Savior

@echo off
type title.txt |more
type SavPre.txt |more
type Sav1-0.txt |more
type Sav1-1.txt |more
type Sav1-2.txt |more
type Sav1-3.txt |more
echo human: Hello!
echo TIKI GOD: FAREWELL MORTAL
echo human: why are you so intrusive to us?
echo TIKI GOD: becasue the elder gods have willed it so.
echo human: do you always please the elder gods?

 

That’s the “type.bat” file that I apparently made back in the early 90’s to load several files to tell a story that I had written.  I have no memory of where I was going with this and if I remember correctly it was more of a test to see if I could write something more than an actual attempt to write something with an ending.

 

Here’s the various files that were included, it obviously ends with Save1-3.txt, the rest of the echos there were just to text echoing in a bat environment.

 

I need to be emphatic about this, I was about 12 or 13 when I wrote this, and I’m only putting it up here so I can delete it off of a 3.5 floppy I found it on without feeling guilty.

 

 

 

ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ»
º Savior º
º A Computer novel º
º By Adam Selvidge º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ

ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
Earth is being saved
we just don’t know from what…
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ

ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ»
º Prelude º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ

The sun shone in on the small room. There was nothing very
outstanding about this particular room. It only had a door and a single
window. The afternoon sun illuminated the only furniture in the room. It was
a small bed that was currently occupied. Upon closer observation the man
seemed to wink out of sight for an instant every few moments. After about
three hours of this the man seemed to stabilize and started to wake up.
He rolled over moaning as he sat up in the bed. He didn’t open his
eyes until his feet hit the floor. His eyes flew open as the feeling of a
cold floor hit him.

He was alive.

ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ»
º Chapter 1 º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ

Frank Schmidt had been working at the Plaza Hotel for over fifty
years, ever since the last world war back in the late forties. He had
filled just about every position in the Hotel and he was the door man when
the small hotel across the street had been built and he had been the door
man when it was shut down. He had been the door man for the last ten years,
and had seen everything that he could have possibly imagined.
He had also developed the skill of spotting possible trouble makers,
and when he saw the man stumble out of the old abandoned building he thought
immmediatly to himself, “There’s another one, just like last night with that
drunk that I had to call the police on.” When the man started for the Plaza,
Frank hit a small buzzer next to the door he spoke for several seconds, then
resumed his post. Frank started to be able to make the man out better as he
walked towards him. He was about six foot tall and but had a large build so
he looked larger. The most noticeable aspect of the man was the acute lack
of clothing. He was wearing a pair of longer then usual shorts, other then
that he wore nothing. He stepped up to Frank and looked him in the eye for
a full minute. After Frank had grown weary of this he asked the man,”What do
ya what? Can I get you a cab? or do you need help?”
The stationary figure looked up and into Franks eyes. Frank noticed
something about the man’s eyes. They seemed out of focus, then Frank gasped.
They were changing colors!!! At first they looked a light sky blue, but as
the old doorman watched they changed to a deep red. He put his hand out,
reaching for they man’s shoulder, saying “Hey are you…” as his fingers
brushed the shoulders, he felt the hair on the back of his neck go on end.
He made full contact and man’s eyes started to discharge radiant energy. As
the first mist if energy floated from the motionless face Frank took a step
back, pulling away from the oddity’s form. Panicked, Frank grabbed the door
from behind him. As his fingers made contact he felt a sharp pain on his
forehead. He was dead before he hit the ground with a smolding hole burnt
right through his skull.

ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ»
º Chapter 2 º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ

The sun had started to hide behind some fierce looking clouds that
the weather man had obviously forgotten to tell the population about, and the
sky proceeded to fall open with a slight drizzle. John Ohman was on his way
to work when the rain started. As the first drips fell he thought to
himself, {Great another night of moody rain.}

He had been in the office for just a few moments when the police
captain came over to his desk. He had a disturbing look on his face. John
knew what that look meant, and after being on the force for over twenty years
he knew what it would probably be. A case that would maybe never be solved,
but as a hope in the slightest chance that it might, it would have to be
investigated.
As the police captain neared the small corner where Ohman’s desk was
John spoke, “Hey there Matt. what’s wrong this time, no lunch?”
“Afraid not, John. There was a murder down at the Plaza Hotel
tonight.”
John’s hopes rose hoping that it would be a simple murder case, open
shut. But the captain’s next words shattered that hope.
“The victim was the doorman on the side entrance. He was found
laying on his back. He was killed with a single shot through the head. And
here’s the kicker….The wound was catarized completely. Forensics say that
it could have been done with a high power laser, but the power needed would
black out the entire state.” As the captain said this he pulled an envelope
from his jacket. He opened it and took out some photographs. He handed them
to John.
“These are of the victim, his name was Frank Schmidt, and the
surrounding area. There was no cameras or any other photos of the
crime.”John looked through the photographs, which dipicted the body lying in
the original position, the body in the morgue, and the of the damage to the building.
“My god, the shot went right through the head?” The captain nodded,
“Like I said most probably a laser of some sort.”
“O.K. I’ll go down and see what I can do.” Ohman picked up his jacket
and walked out the front door.

