I will go to this private school, but only

because I can see I don’t have any other choice. I will go and call my friends, maybe

they won’t care, after all what are they? Just people I spent some time with. I don’t

really know any of them.” With this, James walked to his room, dejected, but relieved

of his conversation with his aunt.

Chapter (insert number) - The cleaners

As the pathologists cut open the victim’s body, they started their routine checks for

cause of death.

“Cause of death seems to have been a crushed larynx. Possible weapons could be

hands, or a blunt object. Patterns of the blow indicate it was a solid object, perhaps a

metal pole or crowbar.” The head pathologist demonstrated to his eager students how

to detect different types of death.

“Delivery here for a Doctor Johnson” Called a postman through the open doors of the

pathology lab.

“Just leave it with my secretary!” Called back Doctor Johnson

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As the delivery man left the package on the Doctors desk, he suppressed a smile as he

walked out of the doors. As he walked, he slowly took apart his latex mask that he

had designed to protect his identity from the cameras in the corridor leading up to the

lab. Quickly sealing the possible exits, he walked into the hospital.

Back at the lab, the pathologists continued their work.

“Okay, we have completed the survey of the upper and lower body, now time to move

onto the spine and skull. Now students, if you would gather round here, you will see a

classic example of a spine that has-“

“Wait a second professor, what is that in his spine? Under the axis C2, on the Cervical

Vertebrae.” Chipped in one of the professor’s star students, a prodigy from the

University of Cambridge.

As the professor took a closer look at the spine, he found a small rectangular object.

“My my, this seems to be one of these revolutionary devices, the so called “Morality

Chip. What on earth could this be here for? Surely if he had one of these...” Mused

the professor, until a sudden outburst from one of his colleagues startled him out of

his revelry.

“Doctor that must explain why there were no marks on the hands usually present

during an attack to the neck! If the man had been chipped, he surely wouldn’t have

had the will to defend himself against the attacker. We have to get the result of this to

someone!”

“Here, take my phone” Interjected another student.

After the Doctor had taken the phone, he started talking to the police department.

“Hello, officer, we have just found a startling discovery-“

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After the imposter of the delivery man had left the hospital, he turned round with a

wide grin on his face.

“Goodbye boys, to bad no one will discover the chip. It will be seen as just another

terrorist bombing, on an innocent hospital in the heart of London”

And with that, he pulled out a detonator from his pocket, and pulled the trigger.

At the lab, whilst the assassin was laughing at his success, the professor was talking to

the police service.

“Hello, officer, we have just found a startling discovery, we were carrying out a

normal post mortem on the corpse of a man found dead earlier today, and we found

something very unusual. You see-“Then, the officer on the other side of the line heard

an almighty explosion, and was then suddenly disconnected.

As the explosion ripped through the hospital, creating cracks along a major part of the

hospitals structure, collapsing ward after ward, the assassin just calmly walked away

smiling, happy with the fact that he had just caused death to many people. Who would

care about a few pathologists when there is a whole hospital full of the sick collapsing

around them? The man was even happier that there was no evidence to connect him

with the crime. No one could have found about the chip in the man, and no one ever

will, since it was destroyed in the blast.

Several days later, an expert journalist, and a very rich one at that, as over 40 years of

finding stories where no one else could have had made him a incredibly wealthy. As

he was in his huge mansion, complete with several chandeliers in each room, he had

just made a discovery. After he had slowly poured over record after record of

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bombings, incidents and accidents, his mind suddenly made the connection. He

picked up his nearby phone, and quickly called his editor.

Whilst all this was happening, the same man from the bombing of the hospital slowly

made his way up to the roof of a nearby building of this journalist’s mansion.

The journalist’s discovery was that each accident had a connection. After most of

them, a man had been reported walking out just in time before the incident. After

doing an extensive search, and a few hundred thousand pounds spent later, he had

discovered that he was part of a group called “The Cleaners” A division of the

government set up to make sure that no one finds out about their failed experiments.

He rung his editor, and started to break the news. “John, I have a story that will put us

to the very top of all papers. There is this group you see, called the-“ Just before he

could finish the sentence, he heard a fight breaking out, and then, a chilling gunshot,

and the phone went dead.

“John, John! Are you there? Hello? Are you there? What just happened?”

“He is dead. And shortly, you shall be soon” Replied a dark and malicious voice,

which promptly hung up.

After the assassin on the other side of the building got the call, he took aim with his

trusty sniper rifle, and took one very accurate shot. Not at the journalist, but at the

chandelier hanging right above his heard. The last thing the journalist saw was a

descending pile of metal and glass. The assassin walked off with the sound of a

satisfying scream behind him.

The Encounter

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Geoffrey had just got out of the office block where his company was located. He

was still buzzing from the successful meeting that had just taken place and couldn’t

wait to get home to celebrate. He was deliberating as to whether to open the 1956

bottle of champagne he had received as a present or the bottle of wine that dated from

1890, and had cost him in excess of £90 000. On the spur of the moment he decided

to walk home, a late night stroll if you will; he needed to clear his head. He decided

to stroll through the town to soak up the early evening atmosphere before going down

Hare Road, from there he decided to take a familiar short cut through an estate taking

him to Butts hill, turn right and then he’d be home. He made a mental note to ask

George; his butler; to go and collect his car from the work car park, he wouldn’t want

his Bentley to get vandalised, would he? His reverie was interrupted with the sound

of male voices and after a few more paces he was able to detect where the voices were

coming from. The voices were deep and had a gravelly edge to them and as he

listened he was aware that they weren’t speaking the Queen’s English it was a slang

version spoken with a distinct drawl. He responded with a shiver he detested this mis-

use of the English language, he believed that in the main people who spoke in this

fashion were uneducated and demotivated.

As he turned the corner he encountered a group of five or six males, who were

dressed in loose fitting clothing; most were wearing grey jogging bottoms with some

kind of hoodie. Their attire looked more like a pair of pyjama bottoms, than an item

of outwear. The hoodies looked shapeless and untidy, he found this distasteful too.

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On approaching the men the smell of smoke engulfed his senses and he also detected

a whiff of cheap aftershave. He now had a clear view of the men’s faces, he felt a

surge of rage rising within him, two of the men were white in their early twenties; but

that wasn’t causing this negative emotion, the remaining men were black. One of the

black men was exceptionally tall and had that irritating Americanised twang to his

voice; why couldn’t they speak properly? He knew what he was going to do. How

dare they ruin his victory day, how dare they. What did they contribute to society?

