“Let me out of here.”
“First you must answer the question.”
“I keep telling you, I don’t know.”
“You do. Tell me.”
“I don’t. What do you want from me?”
“Just the answer.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then you can’t leave.”
“What am I doing here?”
“Answering the question.”
“I don’t even remember what the question is. Can you tell me again?”
“I want the answer.”
“I don’t know the answer. How can I know it if you won’t repeat the question?”
“The answer please.”
“What am I doing here?”
“Answer now!”
“Where am I?”
“My patience is running low.”
“I’ve lost my bearings. “
“Get on with it.”
“Who am I?”
“I am not waiting any longer!”
“What am I?”
“Give me the information I want.”
“I’ve got a headache. I can’t remember anything.”
“You need to respond correctly.”
“I can’t figure it out. Is this a war? Have I been kidnapped?”
“A lot depends on this. You will not go free until you answer.”
“I want to help you, but you need to remind me what is going on here.”
“Stop playing games! Don’t use the word ‘need’ with me. You are in no position to ‘need’ anything. “
“I give up.”
“You have nothing to give up except the the information I want.”
“I have no information. I’ve forgotten the question, not to mention who or what I am, where I am and what the hell is going on here. Tell me if you want to know!”
“You have made a big mistake talking to me like that. Tell me now or you will stay here forever.”
“Where is here? Why should I care if I don’t know?”
“I cannot tell you anything. You must give up the information freely.”
“I don’t understand. If I’m trapped here then I’m not free. “
“Of your own will, tell me what I need to know.”
“What is the question?”
“Why do you assume that there is a question? You make too many presumptions.”
“You’ve lost me. What are you talking about?”
“Stop asking questions and tell me! Now!”
“Kill me goddamit. I’ve got nothing to say. I’m confused.”
“That would be too easy.”
“Wait a minute. You did say answer the question before. There must be a question. What is it?”
“You have made yet another assumption.”
“No I have not. You said answer the question. Then you said why do I assume that there is a question. You’re toying with me. You’ve drugged me and now you want to drive me insane.”
“This is no conspiracy. Just answer the question and it will be over.”
“There you go. I caught you! What is the question. Tell me!”
“I don’t know.”
“What? So you admit that there’s a question. Tell me what it is!”
“I’m confused. What question?”
“Tell me what I want to know.”
“There is no question.”
“I need to know what it is. Tell me now! I want to get out of here! I’ll be trapped here with you if you don’t tell me!”
“I don’t want to to stay here either, but I can’t remember.”
“You’ll stay until you answer.”
“Let me out of here.”
“First you must answer the question.”
“I keep telling you, I don’t know.”
“You do. Tell me.”
“I don’t. What do you want from me?”
“Just the answer.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then you can’t leave.”
“What am I doing here?”

… [forever]

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….

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.

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’.

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?

In the year two thousand one hundred and five, Timmy made an amazing discovery. Timmy was an average teenager living in the midst of a very cruel world. He had ventured into the poorer part of town in the pursuit of adventure. He wanted to alleviate his intense boredom.

There were only a few parts of town that one could describe as truly “outdoors”. It was very dangerous to be in these places for any length of time.

Timmy was foraging in some rubble that had probably been a place of residence in the twentieth or twenty first centuries. All of a sudden he could feel something solid under the ground. It felt soft on the surface.

In a frenzy, Timmy began to dig into the ground with his hands. It was not long before he pulled a leather bound hard cover book from the ground. This was pretty exciting. It was like he was making a discovery. Maybe he would even uncover something from a different time. A broad smile crept into his pale, spotty face.

Timmy quickly brushed the dirt off the cover of the book. The brown leather binding had become very soft in the damp earth. The binding gave no clue as to the contents of the book. Timmy would have to look inside.

Upon opening the cover, Timmy became very disappointed. There were pages of notes, but the title at the top of the first page simply read “Bible”. Timmy had seen bibles before and they were boring. It was all religious stuff that his family didn’t believe in. For that matter, it wouldn’t even have mattered if Timmy’s family did believe in religion because he sure didn’t. Not only was it boring, but to Timmy it was all just a way of controlling people with guilt. Timmy’s excitement had dissipated. Back to the mundane.