The street lights had just started to turn on as Detective Ohman
neared the Plaza Hotel. He parked his car in an abandoned parking lot. He
stepped out of his car and looked up at the Plaza Hotel. It stood thirty
stories and had three entrances, a north, a south, and an east. Frank Schmit
had been the doorman for the east entrance which was the only entrance not on
a major road. During a period of growth there had been a
smaller hotel constructed across the street. It was five floors high and had
started to decay. Having this decaying building right in front of the doors,
the director of the Plaza moved all incoming people to the other two sides,
and had made the small road that ran in front of the east entrance a service
road, only to be used for mail, laundry, and other pick ups or deliveries.
Ohman turned around and started for the crime scene. There were
several police officers still there. Ohman crossed the street and ducked
under the crime scene tape. He looked around and recognized the officer that
was posted to keep people away from the area, which wasn’t a very hard task
as there was apparently no one around.
“How’s it going?” Ohman asked as he approached the officer. The man
offered his hand, “Well now that I’ve got this crummy assignment, it’s just
great”, as he said this Ohman could just hear the sarcasm dripping from his
voice.
“Hey you coulda gotten night shift downtown, ya know. So what’s the
story?” Ohman asked as he shook the extended hand.
“Well it seems like a simple homicide except for the mode of death.
And as for any possible motive, everyone we’ve interviewed said that Mr.
Schmidt was a very likable person and got along with everybody.”
“So there’s no obvious suspects?”
“None at all.” Ohman went over to where there was a chalk outline of
where the body had fallen. He looked at the way the body would have laid,
then looked over at the silent building across the street.
“Has anyone checked out that derilict building across the street?”
The officer thought for a moment, and stated, “Judging from how long
they were in there it wasn’t a very detailed search. When they came back
they said that they had only ran into a couple of hobos, but no one that
looked like they could have done this.”
“I see, well thanks for the info, I’ll just take a look around myself.”
Ohman approched the Plaza building and looked at the wall by the door.
He noticed a burn mark about where the doorman’s head would have been. Their
were two holes about the size of quarters in the wall. Frank walked up to them,
studiying them closely.
{The shot left two holes? The photos only had one one the deceased… maybe
two weapons focused on his forehead? Looks like they were shot directly through his head, so
it wasn’t at an angle.} Ohman thought as he studied the mark. He turned and
saw a man staring at him from the building across the street.
Ohman motioned to the short man to come over to him. The man shook
his head. Ohman approched the stocky person.
“Did you see what happened here?” Ohman asked as he neared the man.
“Yea, I think I did…..but……”
“But what,” Ohman asked persistently.
“Well, even though I haven’t touched a bottle in over a week I could
have sworn that there was this man that had lights comin out of his eyes….
……He shot these beams out and sckewerd the doorman dead center on the head.
Ohman laughed, but when he saw how serious the man was he stopped.
“What’s your name, fella?” Ohman implored.
“I go by the name of Short Fuse. And if I hear one crack about “what
a short fuse I must be”, I’ll show ya what the marines taught me back in ‘Nam.”
“No fear of that.” Ohman sensed that this was no ordinary man. He
seemed to have at least a little common sense, and wasn’t like the other
hobos, some who were just barely scraps of humanity. He seemed to have a
cool head, but also seemed slightly off base. “So you say that this guy just
walked up and shot the doorguard with beams that were projected from his eyes?
If you don’t mind I’m going to be sceptical about that.”
“Well you can be, but wouldn’t you like to meet him first, before you
discount my story? I mean I didn’t believe it at first, but I saw him go back
into his little hidy-hole, and I haven’t seen him leave, so I’m thinkin’ that
he’s still in there brooding, or what ever he was doing before he killed that
guy out of nowhere.”
Ohman thought for a second, then replied,”I think that I better get
somebackup before I go in there.” He spun on his heel and walked back over to
his car. After he had talked to the dispatcher and been told there was a
detail from the S.W.A.T. team on its way, he walked back over to Short Fuse
and sat down on a box that was by the entrance of the alleyway that Short had
called him into to talk. He saw the darkly painted S.W.A.T. vehicle turn the
corner and stood glancing over at the motionless man who had apparently fallen
asleep. Ohman reached down to awaken him. He touched him and Short’s eye
flew open. He looked around and noticed the truck that was now sitting in
front of the Plaza.
He stood and turned to Ohman as the police officers jumped out of the
modified ice cream truck. “My God, think you have enough? A couple of guys
with handguns woulda done the job.”
Ohman glanced at Short Fuse, then back at the men. There was twelve
of them in all. Everyone had the special police issue Glock handpistols, and
had 12 gauge pump shotguns strapped to their backs, this is in the exception
of four of them, which carried long-range 22mm sniper rifles. These four
immediatly left the main group and started for their prearranged positions.
The other eight also carried semi-automatic uzies as part of their arsenal.
Ohman went over to the S.W.A.T. commander. “Ya know I only asked for
minimal backup for a possible search and arrest mission, right?”
The commander looked at him and smiled, “Well it was a slow night so
I figured it was a good time as ever to train for worse situations.”
Ohman frowned and said, “Well here’s the story, the man we’re looking
for has a large build, about six foot, and may be armed. You can lead them
in if you want to, but the guy over knows where he’s hiding, so we’re gonna
be behind him until we get to his place.”
“O.K.” The commander turned and motioned for his men to some closer.
He spoke to them for a minute and looked at Ohman, “We’re ready now.”
Ohman touched Short Fuse’s shoulder, “Your sure you know where he at
right?”
Instead of speaking Short just turned and walked toward the old
delapitated building. He got the the front door and turned and motioned to
the S.W.A.T. team to follow. They all strapped their uzies to their sides and
drew their Glocks. As they entered the building Short Fuse motioned
to the stairs, “Their the only way of getting up to the top floor, which is
where he is. His room was over looked when the other couple guys looked
through because of the lack of stairs leading up all the way. They fell
apart a couple years ago, but were replace with a make shift stair case in
one of the abandoned rooms that had a hole in the ceiling. That’s the way
we’re going.”
The team rushed up the stairs as fast, but also as quietly, as they
could. They reaches the fourth floor and as Short Fuse had warned the stairs
had fallen apart, preventing and further ascent in the direction. Short
opened the access door opening to the fourth floor beyond. He walked pass a
few doors, and opened one on the right side of the hallway. The team followed
him into the dark, damp room. Short led the gorup into a room towards the back
of the old apartment room, the S.W.A.T. team turned their flash
lights and proceeded after him. Short Fuse stopped in front of a pile of
wooden boards and boxes. He motioned upwards, and whispered, “His room is
just to the left of the opening. It’s the only one that actually has a door
on the frame.”
The S.W.A.T. team commander looked at his men and holstered his Glock.
He silently spoke, unslinging his uzi, pointing his finger at four of his men,
“You four take out your shotguns, you others use the uzies, and
everybody, lock and load. Remember that we only brought three clips each for
the semi’s, two for the Glock’s and twenty shells for the 12 guages, so if
we do get into anything ugly nobody use to much ammo at once. Everybody
remeber how we got in?” He looked at every person as they nodded.
“O.k. let’s go”

ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ»
º Chapter 3 º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ

The rain hit the window softly as the man sat on the bed. He had his eyes closed,
and was breathing slowly. His shoulders were set back against the wall, right next to the
window, and he was facing the door. His eyes flew open, looking at the door, then at the
floor of the room, searching the floor… for… something. He didn’t know what. He felt
his body ripple with power. His shoulders started to shake, and he started to go into
convultions, falling off the bed, hitting the floor face first…

The team of police officers had just started up the make-shift ladder when the world
started to exploded around them. Two bright beams of light were chewing up the roof above them
and the floor below them. Three of the S.W.A.T. team members made it up the ladder, just when
the beams moved towards the group. Frank charged up the ladder, followed by Short Fuse. They
jumped up onto the floor above, and looked back down into the charnage below. The remaining five
men were being cut up by the lights. Frank started to go back down to try to do …something,
but Short grabbed him from behind, and said, “They’re aready gone. Come on, let find this guy.”
Frank looked back at the small man, moving away from the room below, where the beams were just
stopping. Short looked around the small room they had jumped into, and motioned toward a door
close by. The four men with the heavy weapons moved to the sides of the door, and Frank touched
one of the men on the shoulder, moving his hand for one of his weapons. The man unstrapped the
shotgun from his back. handing it to Frank. Short looked on, with a look in his eyes that said
he wanted one too. Frank shook his head, and whispered, “You need to get back, thanks for the
help so far.” Short frowned and turned on his heel, moving into the small room they had just
come from.
As Short entered the small room, he looked over at the dead police officers that were laying on the ground. He reached over, picking up a weapon…
Frank nodded to the officer across the doorway, who promptly put his foot into the door, knocking it off it’s hinges. Frank rolled into the room with half his team, while being covered by the other half. He sighted the man on the floor, prepared for anything.
The man was crying on the floor, slowing rocking from side to side, holding himself in a fetal postion. Frank stood up, moving slowly toward the man. He reached inside his coat, grabbing a pair of handcuffs, which he quickly threw onto the now motionless man.

Leave a Reply