What difference did they make? They didn’t deserve to exist, let alone stand on the

same pavement as him. As he prepared himself he tuned into their conversation, their

talk was meaningless gibberish.

He waited out of sight of the group, his patience paid off when the group disbanded

after a short while. He had by now donned a balaclava and was holding a razor blade.

He elected to tail one of the black men, ten minutes passed before they arrived at the

man’s address, which was a flat; conveniently situated on the ground floor. He seized

the moment, took three strides towards his prey and spoke in a menacingly soft

voice.” Don’t move”. The man froze; he inhaled audibly and prepared to speak. “No,

no, no, don’t talk, listen”, Geoffrey spat. “Is there anyone in the flat”? The man

hesitated then shook his head. “Good”, said Geoffrey calmly. “Now open up the flat,

and I’ll come in for a little chat.” The man obeyed and inserted his key into the lock.

On entering the flat, Geoffrey suddenly lost his cool. He pushed the man to the floor

in disgust and drew the razor blade, slamming the door closed with his right foot. He

then proceeded to jump on the man, they struggled, Geoffrey gained supremacy

sitting astride the man after a couple of moments of scuffling on the ground, he

grasped the mans head between his knees, he raised his right hand and brought it

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down across the man’s mouth and on the backswing he inflicted the same damage on

the other side of the victims face. Then he lifted the man from the ground and

rammed him into the wall, the man’s head made contact with the wall, it snapped

back and lolled alarmingly to the side. The man dazed and confused looked Geoffrey

straight in the eye, almost apologetically. Geoffrey showed no mercy, using the wall

for support Geoffrey punched the man repeatedly in the face, causing blood to spurt

from his nasal passages. He was relentless, and then when he was spent he threw the

man onto his sofa.

Panting, Geoffrey searched his clothes for his mobile, success; he fiddled looking for

the video settings. The victim managed to summon up enough energy to rasp, “Man,

I’m sorry if I offended you or whatever, but you don’t have to do this”, he paused for

breath, then continued” I didn’t mean anything, I’ll make it up to you, I’ll…………..”

“No, you won’t do anything after this”, Geoffrey said menacingly.

“No, no more, please Man, I…………”

“Shut up”, Geoffrey shouted. “Let me create my film”. The black man looked at his

attacker with a mixture of confusion and horror. “Action”. Geoffrey set to work, sawing

off the tip of the man’s nose. Then he scraped the blade up and down his victims cheeks,

next he cut two slits above the man’s eyebrows at a 45` angle; pointing inwards giving

the appearance of a permanent frown. Finally, he body punched his prey leaving him in a

crumpled heap. As he left the flat he spoke just one word, “CUT”.

My Girlfriend Chapter

My Girlfriend Chapter

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Polly was a criminal from birth; she had grown up with three brothers and an abusive

father. Her mother died when she was three and she had been troubled ever since.

Her dad was sent down for life when he was caught dealing class A drugs. She

managed to hide one of the bags and kept it with her to remember him.

That was how she got into drugs, as her brothers went off on voyages to far away

countries she stayed in the same counsel estate. She stole from her neighbours, and

slept with random men she had never met, just to earn enough to pay rent, buy drugs

and food.

It was one of these particular, random strangers that turned out to be Curtis. He was

just like every punter; he came up to her, asked her the awkward “Are you a whore?”

She said yes and they walked off to her apartment.

It’s when they got there that he became different from other punters, she expected him

to go with her to the bedroom but instead he went to living room. She followed him

and found him in the chair waiting for her. He wanted to talk, he asked lots of

questions and Polly did in turn. Once he seemed happy he paid the money and they

got down to business.

These greetings happened for a month where he would bring money they would chat

for about an hour he would pay and they would sleep together. This then stopped

when Polly didn’t take his money and slept with him for free, they had a relationship.

Curtis, like Polly, had grown up badly and was also a criminal, when he found out

about Polly’s income problems he instantly went off and performed burglaries to get

some money for her. It was one of these particular burglaries when Curtis was caught.

He was sentenced to the chip. Polly felt so guilty and tried to make up for it by

inviting him to live with her.

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Curtis staying with her was the worst decision Polly could have made. Curtis didn’t

sleep with her anymore; he said it was wrong before marriage. He would flush her

drugs down the toilet whenever he came across them. He would ring the police every

time Polly brought a punter round. He was impossible to live with butt she could not

send him away because he was the love of her life and it had been her who had done

this to him.

One night she decided to go out to get away from him for a while, she decided to go

out and have a nice dinner by herself. She looked in her purse and realised she had no

money. She decided to find a punter. All it would take was half an hour and she

would have a purse stuffed with cash. When she found a bloke she took him to an

alley. After she was finished she headed for a posh restaurant she new.

Polly finally got home. She was the happiest she had been for a while but she felt

dirty. She headed for the shower, got undressed and began cleaning herself. Some part

of her soul was suddenly ripped out, there was something terribly wrong, where was

Curtis?

She ran out the shower and called to him “Curtis, Curtis!” She looked at the windows

and saw them smashed. She peered out, but saw nothing. She ran out the house calling

his name, oblivious to the wolf whistles and howling made by the kids below.

She ran back inside to call the police, when she noticed a piece of paper, with a

symbol. It had a capital C in the background and a broom across it. She turned it

around to find a message stamped on the back. It read:

The following occupant has been taken by the government:

Curtis Cringle

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They are not going to be freed and will remain with us until their death. Do not

call the police or any other services to try and get the person above back, if you

do you will be committing a crime and you will have to deal with the

consequences. Sorry for any inconvenience.

Polly fell back in deep shock; she had never thought she would have to deal with one

of these letters. Everyone had heard the stories of people being taken away by the

government but no one thought it was true, it was like bringing prisons back except

worse because when there were prisons you could see the criminal but this meant she

would never see her love.

My Hope Chapter

Polly decided she was going to get Curtis back, she re-read the letter over and over

again. “Imprisoned” she muttered to herself, there aren’t many prisons left.

