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This is one of my stories that just didn't quite get finished, however, I am still working on it right now. Somewhere in the summer I might complete the ending, till then you will be seeing fairly short chapters like this one. Unlike "Artifact" the chapters aren't quite as long.







Couculon 4









Part 1: Everyday Life









Everyone thought that Malcom Hamlton was the most pathetic person in the school of Riverbend High. That was until he met his greatest and only friend. This friend wasn’t just a normal or nice person he was a machine of power, it was a computer that was thought to be a junky old piece of garbage going straight for the junk heap, but once Malcom discovered his power, they’re was no stopping him and his new found friend from feasting on revenge on the ditty girl who turned him down, too the thug that was going to tare him apart. The tale all began when Malcom had moved to Heminster Massachusetts. The town of Heminster was an alive town full of thug brigades and hordes of girlie’s who only focused on their lives. The town of Heminster was actually the last town where Malcom would fit in. There were very few kids that were interested in the same things he was interested in like himself and the town library was about the size of a penny candy shop. His parents weren’t very interesting folks either, so he could almost never talk to them.



One day he was walking to school by himself, as usual. He was wearing his simple white colored T-shirt and a pair of dressy paints. He was carrying a very heavy back pack, but that is from his stance. The average girl could lift more then him. Among the boys at school he was in the shallowest end of the greatness and respected pool. He had the frame of a great blue heron and looked like a mole with a pointy nose and large black framed pair of glasses. Yet his glasses attracted some teachers, while the kids bombarded him with questions like “What the hell happened to your eye’s.” They would also tease him and gossip about his big glasses too.



Malcom was also a very shy person. He rarely ever had anything to share in class and would sometimes like to think he was invisible so the teacher would never call on him to read or to say anything out loud in front of the class. His brown, black hair was very short and always combed nicely. He also thought that his shoes were very important pieces of clothing. He usually wore a pare of brown penny loafers to school.



Along the way to school down the silent sidewalk on the quiet road he spotted a butterfly sitting on a white fence of a inhabitants house. He slowly walked up to it trying to not scare it away. Malcom was usually a very big chicken and would normally run at the sight of any arthropod. This time he was more curious about the bug. He walked over to it and placed his finger next to the fence. Amazingly the butterfly flew onto his finger.



“Your a calm little fellow aren’t you,” he said as he gently stroked the beauties wings. “For a butterfly your big.” The butterflies wings were very pretty and were a blended color of yellow and red. The butterfly looked like a species that he was not familiar with. The butterfly slowly opened it’s wings. They were even more colorful on the insides. They were purple with swirls of black. He smiled at the kaleidoscopic insect. Then in a fluttering of purple, red and yellow it started to flap it’s wings rapidly and then it slowly took off. Malcom watched it fly into the blue cloudless sky and it disappeared into the horizon. He dropped his smile and flipped it down to a frown at the sight of a punk brigade heading towards him. He turned around and started down the road towards the school.



The hoodlums were dressed like goths. They had long baggy pants with chains and a couple of them had beards that hung almost down to their chests. They all carried dark colored backpacks with silver spikes going down the sides of the handles and across the tops of the bags.











When he got into the school his head was already pounding with the sounds of doors opening and closing and feet being shuffled across the scratchy marble floors. He was late as usual and he was never proud of it.



He walked down the noisy halls to his first period class. Although the noise started to slowly die down as he drew nearer to the class room. He walked quietly down the marble stairs to the dark room. His first class was one of his favorites. He didn’t really like photography but he did like being in a class where there was just a few kids and they were all very quiet. He walked around the corner at the bottom of the stairs and he walked up to the dark room door. He slowly opened the door, it creaked noisily.



“Oh damn,” Malcom thought.



“Well it looks like your late. What’s your excuse?!” spoke the teacher from behind the door in a grumpy voice.



Malcom didn’t hear the bell but still he could have tried to hurry it up a bit. He opened the door slowly peaking in the red highlighted room. He so the tall blonde skinny teacher looking at him with a nasty face with her arms folded.