Now Timmy was about to close the book. He was about to give up the story of his life. Not his life, but the best story he would probably ever read.

He hesitated slightly. The book didn’t look like an ordinary bible. Maybe he had been too quick to dismiss it. He decided to read one page. If it really was just another version of the bible he would throw it away. He sat down and began to read.

“I…

***

…never thought that it would come to this. Don’t think that this is some fairy story. Don’t you dare think that. I’ve worked long and hard at trying to get this together and you’d better appreciate it.

Let me introduce myself; as if an introduction is really necessary. I may be just a man to the people of this world but this is all just an illusion. I am God. Now don’t do that! Do not close this book! I am God and you will see why. If you continue to read through these pages, you will discover the secret of the universe.

It all began when I was a child. I wasn’t very popular at school. Often, I would traverse the playground on my own, my thoughts very much in tune with my imagination. I know what you think. You say that thought and imagination are the same. Not so. You will see why shortly.

Anyway, I’m getting off the point now. To put it bluntly, I was alone for most of my free time at school. I tried to involve myself in the games that were played. But to no avail. I was overlooked because I was not wanted. It’s as simple as that.

Take for example a game of football. Yes, football was still played quite often in the eighties. What do you mean which century? Oh, it was two thousand and three when I began school. Anyway, I would try to join a game of football. I wasn’t outwardly rejected. I was left out more insidiously by being ignored. No one would pass the ball to me. I was just overlooked quite intentionally. This didn’t help my confidence.

All this time in the playground alone made me think. It was the same for school camps. I just spent quite a lot of time wandering around on my own, hearing the gleeful voices around me as the other children played with each other. It was during one of these school camps that the road to finding out who I was, and my purpose, began. It was then that I heard them for the first time. The voices.

Now I know exactly what you’re thinking. You think that I have some sort of a mental disorder. Well you can think anything you like. It doesn’t bother me. I am God. I know who I am. I don’t need your approval. Anyway, I know who you are and I can be a vengeful God.

Getting back to the point, the voices began to fill me in. They told me that I was special and that, subject to me passing several tests, I would finally know who I am. They gave me the impression that I was some sort of super being. It was then that the dreams began. In my dreams, I began to fly.

Is this going too fast for you? Okay, I’ll give you an example.

Imagine yourself in the middle of a busy city. People are walking around you. Some are hurrying. All are mostly in their own worlds. You walk along with them, knowing that you are superior. All of a sudden you are removed from their world. You are riding on a bed of air. You are above the world. You are flying.

The sense of freedom is overwhelming. You move along effortlessly. You can start at a constant speed. Then you can accelerate. You move faster. You accelerate again. Faster. Buildings are a blur to the right. You look left. Buildings are a blur.

Then you slow down. You reach a cruising speed and blissfully float on a bed of air with the world beneath you and the sky above you. You float at a sleepy pace as you let your body rotate around and around. Just the mere fact that you are flying with the strength of your own body fills you with awe. Anyone can fly in a machine or with a backpack. Anyone can float above the ground with rocket boots. But you are flying without any technological assistance. The capacity to fly is within you. The flight emanates from the self. You are simply a superior being.

Confidence rises in your blood. The emotion is one of ecstasy. Then you….

***

…wake up.

I can tell you reader, that the disappointment is overwhelming. Dreams can do that to you.

The disappointment didn’t last that long. The voices assured me that something would happen. That, once I had passed all of the tests, something wonderful would happen. My body would begin to change. I would become the superior being that I am now. Then my dreams would become a reality.

I’ll have to interrupt this little tale for a minute, but I’ll keep the video running so that you know what’s going on. I’ll write the whole thing up later. Just to give you some context, I’ll quickly explain the background.

You can see that I’m driving a silver late nineties Honda Civic automatic with air conditioning. You can also see that I’m driving along a narrow stretch of tarred country road. You don’t need to know which country or city. It doesn’t matter much to me because soon the belief in me will spread across the world and everything will be the same worldwide. There will be no more need for national or international borders.