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She pulled out her old rucksack that she used to use when she went on camps with her

brothers; they went on camps to their mother’s grave and slept next to her grave to

keep her company. She still remembered the inscription:

Here lies Sophie Drianne, mother of four

1957-1993

Fought hard for a daughter, and died before she got to know her

Our mum will be greatly missed

Everyone always remembered Polly’s mother as a mum, everyone knew the story of

the effort she put in to bringing up her children right, everyone knew she was a kind

mother and loved her three boys more than everything, but it was also common

knowledge that she had wanted a daughter.

When she finally got a daughter everyone thought she would be happy and maybe

leave the violent drunk she called her husband, but alas she loved him, ignoring

anyone who tried to open her eyes to his many flaws. So people gave up and left them

to their lives when in 1993 there was a fire in their apartment which killed her mother

as she rescued her four children.

It was very ironic that the thing that killed her was the one thing she cared about, her

daughter. If she had not had a fourth child she would of got out instead of getting

trapped just as she passed Polly to her husband.

Polly’s life had got a lot worse since then; her father was imprisoned when she was

six. She was looked after by her three brothers until one by one they moved away to

other countries. Because of her dad she had got into drugs and when her brothers

moved away she started taking drugs more frequently and her life got worse.

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She opened her rucksack to find her drugs and gloves. She put on the gloves and took

the drugs next door. She broke in, stole as much food and jewellery as she could and

put it in her rucksack she then planted the drugs in her neighbours bedroom. She

walked out of the house down the road until she was a mile away; she then tipped off

the police and imagined her old neighbours shocked faces as they were woken by

police.

She was going to head for her mother’s grave to pay her last respects before searching

for Curtis. She had never been well educated and so her geography was terrible but

that didn’t matter, she would walk from London to Manchester, the birth place of her

mother and the place of her burial. Another thing that was there was one of England’s

last prisons left as more of a monument than anything else, that’s where she would go

after her mother’s grave.

She would prostitute herself, steal and sell what she stole to get there no mater what it

took. She was a criminal by nature and it was the only thing she was good at, if her

mother had survived to bring her up things would be different but that was not what

fate had intended so she had to live like fate wanted.

As she came out of the London area she felt a great disgust in herself but at the same

time she didn’t mind she, was starting to feel guilty which was a sign of goodness,

maybe Curtis was all she needed to fix her life, this inspired her onwards.

As the sun began to set she came across a pub. She asked the pub owner to let her stay

the night for free and he refused. She noticed on his hand he had no ring and assumed

he was single. She offered him her body, the only tool she had and it worked. He

agreed to give her a place to sleep and even breakfast if he could sleep with her in the

evening and the morning.

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Two hours later they were both in a soft bed lying on their backs completely

exhausted. Polly went for a shower like always because she always felt dirty

afterwards; she then went to her room and slept. She woke up, went into his room to

see and eager man already undressed. They did the deed and once again they were

exhausted, she had another shower and then ate her breakfast, she left as soon as she

was finished.

This new life of hers was turning into quite a fun and interesting one. She would most

likely meet lots of men but not the one she wanted, that would have to wait.

The politician

As the head of the cleaners walked into the room, a sudden quietness rippled through

the room. The head, referred to only as Johnson, sat down at his usual place at the

head of the table. He begun to speak

“Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the board. Today we have had a huge success.

Our best man has neutralised the problem of the pathologists and the journalist. As far

as we know, that is all who know of us.”

“Actually, sir” said one of the newest members of the board, a young man by the

name of Simon Sanjay, a quiet and reserved man, but incredibly intelligent and

successful, a business genius. He was head of intelligence within the group. “There is

one more to find. A police officer by the name of Detective Inspector Gordon.”

As he said this, he passed Mr. Johnson a photograph of the detective.

“He was one of the men who found the corpse of one of the chipped hanging in a tree.

He recognized the chip. Thankfully he has not filled his report. There is still time.”

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“One of the men?” replied Johnson, with a quizzical look on his face.

“Well sir, there were two others, but they are only children. Surely there is no need

to-“

Sanjay was suddenly cut off, as Johnson interrupted him.

“You know the drill. Anyone recognizes us, they die. These children may remember

something, and maybe told their parents. Deaths are not necessary; we just need to

provide them with something more... important. Set up a hit-and-run accident for the

children. Not fatal, but serious. The driver must not be caught.”

“Yes sir, right away” replied Sanjay. He got up to leave the room and give the

assignment to the Assassin.

“Back onto other matters, there is a politician coming to see what we get up to.

Everyone, you must not mention what we do. Our official front is Research and

Development of Agricultural Tools. I have briefings for all of your positions here, so

read up on them. This man is of utmost important, he has been named the greatest

choice for the next Prime Minister, so we should market ourselves to him, in order

that we survive the regime change when it comes around. This man is firmly against

the chip, so make sure you are too. His name is Luis Edison, and is currently Home

Secretary. He already holds a place of power within the government, so if we don’t

please him he can shut us down. A word of advice- he is the very personification of

goodness. He is a model citizen, one of the inspirations for the chip. He hates the

death penalty, he is religious, recycles, and regularly donates to the poor. If you want

to keep the job, I advise you to mimic him.

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As Luis entered the room, everyone stood up together. He had power and he knew it,

however he would never abuse it. He was far too good for that. If he had wanted

power, he could have got it by accepting the PM’s position.

“Hello chairman, ladies and gentlemen of the board. Please, sit down.”

At his word, the people sat.

“Now, I am here to conduct our annual investigation. Chairman, will you please

explain the point of this department?”

“Yes sir. Firstly we design new tools for farmers all over the world. Our designs have

caused huge increases in farmers yields, and fertilises the grounds. Secondly we-“

The chairman’s speech was interrupted by Luis’s phone going off.

“Sorry, I will get that.”

After he had finished talking on the phone, he apologised to the chairman.

“Sorry, but we must conduct this later, I have to go. A police detective has just been

assassinated, and I have to make a statement.”

The mangled body

“Estimated time of death, 9:00 hours. Cause of death is still unknown, as any one of

these injuries could have killed him, the most fatal of these injuries appear to be

around the face and chest areas. There is an extensive gash located on his upper back

that stretches across his right shoulder and finishes at the top left of his thigh, the cut

imprecise, zigzagging, I would suggest that the attacker undertook his work in

somewhat of a rush. On closer inspection I found that a small chunk of skin had been

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gouged out at the top of his spinal column, wait I can see something in there!”

exclaimed the forensics guy.

