We first saw him near Short Street, limping along. He looked a bit lost. Maybe he was waiting for someone, it's never easy to be sure. But he'd obviously sprained a foot, and a wound like that needs to be treated before it has a chance to become serious. So we shot him with the tranquilliser gun, and carefully took his limp form to the van.
Upon closer examination, and after going through his pockets on the way to the shelter, it became obvious that he was some kind of office worker. An accountant of some kind, we were able to confirm. We put him in one of the cages back at the depot, and waited for him to wake up.
Upon first awakening, he became agitated. Naturally, he was surprised at the change in environment, and wanted to explore. He made it quite clear that he wanted us to let him out of the wire cage, but we obviously couldn't do so. It's a shame to see them cooped up in there, unable to move or turn, but it is for their own good.
He would shout at us when we were in the room, but it was obvious that he was becoming used to his situation, as when we were out of the room he would just stay perfectly still and make quiet sobbing noises. The time had come to treat his injury, before it was too late for him to readjust to his natural environment. He became violent when we approached the cage, so we administered a general anaesthetic. After thrashing about for a while, he slept. We took him from the cage, and put a bandage on his hurt foot. That would be enough to ensure it healed up. Afterwards he would surely be capable of getting rid of the bandage. We felt it would be good to chart his progress once he was free, so we implanted a tracking device into the back of his skull, while he was still anaesthetised.
We had all grown fairly attached to him, but it would be inhumane to keep an accountant away from his numbers for too long, so we tied him up and drove him to the road in front of an office block where accounting takes place. If this was not his block, he would surely be accepted into the pack anyway. We could tell he was desperate to leave, so we removed the gag and untied his ropes, and he ran rather awkwardly into the building, making a quiet screaming sound. He didn't look back. We left, happy in the knowledge that a life had been saved.
We have since heard from the accountant's solicitor. He plans to send us to court for assault and kidnap. We think it's a shame that so many of them react in this way.
Delusional lecturer
Warhol said that everyone would have their fifteen minutes of fame. And my claim to fame is that I discovered a new life form.
It was the fifth of April, 1997. I had just finished giving a lecture on how isotopes affect bond lengths and enthalpies. As I cleared away my equipment, I happened to look into the microscope, and I saw them. There were twelve of them initially. As I watched them, I realised that they were changing colour. They were going through all the colours of the spectrum, like a rainbow. It must have been quite mesmerising, as although I thought I had only been watching for a short while, when I looked at the clock it was 3:15 am. And there were thirteen of them. I soon realised that they were multiplying at an arithmetic rate, increasing by one every day, which is quite unheard of. But I would say that what makes them really unique as a species is that only I can see them.
After observing them for about a week - there were twenty organisms - I called in Dr Basingstoke, who is a colleague of mine, to take a look. I explained my findings to him, and invited him to look in the microscope. He told me he couldn't see anything. After hearing my theory, that they are only visible to me, he left. I later learned that he had reported the event to my immediate superior. When there were thirty organisms in the culture, I was visited by the Vice-chancellor and two of the senior professors of the Faculty of Science. They had a chat with me, and I told them of my intentions to reveal my findings to the Royal Society. They didn't react as I had hoped. I was told that I could keep my post at the University, but that if I attempted to publish my discovery then I would be immediately dismissed. They then left, refusing to discuss the matter further.
I was somewhat upset by this turn of events, and I think this was reflected in my lectures. I noticed a drop in attendance, and the students who showed up would spend the time watching me with a mixture of amusement and pity, or reading. I spent my spare time observing the culture. There were now two hundred and fifty organisms. I can't remember whether I was sleeping at this time, but I remember feeling that they were my only true friends.
When there were three hundred organisms, I made a decision to confront Dr Basingstoke. I collared him in the corridor near the café, and asked him whether he had heard any news about the Vice-chancellor changing his mind. He told me he didn't think it was likely. Refusing to drop the matter, I asked him why such a significant scientific discovery had been surpressed. He suddenly became agitated, and shouted at me. He said that he had recommended the decision to the Vice-chancellor, on the grounds that I was obviously mentally unstable. He said that the students all knew that I was crazy, and I was giving the faculty a bad image. He told me to stop spending my time in the laboratory, claiming it would be for my own good. He then stormed off, unless it was me that stormed off. It probably doesn't make a difference.
