'Dear Online Journal-beta 1542-file Wednesdays,
Today is the anniversary of my Mother leaving me with my Father. It is hard to believe it has been twelve years since my Mom left me. Happy Abandonment Day. My latest project has been unusually successful. The blast glove has been a great success. I have not had the ability to test it yet, due to the lack of a proper shooting area. The blast should after the calculations are done be able to shot straight through the hull of a space shuttle. Or be able to penetrate a ship's deck and travel down to its lower regions resulting in the sinking of said ship. I have been work on this relatively alien technology for about a year now and have cracked many major secrets in its field. My next experiment is called the H.O.R.S.E. Human operated Robotic Suit, Extensions. A robotic suit unlike that of the super hero Iron Man, (his tech, still amazes me.) And more like a super suit of armor. That is controlled by the helmet called the M.P.O.U Mind powered operator unit. The idea for said suit is the so called robotic aliens that running about. I personally believe these to be government experiments that are highly unstable, and control with a flawed program called S.P.B. S. W, Self powered Battle Strategy Weaponry. A secret government project to eliminate the use of human fighters. It seems that the current situation is that some of the "Weapons" are unable to be shut down. Without causing havoc. I have found a piece of an unusual metal. I have it in a lead container since under dark light it seems to emit a weird aura. After watching the news and reviewing several different websites it is clear that these "aliens" are run by the military and are covered up with the least believable stories.
On a more personal note. My Father has started drinking again. Hurray! During his most recent … episode, he came at me with a knife. He ended up giving me a nasty cut on my arm. I cleaned it up myself of course. Thank goodness for online medical guides. I have moved Blink's bed into my room to keep him out of my Dad's way. I think he'd kill Blink if he ever tripped over him in a state of drunken madness…'
A gurgle was heard in the bedroom speaker by the door. The usual yell of a drunken Father that has no respect nor want for the child he helped create.
"Take out the Goddamn Dog, Cynthia!" called the stumbling yell.
A young red haired adult sighed, and saved her work on the computer. She would return to it later. She climbed up into her room and out of her lab and covered the entrance with her favorite white shag rug. She slid across her hard wood floor and unlocked the door to the restroom. She wandered through the shining pearl and coral colored bathroom and into the main hall of the apartment in which she lived. She had been out in the open for a moment and a leash was thrown at her the metal hook hitting hard against her temple.
"Take outhe fuckingdog." Mumbled a lump on the living room couch that was mesmerized by a teenage girl stripping on the T.V.
"Okay, Dad." Whispered the slender Irish red haired girl as she hooked up her Great Dane, Blink to a leash.
"Don't talk to me bitch, just go." Growled the thing on the couch.
With that Cynthia was out the door, with Blink. She walked him to the elevator and slowly rode down. After making her way to the lobby she exited out the back door, towards an abandoned Warehouse. It was only a few minutes later, after Blink did his business all hell broke loose.
Blink's collar broke…
"Blink! Blink!" Cynthia yelped as she heard the snap of leather. Before she could think she was after the fastest dog she had ever seen. He ran straight into the warehouse.
'Damn it!' Cynthia kicked up her speed by flipping off her flip flops. The sun heated pavement stung her feet as she chased after Blink, but she made it to the warehouse.
"Blink! Where are you boy?" Called Cindy from the entrance of the warehouse. She felt cold air coming from inside. She wandered in and made her way over to the stairs she saw. She figured she could get a better look from above. She pulled out her key chain that had a small light on it. She turned it on and began her search.
"What is this place?" Cynthia said in a soft voice. She followed her flash light from a jet fighter, an F-22 Raptor no less, to a tank, to a Sikorsky MH-53 Pave Low Helicopter, to a police car, to a mysterious vehicle. She reached the stairs and quickly made her way up them nearly tripping, 'That could have been bad.'
"Do these, not work. Or something?" Cindy looked around as she reached the landing and spotted Blink in the corner of the large room sniffing at a black paint can.
'He is okay.' Cindy thought thankfully. She descended the stairs.
"Blink, hey boy." Blink turned and growled. Cindy took a step back, she was startled by Blink's reaction he never barked or growled at her. He ran out of the building his tall in-between his legs. He climbed up the fire escape and sat at her balcony.
'At least he is safe. Now, to check out this building.' Cindy slipped by the police car noticing a unique little symbol on the front. She shrugged it off as customization. She wandered by the tank and helicopter. They were both military style, she knew the tech. She wandered by the Jet, it was real. Cindy felt inclined to touch but, kept her hands to herself.
Cindy approached the mysterious vehicle. It had spiked treads, and looked as it was some sort of tank. A really advance tank but, a tank none the less. She walked around to the front of it to inspect. She verified it was a tank. She put her had on the side of tread. She heard a noise.
Cindy quickly turned to the rest of the room that she had passed. The vehicles were all facing her now. She was scared. Was there someone in there with her? Cynthia backed up and found that the tank tread right behind her. She turned to the tank and sighed.
"My mind must be playing tricks on me. Those were probably already facing that way and I didn't even notice." Cynthia said walking to the side of the unusual tank and running her hand along the side, following the contours of the metal.
"This is such a nicely made tank. It is absolutely gorgeous. Listen to me, I am a freak. I spend too much time in my lab. If I think this tank is good looking."
"I wonder why all these vehicles are here. I mean they all look like they are new." Cynthia said to herself.
Cynthia climbed back up the stairs and sat down. She turned off her flashlight and sat in the darkness with the machines bellow.
"Cynthia, your life is fucked up. Your Mom left you with your Dad when you were six. Your Dad told you the day after she left that he hated to you. You've been living with the illiterate asshole for twelve years now. He hates you, abuses you, and refuses to admit that he helped create you." She paused, "I guess it is not that bad. I get all the privacy I could ever want. I have a job as a singer in a small band, I have my own little robotics laboratory and have made advancements that could rival the invention of sliced bread. You have a Great Dane. And you live next to a warehouse full of vehicles and machines. If robots were real, they'd be able take over the world. Wow, listen to me talking to myself, I need friends. But, back to my rambling… Well, I guess I can be thankful; robots that humans make are only able to rank a negative infinity. Most people are stupid. Really stupid. Jumping off buildings, bridges, out of cars, out of airplanes, swimming with sharks, going hiking in the woods were wolves, bears, or big cats live," Cynthia stopped and sighed, "Why couldn't I have been born a shark or something. I would spend my life killing people. Stupid people. Rip them in half with MY TEETH then swim away. Throw them out like the trash. Deleting them like and ex's phone number from your contact list."
Cynthia laid back on the ramp that she was sitting on.
Grinding gears, rotating, scraping metal, the sound of a machine moving. Cynthia sat up. And looked down the F-22 was right below her.
It made a low rumbling noise like it was speaking an alien tongue.
"What you don't like people either? Man, I wish I could be you. I wouldn't have to deal with humans. I'd flip them out the cockpit then fly off. Then laugh as they free fall to earth. " Cindy said.
The Jet returned another low high rumble and seemed to be talking to her.
"I must be nuts. I am talking to a jet. Might as well. You have a name?" Cynthia asked.
That was the biggest mistake Cynthia had made up to that point…
A few seconds after she asked the question the whole room broke into a clanking, rotating, shifting, transforming cacophony of sound. The jet now stood in front of her. Standing at least thirty feet tall, next to a robot even taller. Cindy turned to behind her and noticed three more large robots.
Cynthia stood up and prepared for the most interesting conversation she would probably ever have.