“What is it?” queried the Chief Inspector.

“Its some kind of microchip, it’s deeply embedded indicating that it has been

positioned for quite some time, it’s even made an impression in the victim’s muscle

tissue”

“Have we got an I.D. for him yet?” enquired the inspector.

“No, nothing, no paper work was found with the body, no jewellery and no immediate

distinguishing features, we’ll have to try dental records, his face is too badly

disfigured to prepare a facial reconstruction”.

“Well I need answers as soon as possible”, snapped the Chief Inspector.

George, the forensics guy knew the Chief well enough and realised that his gruff

response was to cover the horror that he felt at the mutilation of this young man’s

body. He shared these feelings of revulsion but knew that to perform his job to the

best of his ability he must put his emotions aside. Whilst mulling these thoughts

through his head he had an idea.

“Chief can you get me a blood splatter analyst here, I need some fresh leads”.

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“I’ll get Jon, good thinking”.

“First impressions are that he was thrown against that tree there hitting the back of his

head, with some force I would say looking at the severity of the wounds, and the

amount of blood deposited on the tree trunk. I would imagine that he is unconscious

by this time, and this would appear to be the time that his attacker chose to get

creative on his back, that’s what these lines of blood on the grass are, they’ve been

flicked by the action of the knife”. Jon paused catching his breath and collecting his

thoughts.

“Then, they smashed his head with a blunt instrument, possibly a baseball bat or even

a crowbar, leaving these small pools of blood around the victims face. Then if we

look in more detail at the victims back we see a distinctive pattern, a zig zag, I would

guess this that this was made by a cleaver, even a small sword or a dagger. His piece

de resistance was the intricate cut at the top of the spine, this was precision work and I

would guess his weapon of choice was a stiletto. He must have been desperate to

remove that chip”.

Chapter 18 – The Prison

As the nondescript grey van pulled up outside of the harsh, cold government facility,

another of the same van pulled up at the same time next to them. Out of the first came

Curtis, bound, gagged and sedated. Four immaculately and identically dressed men

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walked out and grabbed the two unconscious people from the back of the vans.

Whilst he was being dragged into the building, out came Dr. C from the other vehicle.

He too was bound and gagged, and as both were slowly being pulled into the ominous

building, out walked the Assassin.

He slowly strolled towards the drivers of the vehicles, and questioned them on what

they knew.

“Did you come alone as asked, and no one saw you with the package?”

“No sir, we did not. Have you any other questions for us, or could we have our

payment yet?” Replied the older of the two drivers, a bitter man, recruited for his

ability to get the job done, after he lost his family in a fire several years ago.

“Very well. Know, if you want a higher payment than originally promised, please tell

me, do you recognise either of the two men?”

“No sir. We –“ The older of the drivers was quickly cut off by the younger, and more

foolhardy driver.

“What are you talking about? You were telling me about how he was the man how

invented this morality chip, and if we are going to get money for it, why not tell

him?”

“I shall tell you why.” Replied the Assassin, and continued “You see, my job is to

make sure this is secure. Now, can I trust you both to keep this quiet?”

“Yes sir, of course” Said the two drivers in unison.

“Thank you. Know, take the money and leave.” He handed two heavy iron briefcases,

and watched the two men enter their trucks and depart. As the two entered back into

their vehicles, the Assassin pulled out a small detonator from his pocket, and once he

had seen that they were a safe distance away, pressed the trigger. The front left wheel,

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and drivers compartment were suddenly engulfed with a roaring flame, followed by a

explosion as the heat reached the engine. As the truck had lost control, it started to

swerve, first one way, then the other, and then finally careered straight into the other

driver’s compartment of the other trunk. With a slight smile he watched as the second

truck burst into flame, which then promptly exploded. He looked up, and saw the

flaming corpse of the older driver land a few feet away from where he was standing.

As he turned, he signalled to two more men to retrieve their money.

Inside the government facility, Curtis and Doctor C. Were awoken with a wave of icy

water thrown by their guard. In their confused stupor, they staggered around the cell

before finally reclaiming their senses.

“Why are we here? What did we do? What did you do? For that matter, what did I

do!” Curtis spurted out, no control over what he was asking.

“I am here because of the morality chip, a great invention that was, amazing, I single

handily gave the government their biggest weapon. Worst mistake I have ever made.

Anyway, you are here because you have a glitch in your chip, a fault in the system.

You see, the chip is virtually perfect in every single way except for yours; you were

the first, and therefore the prime subject for testing it. You probably did not know it,

but I also have a chip, but it is a little different to yours, because it is recording

everything I see and do. All of the chips are connected via a Wi-Fi connection, which

means that if the glitch in yours was exploited, then every other chip would be

destroyed. You are the fail-safe, if we get out of here, which we won’t, or if we even

get access to a computer with a connection, we can stop them. Just one little

password, a few clicks, and the chips control is over.”Replied Doctor C. After

listening to all of Curtis’s questions.

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“So us two are unique? We can stop them? We can set everything right?” Further

pestered Curtis

“Do you really think it will be so simple as two merely getting to a computer? Where

will we find a computer, we are going to be locked in this cell with no hope of escape,

and they will through away the key, if you will pardon the clichéd expression.”

Laughed Doctor C. Bitterly.

Just then, there was a loud explosion followed by alarm bells. Gunfire burst out,

followed by some men’s screams. At the door, appeared a hot spot, like someone was

cutting their way through. As it was traced around the door, Curtis looked at Doctor

C. , who also had a look of amazement at this unusual event. The person had cut

through the door, and with a loud crash, in walked an ominous figure dressed in black

body armour, holding a British STEN sub machine gun.

My Break into Prison Chapter

Summer walked up to the front of the graveyard, head down so as not to show the

bags under her eyes. She hadn’t got any really good sleep, she couldn’t she had to

move, every minute she spent put Curtis in more danger. She didn’t know what the

government was going to do but she didn’t like it. He could even be dead now and she

wouldn’t know but for some reason she felt like being in Manchester was a good

thing, like she was meant to be here.

