#model w

It seems the good doctor got a bit too enthralled in her Model W research after finding a Mysterious Rock in the nearby Area N

(Two) Teaser(s) for an upcoming story

It was a strange day. A day when he actually went outside. He still held his laptop, and was always typing away at his algorithms. Wondering why humans were so inconsistent. He paused in the middle of a keytap. He glanced back, looking at thick foliage in the park. There was a fence. He closed his laptop, confused. It was like something was... calling. He folded the laptop, and put it into his bag. He looked at the fence, and the brambles beyond.

He reached for the fence, splinters setting in his hand. He sucked in a breath, but still climbed overtop. Thorns scratched at his hands and ankles, and low-lying branches slapped into his face. The ground started becoming swampy, pulling in his legs. His shoe fell into the muck. He winced, feeling the dirty swamp water soaking his socks.

"Why am I even doing this?" he whispered, staring up at the scarce sunlight overhead.

'It's because you are a Chosen One.' He started upon hearing the voice. He stared into the woods. Something pulsed in the deepest and blackest part of the thicket. 'That's it. Come a little closer.' He inched forward, moving feet through the increasing swamp. Bugs were starting to bother him. Some stung, some bit. But he waded further into the water. It was above his knees, and the sunlight was almost completely blocked out. Something pulsed in the water's depths.

He braced himself, and plunged his hand into the swamp. Slimy things slithered by, and bits of things he didn't even want to think of their source soaked into his sleeve. His fingers rested on a piece of metal. He grasped it, and pulled it out slowly. The glow was obscured by the muck, and a strange pair of eyes stared out from under its coat.

'There we are. I've been waiting for a Chosen One like you. One that can remake the world.' the metal said. He stared.

"Remake the world?" he whispered. The metal glowed.

'Yes. I'll give you the power to remake it, however you want.' it said. He took in a breath.

"However I want." He pressed the metal to his sweater, and nodded. "Yes... That sounds nice." he whispered. His gaze went unfocused, and the barest edge of red started filling his eyes. "What's your name?" he said, voice dull and monotone.

The Evil Lives On...