Free Science Fiction Stories

Free stories from the depths of my imagination

Wee Basic and Neo Spring Comp 2008

Forgot to mention that I’m pleased (but not insanely outrageously excitedly enthusiastically ready to pop a  multitude of corks) that Wee Basic came in the top 10 winners of the Neo Spring Competition.

See: http://www.neoflash.com/forum/index.php?topic=5080.0

Thank you to Dr Neo et al.  I’m assuming that Dr Neo is not a medical practitioner and likely not the holder of a phd.  I think he’s a doctor of competitions.

Actually, this is all a bit meh.  I think I’ll go back to my hovel which is a metaphor for the rock I live under, which is a metaphor for the simile that my life is like eternal confinement  (I’d take the red pill any day).

By the way, I’m sick of using the comments for arguments between my many different personalities so if someone wants to leave a comment, don’t feel shy!  Well, back to my medication….

May 16, 2008 Posted by freescifistories | Nintendo DS | | 2 Comments

Used

In the morning light a new life opens its eyes to the world for the first time, although she does not know this. In her own mind, she has been alive for twenty-one years. She has been programmed with childhood abuse and many other horrific experiences.

She looks around the room in which she has just been born. Her eyes are bright and they reveal a fantastic intelligence. They open widely and they are beautiful. Four walls painted white surround her. Watching her with some concentration is Dr Bruce McCoy. He looks at her with his middle-aged eyes and balding head, with remnants of black graying hair on its sides. He peers at her through his gold-rimmed glasses, his clean, white coat shining as it reflects the light streaming through a small window. The window reveals grasslands and trees but it is a narrow opening to this cold, clinical place. The laboratory is located somewhere in the country, away from prying eyes.

“Hello Mary, “ her God, Dr McCoy says softly, amazed at his own creation.

Mary looks at her world, but she cannot look at herself. Her simulated experiences have caused her to have no self esteem. In fact, the major symptom is that she has no self image at all. To the layman this means that she does not know what she looks like. She has almost no concept of self.

Her God quizzes her as if providing her with psychotherapy. She tells him of her trouble understanding how he and others may perceive her physical self. The fact that her face is beautiful is unknown to her. Her straight, shoulder length blond hair sways from side to side as she shakes her head in providing a negative answer. The world is a confusing place for her. She does not know who she is.

After being confined to the laboratory for many months, she becomes restless. She decides to ask Dr McCoy a very obvious question. “When will I leave this place?” she cries softly. A solitary tear runs slowly down her cheek.

McCoy becomes unexpectedly defensive. “Mary, you are still not well. You are not ready to go back to the world. You must stay here until I can cure you.”

“But when will that be?” she retorts. “I may never be better. I miss the outside world. I miss all of the lovely things in it. I miss my family. I want to see them again. My god, why don’t they at least visit me? Can I call them?” She is now sobbing.

McCoy denies her request and promptly leaves the room. He feels that he has made her too authentic. He considers the best way to move forward. Perhaps he should discontinue the experiment.

Mary is not happy. She must find a way out. She conceives a plan to sneak out of her room. While McCoy is away she feigns unconsciousness. The guard enters the room to observe the aftermath. He saw her fall to the ground on his terminal in the control room. The guard is not able to help because he knows the truth. Medicine or medical treatment is useless. He leaves the room to call McCoy but he makes a fatal error. Believing that Mary cannot move, he leaves her door ajar. Mary had counted on this happening. As soon as he has left the small room, Mary stands up and sneaks out.

Mary twists and turns until she finds a room with a computer inside. She remembers how to use computers and turns it on. Strangely it does not have much security and she easily guesses the password “God” as she knows that McCoy sees himself as a deity. Unfortunately she does not know how far it goes. She gains access to her file.

Now the shock. Mary is astounded. She cannot breathe. She does not breathe. She will never breathe. She is not human. McCoy’s file reveals it all.

Mary’s problems have all been engineered for an experiment. Mary is a robot. McCoy is her creator.

Mary is angry, upset and destroyed inside. To think that all of this time she was some one else’s tool – a means to an end. Why was she made to suffer? She was not even considered to be important, not even a proper form of life. She had been used. Her feelings were programmed. She was nothing.

Nothing….

She began to scream and scream. Her voice is hollow. Then later she is buried in the ground. Breathing in the choking dirt, she tries to scream once more. The scream does not escape her lungs. She turns to her side only to find the burned corpse of her sister lying next to her.

She tries to scream…. Scream… please….

Then she is on fire. She burns. The pain and suffering are finally no more.

Perhaps her new daughter will make a better subject.

May 12, 2008 Posted by freescifistories | Short Stories | | 2 Comments

Self Critique

Your stories are BS. You think they’re so deep do you? You’re just a depressed, shallow b@stard who wants attention. Ooh, come and look at my site! Come and see how I can’t even put two words together without embellishing, overstating and not even building characters. Do you ever have a single original thought that isn’t just sh1t? Yeah - short stories with emphasis on short because you don’t have the frigging brain power to write more than a few hundred words. You are lazy and you have absolutely no talent b1tch! That’s why you’re too scared to go to a real publisher because you’re going get rejected, you two bit fake arsed f#ck.

Oh, and I haven’t forgotten wee basic. It’s called ‘wee’ because it’s a piece of p1ss.  What a half arsed attempt at a project. Wow I can play tic tac toe! I can make a character move on a background. Gee what a f#cking revolution! You’re taking the DS from a modern games console back to the f#cking eightees with an obscenely bloated and buggy version of an interpreter that Bill Gates wrote in 4K!

Hope you’re happy you left your lazy, half arsed, untalented, b#llsh1t, f#cked up, boring, d1ck tw@t mark on the web, you f#cking idiot.

Oh, and in case it’s not already f#cking obvious the only worthwhile pick on your so called ‘poll’ is get a life. Maybe you should add ‘get some talent’.

May 12, 2008 Posted by freescifistories | Asides | | 2 Comments

Nothing

Dissociation was his greatest strength. He would move from time to time and place to place in a state of disbelief. The journey didn’t seem to matter any more and the destination was just a haze.

He was a big fan of the Matrix trilogy because he could relate to its theme. It wasn’t that there were machines taking over the world in his version of reality. That wasn’t the point. It was the fact that he could see through to the core concept that reality is just a construct of sensory perception.

In fact, it went deeper than that. To him, the universe was just a construct based on rules that we call the laws of physics. He knew that those who lived within the construct were bound by its rules. If he could somehow leave the construct those rules could be broken. After all, the singularity at the core of a black hole breaks the rules and his thought was that the singularity was free from the construct. That was the key to success and perhaps even the reason why we were here in the first place.

But how could he free himself from the construct and break the rules? He would have to distance himself further from what others perceive as being reality. He looked at his surreal surroundings. He was sitting in a coffee shop eating a sandwich. He barely tasted it. It may as well have been cardboard.

The constant murmur of the conversations around him was frustrating. How can they go on with this charade? Were they happy being a temporary part of the construct? He theorised that they had forgotten that they were mortal.

He began to dissociate. It was as if his thoughts were floating into a thick fog. Everything became meaningless. He closed his eyes to the world and became unconscious and unfeeling. His perception ended.

He awoke with a jolt. How had he fallen asleep? He quickly opened his eyes expecting to feel overwhelmed with embarrassment, but that didn’t happen. He wasn’t at the coffee shop anymore. He was nowhere. There was nothing but darkness around him.

He suddenly realised that he was traveling through the darkness at a very high speed. Where was he?

Do you want to find out?

May 12, 2008 Posted by freescifistories | Short Stories | | 13 Comments