As she entered through the steel gates the door of the church opened and boys no

older than 14 or 15 came out in long white robes and the one at the front was hold a

huge metal cross. Summer dived into the closest bush. She hoped none of them saw

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her, she doubted it but she could be next on the government’s long hit list. Luckily

they just carried on walking oblivious to her.

Summer waited till they had entered another door further along the building and then

climbed out and walked into the once familiar graveyard. The size of it had nearly

tripled since her last visit; it looks like the church had bought land from the farmer

that used to have a field next the church. It took her an hour to find the grave but

when she did happiness flooded through her. She walked over to it and read the

inscription. She then cleaned it up a bit, removing the weeds that had grown around it.

As Summer left she felt guilty that she didn’t leave anything for her mother, so she

went back and picked up a nearby collection of flowers that had been laid on another

grave and place them on her mother’s grave then left. Suddenly she was filled with

the feeling of determination. Sorrow had been replaced by anger and tears had been

replaced with adrenaline. She didn’t know if Curtis was in Manchester or even if he

was alive but if he was she would find him. Her mothered died so the she could have

a happy life and if Curtis was key to her happiness then she would get him.

Summer walked over to a kiosk and took one of the maps of Manchester. She looked

at the page, there are only 3 prisons in England and one of them was here. “There”

she pointed to a picture of a man behind bars with the text underneath saying: One of

the world’s last prisons kept as a landmark to shun away crime. “I would like to see

them try” she muttered to herself “Nothing is going to keep me away”. She started to

walk towards a motel. A few more nights and she would have him.

Summer woke up, the tenth night in a foreign bed with a man she didn’t even know

the name of. She picked up her clothes, showered and then left taking the money she

found in his wallet. She went to a coffee shop round the corner and bought a coffee

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she then scouted out the prison. It took her an hour to walk to the prison; she didn’t

want to take a taxi in case she needed the money later.

When she got there she was surprised to see the gates were open, and there were no

guards anywhere. She walked in the gates and sore one of the most disappointing

words she had ever seen, MUSEUM. It was a museum, it couldn’t be, and she fell to

the floor and started to cry. She had been so sure that she hadn’t prepared herself for

disappointment. She got up and walked into a quiet little park so as to cry without

making a scene. It was when she had wiped her eyes at looked back at the prison that

she noticed another block that did not look open to the public.

It was a long shot and very unlikely but maybe the best place to imprison people was

to imprison them in what people assume to be a closed prison with tourists moving in

and out all the time. No one would think that people would be imprisoned in a

museum. She moved towards the back door that led to another block. She tried to

open it but couldn’t. Then she realised there was a swipe card reader next to the door.

Why would you have a swipe card reader on a disused prison? Surely they would of

been taken away a used for something else. They were not cheap to make.

She sat in a bush and waited for someone to come. She waited, an hour, then two,

then three soon she began to lose track of time. Suddenly she woke up to find there

was no light, it was night-time. She cursed herself for being so stupid and got up out

of the bush. Without the sound of footsteps a man appeared next to her. He had not

seen her, seemingly too busy trying to open the door. Summer walked behind him as

silently as a thief. He finally realised he was swiping it backwards and turned the card

around and swiped again. The door opened and he walked in. He was in there for

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about 3 seconds before... Thump, Summer hit him on the head with a slab of broken

concrete and dragged him inside

She then carried on down a dark, dingy corridor which looked ancient and in

disrepair. She had taken the man’s torch, swipe card and radio so as to be prepared for

anything. Summer came to a door and opened it slowly, it was a different world in

there, everything looked shiny and new with polished floors and lights flooding the

whole area with bright white light. It reminded Summer of a room for a mental person

except clean.

A Shout bounced down the corridor, the sound bounced off the walls making it

impossible to tell which direction it came from. Summer picked left and headed down

the corridor. She hoped she came across nobody because it would be very difficult to

hide. She would have to fight. She turned around a corner and saw what looked like a

guard slowly walking ahead of her. She slowly walked backwards but it was too late.

The guard turned around to see a young girl, in dirty, ragged clothing standing in the

middle of a corridor of a prison she should not be in. Summer saw a man with a gun.

She ran, there was not much else she could do, she couldn’t fight back he had a gun!

Suddenly she heard the sound of a whistle behind her. She didn’t stop. She rounded

another corner and came to a long corridor with prison cells either side, with people in

them! The guard was just behind her and now she saw one running towards her. The

foe in front brought up his weapon and took aim. Summer dropped to the floor and

the bullets flew over her and into the unsuspecting guard behind her.

The man fell to the floor shouting and screaming. Summer reacted quickly and took

advantage of the other guard’s shock at hitting an ally. She ignored the cheers and

laughter from the criminals in the cells and picked up the groaning man’s weapon.

She had never held a gun before let alone kill someone but she knew if she didn’t the

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guard in front would. Her enemy recovered from the shock and raised his weapon.

Summer pulled the trigger and closed her eyes. She didn’t stop shooting the weapon

was on automatic and the recoil was sending the gun everywhere but she held on and

kept her finger on the trigger.

The weapon stopped, obviously out of ammo. She opened her eyes and dropped the

weapon in shock. Straight ahead lay the body of her target, more than ten holes in his

chest. The whole corridor looked like a war field. Bodies on the floor smashed up tiles

and cracks in the roof and walls where the bullets had been knocked by the recoil. All

the criminals had gone quiet, they seemed to be shocked as much as she was.

Summer ran on. Ignoring all the pleas from the criminals. She picked up the other

gun, with ammo and ran on. It was about twenty cells down when she found him, she

had found Curtis.

The Breakout

As the figure in body armour stepped into the cell, Curtis looked around for a weapon,

a defence, anything to stop his fate, while Doctor C. Merely bowed his head down,

meekly accepting his fate. Slowly the armour creaked towards them, and they knew

their time was up. Curtis stopped seeking a weapon, and tried to crawl away. The

figure slowly took hold of their helmet, and removed it, showing Curtis and the

Creator their unknown assailant. The Creator merely looked in surprise, while

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Curtis’s jaw hung open in shock. Quickly recovering, Curtis began talking to their

rescuer.

“Polly!” was all that Curtis could say.

“Yes, Curtis. When I found out that you were being held captive, I looked around to

see where the nearest prison was. This place has a reputation for being active. If you

weren’t here, I would have gone somewhere else until I found you.” Polly explained

to him.

