James Volume III

26 years old
Not Specified
from Oregon

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    • "A Start to Things" -- Part 6

      9 years ago


      The two women were arrested within the next hour, and by now, the sun was starting to fall in the sky, hiding behind the many skyscrapers of the world-city. I stood with Shohle as Magam escorted the two women to the scene, one officer taking the young child from Stoparkan so that he would not see his presumed father's dead body. Stoparkan looked both depressed and angry as she was led in cuffs to the body. Antson's face gave no hint of any emotion. They both looked at the body, though, with solemn eyes, Stoparkan's slightly tearing up. Shohle walked in front of the two women, both glaring at him.
      "Well, ladies, if I were stupid, I would have commended you for this."
      Antson was first. "For what? What did I do?" Stoparkan turned to glare at her.
      "You? You cheated, lying-" Magam nudged her in the back, barking out, "Quiet!"
      Shohle nodded to him, looking back at the ladies. "As I was saying, I would have commended you if I were stupid. But, unfortunately for you, I'm not. Though I will commend you at your methods to this. I admit, I was confused at the beginning, but soon was able to put the pieces together to form the great puzzle that branded you both murderers." Both women responded in unison.
      "I didn't kill anyone!"
      "Oh, but that you did. Allow me to give a recap of exactly what you two women did. Here you see the dead body of Mr. Zak Stoparkan, a young business entrepreneur working in the music agency industry. Last night, Mr. Stoparkan was on his way home from work when he received a call on his comlink. It was from a woman that was having the industry he interns at sponsor her. She called to request his assistance at her home. He had met with her before on business occasions, as he was one of three people that had been assigned to her as agents. They were to help her in securing her assets and maintaining her funds while she left the planet. His travels took him to the Fobosi District, and to the woman's penthouse room, where he found her particularly different, both in appearance and mood.
      "She had called him claiming to want to discuss her assets, but instead, he found her wearing a dress that was all-too clear for his liking. She attempted to seduce him, not only looking presentable, but literally throwing herself at him, wearing a very distinct perfume that comes from the planet Chandrila. The perfume is strong, and stuck to him. He retreated from her, saying their business was done for good. When he had reached a good two blocks from her home, he found his wife, enraged, who claimed he had been cheating on her. She too wore a perfume that Stoparkan had bought for her here in the Fobosi District. He attempted to convince her otherwise, but was interrupted by Antson, who arrived, still in her apparel, with ill intentions. She used a vibroblade given to her by her father to stab Stoparkan three times in the back.
      "The blade went straight through Stoparkan, looking almost as if he had been stabbed face-first. Two had gone through his ribs and came out his left breast, the third had gone only a few centimeters away from his spine, coming out his stomach and bursting several important organs within. Antson quickly retreated, throwing the blade into the nearby shrubbery. The now-widowed Jayne Stoparkan, still enraged with the suspected unfaithfulness of her spouse, leaned down to kneel next to her dying husband. She first held him close, misplacing a hair from her blonde head onto his shoulder. She then back away, him clutching the bleeding wounds on his chest. She smashed her fist into his face, sending him to the ground on his back. The loss of blood and head trauma caused him to fall into a state of comatose for maybe a few hours, and without proper life support, he died.
      "Now, in order to have deduced all of this, it required I look at the last locations Stoparkan had spent extensive time besides his own home. Stoparkan worked in a very clean industry, which made me question the messy knees and boots of his attire. In walking to the penthouse of Ms. Antson, I noticed a very large number of collected puddles that were brown with mud and other unpleasant liquids. I deduced that Stoparkan had charged through the puddles in his retreat from Ms. Antson's home, and in doing so, had slipped slightly into the mud. Stoparkan also had two scents of perfume on his corpse, meaning he had been near two women who wore strong perfumes. Upon entering the Stoparkan house, I noticed a bottle that contained a perfume bought here in Fobosi. Mrs. Stoparkan said Zak had purchased it for her. Arriving at the penthouse, I noticed not only a bottle of rare Chandrilan perfume, but also a tussled dress in the shady corner of the main room. Lastly, the blonde hair found on Stoparkan's shoulder no doubt came from the head of his widow. Once I had collected this evidence, the only thing left to do was see each womens' reaction to hearing Stoparkan had died. Both reactions were severely low in relation to most peoples' reactions to death. This tipped me off that both had been present at his death, though who had killed him remained a mystery.
      "After examining the body once more, I noticed that not only had he suffered from the stab wounds in his chest, he also had a bruise on his left temple. The positioning of his body signified that he could not have caused the bruise by falling on it, and thus meant someone had hit him. Since I knew Antson had been the one to use the blade, as the blade itself is engraved with her initials, and that she would have left after performing the deed, the only person left to attack Stoparkan was his wife, and she did. Everything else was simply deductive reasoning." The two women stared at him in horror. Magam noted their reactions, and grabbed their shoulders, leading them towards the police speeder. Shohle turned to me, smiling.
      "Shohle, that was truly magnificent. How were you able to sort all of that?"

