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Sunday, March 8, 2026

Enigmatic Fantasies - The Engima of the Woman from Lochmere Lane

Story Hub: [link
The Return of a character from this story: [link]

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            The Multinational Aligned Specialist Task Force (MAST) was certainly a place to be, not the best, not the worst, but certainly the most unique. At least, that’s what they told you when you were assigned there. They hired and managed all people and events that no one else could, or wanted to, deal with. MAST hired people from all walks of life, but, despite the name, not necessarily all over the world. It’s not that they wouldn’t hire people from all over. It’s that they didn’t really have much of a choice in who they hired. They’d get ex-law enforcement, professors, scientists, artists, teachers, grocery store baggers, and even soccer moms. Again, it wasn’t their choice who they got, whoever joined was whoever became involved in their special activities.

            “Pollyanna Smith?” The clerk read the young woman’s freshly made, yet already beginning to peel, ID. The MAST HQ’s reception office had certainly seen better days. The dusty room looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 80s or maybe even the 70s. It was blatantly obvious that not a penny had been spent on updating or maintaining the office in over a decade, outside of rudimentary cleaning. The reception desk had visible cracks in its faux-mahogany woodgrain, the waiting chairs squeaked and squealed as if they were days away from collapse, and the reading material on offer was a musty stack of issues of a TIME magazine knockoff from the early 90s.

            “That’s my name,” the blonde beamed, “I studied five years of experimental and natural sciences at—”

            “No need to go into your spiel, this isn’t an interview,” the clerk shook his head. “What matters is that you had an encounter last year. An unusual one?”

            “Well, yes,” Pollyanna tried to hide her disappointment, “I still don’t know what that old man wanted, but—”

            “Old man is right, but what’s important is you survi…navigated that encounter successfully without outside aid. That’s why you’re here,” the clerk explained. “And with your science background, the Colonel wants you working upstairs in Lab A with…her.”

            “Her?” Pollyanna cocked her head.

            “Well, someone has to,” the clerk handed her a letter. “Here’s your marching orders from the Colonel. Hand them to Dr. Vermillion upstairs in Lab A.”

            “Alright,” Pollyanna accepted the letter. “So, since the boss is a Colonel, is this place military?”

            “Not really,” the clerk shrugged.

            “Shouldn’t I go through an orientation, sign paperwork, and all that?” Pollyanna asked.

            “We’ll wait till after you meet Dr. Vermillion for that,” the clerk looked aside.

            “Okay,” Pollyanna knew she wasn’t the most perceptive person in the world, but even she was getting a bad vibe. Not in the sense she was in danger, more that she was walking into a disaster of a situation. Wouldn’t be the first time someone dumped her with the assignment no one else wanted.

            Navigating the building did nothing to improve Pollyanna’s impression of it. The further she went, the more outdated and poorly maintained it appeared. Offices with doors jammed open, closets with doors jammed closed, rips and stains in the carpet, and out-of-order water fountains marked every few feet. Worse yet, the closer she got to this ‘Lab A’, the more the building began to reek of something hard to place. It kind of smelled like a wet skunk, or maybe burning hair products.

            “Lab A,” Pollyanna read the sign above the door as she prepared to face her future. Inside was a lab much like her high school science lab, but it was a complete disaster area. Not in the sense it wasn’t cleaned, more that someone was in the middle of a very messy experiment. Speaking of which, a pale, brunette woman in a white dress with a white hat lined with brown fleece was working inside, mixing some terrible concoction inside a massive pot on one of the lab tables. A huge white coat with brown fleece was thrown over a nearby chair, while a small silver cane rested on its side. As the brunette added some chemicals and a bizarre weed to her brew, the whole thing burst into flames.

            “Oh dear,” Pollyanna looked around and spotted a nearby fire extinguisher. She snatched it from the cracked, unlocked cabinet and sprayed the fire hazard.

            “Knock it off!” The woman yelled as the first went out and the concoction went inert. “That was six hours of work, gone in an instant, you damn fool!”

            “It was on fire!” Pollyanna countered.

            “It was supposed to do that. Besides, that fire extinguisher expired years ago,” the woman snapped. Pollyanna checked and, wouldn’t you know it, the tool had gone bad years ago. It was half a miracle that it still worked.