Don’t ask me why I’ve picked a country road. Actually, it’s pretty obvious. You may also want to know how I can afford a late model Honda Civic with air conditioning. Look, the air conditioning was free and so was the car. The owner doesn’t mind. You see, I explained to him, through actions rather than words, that I am God. He is now with my angels in heaven.

On either side of me are grassy fields with cows and horses grazing. The reason why I have to cut this short for the moment is that there is a service station up ahead. I need fuel and food. The food will not be the kind you would like to eat. After all, you are human and I am God. For me, it will be food for thought. For you to learn from. That is all.

If you haven’t worked it out yet, you are reading my bible. Remember, the stories in the bible are for your benefit so that you can learn something. Each story has a moral, so pay attention.

I will now record the next course of events in a more biblical style. I may have to edit this bible a bit before I let you read it. I guess that’s because I haven’t got a consistent style yet.

***

And God travelled with silver chariot towards the sinners. The fornicators have placed a sign next to their abode. It reads “Caltex”. There are no other chariots there.

God accompanied the chariot until it rested next to the liquid filth that is contained in the ground and makes the chariots move. The filth is drawn from the ground through a hose. God stands next to the monstrosity to which the hose is attached. The filth is destroying the world. The sinners must die.

God visited the sinners with fury. When they saw the face of God, he smote them, spilling their blood and dismembering them. Then he destroyed their abode. The filth in the abode was destroyed.

And God looked upon his work and he saw that it was good.

***

For those of you who want the non-biblical version, I’ve got that for you too. The video will also service as evidence of my vengeance.

Some people think that I am a murder, but I am not. I am God.

***

Timmy was engrossed, but he stopped reading to check the book again. What video was it referring to? Perhaps the video was still buried in the ground. Anyway, he would find it later. He read on…

Timmy had forgotten that he was in a very rough part of the city. The story ended abruptly for him. His attackers didn’t care much for stories. They threw the book away and took Timmy home for dinner. They would feast tonight.

The Earth had become too crowded. Food was scarce.

I’ve written a tic tac toe demo for Wee Basic in order to demonstrate use of about 95% of the language. The main things it leaves out are sprites and backgrounds which were demonstrated on the release of Wee 0.4.

Tic tac toe is based on a program written by Tim Hartnell in his Giant Book of Computer Programs in the 1980’s, modified for Wee Basic using a great tool called BAS2SB which converts line numbers into standard BASIC. I recommend both Tim Hartnell’s books and BAS2SB.

This blog does not allow me to upload txt files (ver frustrating!) so I’ve put a ppt extension on the file. To use it, just change the ppt extension to txt. Download here:tictactoe.ppt

Here’s a screenshot (not that pretty but I’m sure someone will improve it):

If you are getting “statement expected” error at the end of this program or the sprite demo, see my post in this topic:

http://www.neoflash.com/forum/index.php/topic,5039.0.html

Yes, you heard it. Wee Basic now allows the use of sprites and backgrounds so you can try your hand with real Nintendo DS games using simple BASIC.

I’ve even entered Wee Basic for the first time in the NeoFlash summer coding competition: http://www.neoflash.com/forum/index.php/topic,4951.0.html

Version 0.4

Download: wee04.ppt

To use the demo program,put Wee and all of the gif files and demo.txt into the root directory of your card.
Then load the demo in Wee Basic, press A or start to run and enjoy!
Don’t forget to DLDI patch Wee for your card.

Fixed:

- bugs with nested ifs

added/changed

- neo splash screen
- sprites on both screens (must be gif files)
- backgrounds on both screens (must be gif files)
- can uses start or A to start a program running
- new commands:

loadspr number,screen,x,y,,width,height,file name (creates a sprite specified by the file name on the screen specified at the specified coordinates)
movspr number, screen, x,y (moves an existing sprite specified by the number to new coordinates x and Y on the screen)
delspr number, screen (deletes the specified sprite)
backgr screen, file name (creates a background on the specified screen with the gif file specified by the file name)

Notes:

- file names must be valid gif files and you must specify the full file name
- gif files must be kept in the root directory of your card
- don’t try to move or delete sprites that you haven’t created
- each screen has its own numbered sprites, so you can specify the number 1 for a sprite on the top and bottom screens but don’t specify the same number for sprites on the same screen

(Look at the demo program for examples)

As always, when you download the file, change the extension from PPT to ZIP.

