Each Tuesday, rather than a POSSIBLY IRRITATING ESSAY, I'd like to both
challenge you and lend a helping hand. I generate more speculative and teen
story ideas than I can ever use. My family rolls its collective eyes when I
say, "Hang on a second! I just have to write down this idea..." Here,
I'll include the initial inspiration (quote, website, podcast, etc) and then a
thought or two that came to mind. These will simply be seeds -- plant, nurture,
fertilize, chemically treat, irradiate, test or stress them as you see fit. I
only ask if you let me know if anything comes of them.
I KNOW I just did a horror idea, but in honor of the “season”, HERE’S
ANOTHER!
H Trope: (reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transmutation. I think I’m
going to mine THIS idea in various ways for a while!), more specifically
covered here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Underworld_(1985_film)
Current Event: http://altimatrix.com/2012-and-your-dna
(Truth? I can’t imagine that ANY person would actually believe this. Really.)
Let’s focus on this little tidbit: “According to what the dowsing reveals, there will be 6-9 DNA upgrades for
these people before our critical juncture in the photon belt. Their ascension
will take place at the same time as other people, however they will have more
advanced evolutionary changes initially. In the meantime these people’s
subtle energy bodies will be exposed to even higher frequencies of
consciousness than the average person. This will be possible due to the
individual’s higher self, having the option to do this. Once the first 3
DNA upgrades are complete, the connection to the higher self is so much less
corroded that the higher self can do this type of work for individual chosen
for such a role.”
Snorri Benediktsson
and Hofi Flosadóttir are going to college in Bemidji, Minnesota – they’re
Icelandic exchange students.
He wants to be a radio producer and is going for a mass
media degree; she’s a future physicist studying high energy particles that
enter Earth’s atmosphere through the North Pole.
Late one night, they’re working together in the physics
lab, he’s fiddling with making an electronic file and playing with special
effects.
Hofi said, “Komdu
og líta á þetta!”
He sighed. He hated when she used Icelandic. “We’re in
the United States. We need to speak English.”
“Ekki allir hér
tala ensku.”
“I know that. My roommate speaks better Spanish than he
speaks English,” said Snorri.
“Mine is fluent in Ojibwe, but she speaks English most of
the time. She does use her native language when she chants at night,” said
Hofi.
“But we’re supposed to be experiencing a different
culture.”
“So why are we dating each other? Shouldn’t you be going
out with a ravishing latina?”
“And you should be hanging out with some fratboy who only
wants you for your body and has no idea you’ve got a brain that’s as sharp as
the curves are beautiful.”
Hofi blushed and
turned back to the window in the lab that looked north, out over Lake Bemidji
and toward the frigid air of the pole. A particle collector floated in the
atmosphere some hundred miles north and twenty miles up, the display near the
window was connected to the college through a satellite uplink. She pointed at
the rippling patterns in the sky.
“That’s what I wanted you to look at.”
For a moment,
even Snorri couldn’t ignore the display. When he finally worked up the nerve to
put his arm around her, she turned away. “All right. This has all been done
before. Electrons, ionized gasses and the lot has been done to death.”
“What’s that
supposed to mean?”
“I’m going to do
something no one has ever done before.”
Scowling, he
walked over to her humming machine. A small box, open on the side facing them,
emitted an odd, pulsing sound. He said, “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to
really collect particles from the aurora. I’m using one of the new particle
transporters from England to move some of the particles directly from the upper
atmosphere to here.”
“Is that safe? I
mean, I know I’m not a physics whiz like you, but I do know that high energy
particles – like UV light – can burn human skin.”
She shrugged.
“Sure. But there are other particles up there. That’s what I’m trying to
measure. That’s what I want to find – the other particles up there.” She waited
a moment and then said, “Stand back.” She flipped a switch. The box sparked and
she fell back, covering her facing a screaming. An intensely pink colored,
gaseous substance flowed from the box, coalescing on the floor around where
Hofi was writhing on the floor.
Snorri dropped
to his knees, hands grabbing her shoulders and coming into contact with the
pink, amoeboid gas. For a moment he froze, then the cloud began to crawl up his
arms. Both of the Icelanders shivered but otherwise didn’t move.
Instead, their
skin began to crawl.
Literally…
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