“Polly, I missed you, but we cannot leave, it is illegal, I won’t let you! I-“

Before Curtis could finish speaking, the Creator had hit him over the head with the

tray used to hold their food, knocking him out.

“He needed that. We can’t get him out any other way. I will carry him.” The Creator

told her.

As they left, a guard came running up to them, baton in hand. Polly turned, and shot

him straight to his heart. Running through the cold, gray building, they did not notice

the shadowy figure following them from a distance. Once outside, Polly ran into the

truck that she had stolen solely for the purpose of escaping. After Polly had entered

the truck, and the Creator had put Curtis in the back of the truck, he went up and told

Polly what happened in the cell, and told her the password and the site to stop the

chip. As he went to the back of the truck, the Assassin who had been following them

pulled a handgun, and shot the Creator in the leg. As he went down in a pool of blood,

Polly quickly slammed on the accelerator and she and Curtis roared away. In an

attempt to stop them, the Assassin fired at the wheels of the truck, but it was to no

avail. They were out of range.

“Oh well.” Mused the Assassin to himself. “I still have the man we need.”

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The Creator awoke in a dazed state, he could not move, nor could he see or hear. As

he slowly opened his eyes, he could see men standing around him, dressed in white,

with white masks.

“Ah, he is awakening.” One of the strange men said

“And you are sure he asked us to do the operation pre-mortem?” A second asked.

“Most certainly. Is everyone ready to begin the operation?” The first replied. Upon

these words, the men began their operation. The operation was rather macabre, they

started with awakening the Creator from his drugged state, and the Assassin walked

up to him.

“Now good Doctor, I have a question for you. Before we kill you, tell me what the

password is.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about!” Replied the Creator

At this word, the Assassin signalled to the doctors to make the first incision. As the

Creator screamed, the Assassin once again asked the Creator his question.

“I will ask you one more time. What is the password?”

“I will not tell you!” The Creator shouted at him.

At these words, the Assassin turned round, and told the surgeons to make his death as

slow as possible.

An hour later, the Assassin came back to talk to the Creator.

“Now, will you tell me? If you tell me exactly where to find Curtis and Polly, I will

tell the doctors to re-attach your organs, and you can live on the money raised from

your chip.”

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After hearing these words, the Creator started thinking about the importance of them.

They had never helped him, all they had actually done was hurt him, cause him

problems, and would the world really be that bad with a world of chips? The world

would be a much better place.

“Okay. As long as you let me live, I will tell you. They are currently hiding at Polly’s

parent’s home. Now, let me live.”

After the Creator had told him the location, the Assassin smiled.

“Thank you for that, good Doctor. Now, I never became as good as I was by keeping

promises.” The Assassin told him.

The look on the Creators face turned from quiet piece to absolute horror. The

Assassin pulled out his trusted handgun, put it to the Creators head, and pulled the

trigger.

After he left the operating theatre, he talked to one of the doctors.

“Doctor, burn the body. Take the chip, and download the contents.”

At his words, the doctor spoke into his phone, and two doctors came in to remove the

chip. After they had taken it, they downloaded the information and presented it to the

Assassin.

“Here you go sir. This is what was on it.”

As the Assassin looked at the information, he once again smiled.

My Dr C’s Capture Chapter

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I stared at myself in the mirror; I could see wrinkles on my face, what had happened

to me? It had been last week when I first noticed them. It was the sign of old age. My

worst enemy, far worse than any director in a boardroom. Although, they both have

their similarities. Both old age and the directors of his company want to kill me. I had

found out about the plan to kill me months ago, I had intercepted a five way phone

call where they were discussing it but they had not used it yet.

I know the reason why they cannot kill me, I have what they want. The only problem

is they don’t know exactly what it is. So what it comes down to is: they want to kill

me for having what they need and they also can’t kill me because I have what they

need. It is that stale mate that has kept me alive. But I knew couldn’t last. He turned to

the television that was displaying his picture with words: ARMED AND

DANGEROUS underneath in bold letters. They’re not stupid enough to put the chip

on me surely, unless they don’t plan to use the chip they plan to imprison me.

“Oh well” I said to myself “It was nice while it lasted”. They’re going to kill me in

prison once they have what they need. It won’t take them long to find the chip. I bent

my arm around behind my neck and took out the chip. I then walked over towards my

video recorder put it, on the table, turned it on and sat down. “My name is Dr

Crofonsh, I was born in 1959, and I will die in 2012. This is my last monologue. This

is most likely my greatest invention”. I pointed to the chip in my hand. “This is a

Yottabyte; it is one septillion bytes of memory, which is roughly one quintillion

Megabytes. If you ignore this memory chip the world’s memory comes to just under

one Zettabyte, a Yottabyte is one thousand Zettabytes”.

I took a deep breath and continued. “On this chip is my whole mind, memory, sub-

conscious memory, everything I have ever seen, heard, felt, tasted and smelt put into a

huge 6D video of my life through my eyes. That may sound like a lot but it’s not

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really, only about a billionth of what this chip can take. My mind is not the only thing

loaded on this chip, every criminal that has had the morality chip installed on their

spine has been wirelessly uploading their mind onto the Yotta-chip. I have access to

every criminal mind by installing this chip in the slot I fitted on myself”; I pointed to

the metal slot in my neck.

“I have decided to give this to you Summer, I’m sorry I can’t use your last name

Curtis Cringle, the Thief, doesn’t know it and so I don’t. By what I have seen through

Curtis’s eyes shows me you are willing to do a lot for him and so that makes you

perfect. There are instructions imbedded in this chip that you must follow, not only to

save yourself and Curtis, but to save England, you will find out why in the

instructions. Good bye and good luck”.

I got up and plugged the video recorder to the computer. I slotted in the Yotta-chip,

which worked just like a memory stick and I loaded up the video onto the chip and

slotted it in my neck. I just hope Summer is smart enough to work out where Curtis is

or all will be lost. Manchester is quiet a nice city but I doubt I will enjoy it from

behind the bars. Never mind at least I will have things to keep myself busy. I walked

into my bedroom and picked up a skin cover. I placed it over my neck flattened it

down. I looked in the mirror to see what my neck looked like. “They will never find it

until they X-ray, perfect”.