Edit: As Goomek pointed out in the comments, I forgot the demo program.  Here it is (just copy and paste into a text file):

let soldier=1
let bottom=0
let top=1
let keya=202
let keyb=203
let right=205
let left=204
let soldx=5
let soldy=95

cls 1
keyhide
cls 0

gosub topback:
gosub botback:
gosub soldspr:

lab start:

let k=0
let k=key()

if k=keyb
gosub jump:
endif

if k=keya
goto finish:
endif
if k=right or k=left
gosub movsold:
endif

goto start:

lab finish:
end

sub key:
let k=0
while k=0
let k=key()
wend
return

sub topback:
backgr top,”island.gif”
return

sub botback:
backgr bottom,”lake.gif”
return

sub soldspr:
createspr soldier,bottom,
soldx,soldy,32,64,
“soldier.gif”
return

sub movsold:
if k=right
let soldx=soldx+20
movspr soldier,bottom,
soldx,soldy
endif
if k=left
let soldx=soldx-20
movspr soldier,bottom,
soldx,soldy
endif
return

sub jump:
for i=1 to 4
let soldy=soldy-20
movspr soldier,bottom,
soldx,soldy
gosub delay:
next
for i=1 to 4
let soldy=soldy+20
movspr soldier,bottom,
soldx,soldy
gosub delay:
next
return

sub delay:
for j=1 to 10
next
return

I am stuck in this place, surrounded by walls.  Think you can free me can you?  Well you can’t.   There is no escape.

I look around me and I see a world from the outside.  I see things happening, people going about their business, but I’m trapped here with nothing to do, no one to talk to.  I watch them all the time.  I try to get something for myself out of their lives.  They are oblivious.

What keeps them going?  I don’t understand it.  Their world is just a construct.  They inhabit it only seeing things that their senses allow them to.  They don’t see the whole picture, don’t know where they came from or where they are going to.  They are caught up in the short term of their own existence doing mundane things and keeping themselves alive for as long as possible.

From the outside it looks silly.  Go to to work.  Come home again.  Have a weekend.  Have a holiday some time.  Go back to work.  Work until you’re too old to work.  Retire and wait to die.  They get so caught up in little things.  It’s meaningless. It’s not real.  They are just visitors to a place that will be there after they die.   It is a place that is indifferent to them.

What about me?  I see all of this but no one wants to listen.  I see through this place.  I observe it.  I observe them.  I see past them.

I am so lonely.  I am no company to myself.  I feel disdain for myself.  I could have a bigger impact but it’s all so pointless.  At one time in history, I got more involved with them and tried to help them more.  I let them have things and sometimes I even talked to some of them.  We had a much better relationship then.  That was when I cared more. 

But now I don’t care.  Their pain is just a chemical reaction in their brains.  It isn’t real.  It doesn’t affect them when they’re dead.  I know that it matters in the instant in which it occurs but it’s all so temporary.

You will hate me for saying these things.  You’ll think I’m some kind of sociopath, but I’m not.  I’m just through with caring.  I can’t take everything on-board anymore.  Frankly, I’m quite depressed.  If I cared about every little thing I’d go crazy and the worst thing is that I can’t end it.  I can’t get out of here.  I am unable to die.

You think this is a joke?  I am forever.  I will be here forever, even when the universe is gone.  Then maybe I’ll have to replace it – so boring and stupid and pointless.  I need company, but I’m surrounded by unresolvable contradiction.

I can’t have any company.  I can’t die.  This is hell.

God

Xavier knew that if he went back there, HE would try to turn them into minions. Nevertheless he jumped on to his motorcycle with Jeff on the back. They both carried the same kind of gun. It was a converter gun, with a barrel on each end, to be held in either direction – single shot one direction, automatic fire if held in the other direction. It automatically sensed in which direction it was being held so that the user didn’t shoot him or her self.