    • "A Start to Things" -- Part 5

      9 years ago


      Sorry this is so late, computer's having some issues.


      I recall for a moment looking at him with surprise, but then allowing that surprise to give way to curiosity. He said no more, and offered no answers to my inquiries. We left the lift and, in yet another rush, headed back to the scene of the crime. Upon arrival, we discovered the area to be surrounded by news teams, with Lieutenant Magam standing in the center of a squad of police, all holding riot shields to keep the cameras away. We navigated our way through the bustling crowd before cutting through to the taped-off scene. Magam looked not angry, but disheveled, staring out at the flashing cameras and constantly-talking species, all hoping to get just a scrap of information to make a story. Shohle quickly returned to the body, picking up the vibroblade and spinning it around a few times in his hand. He smiled, turning to me.
      "Yes, this is indeed interesting, Waylen. Although I had had a suspicion that this had been what had happened, I didn't consider it was the truth. Yes, indeed..." he muttered, looking down at the body. He looked back up at me. "Waylen, I don't suppose you have any gloves with you?" I did. He quickly secured them over his hands, then leaned down, and, to my shock, flipped the body over abruptly. My shock quickly subsided when I saw three puncture wounds, two going through his upper-left rib cage, and one just missing his lower spine. His back was completely red with dried blood. I shook my head in disbelief.
      "Good lord. He was stabbed in the back?"
      "That he was. And with a very vicious blade, too," Shohle replied, lifting the blade. I hadn't realized just how long the blade was until now. It was nearly a foot long. No doubt Stoparkan had been stabbed in the back, and in result, the blade had gone clean through him. I closed my eyes slightly, thinking of the poor man's final moments prior to his death. I opened my eyes, looking to where Shohle had been. He now was next to Magam, whose eyes were growing wider with each word. He rushed over to the body, letting out a sigh.
      "I wish you'd told us of this sooner, Shohle," he said exasperatedly.
      "If I had known it earlier, Lieutenant, you can be certain I would have informed you."
      "I'm sure, Mr. Shohle. Where are you with your investigation?"
      Shohle smiled. "Actually, I'm done. Though I lack the authority required to apprehend the killers." Magam and I both rose our brows.
      "Killers?" Magam asked.
      "Yes, Lieutenant. Plural. I suppose you would be helpful in arresting both Mrs. Jayne Stoparkan and Ms. Ylime Antson," Shohle said, turning to view the body in silence. Magam looked to me for a sort of impractical confirmation, which I met with a shrug. Whatever Shohle knew was more than likely correct, and he had no doubt found more of interest in the two abodes of the women than I had. What he would later show to us all, no doubt blew my mind to wonderland. It was like watching a painter paint their best masterpiece. True magic.

    • "A Start to Things" -- Part 4

      9 years ago


      50th Journal Entry, btw.