“Well I’m not going to let you ruin my day. Lets get started on developing the photos we shot during the dance the other week,” announced the tall Ms. Studabacker taking out some of the film rolls.



Malcom sat down at his film development station in the corner of the room.



“Its time to start another day,” he thought as he looked through the negative rolls of film. He looked at one of the negative photos. The picture seemed very peculiar and different. It had him in the picture and next to him was the most wanted girl in the school. The sight made his mind jump. looked at another picture. The picture next to it was just as strange. The picture had him standing in the schools foot ball field with him holding what looked like a foot ball with his hand raised high smiling. Next to him was the schools most popular artist and most popular jock. Also having Peggy Dirth standing next to you is also a nice thought.



“What the hell is Erin Mikelemen and Joe Barbareya standing next to me. I don’t ever recall being out on the field with those guys?” though Malcom.



Although the thought and look made him happy. Surely it would be impossible to get one of those guys to stand next to him. Ernie was a very quiet student but he would never have anything to do with Malcom. However Malcom would love to have an artistic friend. Joe on the other hand was very ignorant around him but very nice around others. Still, he would also love to be able to hang out with a jock like Joe. He started to unravel the film even more. The only other picture that he thought that looked usual was the one at the end of the roll with him sitting down working at a computer that looked totally unfamiliar to him.



“I am going to develop these as fast as I can,” he said to himself.



Suddenly he looked back down at the roll of unusual red negatives and he noticed there was a small bar code at the bottom of each negative. He could see the numbers listed inside the bar said 2,1,2,1. He wondered at what it meant. He suddenly heard a growl behind him. He turned around and he saw the teacher standing over him.



“Chop chop,” she said clapping her hands and Then walked away.



Malcom snarled at her as she walked away with her long white flower print skirt sweeping from side to side.



“Damn old biddy,” Malcom thought. Malcom slid the negative picture of him on the foot ball field and turned on the film development machine on and set the timer for 45 seconds. He was hoping for these pictures to come out well and maybe if he showed them to his parents. Then maybe they would start to show some respect for that he actually made friends.



In the next 30 minutes it was time to switch classes and Malcom was off to his next class. He was now only 2 classes away from lunch. The next class was math and unlike the other students that shared this class with him he loved math. Sure he wasn’t a prodigy but he still enjoyed it. He walked down the scratchy marble halls to the staircase that lead to the upper floor to the building. He walked up the stairs slowly and quietly. Ever since he was a very small child he had a thing about high staircases. He hoped no high school maniac would come running down the marble stairs, or jump and slide down the dark brown wooden railing. Malcom was now only a couple steps away from the top of the stairs. Suddenly quick heavy foot steps started crashing down the hallway followed by girlish giggles. He quickly covered the last few steps up and came to the top. Down the long hallway he could see the crazy girls frolicking and dashing towards him. They suddenly turned to the left down the hallway and jumped inside room 203. Giggling like little premature tottlers. Malcom sometimes thought that girls would never grow up.



When he entered the room a few people looked at him in silence, The rest had their heads down and looked like they were sleeping. Most of the boys had their heads down on the desks like turtles with their heads in their shells. However most of the girls were starring straight at him. Especially Juliana mint, he smiled briefly and then walked over to his desk next to the window. After setting his books and backpack down next to his cold metal and wooden desk he noticed the teacher wasn’t present in the room. The students were sleeping like the dead. Every student looked like they had been partying all night long with those zombielike red blood shot eyes and wasted looking expressions.



Malcom of course was ready to work and stay active for the rest of class. He glanced at the student that was sitting to the right of him. The student was Hilary Birden. She was wearing a pink and white horizontal striped tight T-shirt with blue jeans. Her wheat blonde hair was up in a messy pony tail. Unsurprisingly she was fixing her silver grotesque stomach ring. Malcom figured it would be impossible to do such a thing with those 2 inch red finger nails. She was a pretty girl in away but she looked a tiny bit chubby. Next to him on the left there was nothing but a window. Suddenly the world of other things all came to a complete stop when the teacher Mr. Macklock slammed the door after entering the room.



