Seanday Extra: New Chicago pt2

Read Part One here

I have to admit, the custom face on the Soviet suit made him look no older than twenty-three. The tattoos only made the suit look more believable.

It made sense, if he was selling these suits, what better way to showcase them than wear one yourself--admittedly one that was fixed and wouldn't fry the occupant.

Danny followed us into the room, and dropped the rucksack to the floor. Menshikov circled him. "So this is an AI?"

"Yeah, young and tight; checkout its cute face and eyes." Menshikov reached up to Danny's face, but got his hand batted away. "Danny, standby." Jackson--my partner--was playing the part of the AI perfectly, with a sigh, he relaxed.

I could see he was just as interested in Danny. I needed to get him out of his own suit, it's not possible to open them from the outside without damaging them.

"You know I didn't think they made any this young."

"Well, officially they don't," I said lowering my voice. "These two came as a pair, father and son. They both have a complete history, real IDs." He looked at me blankly. "They used to be real, live people. I don't know what happened, but they're suits now. If I'm wearing the kid, then this suit's AI kicks in and he acts like the father." I glanced at Danny, I could see him smile for a split second. It was all lies, these were just two suits created from scratch.

Menshikov's shorts were tenting, maybe the kid was of more interest to him than the muscles I was wearing?

Caption This (11th Jun)

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Seanday Extra: New Chicago pt1

I'd been assigned a mission. I couldn't tell you by whom, that's confidential. But I can give you its parameters.

Search, infiltrate and destroy.

They're always the same three steps. They keep it simple, not because I'm dense, but because I'm damn good at my job and I don't need to be told.

It was in New Chicago, it changes every time I have the misfortune to visit. They tell me it used to be a beautiful place, maybe so, but after the accident at the end of the last century I couldn't say there was much proof.

What happened? All I know is that one mother fucking hell hole opened and swallowed the whole city; people, cars, buildings and every last stinking cockroach. There were lots of conspiracy theories, terrorism mainly, but I have my own theories. Needless to say was what built in its place was far from a utopia.

With a city like New Chicago, as it is, comes the low-life scum that I have to clean up. Those that have taken advantage of the situation, gone further than the authorities can tolerate.

So my assignment, Rick Menshikov; a dealer in body-suits. He specialised in ex-military--mainly Soviet Sector, so heavy build, but none of your pretty boys. You see the city has become a place for people to hide. It was dangerous as hell, so Menshikov sold suits. It means you could hide, and protect yourself. But there'd been problems, the suits were faulty. They were turning up at morgues with their occupants fried.

The solution you may think would be simple, take out Menshikov and stop the supply. Wrong! Although he's a powerful man in the district, his supplier would just push in another direction. They didn't care their suits were killing people, meant there'd be no creeps bitching about the two week charging cycle. That's why I'd proposed to take down their whole framework. My superiors knew better than argue with me, and signed off the mission plus expenses.

Caption This (4th Jun)

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Caption This (28th May)

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Caption This (21st May)

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Phantom Rider

On a dark desert highway, no cool wind in my hair thanks to my helmet, I could see him in my mirrors, a nightmare in black leather and helmet. I had no idea who he was or why he would be so persistently trailing me along a desolate road in the middle of nowhere but he had been with me for as long as I could remember. If I went faster, he would as well, his black bike glowing eerily. Who was this guy?

I came upon a roadside diner. The neon lettering in front flashed a bright “OPEN”, casting shadows on the forsaken parking lot. I smoothed the creases from my white leathers as I dismounted my matching ride after pulling into a spot near the door. Good chance to stretch my legs as I cautiously peered over my shoulder for any sign of my pursuer, hoping against hope that it had been just by chance that he had been behind me. I breathed a sigh of relief; no sign of him.

After entering the diner, I made my way to one of the booths. My body shook as the stress of the ride finally hit me. For some unknown reason that black rider bothered me. There was something unearthly about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. As much as I told myself everything was fine, that no one had actually been following me, the more my mind dwelled on that phantom and wouldn’t let go.

Seanday Shorts: Better Red, than Black

It showed no remorse after discarding its last victim, it oozed out of the construction workers mouth, a viscous slime so dark no light escaped its surface. As the last of the substance vacated its host, the shell of the once powerful man crumbled into dust leaving only a pile of dirty, oily work clothes that reeked of hard work.

The slime was a hunter, but not of this world. It would capture, and consume, disguising itself as its victim. It would live the hosts life undetected until it felt the hunger again, then it would reap another.

He was a big man--the construction worker, a veritable feast, it could easily stayed within the workers husk for another few months, but his life and routine was mundane. Although it didn't need to feed, it wanted stimulation.

Darkness of the evening shrouded the ooze as it headed for the nearest house. Keeping to the shadows it discovered a side door and slipped inside. It recognised it as a kitchen, and slithered up a wall to a higher vantage point. There were noises from elsewhere in the house--a tv, voices.

The slime migrated to the ceiling, adhering easily to its surface. Below the door opened and someone walked in, a teenager. The creature studied it for a moment; possibly 5'6", a small stature, but he had a stocky strong build. This would normally be rejected by the slime as he was far too small to provide any long-term sustenance, but it's previous meal will be sufficient to last more than a few months.

Caption This (14th May)

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A Faerie Tale

The day had been warm, perfect for working on my computer outside. The birds were singing in the trees and the squirrels were chasing each other on and off the porch as I sat there. A sudden movement caught my attention but I paid no heed, figuring it was just one of the hummingbirds coming to the feeder. I went back to my work, only to see movement again. When I looked up there was a very handsome young man standing on my porch. The quintessential jock, he stood somewhat over 6’ tall with blonde hair, tanned skin and a well-toned muscular physique: a glistening Adonis surrounded by a golden aura.

“Who are you and how did you get here?” There was no way onto the porch other than through the doors and no one had come through those. I was attuned to anything that might lead to trouble, a sense that had been heightened by my childhood bullies, and my radar was going off like crazy.

Seanday Delivery: Man in a Trunk

I'd only just started working for this agency. It was deep cover, when I mean deep, I mean deep, deep. In fact it was so deep, you'd need a seal-suit just to breath! But that's the aquatics team, damn I'm glad to be out of that one.

So what's so secret? Well, you see my job now is to pretended to be other people--not animals. Its sort of a promotion, I guess.

But I'm digressing. Just like the aquatics team, it's undercover work. I used to follow subs, warships and shit like that. At the start of an assignment, I'd squeeze into something appropriate for the mission. Usually dolphins or seals because they're agile, and I didn't have to worry about being seen when I was in a suit. The guys on the vessels that saw me just thought I was cute, or lucky. I wasn't complaining.

I'm not sure how they worked, I mean I'm 5"7' and toned, you know? I'm guessing the suits used to be real at one time, then they did something to them--I don't know; don't want to know, but I was able to get inside. They'd end up incredibly stretchy, the smallest thing I'd been was an otter, so you can imagine how weird I looked--5'7" guy wearing a stretchy otter skin. Anyway, I had to drink some juice which changed me to fit the skin--you know, small for an otter, or bigger if need. It was cool, I could think like the animal, breath underwater and stuff. After the mission was done, they got me to drink something else and I stretch out again, and climb out.

Damn, where is that delivery? Anyway, while I'm waiting let me tell you about my new job--kinda exciting.

Caption This (7th May)

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