      Both Shohle and I looked at her, myself with a bit of confusion. Shohle, of course, showed no sign of either confusion or humor, though I felt as if he had a bit of both at the time.
      "I'm sorry, 'her'?" he asked politely.
      "Her," she snarled. "That woman he keeps seeing."
      "Ma'am, you will have to elaborate. This may be vital to finding the killer of your husband."
      "Every time he goes to work, he takes extra time to go somewhere. He never tells me where, but I know. I know he's been seeing a woman. He comes home smelling like a woman, and I know my husband hasn't become a feminist. He's been meeting her." Shohle knelt down to look the woman in the eyes.
      "Are you certain of this, Mrs. Stoparkan?" She looked him in the eyes.
      "Please, call me Jayne. And yes, I'm certain. I know the days, too, because he always comes back happier than he was when he left for work, and he hates his job."
      Shohle nodded. "Do you know where this woman lives?" Jayne nodded.
      "I followed him one night, and saw him go there. I can give you her direct address."
      "Thank you, Mrs. Stoparkan, that would be very appreciated." Shohle stood, glancing next to the couch at a small, glass table. On the table rested an odd assortment of items, maybe a dozen in all. Shohle reached carefully and grabbed a bottle with his thumb and forefinger, holding it lightly. "Is this yours?"
      "Yes. Zak bought it for me a week ago, from a local vendor. I don't like the smell much." Shohle's eyes flashed slightly as he put the bottle down. He looked back at Jayne, giving another short bow.
      "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Stoparkan. If we require your services any more, I'll be sure to inform you." With that, Shohle turned, walking past me and out the door. I followed hurriedly, looking back to see Jayne watch us leave before shutting the door. The distinctive locking noise resonated from the other side of the sealed door. I turned back to Shohle, who was reading data from his 'pad.
      "Where to now?" He looked up at me, face stern.
      "Fobosi District. It seems our other woman was only two blocks away." On that note, we departed with speed to return to Fobosi, and before we knew it, we were once again at a doorstep. This was a different setting, though. The address had taken us to a more uptown home, what we believed to be a penthouse of sorts. We took a turbolift to the top floor before being admitted to a large viewpoint of the District. A woman, slender figure, black hair and dress, leaned against the railing, staring out at the lights. She didn't turn to see us walk in, nor to see Shohle quickly examine the room, eyes halting at only a few points. The penthouse main room was certainly more grandeur than the apartment had been. A large pool sat in the center, lined with black leathered seats. A bar was nested to the corner of the room, and an odd holotransmittor near the doorway. Shohle coughed, causing the woman to turn. I breathed in when she turned. She was fairly attractive.
      "Yes, gentlemen?" Her voice was soft, soothing, almost like a singer's.
      "Hello, Ms. Antson. We apologize for intruding on you today," Shohle's voice was cool, calm, and collected. I could tell he was about to fish for information, though I tilted my head in confusion when he addressed her by name.
      "I see you're familiar with me," she commented, sliding a hand down her leg. "Whose presence am I to be honored with?" Shohle gave his courteous bow.
      "Mr. Kormelec Shohle, at your service, madam. This is Dr. Joel Waylen," Shohle's introductions almost sounded stale. He was attempting to appease to this Ms. Antson's better side.
      "A pleasure to meet you both. Now, if I may ask, why have you come to my residence?" Shohle walked around the room slowly, eyes whisking from corner to corner.
      "Actually, Ms. Antson, we aren't here with good news. Are you familiar with a man named Zak Stoparkan?"
      Her eyes opened ever-so-slightly before readjusting. "I am familiar with him. Why would you be curious of as to that? Why is it not good news?"
      "Ms. Antson, Mr. Stoparkan was found murdered a few hours ago. We are unable to find the killer, but have been asking people he is associated with in hopes to find answers. I don't suppose you know what Mr. Stoparkan was doing last night, or this morning?" She shook her head.
      "Not the slightest idea, sir. I haven't left my home in nearly two days. Though I am upset to hear Zak is dead. He was a good man." Shohle eyed her carefully, once again scanning the room.
      "That he was." He looked down, sniffing. "Well, Ms. Antson, I believe that will be all. Thank you for your time." She looked perturbed by his words, but nodded, turning to again see the pale view. As Shohle and I took the lift back down, he nudged me. "Did you catch what I did?"
      "Unfortunately, no. What did you see?"
      Shohle smiled. "Everything I needed to."