            “I’m sorry,” Pollyanna held up her hands, “and why would you have an expired fire extinguisher?”

            “Never got around to replacing it, now off with you,” the brunette shooed her away, “I don’t want any tea.”

            “I’m not the tea lady,” Pollyanna huffed.

            “That’s strange then,” the woman glared at her, “I had given them explicit instructions that the only people allowed in here are the Colonel and the tea lady. Since you aren’t the tea lady, and you’re definitely not the Colonel, get lost.”

            “They sent me up here, look see,” Pollyanna handed her the letter. “You’re Dr. Vermillion, aren’t you?”

            “Doctor?” She took the letter, tore it open without grace, and read it with contempt. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. I don’t need an assistant.”

            “Well, that’s my job, and I’ll do it to the best of my abilities, Dr. Vermillion,” Pollyanna assured.

            “Listen, kid, I don’t know what they told you, probably nothing,” Vermillion shook her head, “but first off, I’m not a doctor, I don’t have an assistant, and I have a name, it’s Valencia. So, before you start calling me Ms. Vermillion, don’t, not even my mother or my grandmother went by that name.”

            “Okay, Ms. Valencia,” Pollyanna nodded, earning her another sigh from Valencia.

            “Just get lost, I have hours of work to redo, and I don’t need your stupid face around to remind me why,” Valencia glared.

            “I’m not going anywhere. I refuse to be ping ponged around this organization because you’re in a foul mood,” Pollyanna stood up for herself.

            “Fine, then go to the corner and count to 1 million. When you’re done, maybe I’ll learn your name. Until then, you’re spare blood,” Valencia snapped.

            “Spare blood? What kind of job do you expect me to do?” Pollyanna was taken aback.

            “Wow, they really told you nothing, didn’t they?” Valencia laughed. “Do you even know what MAST does?”

            “Not really, they wouldn’t give me an orientation,” Pollyanna admitted.

            “That’s because they don’t have one. People don’t last long enough for it to be worth it,” Valencia explained as she put on her coat and grabbed her cane. “Follow me, and I’ll show you why you don’t want to be here, and then you can run along back to whatever post-graduate dropout club they found you in.”

            ‘How rude, but at least she’s going to tell me something relevant,’ Pollyanna huffed again, but followed her new boss. Valencia was slow-moving as she had a terrible limp in her left leg. They walked down a flight of stairs hidden behind a door at the back of the lab. It took them straight to the basement, which had solid metal walls and a sinister chill in the air.

            “I hope you didn’t eat breakfast this morning, because you’re about to lose it,” Valencia tapped her cane on one of the walls, revealing a hidden sliding peephole. “Look through there, but don’t look too long or you’ll have nightmares for decades instead of just years.”

            “What could possibly be so—?” Pollyanna approached the peephole, took one brief look, and immediately wanted to jump back. She saw two things in the room, one was dead, the other was alive. The dead one was a person in a bloodied lab coat, disturbingly fresh, as if they had only been there a week. The other being was…well, it wasn’t a person, or an animal, that’s all she could discern. The room was well lit, yet the creature was in shadows, and while its claws were bloody, it wasn’t like it was eating the corpse. It was just tearing into it for the hell of it. It had quickly noticed Pollyanna’s presence and stared back at her with something that wasn’t eyes. Thankfully, there was a set of steel bars inside the room, keeping it separate from the peephole. Unfortunately, Pollyanna did start to lose her lunch. “What in heaven’s name is that?”

            “It doesn’t have a name, we just found it stalking an apartment building a couple of months ago,” Valencia explained as she shut the peephole.

            “Why is there a body in there!” Pollyanna nearly screamed. “Who were they?”

            “That was the last person who wanted to be my assistant. I never got their name,” Valencia explained. “To prove they were worthy of me or whatever, they tried to study that thing. Then one day, it looked like it had escaped. The fool went inside to find out what happened and found that our nameless guest hadn’t gone anywhere. It took ten people to close the steel bars again, but we weren’t going to risk getting the corpse back.”

            “Why do you keep that thing around if it’s so deadly? What even is it?” Pollyanna looked sick.

