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   Chapter 7 No.7

The Inscrutable Mr. Robot By CSeanMcGee Characters: 8935

Updated: 2018-02-26 12:01

While the flames were being fought, The Reporter crept round the back of The Engineer's cottage to a rickety old shed at the far end of his garden. Its door was padlocked but its hinges were as weak as a drunkard's will and with little effort, both she and The Cameraman were inside.

"What the hell is this?"

It looked like a shrine of some sorts; a montage of obsessive devotion.

"Shut up and start recording."

The Cameraman put aside his disgust and fear and counted her in.

"We're live from…."

The Reporter's words were cut short by her own stupid wonder. "What the hell is this place?" she thought as she spun in dizzying circles. The walls and the ceiling were covered entirely with photos and news clippings. Some of them were recent while others looked as old as the cottage itself.

"It's like the inside of someone's head, " she said, still spinning in quaint little circles. "Like a serial killer or some scorned and vengeful lover. On one hand, I'm scared to look, " she said, "and on another, I don't dare look away."

"It's like swimming in the open sea, " said The Cameraman.

He pointed his camera at the wooden slats below his feet.

"What do you think's down there?" he said.

He sounded petrified and horrified as if he knew that beneath his feet were centipedes and zombies and alien flesh-eating bacteria; that, or at the very least, the bones and teeth of a dozen orphaned children.

"These people aren't dead, " said The Reporter.

Her mood changed quickly. She went from article to article with curious wonder, but that curiosity teetered on the brink of the very worst kind of horror.

"They're all accolades of some sort."

She went one by one trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

"It's so random too. If this is a serial killer, I don't see any pattern here. Look at this, " she said, pulling The Cameraman by his shirt.

It was an article from a local paper of a town she had never heard of. A young child had come third in a spelling bee and looked primed for states and nationals. His teacher, smiling in the background, was circled in red pen.

"And this one, " she said, pointing to an interview with an elderly couple who had found love in their nineties.

And then another.

"Look at this, " she said. "I know this person. Where do I know her from?"

Her eyes were unmistakable. She had no idea who the woman was; her face was as strange as any other. Looking at her eyes, though, she felt nostalgic as if she had caught sight of a good friend or an old foe.

"You'd better see this, " said The Cameraman.

The Reporter could hardly pull away. There was something about those eyes.


no pattern; no obvious link.

"Why you?" he said, turning to his colleague.

The Reporter clutched the I.D in her hand.

"I told you this was gonna be big, " she said, almost sounding as if she wasn't scared to bloody death. "Nobody believed me."

She almost sounded like her old self.

"We gotta get out of here, " said The Cameraman. "If the cops catch us here…"

He was already half out the door before The Reporter cut him off.

"We're here to tell a story, right?"

There was no arguing with her.

"So… let's tell it. Start recording."

It was funny, how, for The Reporter, a red light meant go.

"I'm coming to you live from what appears to be the headquarters or strategy room of what looks to be the greatest terrorist threat that has ever presented itself. This room is filled with what looks like targets or hits as the mafia might say. We're on the premises of the engineer, responsible for the manufacture of The Singularity. It warms me, only just, to say this; but I think we may just be in time to save the world."

The Cameraman moved like a tear down a cheek. There were so many faces, and from all walks of life too. There were teachers and lawyers, actors and athletes, and there were mothers and first responders too. There were the young and the old; and with them, every race, religion, and creed that ever was.

"Now what?" asked The Cameraman.

Never in her life had she ever been both so scared and at the same time so desperate to find out the truth. She felt, for the first time, as if her life actually mattered.

"I wanna see where they took him."

"And what?"

"We follow The Doctor."

"Are you mad? You know where he's taking him, right?"

"The University, " she said smiling; a crazed and worrying kind of smile.

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