Posted in Original Fiction, Writing Advice

M.A.L.C.O.L.M Chapter 7

<=Chapter 6                                                                          Chapter 8  =>


Next day

Olivia was exhausted, Addison, the scatter brain, had “forgotten” about all of their five meetings (more like avoided in favor of some unknown project.) and Olivia had to scurry about finding the prototypes that need to be tested. Olivia was pretty sure Ezra would have helped get Addison if he hadn’t gotten an inordinate amount of pleasure watching someone else struggle to control Addison.

Not only did she have to, scurry about all day searching about for prototypes while also making time for her own duties, she then had to deal with the annoyed co-workers, wondering why she was late, hence her exhaustion.

Also, about an hour ago the electricity had gone out because of Addison’s experiment which had yet to turn on, which frustrated Olivia since she was sitting in the dark with a candle no bigger then her hand trying to organize her files on todays tests.

Her body ached, she made the terrible decision of wearing a beautiful pair of heels that pinched uncomfortably in her toes, and her hair tie had broken on her randomly in the middle of the day. The poor tie, too abused to hold out a moment longer, had snapped and all her hair had come tumbling down in the middle of a meeting, said hair tie smacking an older gentleman in the face.

With a muted groan, she stretched her arms stretching high above her head, it was days like these she wondered why she hadn’t gotten a normal job at a normal company. Then she thought about how mind-numbing that would be and recovered quickly. Her dad has always told her “Find a job you love, doing something you can be proud of, because life is short, money is temporary, and you have a life to live, don’t waste it.” A faint smile flickered around her lips at the memory and her fingers brushed against the pendant on her wrist. The bracelet jangled when she reached forward intent on returning to work.

“Tiring day, Miss Moore?” M.A.L.C.O.L.M’s voice asked sounding closer then she would have expected and her heart started beating quicker.

“Oh M.A.L.C.O.L.M, yeah it has been. I am so glad you’re back on. I was really sad when I heard Addison had turned you off for her experiment.” Olivia heard a distinct creak but continued on ignoring it. “How about you M.A.L.C.O.L.M how has your day been?”

“Delightful.”

“Really why?” She heard a shuffled step, and her documents slipped from numb fingers. “M.A.L.C.O.L.M,” she whispered, heart beating painfully loud in her throat. “Is there someone behind me?”

“Yes.”

Olivia froze, features twisted into those of horror. Everyone had gone home, except herself and Ezra, and she could see the light on Ezra’s office down the hall. If she screamed Ezra was bound to hear, and call the cops, Olivia might be killed but Ezra would surely make it. Thousands of other horrible, traumatizing scenarios flashed through her mind as Olivia turned around slowly, hands clenched into fists, preparing for the worst, she considered grabbing her pepper spray. As soon as she caught a glimpse of the figure she jumped into action launching out of her chair and using the momentum to jab him under the chin with her palm.

Despite how perfectly executed the move was the result was abysmal. The intruder remained quite unaffected and Olivia was pretty positive she had just shattered her wrist on the impact. Apparently her self defense classes had been a bust.

Clutching her throbbing wrist she scurried back, moving quickly to place her desk between herself and the stranger.

“Miss Moore! Are you okay?” he asked worried, taking a cautious step forward, features twisted into these of concern.

“I am fine,” she growled, hand fumbling about on her desk, she grabbed the first thing her hand came in contact with, which thankfully ended up being her stapler, instead of say, her pad of post-it notes. She raised her weapon threateningly, grateful for her bare-feet, they would lead to a hasty escape. She took a few stumbling steps back hand outstretched so she didn’t bump into a a table. “Who the hell are you?”

The man rose his large hands in a placating manner, face incredible neutral. She narrowed her eyes peering closely at him. Something about him was off, but it was hard to place. He towered over her, definitely over 6 foot, she was thinking 6’ 3’ but that was an estimate. His blonde hair was short and scruffy, mussed about his head in a delightful manner. His eyes stared at her with a strange intensity that glowed in the darkness, an electric blue color. He had strong very defined features and he was so perfect it almost looked like he had been made. Michelangelo would have been jealous. His skin was creamy white and he was extremely clean shaven, his checks baby smooth, not even the shadow of a beard. He had what looked like lean defined muscles but it was hard to tell under the loose shirt he wore. He was broad shouldered and narrow waisted, and Olivia had the strong urge to discover how she would fit in his arms, and then blushed bright red at the inappropriateness of her thoughts. Lusting after a stranger Olivia, a weird stranger who could possible be here to murder her, her mind shrugged she was a women he was an attractive man the thought had practically created itself.