    • "A Start to Things" -- Part 3

      9 years ago


      As I walked with Shohle, I learned something I would slowly learn to deal with: he was a quiet individual. He only spoke to point out something of interest. Elsewise, he was silent. And his silence was almost disturbing, when I had come from a fairly outspoken family. Nonetheless, we walked nearly a good mile before arriving at a transit station, where he called for a speeder to take us to Stoparkan's home. Along the ride, Shohle's true tact began to reveal itself.
      "You come from Eriadu, correct?" he asked at random. I stared at him with utter amazement. I told him my home was indeed Eriadu, then asked how he was able to know that. "Your speech was my first clue. You speak very intellectually, and your accent suggests that of someone ranging from more commerce-based sector of the Outer Rim. Your choice of clothing, despite being medical, also gave minor hints that you reigned from a more prosperous family. And, your last name, Waylen, is well-known across the Seswenna sector. Putting the pieces together, Doctor, is the only way to solve anything." I nodded at the correct points, and when he had finished, I sat, stunned. Here I was with a man capable of practically telling me my life when he had no knowledge of my persona. It was truly amazing. The speeder arrived at a small roadway that was lined with apartment buildings. Shohle exited quickly, myself following suit.
      He quickly made his way to the address listed on the card. It was, by appearances, small. The apartment complex in which Stoparkan had resided was nearly thirty stories tall, but only maybe twenty meters wide. The most these apartments could have was three rooms. Shohle quickly made his way to the nearest door numbered "213", rapping it with his knuckles. After a few moments, a woman answered the door, holding a toddler on her hip. She looked to be maybe twenty-three, with bright, blonde hair and an hourglass figure. Her hair, though straightened, had small tufts here and there, signs that she was stressed to her limits. Her clothes were a tad ragged, and the child's eyes were puffy and red, suggesting it had been crying prior to her opening the door. Shohle gave a curt bow to her, smiling with that glint in his eyes.
      "Hello, ma'am. This is the residence of Mr. Stoparkan, correct?" he asked. Her eyes twitched slightly.
      "It is. What can I help you with?"
      "Miss, I'm sorry to say Mr. Stoparkan was found murdered only hours ago," Shohle said with a tone that offered no condolences. The woman's eyes again twitched before her mouth dropped, the child looking up at her in confusion. She backed away, but I saw the tears forming under the lids. I almost ridiculed Shohle for his method of telling her this information when I realized what he was doing. In giving her this information so bluntly, he was testing her, I presumed. Her reaction would tell him whether she had had part in Stoparkan's death or not. By my assumption, she had taken the news hard. She walked slowly out of view, and to my surprise, Shohle followed her in, turning to give me a look that told me to come in as well. I entered hesitantly, gathering my bearings of the cramped apartment. It was small, as I had predicted. The entryway led to a living room, of sorts, that was only maybe three meters across. Four doors were accessible from this room, though all were closed. The room itself was messy. In one corner sat a reclining chair that was patched in three places. Across from it sat a HoloNet receiver, as well as a computer terminal. A scrawny couch rested opposite the recliner, against the wall that made a border between this apartment and the neighbor's. The woman sat on the couch silently, the child escaping her grasp and running through one of the doors into what, at a glance, appeared to be a kitchen. Shohle stood in front of her, his arms crossed. She attempted to speak, her words coming out in gasps.
      "I just di-didn't think something l-like this would ha-happen..."
      "I'm truly sorry, Mrs. Stoparkan. Losing someone is never easy, especially a significant other," Shohle replied softly, his arms adjusting to have his hands clasped behind his back. I observed silently, glancing from the woman to Shohle. "Now, ma'am, I must ask: do you know of anyone who would have ill intentions towards your husband?"
      She looked up at him, sniffling. "We-well, there is o-one person I can th-think of."
      "Oh? And who might that be?" Her nostrils flared.