“Well, it looks like everyone’s full of energy today just like yesterday,” he said grabbing some green chock off his desk. “Ok everyone crack them books and turn to page 245.



All the students except for Malcom and a few other alive students were already. The rest of the class rouse like the dead with long scratchy yawns and cracking backs. Then the guady students took out their books from their book bags.



“Now, lets go over last nights homework. Since we don’t have time to go over all twenty questions lets go over all the really nasty ones.”



“Like number fourteen?” asked a red haired chubby boy.



“Sure, would you read that one for the class.”



“Um. 15 over 35, across from that there is an X thingy that is below a 45.”



“And what is your final answer?”



“Um. 89.”



“Finale answer.”



“Uh, I guess so.”



“WWWrronggo!” yells Mr. Macklock and then points to Malcom. “Malcom my boy what’s the answer!”



“19.3,” says Malcom scratching under his right index finger nail.”



“Correcto! That’s one down for today. Who’s next?” he asks in an energetic voice. Macklock looked all around the room till he spotted the student that stuck out like a soar thumb, it was Christine of course the only student that looked like she was busier with doing her nails than paying attention.



“Christine my dear would you please read us number twenty if your not to busy with your nails.”



“What!” she answered lifting her head up to meet the eyes of the teacher. “Sure.”



“What is your answer then.”



“16.”



“Wrongo.”



“Hampten what did you get?”



“54.”



“Correcto mundo. Well I can see that we have had some trouble last night with our homework. Those of you who have gotten the answers wrong check’em down. The ones who got them right keep on going to page 250.











After about 45 minutes of tough mathematics class was over and it was time for the students to move to there next block. Malcom walked out of the building and went walking over to the gym building. This was one of the classes Malcom was not a soaring eagle in. He wasn’t really into fitness and when he had the frame of a toothpick things weren’t always so easy to lift or work with.



He opened the door to the gym and walked inside. He looked all around the place but he didn’t see anyone. The building was quiet as a mouse and as still as a rock. He walked into the boys changing room. He grabbed his gym shorts and got ready for gym class. When he walked out he could see a lot of the other boys and girls were coming in. Malcom laid down on the thigh master. Laying down felt good on his spine. Moving around from class to class wasn’t easy.



“Haaayy!” struck a loud voice from above. What a ya doin layin down on da job squid legs.”



“Oh no, if it isn’t the buff king,” Malcom thought getting up off the machine awkwardly.



“Come on its time to get pumped dup. Lets stot where it ain’t so hod,” said the buff king laying down on the forearm pumper.

Malcom laid down on the same machine next to the buff king.



“Pick dot thing up like it was da toothpick you clean ya guly teeth with.”



Malcom tried his best. He graded the weighted handle bars and started to apply some strong pressure. For him that is.



“Take it easy on ya self.”

The weight was only 40 pounds. Malcom took a vase of action and pressed the bar as hard as he could. The bar went up to full extent. His teeth clinched like a compactor crushing a car. His muscles tightened like hell. He slowly brought the weight down and then up again slowly. The weight seemed to just become more difficult to move each time he raised it and lowered it back down. Suddenly as he pushed the bar up strenuously and tightly to full extent the weight crashed back down hard with his arms falling back down. The buff king stood up in front of him.



“Wondaful. So how ya feellin?”



Malcom raised up his right fist and gave the buff king the good thumbs up.

“Good, dats what die wants to heaa.”



The black tang topped and blue shorts muscle machine turned away from Malcom and walked over to another machine. Mike Russell was some body builder and he loved to see even the weakest try to do their best at perfecting their bodies. Malcom got up from the machine and cracked his back. Gym class wasn’t great but it wasn’t terrible either.