She couldn’t help but feel something about him was oddly familiar. A ghost of a memory, not exactly his looks but his mannerisms…his voice.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” his eyes wandered over her checking for injuries, lingering on her bare toes, face still that same neutral mask. She wasn’t sure if she should dive for her pepper spray or fall for the harmless act. She so wished to fall for the harmless act.

“I’m Malcolm” he finally responded, once he was positive she was alright. Olivia blinked a few times and shook her head. The pepper spray strategy was starting to sound like a good idea.

“I am sorry, could you repeat yourself I think my punch may have jarred your brain.”

“It’s me Miss Moore. Addison made me a body.” Olivia stared at him for a few moments and was trying to decided whether to faint or hug him. She would have liked to faint but it didn’t seem to be happening.

“Would you elaborate?” she said swallowing her shock down, trying to be rational. This was Addison it was entirely possible she could invent a robot that looked exactly like a freaking human! and now she was hyperventilating.

“Here sit down, you look pale,”

She complied, settling heavily, on the edge of a table knocking over a pile of files. She was to unsettled to notice. “Addison…wh…but…bod…” She snapped her mouth shut, simply staring at him in wonder.

“If you give me a moment I will explain.” Her head bobbed, eyes blinking quickly. “Addison and myself thought it would be useful to have a human body to do stuff in while also being connected to the tower, I could do everything I used to and more now.”

“Do you have any proof you are a robot and not a person who sounds just like M.A.L.C.O.L.M?” Olivia muttered, glaring at him suspiciously, trying to somehow rationalize the situation in her mind.

M.A.L.C.O.L.M smiled warmly at her. “That seems a bit far fetched, Miss Moore,”

“Says the robot.”

He humored her turning so the left side of his head was in view and tugged on his collar revealing a small pattern of glowing blue circles and lines.

“My charger.” he said pointing to it, where it glowed brighter and then dimer, definitely not a tattoo.

“Guessing a regular phone charger won’t work?”

He nodded his head no. ”and since Addison’s the Addison we all know and love, look what she put here,” he said stalking around her desk, closing the distance between them in a matter of moments. Olivia focused on her breathing. He leaned closer so she could see that behind his ear was a bar code with the words Lockwood Industries above it. It was a jab a t Ms. Donovan while also being a claim of ownership.

“Wow. So you’re telling me…Addison Lockwood, created a new, completely high tech robot that looked exactly human just so she wouldn’t have to leave her bed in the morning as early?”

“She’s done more for less.” he said smiling, not actually answering, but appeasing her all the same. Oh god, Olivia’s knees felt weak, she never thought she’d actually see M.A.L.C.O.L.M smiling, way sexier than she would have thought possible.


<=Chapter 6                                                                          Chapter 8  =>

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Posted in Writing Advice, Writing Problem

(Fictional) Murder With Purpose

You stare ahead blankly in utter and complete disbelief, your friend is dead. Murdered right before your very eyes. How will you ever recover from this? I mean sure they’re fictional, but they were your best friend.

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All the deaths in a George R.R. Martin book
There are many considerations that must go into killing a character, and deciding whether or not a character will receive the death penalty is never easy. I am by no means an expert, I am however a reader and as a reader I have been gifted a bit of insight into the world of character murder. I know when it works…and when it doesn’t. There are many reasons you might care about this topic at all, the two main ones are: secretly you’ve always dreamed of writing a novel, and now you will have been initiated into the depths of murdering characters, or two you just read a great book and your favorite character just died, now you will understand the level of thought and emotion that went into the authors decision, unless it was George R.R. Martin, he just killed the sucker cause he could.

To keep things simple you should consider two main things: motivation and emotional impact.

Continue reading “(Fictional) Murder With Purpose”