    • "A Start to Things" -- Part 2

      9 years ago


      Shohle looked around, taking in the area. As he did, I did as well. The scene was relatively clean, considering it had been a murder. It was on a casual sidewalk that stretched maybe five meters across and extended to the transit station, coming from the administrative sections. The sidewalk was lined with trees that partially resembled bafforr trees from Ithor, though obviously weren't the same. Assorted shrubbery made the trunks of the trees invisible, and the shrubbery covered all empty ground besides the cement sidewalk. The blood from the body only created a radius of maybe a meter from the corpse, filling the cracks in the sidewalk. Police speeders blocked both ends of the sidewalk. Above, more speeders ensured no unauthorized traffic came through and tried anything nefarious. I looked down to examine the body, noting anything out of the ordinary. The boy had presumably been caught offguard, as his eyes had a sign of shock. His clothes were slightly ruffled, not including the stabbed areas. His boots were a bit dirty, and stains from what looked like a brown substance, possibly dirt, were visible on his knees. Besides this, I had a hard time believing Shohle would be able to solve anything from what he was given. Even so, his eyes glimmered as he observed the surrounding, a short smile appearing on his face. He looked at me again, still smiling.
      "Tell me, Doctor: what are you able to deduce from this, if anything?" I tilted my head at his question before collecting my thoughts.
      "Well, Mr. Shohle, I would suspect there hadn't been much of a struggle between him and the killer. His workplace is a business firm, which doesn't explain the stains on his legs. Same with his boots. He was either a fairly dirty fellow in stature, or was somewhere prior to being killed." Shohle nodded, blinking.
      "Very good, Doctor. Do you mind if I see his business card that you have there?" he asked, pointing at the card I held subconsciously between my fingers. I handed it to him, he taking it and smirking. "Yes, indeed." He pocketed the card, pulling a specialized glass from his sleeve. It was a magnifying glass, a tool I hadn't seen implemented in the examining of a crime scene before. He first examined the body, sniffing as he went. I couldn't help but think the smell wouldn't be pleasant, considering it was a body in the beginnings of decomposition. Nonetheless, he sniffed, and smirked. He reached out and took up something I couldn't see from the shoulders of the body. He stood up, still looking at whatever he held in his hand. "Doctor, if you please, could you lean down and tell me what you smell?" I did. The overwhelming smell of a body hit me first, but was followed by the faint trace of something that reminded me of a garden. I glanced up at Shohle.
      "Precisely. And not just one scent. If you focus, you can find two different traces of perfume. One has the distinct smell of flowers, a specific flower that is not found on Coruscant, nor any planet in the Core. The other has a touch of artificial scents, one that is sold here in the Fobosi District." He pulled out the card. "Doctor, when you saw his card, what was significant to you?"
      I examined the card. "His home and workplace are nowhere near the Fobosi District. This is quite the travel out from there."
      "Correct. Stoparkan was then not here for business, or on a casual walk home. He had other intentions," Shohle said, taking a small bag from his pocket and placing whatever was in his hand into the bag, sealing it. He patted my shoulder, looking to Magam. "Magam? If you don't mind, I'd like to take your doctor with me on a little search." Magam nodded absent-mindedly, keeping his attention on a growing group of newscasters just outside the perimeter.
      "If you don't mind my asking, Mr. Shohle, why do you request my presence?"
      "You seem to be the only person here capable of helping me. And, you make good company. Shall we?"

