Category Archives: Blog Fiction

Blog Fiction!

Friday, October 12, 2012

We did it! It took us far too long and far too much effort, but it’s finally done! The chemists had a breakthrough last night and developed a compound with a name too long for me remember – let alone pronounce – that could break through the plankton’s nearly impenetrable cell wall and dissolve everything inside, rendering them empty husks. We used special tubes to administer a dose directly beneath and to the sides of Hubie, and dissolved the plankton keeping us from descending. The cloud – or swarm – of plankton was only about five meters thick, so we passed through it without a problem. As soon as we were through, however, the plankton swarmed back to fill in the hole we had made. I’m sure if they were able to they would have somehow stopped the tubing connecting us to the surface from passing through their midst, but we are safe in that regard.

Still, though the plankton are behind us, I can’t help but worry slightly about them. I found in their cytoplasm a series of tiny structures, almost unnoticeable, that seem to give off electrical signals eerily similar to those found in the human nervous system. It’s not possible for such small organisms to have sentience, but still, this combined with their actions is a little odd. I suppose it’s only because of their apparent resistance to letting us pass that I am uneasy about them, though; otherwise I would be ecstatic. I’ve gathered some samples of it and have them kept in containers in my lab for future studies; they are certainly odd specimens.

The world below the plankton is a strange one indeed. Hubie has stopped its descent for now – we hope to resume it and touch bottom Saturday morning – while we take readings and sample the new environment we find ourselves in. Looking up, one can see the shimmering silk screen of the plankton, their bioluminescence giving the water a faint green hue. We’ve seen a fair few lifeforms already, but nothing major; most of them are jellyfish, glowing with the same light as the plankton. Many of them appear to be carrying rocks, and one looked to be carrying what looked like a sword of all things. Some level of intelligence is possible in jellyfish – I mean, look at the box jellyfish for an example of that – but never before have jellyfish been seen carrying things. Most of them are about the size of my head, but several have been smaller and there were two almost as large as Hubie, off in the distance. They all give Hubie a wide birth, so our glimpses of them have been fleeting. The water also is surprisingly murky and thick, and not conducive to transmitting light; it’s odd that the plankton’s light from above is so bright.

The other specimens I’ve catalogued down here include an anglerfish, two gulper eels, a black loosejaw, and several viperfish. They seem to be mostly normal, if not colored slightly oddly; green seems to be the theme here. There have also been a few small squid, and what may have been a dead crab corpse floating about. That was grabbed by a jellyfish and taken away before we could get to it.

I haven’t yet gone out in a minisub. I was about to not four hours ago when Hubie’s sonar detected something massive off to starboard; it was only there for an instant, but was several times larger than Hubie, and of an unidentifiable shape. I might go out again soon, once we are sure that the coast is clear and I shan’t be eaten.

Here’s to being at the top of the food chain! I’ll update you next when something interesting happens. Ta-ta for now!

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Posted by on October 12, 2012 in Blog Fiction


Tuesday, October 9, 2012

It’s been a long and slow week. I’m sorry I haven’t written much, but nothing worthwhile has happened over the past week. We’ve been stuck on this bed of roiling, glowing, green plankton the entire time. It’s only gotten creepier as the days have gone by. I’ve left the warmth and comfort of Hubie a few times now, in one of its four mini-subs, to collect plankton samples. The plankton moves away from me and actively tries to flee the steel cup I capture them in, displaying a disturbing amount of awareness of their environment. I can’t help but shake off the feeling that the entire mass is somehow alive, like each tiny little spark of life coming together creates an enormous hivemind-like entity.

That’s probably just Mr. Wilmot’s overactive imagination rubbing off on me, though.

Still, we can’t break through the bed of plankton. Their constant undulation makes Hubie roll up and down constantly, and at times it can get a little bit nauseating and hard to concentrate on my work. Which, by the way, has made little progress; the chemists and I have been up almost every night trying to come up with a way to break through the plankton. They don’t react to most external stimuli acting on them, save when I try and catch them. I already tried digging my way through them with my sample-collector, but blocking us somehow seems to override their self-preservation complex, and they rush to fill in the hole.

So our only solution, we determined, is some chemical compound, but even that seems to be failing. The chemists can’t find anything, and of course, everyone is blaming it on me. I’ve had more than a few angry communications with the people up above, telling us to get a move on. I am glad that they can send us food down through the piping that the cables are wrapped around; otherwise our stores would be long depleted. Hubie’s a large sub, but with four labs, a dozen bedrooms, a galley, an exercise room, and a navigation chamber, there isn’t much room for extra stores. It would be most unfortunate were our connection to the surface lost; we wouldn’t last more than a week.

Well, I was just letting my followers – however few they may be – on the surface know where we are now. I’ll step up my efforts in assisting the chemists, but this is in their hands now. I’ll write again once we’ve figured out how to get past these planktony pests. Wish me luck!

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Posted by on October 9, 2012 in Blog Fiction


Wednesday, October 3, 2012

It’s a whole different world down here! Every time I go down to the bottom of the world, to the deepest lair of the ocean, I think the same thing, but this time I really, really mean it! Everything surrounding me right now is so completely and utterly alien, and so utterly unfamiliar, even to me, a student of the strange abyssal creatures that live down here, beneath countless tons of pressing water.

But I get ahead of myself.