After 40 minutes of class it was time to head down to the cafeteria. He walked down the stairs to the dark old cafeteria. Although the cafe seemed like a dark dungeon from the Middle Ages. The tables were usually dirty and the floor was all black and dirty some of the walls didn’t even have paint. Malcom walked down the last few steps and then proceeded through the open dry hallway that lead to the cafe. The sounds of chattering and gossip already started to pound at his ears. Unlike a medieval dungeon it was noisy and crowded. Malcom hated lunch times more than any other time of the day. Malcom entered the room of disturbing noises. The cafe was so incredibly loud and disturbing it seemed as if he had to shout to be heard by the cafeteria lady. Malcom stepped in line for the hot lunches. The line was small today but still the students didn’t even stop their gossiping, shrieking, and laughing. Malcom on some occasions brought ear plugs to the cafe. In front of him stood a very fat kid with wheat blonde hair. He looked like the Marshmallow man from the T.V. show Monster search. With his bone white skin and white T-shirt and gray shorts. Malcom grabbed a tray from in front of him. He grabbed a small salad off the salad tray. He slowly moved on down the counter. Behind the next dish stood a looming black man with a dark mustache and sun glasses. The man held a tong in his right hand, and in front of him was a sizzling metal steam tray full of what looked like fried chicken.



“What is that?” Malcom asked



“Chicken Cunlaybla.”



“Wow! I didn’t know the cafe made that kind of food. I’ll take one.”



The massive man dropped a piece of steaming chicken on his white plate on his tray. On Malcoms way out he grabbed a glass of water and a thick roll of bread.



He sat where he always had sat in the quiet motionless corner of the cafe. He placed his tray down and then took a drink from his water and nibbled a bit on his roll. Malcom felt completely alone at school no mater where about’s his location was on campus he was always completely alone. Malcom was quite tired and didn’t feel like eating. He closed his eye’s and put his head down on the table. Without warning a plate was dropped next to him. He sprang up from his seat like a jack in a box.



“Mind if I sit here?” asked the tall thin black boy.



“Are you serious?”



“Of course.”



“Well sure. Your the first person in maybe a year or two who hasn’t avoided sitting with me.”



“Nasty!” the boy remarked. My name is Alex Subooda.



“My names Malcom Hamltin. I’m glad to be in your presents.”



Then the well mannered boy sat down next to him. Alex looked even weirder than Malcom. He was wearing a pare of screaming yellow jeans. A horizontal stripped turtle neck with green, purple, yellow, red and black stripes. His shoes looked like they were straight from the 70s’ with white laces and red and white stripes The overwhelming bright colors made it almost hard to look at him. Although he had a very plain face and had no special features or anything other than his green framed glasses.



“I see you must too be new around here.”



“Not really man, I just haven’t noticed ya or ya haven’t noticed me.”



“Oh. Well what do you think of this place?”



“Dull as hell if you ask me. One of my friends has ya in one of his classes. He told me all about you. He said that you like to tinker with things.”



“Really? Who is it?” Malcom asked sharply.



“His names Greg but we call him Jetdry,” Alex said making a funny motion with his hands.



“Wow! I guess I’m more well known than I thought I was,” Malcom said cutting off a piece of his chicken.



“Well any who I got some mighty cool info for ya cus,” Alex said leaning over to Malcom. “Since I heard ya like investagatin too I bet ya a million that you’ll love to come to the old factory that they’re tarrin down.



Malcom looked up from his plate in surprise.



“What are you talking about. I have not been informed about a factory being torn down.”



“That’s because they don’t want anybody knowin,” Alex said pealing a orange. “This place is old, huge and made out of bricks. The building is very old and its a fallin down little by little every otha day boy.”



“I can’t say I knew about it.”



“Well this joint is full of all kinds of stuff that will do some mighty fine things for you and ya life.



“How do you know?”



“Well lets just say I heard they used ta stash all kinds of items in that joint.”



“What kind of things?”



“Auto parts, electronics, the works.”



“Supposedly they still have some of those very fine items there now?”



“Sure. I guess were just gonna have to check things out.”



“Alright,” said Malcom in a confident voice.



“Meet me afta school by the flag pole. We go out huntin tonight.”



------
Colin Clifford



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