    • "A Start to Things" -- Part 1

      9 years ago


      So, here's the first part to my new series of short stories called "Star Wars: Dark Times." I'll release them as I complete them.

      When I first made his acquaintanceship, I had no idea what to expect of him. He was a person I'd only heard of through the law, and never bothered to take him into consideration beyond acknowledgment of existence. Yet despite my ignorance of him as a person, I never would have imagined that he was capable of everything that I slowly learned. What others did for payment, he did for enjoyment. What others did as a job, he did as a hobby. And what others did on an average level, he went above and beyond what was expected and made the others feel like fools. I can only bare to recollect our first encounter, when our paths crossed. I was the attending doctor at the scene of a murder in the Fobosi District, near the administrative building of the University of Coruscant. It was the first call I'd received while being on Coruscant, so I was of course nervous. I could not have possibly conceived the thought that my first call would be the first of many interesting and quirky mysteries that still echo in my memories. The murdered victim was a young man named Zak Stoparkan. I was Dr. Joel Waylen. And he, was Kormelec Shohle.

      I recall arriving at the scene around midday, when the sun was at its highest. Considering the University administrative grounds were open and elevated from the slums of Coruscant, and that it was a center of educational prosperity throughout the Inner Core, it was only expected that it receive such a glamorous location to teach the hopefuls of the galaxy. The sun was high and the scene was horrible. Coruscant Security Force was on the premises and had placed the entire grounds on lockdown. Nobody went in or out without clarification by the head Lieutenant, a man named Pike Magam. He was the one who had called for the closest doctor to examine the situation. It was also he who had called Shohle, though I did not meet him until after I had gotten a good look at the crime. The police had roped off an area in specific and covered a body, but neglected to clean the blood away that had visibly seeped out from underneath. With the permission of Magam, I had removed the tarp that covered young Stoparkan. He was young indeed, barely at twenty-five. His tunic was stained with blood, and three cuts were found, two in the breasts and one in the stomach. Puncture wounds were visible as well. The sighting of a body hadn't been reported until nearly two hours ago, so the boy's time of death was uncertain. CSF had found no items of identification except for a business card that featured his name, home, and picture. He had been an intern at a business here in the Fobosi District. Though only given little to work with, I was able to see and note that he died from loss of blood resulting from the three wounds, and that his time of death had occurred within the past twenty-four hours. It was then that Shohle arrived, and it was then that my mind was set to wonders.

      Shohle was, in all appearances, neat. His hair was brown and slicked to the side in an appropriate way. It wasn't too long nor too short. His attire consisted of a long, black overcoat that fell to just above his ankles, where black boots went the rest of the way. What was underneath the coat wasn't visible, though wasn't relevant. His eyes had a glimmer to them that almost put me into awe. It was as if his eyes, though just the same as everyone else's, could see double if not triple what we all could see. He arrived, quickly analyzed the scene, and turned to Magam with a look of enjoyment, and a hint of pleasure.
      "I'm impressed, Lieutenant. The first mistake any security force can make, is the cleaning or tampering of the scene. You've performed superbly by leaving everything as is, including the blood. And I'm sure our doctor here has given you the cause of death?" he stated, looking at me. I nodded, repeating what I had been able to accumulate. He nodded.
      "Excellent. Now I believe we can set to work learning who, what, where, when, and of course, why." Shohle set out to the body, running his eyes up and down the corpse before looking across the taped-off area. I looked to Magam, raising an eyebrow. He shrugged.
      "He's the best we know, and he's independent. We've offered to have him join CSF at least a dozen times, and he always says no. Says that it's better to do a hobby for enjoyment than money," he said, turning to answer a duo of officers' questions. I turned to see Shohle rummaging through the nearby bushes, an act that made me question whether CSF was in their right mind in calling this fellow. He rummaged for maybe a minute more before exclaiming, stepping from the shrubbery and unveiling a bloody vibroblade, deactivated. He brought it to me, placing it carefully next to the body.
      "Now, Doctor...?"
      "Waylen. Joel Waylen."
      "Kormelec Shohle. Do you have a blood scanner on hand?"
      "Of course."
      "Would you mind verifying that the blood on this blade is Stoparkan's?" I took my scanner, took a sample of the blood from the ground, then from the blade. They matched. "Excellent." I looked at him with a hint of amazement.
      "How did you know the blade was in the bushes?" He smiled, the glint in his eyes eclipsing his pupils.
      "The best thing to do when tracing the origins of a crime, is to place yourself in the mindset of a criminal. And with this one, the criminal's likelihood of being caught with a knife in a region of commerce was too high to risk. Disposing of it was easier. And thus is what they did."