            “Because we don’t know what it is. As soon as we do, we’ll decide what to do with it, and hopefully by then we’ll have figured out how to kill it,” Valencia explained. “And that, my dear, is what we do here at MAST,” the brunette leveled her gaze at Pollyanna, “now tell me, do you really still want to be my assistant?”

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A new job is always a confusing time. Sometimes they just don't want to teach you, and sometimes they don't want you at all, but most times neither of you have a choice.

Author's Note: I've been wanting to do a proper follow up to the Woman from Lochmere Lane for a long time, but this isn't quite that, it's more of a prequel. Think of this as an opening to a theoretical series following her adventures at MAST. While I do want to write more of this, I have other fish to fry, namely a maid in fantasy chapter (I promise I'm working on it, it's just slow going). 

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.

Tuesday, February 24, 2026

Strange Scifi Tales - Frozen Haven

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            “Outpost Quartz, do you copy?” Zark said into his communicator, “I have sight of the bogey’s crash site.” While the frigid winds and endless snow of the planet Illbarz made it difficult to see, Zark was the best tracker this side of the Themision Federation. He’d found much smaller targets in much worse conditions.

            “We…ear you…ark, what’s the status of the…get?” The transmission from the outpost came in with heavy static, but was still legible. It was strange, even this far from the outpost, Zark had never gotten this bad of interference outside of the worst snowstorms.

            “I’ve got eyes on it, no movement except for a little smoke caused by damage from the impact,” Zark observed the crash site through his binoculars. He switched to the thermal vision setting to more easily spot anything alive down there, but saw nothing. “Permission to approach?”

            “Perm…ion granted,” the outpost replied, “do not…gage any…ust observe…peat, do…age…”

            “Outpost Quartz? Outpost Quartz, do you copy?” Zark exclaimed into his communicator. “Damn, well, I’m not going back empty-handed. Just a quick inspection and I’ll head back. If anyone’s alive down there, I hope they’re friendly.” Zark stowed his binoculars and picked up his laser rifle. His weapon could fry an Eice Beast 8,000 gsus (Galactic Standard Units) away, so he wasn’t worried, even if he encountered a hostile. Multiple hostiles would be a different story.

            Zark spent a long megacycle descending from his mountain perch down into the icy valley where the bogey crashed. It was not a fun time, and it further affirmed his decision to transfer to the warmest planet he could find for his next assignment. But that was in the future, and it was time to focus on the here and now. After many a careful step over ice and snow, Zark arrived at the crash site and finally got a good look at his target.

            “Not what I expected. Is this even a ship?” Zark observed the sleek, silver-and-white object before him. It looked more like a capsule or escape pod than a proper ship. Which confused him since the initial reports implied it nimbly soared through the air before crashing to the ground. Maybe it was time to get their instruments checked, because it was clear this thing could not be steered. “We might have been presumptuous. Looking at this thing now, it’s probably just a jettisoned cargo pod or something.”

            Zark pondered his options. He could inspect this thing further to confirm his suspicions, but risk being wrong. Or he could try to communicate with Outpost Quartz again and maybe figure out where this thing came from. Heck, if he found a serial number or logo on this thing, that’d be half the work done right there.

            “Outpost Quartz, this is First Scout Zark, do you copy?” He tried to contact the outpost, but was met with worse static than before. “Are you kidding me? The interference has only gotten…worse?” He looked at the bizarre capsule before him and briefly wondered if this was the source of interference. Not impossible, in fact, based on the observed evidence, it was highly probable.

            “Great, I guess I’ll just take some pictures and make my way back before the storm picks up…hey, what’s that?” Zark took another look at the capsule and saw what appeared to be a handle on the front. It was shiny and reflective, standing out with a noticeably different color from the rest of the pod. “Well, I ain’t pulling it, but that’s…wait, is it moving?” Zark realized the “handle” was actually a moving panel on the device. The area around it was shifting slightly, revealing a small lens.

            Light shined out from the lens, clearly indicating it was scanning the area before just as quickly retracting. A muffled, mechanical voice in a language Zark didn’t understand began rattling off something that sounded like a start-up sequence, before the pod opened up like a capsule. Inside was not what Zark expected. It was a female humanoid in what looked like a tightly fit hospital gown, but her most striking feature was a pair of pure white wings on her back.