Lately I've noticed a pattern in the culture. There are a thousand and seventy five organisms, and they seem to be forming words. The first word was "KILL." Now the word "DR" has emerged. I think they're making a letter B at the moment.
Cyber marriage
My name is Thomas Fenwick, but a lot of people know me by another name altogether. I've been on the internet more or less since its inception. I have my own website, and I use email on a regular basis. A lot of the people I communicate with I only know through the internet. They know me as tombo32, which is the name I use in chatrooms and in my email address. Amongst the people who know me like this are my good friends reddevil1, _HARVEY, madMAXX, and then of course there's kAtHy, who is my wife.
We met in 1994, in an all-purpose chatroom. It was called #theclub, if I remember correctly. We got to talking, and exchanged email addresses. Then we were in regular correspondence on almost a daily basis. We got on really well. I thought about her a lot. Of course, this was never to the exclusion of real life. I have a job to keep up, so I can only go on the internet in the evenings. At the time, kAtHy was unemployed, so she was available for chat pretty much all of the time. The relationship developed, and eventually we reached the point where we decided we wanted to get married.
It happened on the 15th June, 1995. I was very excited about it, and I stayed up extra late, while kAtHy of course got up very early. The service took place in #wedding, which we set up specially for the occasion. We were married by somebody called vic666, who did a terrific job. Everyone was there, apart from _HARVEY, who had to work late, but I emailed him a transcript of the chat session. Anyway, we exchanged vows, and I sent kAtHy a rather nice animgif of a rotating diamond ring. Everyone agreed that it was a very beautiful occasion.
I would say that our relationship is as strong as ever. I was recently promoted, and kAtHy now has a job as a designer. This means we can't spend as much time together, since we're both working quite long hours. We still email one another, though. It's really great, I'm really very happy. We've never actually met, of course. It'd be a bit awkward, really, since we live in different timezones, and anyway, neither of us knows what the other looks like. We did initially consider setting up some kind of webcam thing, or perhaps getting scanners, so that we could at least see one another. But we agreed in the end that it's probably for the best if we just leave it, since it'd only spoil the illusion.
Abusive teacher
Teaching brings a great responsibility. As a teacher, I am responsible for developing human beings. I am answerable for their education. And if they do badly, it means I've done badly. So I endeavour to make it quite clear that even the smallest mistake is intolerable. Even spelling mistakes, or grammar, pronunciation.. you can't call any of it insignificant. Because if the will to succeed isn't there, then you might as well give up where you are.
Put simply, the moment a student makes a mistake, I will come down on them like a ton of bricks. I ridicule their work, and in more extreme cases their personalities, in front of the rest of the class. As a teacher, you're always aware of any of your pupils' character flaws, certainly if you pay attention. So I always know exactly where to strike. It's not unusual for one of my pupils to leave the classroom in tears, but it has to be done. They either suffer now, or they suffer later. I have to be cruel to be kind, or else they'll turn out failures.
Now, on one particular occasion I was teaching my higher year ten group. It was a couple of months into the year, and some of them hadn't yet been on the receiving end of my criticism. They'd heard the stories, though, and they knew to work hard and watch their step. However, in this particular instance, Amy Berkford - quite a short and overweight girl - was unable to tell me what military restrictions had been imposed on Germany by the Treaty of Versailles. Rote-learning is not fun, but it is very necessary. So I really lay into Amy, because I wanted to ensure that she would remember her mistake, and never make it again. I remember insulting her physical appearance as well as her study habits. I told her it was no wonder she couldn't get a boyfriend. The girl was obviously eating too much. At the end of it all, she just walked out. There were no tears; she just walked out in a sort of daze, looking a little unsteady.
When I learned that she had taken her own life, I was initially surprised, but that quickly gave way to anger. At no stage had anybody told me that the girl suffered psychological and emotional disturbance. Of course, as it was pointed out at the time, this information was all in her permanent record, and would have been easy to find out. But that simply isn't the point. Somebody should have gone out of their way to tell me. I'm a very busy person, and the amount of marking I have to do every night is horrendous. I can't do everything. Nobody's perfect. And the way I see it, my teaching methods have consistently yielded the highest proportion of A to C grades, with only one fatality. Most of them don't really have the guts. I'm not the one at fault here.