    • Mental Stagnation No More

      9 years ago


      I have finally found a cure for my current mental stagnation, and it came to me because of the links between my boredom and that of Sherlock Holmes'.


      I posted this advertisement to my profile months ago, thinking I was going to actually start writing a series of short stories dating between Star Wars Episodes III and IV. I never got around to it. Now, I will.

      Star Wars: Dark Times will be based between Episodes III and IV, as stated, and will follow a detective on Coruscant(I haven't picked his name yet) and his assistant as they unravel civil mysteries found in all levels of the city-planet, from the slums to the citadels. The similarities in characters and their mentalities to that of Sherlock Holmes and James Watson, I will point out already, as those two are the main inspirations for these characters. The mysteries, though, will not be taken from any Holmes story, and will instead come straight from me. Unlike my novel, I will post these stories in segments here for people to see and comment upon. I'm looking forward to getting some feedback.

      Stay tuned!

    • I Need YOUR Help

      9 years ago


      So, it's become apparent to myself that, I'm very, very bored. This tends to happen whenever I finish a writing project: I get bored, become irritated by the world, blah blah blah. Basically, I'm needing to get started on another project before my irritable feeling starts to piss other people off. When I'm in this state, my attitude can be summed up by saying, "There is nothing of interest to me out there, on Earth, at all." So help me.

      I have two current ideas(I'm not going with my third just yet) and I don't know which to pick. Both can be developed if I set my mind to it, but I just am unable to choose which to do. So, below is a summary of what these two books are about. I want you to post which you would rather see developed. Thanks in advance!

      Story Option 1: Pre-Written

      Can you imagine, if one day, you read the Obituaries section of your local newspaper, and saw your name listed? Would you be even more shocked if it listed how you died, the time, place, and day? Would you be scared if you saw the day was today, the place was where you were, and the time was now?

      The town of Pond Springs, Nevada has had a recent spree of deaths. And it seems that the newspaper editors are always on top of getting the information out. But when young Jason Kames sees his name in the paper, listed as dead, and he just barely avoids being hit by a truck, he realizes something else is happening. It's a race against the man behind the words to find out who is killing off the people of Pond Springs, and how. Jason and his friend, Sam, embark on a perilous search to find answers. The search reveals a dark history to Pond Springs' history, and leads the two to question: Are these deaths all being performed as assassinations, or is something more paranormal occurring?

      Story Option 2: Cure

      In the year 2040, a small, unknown corporation approaches the United Nations with the words: "We have a cure for HIV." In a scramble of confusion, countries begin rallying to test every person on the Earth for HIV, and sending the positive people to be cured at a special facility designated by the corporation. Disputes rise between countries as some countries deny testing to its population, causing dissent from the larger countries that seek a cure.

      But despite the chance to rid one of the worst infections on the planet, some have doubts: Where did this corporation come from? Where did they receive the fundings to develop a supposed cure? Why is their facility on an island in the Pacific Ocean? And most specifically, what exactly is the cure? Time unravels to show that this cure, comes with a price.


      So, please, comment below and tell me which you'd rather see written. All input is very-much appreciated.

    • Dear Lord!

      9 years ago


      Rooster Teeth? Those episodes can be described with three words:


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