I walked back into the living room and picked up the 27 year old bottle of wine I had

received for my 46th birthday by some unknown person. I had checked it years ago

but had not had time to drink it. I walked into the kitchen and picked up two small

glasses. I walked back into the living room and placed the glasses on the table. I

opened the wine bottle and filled up both glasses. I started drinking from my glass

when Armed Response turned up, five came through the front door and three came

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through the windows. There was so much noise happening that I completely lost what

was going on, but I sat there playing cool. Armed Response was so surprised to see

me sitting there that they seemed to think they were in the wrong place.

It all went quiet except for the odd transmission the police radio. “Hello gentleman,

I’m glad some of you used the door”. A few of them chuckled. “So would any of you

care to join me for a drink”?

“I’m afraid you will have to come with us” The middle man spoke up.

“Yes, I think you may be right there” I walked out to see a squad of four cars and

about ten men in police uniform. The one I expected was the high rank officer walked

forwards and read me my rights. I was seated in the back of one of the squad cars and

was driven towards the police station. The rest of the cars stayed behind while their

drivers searched my house. As we turned the corner that hid us from view of my

house a van came out of no-where and crashed into the front of the car side on killing

both police officers in a second.

Four men stepped out of the vehicle, Two checked the police officers the other two

came over to the back, punched me in the face, breaking my nose. I tried to see what

happened next but the blood was going everywhere and I could not see anything. I

assumed I was being dragged to the back of the van. Suddenly I was chucked and my

body slammed onto a hard metal floor. I heard two doors get slammed and all the

light was gone. I heard the faint murmur of an engine and then I blacked out.

BLUETOOTH

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“You’re safe now”, Summer gasped.

“You won’t get away with this”, Charlie exclaimed.

“Shut up Charlie”, Summer snapped back at him. He did as he was told. “Let’s just

keep walking and get away from here”.

As they progressed she happened to glance into a house and found her eyes drawn to

a television set which was broadcasting the BBC news. She instinctively checked the

top right of the screen to confirm the time, it showed seven o’ clock, she made to turn

away, but something had caught her eye. The news bulletin read Bluetooth search,

she dismissed the item and then something snapped her back to her senses. The

Bluetooth code on the screen, Mo7a1ity. She frantically searched for her phone,

found it and scanned it for the code she knew would be there, it was. She turned to

Charlie. “We have to get out of here, now!”. They set into motion as one. Summer

was thinking on her feet, literally, where would be a safe place? Then it clicked. “We

have to make our way to the countryside, a.s.a.p.”

“Why”? questioned Charlie.

“Just do it Charlie”.

They ran aimlessly for at least ten minutes and luckily stumbled on what they were

looking for, a public footpath. In unison they stopped to get their breath back.

“We’re safe”

“From what? Inquired Charlie.

“From danger, as in people trying to hunt us down, as in half the population of the

U.K.”

“What are you talking about, Summer?”

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“I can’t explain now, let’s just hide out in these woods, beyond this footpath and lie

low until it feels safe to venture out”.

Summer was as good as her word and immediately set about building a structure out

of bracken and branches. She soon realised that this task was greater than she had

first anticipated, the thought of keeping Charlie safe gave her the will to carry on.

Summer was abruptly woken from her sleep by loud music. It took her some while

to regain her senses, when she did she was able to make out voices. She peered

through her makeshift walls and spotted a large group of teenagers gathered at the end

of the footpath, they appeared to be extremely animated, and she got the feeling that

this group was not one you would wish to meet in a dark desolate place, just like the

place they found themselves in. The music was turned off and the conversation and

laughter ceased. The group began to communicate in whispers and their body

language projected their discomfort. Summer in turn started to feel anxious and just

to heighten her fears one of the members of the gang turned and stared straight at her.

That was enough for Summer. She shook Charlie awake “Run”, she hissed. Charlie

looked dazed and confused, his reactions were slow. “Now”, Summer barked.

Charlie didn’t need telling twice, he jumped to his feet and fled their camp and ran

straight into the group of youths. “Oy, oy Mate”; this was uttered by the tallest

member of the group who appeared to be the leader. The youth had a small face;

which would have been handsome if it had not been pulled into a grimace, topped

with a thatch of black hair. “You’re the one everyone’s looking for innit, spat the

boy, managing to run each word into the next, developing a new language.

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“Everyone’s looking for me”? repeated Charlie, even more bewildered. “Let’s bash

him up a bit, before we hand him over to the Cops”, piped up one of the other boys.

“No”!, Summer shouted.

“Oh, how could we forget you love”, said the dark haired leader, much to the

amusement of the rest of the gang. “Don’t worry we won’t grass you up”, again the

gang found this hilarious. The leader positioned himself in front of Summer, “You

look nice love, made an effort for me”, he smirked.

“Bite me”, Summer replied with venom and with that kneed the boy in the groin. The

leader fell to the ground writhing in agony. “My way of saying thank you for the

compliment”. The boys friends were taken aback, but determined not to back down

without a fight, with or without their tall friend. There were five of them, including

their friend on the ground. “Summer”, Charlie was visibly shocked by Summers

actions, but nothing prepared him for her next action, she picked up a branch and

wielded it at the gang. The boys were astounded. “You want it, come and get it”, she

screamed at the top of her voice. She swung the branch wildly at one of the boys. He

jumped back realising that she was deadly serious, one of the bolder members of the

gang stepped towards her just at the wrong moment as she swung back the branch and

followed through making contact with his hand. The boy crumpled to the ground, his

friends had seen enough, they scarpered. Summer didn’t need a second chance she

grabbed Charlie’s hand and fled. When they reached the footpath she spied an

immaculate Ford Escort RS Cosworth, a car known for its quick acceleration, popular

with thugs and boy racers, perfect.

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My Riot Chapter

Ray woke up sweaty; he had been having these nightmares since last summer ever

since he realised what went on in Calamore Colognes. He had been working for CC

industries for five years and had been a dedicated vegan for ten. He had always loved

animals, he had grown up on a farm with his father and his best friends had been

animals. He never really fitted in with the other children at his school and got bullied

for being weird and poor, but he learned to defend himself, turned out he had a

signature move, the right hook. He broke a bullies jaw when he was cornered by his

locker, blood had gone everywhere.