            “Is that an angle? Or is it just a winged humanoid? Would I even be able to tell?” Zark was taken aback. He wasn’t quite sure what he found now, but he knew whatever it was, he was in way over his head. That’s when the girl opened her eyes and stared at him, or maybe through him, he couldn’t tell.

            “…” The winged girl was silent as she emerged from the pod, completely unbothered by the cold. She slowly scanned the area with her vision, making only the slightest, most mechanical movements.

            “Hey, can you understand me?” Zark broke out of his stupor to ask a simple question.

            “…” The girl’s mouth moved without sound. If Zark didn’t know any better, he’d think she was miming some of his lip movements.

            “Hello?” Zark asked again, while slowly reaching for his laser rifle. He was getting the chills, and it wasn’t just the snow.

            “You’ll do,” she said quietly.

            “What?” Zark took a step back as he began to pull out his laser rifle.

            “You’ll do,” she repeated louder as she lunged at him. Zark pulled the trigger in a panic, but he hadn’t even gotten the rifle level yet, so the shot went wide as the winged girl wrapped one hand around his throat while the other disarmed him with ease. Zark choked as he felt a frigid iron grip squeeze the life out of him. Whatever this girl was, her fragile appearance was just a façade. He could tell by just her touch that she was far more machine than organic.

            “Damn…” Zark croaked out as he tried to reach for the panic button on his communicator, but the girl seized that hand.

            “Initiate,” the girl stated as something Zark couldn’t see came out of the fingers holding his throat. Something that began to pierce into his head like a snake with a needle for a head. Zark had never known what it meant to have your person violated, but he knew in an instant this was a thousand times worse. He could feel this girl invading his head, no, invading his mind. He’d heard of mind reading, of espers peering into your thoughts, but this was different. She wasn’t reading his mind, she was analyzing it, cataloging all the information, and transferring it out as if she just inserted a flash drive into a computer.

            “Information acquired, thank you for your cooperation, First Scout Zark,” the girl stated.

            “Get out…get out of my head,” Zark demanded between desperate breaths.

            “No, Outpost Quartz would not normally allow me inside without heavy resistance,” she explained. “So, you will go in my stead, and let me inside.”

            “I would never,” Zark tried to stand his ground, knowing he was probably dead anyway.

            “No, I will not kill you, and that was not a request,” she replied to his thoughts. “It was an order, and you will do it willingly.” Whatever probes she stuck into his head began to dig deeper and tighter. They were no longer pulling information out of his head, now they were sending something inside and not just information, but something more. “Please do not struggle, your cooperation will make the process significantly less painful,” she plunged her free hand into Zark’s chest and began pumping more of the mysterious substance into him.

            Zark felt his grasp on reality slipping as his consciousness drowned inside his own brain. As something else began to invade his person and take control. In one sense, he was terrified at his sudden demise. In another, he was angry that she lied. Whatever she was doing was going to kill him, maybe not his body, but “Zark” could feel himself ceasing to exist as someone else was being formed inside his brain. But in another way, he was relieved this pain would soon be over. His last sensation was his whole body warping and twisting into something disturbingly familiar.

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            “Captain, I just got a transmission from Zark,” Outpost Quartz’s communication officer explained. “He finally got out of the interference, and he’s ready to deliver his report on the target.”

            “Good, I’ll debrief him myself. Anything else?” The Captain asked.

            “N-no…well, no, it’s probably nothing,” the officer shook his head.

            “If you’re concerned, speak up,” the Captain insisted.

            “Well, his voice still sounded like it was being garbled by interference, that or his communicator is damaged because I was getting terrible feedback,” the communication officer explained.

            “Huh, I’ll bring that up with him then,” the Captain nodded and left the room. The communication officer turned back to his desk and checked the surveillance cameras outside the outpost. He could see Zark approaching, but couldn’t help but feel something was off. Was Zark smaller than before?


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First contact in any context is the most important part of any mission or event, but it's not only a matter of how you make first contact but also if you should make it.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.