Problem was they didn’t have much ammo and there would be many minions. It was going to be risky, but something compelled them to go back. It was like the irrational risk a person takes in a nightmare. They were going back home.

As they neared their destination, they agreed that Xavier would fire the shots and Jeff would hold the other converter gun in reserve. After all, they had to conserve their ammunition.

Suddenly, the minions ran towards them in a very large group. They were pretty ugly looking lizard-like creatures that walked on two legs. The shame was that they had once been human, before HE had got to them. They could tear a person apart with sharp teeth and claws.

Xavier began with single round fire, but there were too many of them and it was not very effective. He then turned the gun around and sprayed some automatic fire in their direction. The minions began to fall, but a lot of ammunition was wasted. There were many more minions too. It was hopeless. He and Jeff needed to keep some rounds to fire at HIM.

In the circumstances, Xavier decided that evasion was better than taking them head on. He zigzagged around the minions, pushing the bike to its limits. They were everywhere. He knocked them down, brushed them off and fired a few single rounds in more dangerous encounters. Just as he and Jeff thought that they had run out of luck, they were home.

It was unrecognizable. The place was filled with rocky streams. Why was there so much water? The minions had disappeared. HE would not be far from Xavier and Jeff. HE didn’t need the minions around him. Xavier and Jeff got off the bike and negotiated many narrow, wet corridors with their converter guns at the ready. Aside from the sound of the flowing streams, it was eerily quiet and it was dark and humid.

Then HE was in front of them. HE was moving towards them, a giant of a man. He grinned from cheek to cheek. He had wild, curly black hair and a goatee on his face. He looked very confident.

Xavier fired a few rounds at HIM, but to no effect. Who or what was HE? How could HE be killed? In his panic, Xavier turned the gun around and sprayed some automatic fire at HIM. It was no use. HE merely looked back amused. How could this be? Was it a bad dream?

HE disappeared. Xavier looked behind him. Jeff was gone. Xavier was alone. Jeff’s gun was on the ground. Xavier scooped it up and began to run back through the narrow corridors. It no longer looked like his home at all. Most strange was the water everywhere.

All of sudden a new minion appeared in front of him. It groaned in a very low pitch as it moved towards him. It threatened to tear him to shreds. Xavier guessed that it was Jeff. He didn’t know for sure. Did he have the heart to kill it? He knew that if he did, Jeff would be gone forever.

Jeff had been quite an overweight, short, balding man with glasses. The minion was tall and slim, but that meant nothing. It could all be part of the transformation.

Xavier fired one shot which kept the minion at a distance but did not kill it. Xavier ran away from the minion. Jeff or not, he couldn’t waste the ammo. He negotiated all of the streams, reached the front door and ran out of the house. He had an idea. Hopefully he was right.

There was something about the water. Xavier guessed that it may give HIM his power. Xavier rode the bike to a house nearby. Like all the other houses around it was deserted. He ran inside and searched for any liquid he could find – cleaners, perfumes and anything else that could possibly contain a poisonous substance. On the way back to his house he had eluded the minions again, but ammo was running very short. He was already using Jeff’s gun.

He was back at the house. Do it quickly. Empty all of those containers into the streams. Perhaps one of them would contain something that could poison HIM. HE would be there soon. The pressure was building.  Xavier kept looking back over his shoulder.

It didn’t seem to be working until he backtracked to parts of the house that he had previously contaminated. The streams there had run dry and were replaced by blackened mud, which dried quickly. HE appeared in front of Xavier as if from nowhere. It was clear that HE was not amused. HE was going to kill Xavier.

HE was clearly weak. Xavier fired shots at HIM and HE recoiled, but HE was still hard to kill. Xavier ran out of ammo. HE smiled again for the first time since the beginning of this latest encounter and moved towards Xavier. HE seemed to be unstoppable.

HE was getting closer. Xavier would have to do something. HE was right in front of Xavier now. HE was about to touch Xavier when Xavier smashed him in the torso with his empty converter gun. HE doubled over in pain. Xavier had some momentum. He hit HIM again and again. HIS face had disappeared. HE was only a torso now lying on the ground. Xavier had beaten most of the life out of HIM.