Ray got up and checked his digital clock by his bedside table, 4:30. He had never

been up this early. He hated the whole idea of eating meat, animals have as much

right as humans to live so why should we eat them it was unfair, chickens don’t eat

humans. Ray had been involved the 1982 animal rights protest but this year they had

gone too far.

Ray went into the bathroom to wipe his face and get his bearings, it had been

yesterday when he had walked into the upstairs labs to deliver a message to one of the

scientists when he had seen the big secret. One of the men in a plain white lab coat

was spraying some cologne on a monkey in a cage. The monkey had no fur, and

looked very red like it was sun burnt, it wasn’t until Ray looked closer that he saw

blisters covering the monkey’s entire body. The monkey was screeching rubbing is

eyes trying to get away from the cologne but the man kept pulling it back for more, he

had an evil grin, like he was enjoying it.

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Ray remembered the anger that ignited in his very soul, he had clenched his fist in

pure hatred of this man torturing one of our species closest relatives and gave the man

his right hook, he hit him in the back of the neck and there was a devastating crack

that echoed of the walls above the sound of the screaming monkey. Blood spurted out

of the hole in the man’s head. It started to cover the wall behind him. Ray had put the

man’s lab coat over his dead body and put a new one on from the closet; he then took

the still screaming monkey and ran. Not one person questioned the monkey which

made Ray think everyone was in on it. They still hadn’t court me yet.

As soon as Ray had left the building he contacted some people and had set up a meet.

He remembered wetting himself as he talk in front of fifty odd people all with

surprised and angry faces at what he told them about what he had seen. It wasn’t until

he showed them the monkey that really sparked the fury. They had set up a date,

today, and they were going to attack CC industries and save the animals. Everyone

was to bring a weapon of some kind and except that there would be bloodshed and

lots of police and they most likely wouldn’t make it back.

Ray picked up the lead pipe he had taken from his sink, it had been resting by his bed

for the last week and fiddled with it for sometime before he picked up his leather

jacket and left. He got to the square two hours early and spent the extra time scouting

the targets. Ray had never noticed the security surrounding the building until now;

there were at least ten men in uniform. Eventually some others from our group came.

They had to split up so as not to draw suspicion.

Once almost everyone was there they marched towards the shining glass windows on

the outside of the CC industries building. When they got a few feet away from the

security guards they drew their weapons and attacked. Knives, pipes, chair legs where

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swung into flesh and bone. Ray even herd guns go off. The guards were brutally

slaughtered as the mob mashed them into what could only be described as mush. The

guards were down in seconds, we then smashed the reinforced glass which was not

our best idea because huge pieces of glass fell and we had to dodge them, the mob

received a lot of casualties because of that.

The mob then proceeded into the building and killed anyone they could find. Ray took

out a receptionist who tried to defend herself with the monitor of her computer but

had no chance against the rage of him. Suddenly an explosion went off in a room

above and part of the ceiling collapsed killing three young girls running for the door.

Another explosion happened and more debris, this time a lot closer to Ray. He ran

into a side door and saw some workers huddled up behind the sofa of the staff room;

it only took a second to wipe them from existence. Ray looked at the bodies of the

workers, large dents in their heads with blood gushing out onto the floor.

Ray focussed on their bodies for some time, lost in what he had done, but was awoken

by the sound of sirens. He looked through the blinds of the staff room and saw

roughly twenty cars, some armed response. He shouted to tell everyone and then hid

in the staff room. He heard gunshots, and shouts and screams, the mob had no chance.

Suddenly a huge explosion happened in the room next door and a man from armed

response flew into the staff room and hit the wall with a loud snap. His crumpled

body lay against the wall. Ray went over to him and took his gun. He slowly edged

his way round the door frame to see if there were any survivors of the explosion. They

all looked dead.

Ray stayed there leaning against the door frame and waited for some more armed

response. Suddenly he noticed some movement; one of the bodies lying on the floor

was reaching for his gun. Ray shot two bullets into his back and the man went back to

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being lifeless. Some of the mob started coming down the stairway arms full with

cages loaded with animals. Ray shouted at them to let them out and they did. As the

animals rounded the corner to fresh air they were shot. Just like that their lives were

taken for no reason and then it occurred to Ray, that’s what they had done to the

people who worked here, that receptionist had done nothing and now she was dead. A

wave of guilt washed over Ray as he realised what he had done.

It was then that Ray decided to call it quits, he dropped the weapon and put his hands

behind his head, and he slowly walked out into the open and turned to face the armed

response. They opened fire. Unimaginable pain shot through Ray’s arm and leg. His

chest felt like it had been ripped in two. He could feel his clothes get wetter and

wetter; he was going to die drenched in his blood alongside fallen animals. As he fell

back he noticed everything more clearly, the air was full of the smell of blood and

smoke from the bomb, there was sound all around him, people shouting. He felt very

cold and then his head connected with the marble floor and it was over.

Summer – is a simple girl who knows what she wants, and she wants Curtis.

They are in love and have made vague plans about vague cottages in the country with

vague children and dogs. Summer is a prostitute, and has been for three years. Curtis

believes her when she says she is going to stop, he has to believe her. But she shows

no sign of giving up. Her addiction to crack cocaine wont allow her. Summer became

addicted to drugs to escape the memories of her troubled family. Summer is surprised

to be in love, and now that she is she is determined to keep Curtis. Summer is a petty

criminal caught up in a lawless world. Her kind are scared for the first time since

capital punishment because the chip has been introduced. So they run and they fight

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to keep them selves alive in the criminal empire that is England. Summer was not

always evil, her mother tried to keep her on the good path, but her abusive father

ruined any chance of this life for her.

Curtis – is a petty criminal, he is also ‘chipped’ which means he can do no wrong.

Curtis will die. Curtis is from an underclass that cripples British society. He has a

girlfriend called Summer who is a heroin addict, that is why Curtis is a petty criminal

and in prison. Whilsty he is there he is given something important by an inmate called

Dr ‘C’. Curtis has many enemies, in and out of prison. The govt also wants to hurt

him now because he has been chipped again by Dr ‘C’. This time Curtis has

unwittingly received the passwords / codes to computer systems that could shut down

all prisoners who have been chipped. That means there would be chaos.

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