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Running Scared

This Page written by: Brian Kay

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Mironova screamed.

The wind was an anguished, beastly howl, but Mironova's high-pitched shriek pierced the tumultuous air like a sonic knife. Byron Joseph stood silently, the wind raking his impassive features, his sandy brown hair was close cropped, the wind massaged his scalp with an almost sensuous ferocity.

"Jesus ChristJesusChrist………"

"Shut up Glenn. I don't think God can hear you through this din." Byron cocked his head skyward. "Well, maybe he can, we sure as hell are high enough."

Byron Joseph smiled at Mironova.

Mironova screamed even louder.


He didn't quite remember how he made it to the lift, but his neck ached and Mr. Calm-as-could-be Joseph was flexing the fingers of his right hand. Glenn Mironova slumped down onto the floor of the lift as the doors slid shut. The silence was deafening, but welcomed. Byron Joseph smoothed his hair and straightened his jacket, as if he just emerged from the men's lavatory. Mironova looked up at Joseph and immediately wished he hadn't. Byron Joseph's eyes were the palest blue, but now the looked transparent, like glass beads, like doll's eyes. Lifeless.

"How the hell can you be so calm, you bastard? Michael Lee, our colleague, our friend, just leapt off the Goddamned building? He said he was a replicant for Christ sake." Mironova shook his head, unable to grasp what just happened moments before. He looked into Michael Lee's eyes and saw the despair, the anguish reflected back at him in those brilliant pieces of obsidian.

"We all go a little mad sometime." Joseph deadpanned.

Mironova's face flushed red with anger and he rose quickly from the floor, his mouth twisted in a fit of rage, but Joseph cut him off before he could speak.

"Look, Glenn. Lee was a genetic engineer, he wrote code for twelve hours a day, plus how many untold man hours doing research, lab work, ok? The pressure got to him, maybe his personal life was going down the shitter and he snapped. Happens all the time." Mironova shook his head. "Bullshit, Byron. I've worked with Lee for seven years, seven fucking years. No way he'd just snap." Byron Joseph remained emotionless. He fished into the pocket of his jacket and produced a syn-cig and offered one to Mironova.

Mironova shook his head and Joseph popped it into his mouth. He lit it and spoke, exhaling a plume of bluish smoke that smelled vaguely of spearmint. "The reason why I am so calm is because I smoked about five of these bad boys. Moodies, they are called. Helps you focus. Today's mood enhancement is Stoic. Helps ya' get through the bad shit." Joseph smiled and continued, "Glenn, my friend, things are happening, big things, strange things. Get your head out of your ass and think beyond genetic code, for once. We are on the threshold of the great abyss of the unknown. This is the fucking Tyrell corporation and it is a living, breathing, dark presence in our lives and it touches everybody, every-fucking-body. It sure as hell touched Michael Lee."

Glenn Mironova didn't say a word. The lift came to a soft halt. The doors opened and Byron Joseph walked out. Mironova stood motionless, so many questions, so little answers. He mourned for his friend, Michael Lee, replicant or not. He grimaced at the thought of his broken body, pummelled by the building and its various antennae arrays. He could hear Joseph talking to the security staff, informing them of Lee's apparent suicide. The security officer was nodding grimly and telling Joseph that they discovered a body impaled on satellite antennae array. Joseph knew more than he was telling and that cut him through him like a white-hot knife. We were all friends, he thought, but friendship was like a flickering candle light, swallowed up by the great abyss that was the Tyrell Corporation.



Option 1 - Eyes

Pages in white continue the story. Pages in yellow are yet to be written. Note that the unwritten options are just suggestions for how the story might continue - you can add something completely different if you like.

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Date: 2002-05-19 21:45