The Twisted Tales

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              He sits there in the glow of his computer, furiously typing away to explain his new theory. The glow from the computer illuminates a mainly clean and tidy room, apart from the notes scattered around him. He had just found some more information that proved his case. He wished he could still speak to his family or old friends, but they had all shunned him. He never brought up the theory in standard conversation, but there was a dinner party and they were discussing the news article about a hairbrained theory. The article was propaganda to dissuade the public from his idea. He had proof, and several academic articles proving that there was a solid bedrock to his idea.

They hadn't even let him explain anything – this was no debate. This was a pack tearing down anything that went against what they wanted. His mother had told him she was embarrassed, and his father told him to leave. Everyone agreed with them. The news spread about everyone connected, and everyone cut him out of their lives. He was now alone, and he hated it. However, he was committed to his plan. He had a respectable website, cultivated from years of journalism where he would put the story. His other website was where he had started to float the idea, to see if he could pick up any information from any others.

He now had insider information which was iron clad – the government had been running secret testing to reform genetics after a child was born in order to make them more obedient to make them into better soldiers. He had reports from in the governments agency, with signatures and footage. He did a large section on it with a new GUI so that people could really explore the information he was presenting.

Two months after he presented the information he was presented with an award by the police for uncovering corruption in the government that would have collapsed the country in the international front. A month after that he got knighted for his dedication to rooting out corruption after he found that a branch had continued its work. He had swiftly found it and reported it. He then became a detective for the police working in rooting out corruption in companies and governments. He was even given his own task force.

I can see you right there the other side of the screen or bit of paper – and all you can think is how is this twisted? A man who gave up everything to fight in what he believed in and saved people? Well have you considered the family that turned on him and ripped him verbally apart. Well they came back. They wanted to be a part of the story, a part of the money, a part of the acclaim. They tried the same tricks, to pressure him into forgetting it but he didn't. He couldn't. They weren't his family – they belonged to society. But in the eyes of society, he was the dick for not letting them back into his life. Well, he wrote a story to explain what happened, so now he was a dick for exposing a part of his private life. He will never win in the eyes of society.

After this he took more risks. He wanted to prove he wasn't a dick and he did the right thing for others. Unfortunately, his luck ran out and he was captured by the geneticists. They tortured him, cut him up and messed with his genes. When his force found him, they didn't even know they had found him for the first few hours as the wheezing bag of meat did not resemble the knighted investigator. They decided the right thing to do was to put him down, but they didn't get it right in the first few attempts so he had to live through that.

The only positive to this ending is that his family had to face what they had caused at his publicised funeral. For once the eyes of society were on them to play their part, and by god did they start to chafe under the scrutiny. For once they were treated with their own noxious view, and even if it was too late, it was still amazing to watch. The forced tears over a slab of meat that looks like it came from a horror film and the eulogies of missing him with fake stories plastered all over. Their pain was more deserved and beautiful then any love poem.

Good news is I filmed it. I now make a nice steady sum in horror festivals showing the raw footage of their fakeness. Shows them right for what they did to him, and helped make him do.