Bitter student
The first computer I had was an old Spectrum, when I was about eight. I got into programming from an early age. They used to publish source codes in magazines, and you'd type them in and be able to play a little boulderdash game, or hangman or something. I wasn't really interested in playing the game, though. I used it to learn how to program. As I grew up, and the computing world changed around me, I progressed through the different systems - I had an Atari, and then an Apple machine, which I later ditched in favour of a PC - and I learned the different programming languages as they came out. I'm now a proficient programmer in almost all of the major languages. My ambition has always been to become head of my own software company, but I plan to start off working for another company, perhaps IBM.
When I was choosing GCSE courses at the age of fourteen, I naturally went for IT. I was a natural at all aspects of the syllabus, simply because I'd had so much experience in all of them. The teacher, Mr Redgrave, said that I was one of the best students he'd ever taught. I came out at the end of the course with an A*. I had good grades in most of my other subjects, too, although the arts grades were a little disappointing - more in the line of C's and D's. I had applied to a few of the local sixth forms and colleges, and secured a place easily. The subjects I had chosen for A-level were IT, electronics and physics, since these are all useful for programming. As I progressed through the courses, I found that physics had become the most difficult. I had done perfectly all right at GCSE, but the increase in the level of ability required had taken it slightly out of reach. I found I was no longer enjoying the course. A lesser person would have given up, but I had a lot of time for physics, merely because I was doing so well in my other two subjects. I devoted myself to doing well in physics, and it worked. I got A's and B's in the exams. By the end of the two years, I had secured myself good grades in all three subjects.
I'm currently studying at Leicester university. I started my MSc a year ago now. A lot of people were surprised that I hadn't chosen IT, but the truth is that IT is not as useful as you might expect for programming, as it focuses more on the use of software than the creation of it. It's more a degree for people wanting to do high-level numerical or administrative work. Electronics, conversely, is more for those who want to create the computers themselves, doing work with circuit boards and the like. But the fact still remains that physics is a good subject for programming. And if that means that I have to spend five years on a subject I now despise, so be it.
Alternative medicine
Dennis Ward. I'm a general practitioner. I'm responsible for about a third of the people in this area of the city. In the past, I've always been very scathing of alternative medicine. Herbal remedies and the like. My attitude was always, well, leave it to the mystics, you know, those New Age types and druids. But with the dawning of the new millennium, I've had an epiphany of sorts. I've now realised that all ailments known to man are, in fact, caused by demons. So now, when I've got a patient in, what I do is I exorcise the afflicted part of the body.
I'm currently campaigning to have this adopted as standard practice for all GP's, and preferably in hospitals too. It makes things a lot simpler when you can get rid of all the conventional medicines and remedies in favour of the old bell, book and candle. It's also a lot cheaper. I wrote a scientific report on the subject, although I've yet to hear back about that yet.
Abortion, I think, is a very thorny issue. It always will be. But again, I think that if it can be proved that the foetus in question is a demon, and inherently evil, then there should be no problem with exorcising that too. I'm also currently looking into how this treatment will help with cancer research. If it turns out that malignant growths are demons, as I suspect to be the case, then they should be no more trouble than any other illness.
I am considering moving to practise in the USA. I think people will find it easier to accept my discoveries there.
Modern marriage
Julia and I got on really well from the start. Now we've reached thepoint where you don't really need to talk much. Everything's been said. We're content to sit in silence for most of the time, except when she asks me to change the channel, or switch on the heating, or wear a different shirt.
She can be a tease. Always playing hard to get... well, all the time. I don't blame her, really. She's under a lot of stress. After all, the house doesn't just look after itself. And she has to keep up with events. Always on the phone to her friends. Racking up the bill... I often wonder what they talk about, but she never tells me. Julia can be very secretive. One time I came in and she swiftly hung up the phone. Asked her who it was and she just said it was nobody.
We can't spend too much time together. I work a lot of overtime now, to keep up with bills. Saturdays, too. We seem to spend quite a lot. Of course, Julia would get a job if she could, but she needs to stay at home. The place is in a bit of a state as it is, so just imagine if she wasn't there to keep it ticking over. Of course it's worth it. I'm well looked after. Always plenty of microwave meals in the freezer when she goes out on Sundays.
Sundays are Julia's time. She likes to get out of the house, leave her normal self behind. No need for her cardigan or her ring. I'm content to sit at home and watch TV. I watch a lot of detective programmes.
Amazing how easy it is to kill someone and have nobody else suspect a thing.