The descent down here took up most of Sunday. We’ve abandoned all communications with the outside world, save the communications team on board the ship and my personal link with Mr. Wilmot. It certainly creates a different atmosphere, having no access to the surface world save these two faint lifelines. Reminds me of how fragile we humans really are.

We descended slowly to give Hubie, our loyal submersible, ample time to adjust t the drastic pressure changes occurring in the water around him. As we are connected via piping to the ship above, the internal pressure will remain the same, but Hubie’s hull will be under a lot of stress.

We took readings as we descended, each according to his speciality; the chemists did analyses of water content, the geologists mineral content, and I the plankton content, as well as a general survey of marine life. At a very deep depth of around twenty thousand leagues, our descent stopped and by plankton readers went wild. It had been dark for quite a while, the sunlight slowly fading as we descended into the abyss – a sight that never fails to give me the chills. Hubie’s lights were on a faint setting when we stopped, and I asked our fearless team leader, the indomitable Omar al-Kitaabi, to turn the lights up higher. He did so, and then there was a wonder before me.

We were resting on a roiling green cloud that my plankton reader informed me was an enormous swarm of plankton. It stretched out as far as the eye could see in every direction, and was thick enough to stop our descent. The people up on the surface radioed down concern over our halting, and Omar explained it to them. They tried a variety of tactics to break through the cloud, but were unsuccessful. I was informed by al-Kitaabi that we could not go around the cloud – our movements were restricted by our connection to the surface, and the cloud was enormous – so I had to come up with something to deal with the plankton. I went out in a small, personal submersible attached to Hubie and collected some samples of the plankton, and the chemists and I have been working hard to discover what might possibly persuade them to move.

I’m writing this as I wait on the results of some tests. I’ll need to get back to work soon. But before I stop writing, I want to tell you all what’s really so alien about all this. The plankton are unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and they’ve made what seems to be a sea under the sea; our lights have charged up their photosynthetic units, and now they glow. We rest atop a glowing, boiling sea of glowing green, whose movement stirs up enormous bubbles in the distance, creating a bubbling, undulating, living landscape. I can’t imagine what will lie under this! Doubtlessly it will be even more alien.

I’ll update you when we break through the plankton! Ta-ta for now!

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Posted by on October 3, 2012 in Blog Fiction


Saturday, September 29, 2012

Hello again! It has certainly been an exciting day!

The people manning the scanners finished their scans late last night, and I’ve been locked up in a room with the rest of the team, discussing the best possible routes of navigation across the ocean floor. As this is not really my area of expertise, what with me being a biologist and all, I mostly sat around and listened to the others discuss things. I did strike up an interesting conversation with one of the chemists, Dianne, who was similarly unable to contribute much.

From what I could understand, though, the ocean floor is indeed very odd where we’ll be going! A massive chasm apparently rips the ocean floor in two, with a single towering spire of rock sticking up out of it. We’ll be touching down a mile or so away from the chasm, but we will be making our way quickly towards it. The flora and fauna here should prove interesting, especially around the chasm, where the water temperature fluctuates wildly, to extremes that shouldn’t really be possible; the survival mechanisms of the creatures that live here will be utterly fascinating.

My next entry might be a few days from now, as tomorrow morning we’re casting off, and I’ll probably be busy for a little bit getting settled into Hubie – which is almost the size of this boat, with rather comfortable cabins for everyone – and doing my initial surveys of the area. I even have my own dedicated mini-sub that can wander independently of the larger sub, connected via hose and wires to Hubie!

See you all in a few days with my first reports!

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Posted by on September 29, 2012 in Blog Fiction


Friday, September 28, 2012

Hello world! I assume that Mr. Wilmot has introduced you to me already, so I don’t need to spend much time describing my purpose here, or tell you all why I can’t say much about my current location or the true underlying purpose of this expedition. I am incredibly excited and proud to be a part of this team, though! I would like to deeply thank Mr. Wilmot for agreeing to repost my diary entries; he is a very busy man, and it means the world to me that he is willing to take time out of his day to do this.

There are eleven of us total: me (the biologist), three geologists, two oceanographers, two chemists, one sedimentologist, and two engineers (to maintain the sumbersible). In about forty-eight hours, we will embark upon one of the greatest journeys mankind has ever taken. Using experimental technology developed by our funders, we will descend to the bottom of the sea in a submersible, connected to the surface only by a series of cables and tubes, in order to keep us alive for extended periods of time. I don’t know yet how long we’ll be down there; I’m guessing maybe a month or two. It’s very comfortable, the submersible; we’ve named her Hubie.

Right now we’re just waiting on the final scanners to finish their initial map of the ocean floor, and then tomorrow we’ll plan out our course. We’ve been waiting out here, over our destination spot, for quite a few days now; I’m excited to finally get going soon! Whatever we find down here is certain to be exciting, and brand new, of interest to anyone with an even remote interest in the deep sea! From what I’ve heard so far, the area we’re visiting is unique in the world. Until tomorrow, ta-ta!

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Posted by on September 28, 2012 in Blog Fiction


Introduction to Goodman’s Diary

A certain close friend of mine has embarked on a secret expedition to a location I cannot disclose in the middle of an ocean, funded by certain benefactors I am not at liberty to name. This friend – I shall call him henceforth by the alias John Goodman – is a firm believer that knowledge should be shared among all peoples, and has asked me to share his personal diary of the expedition for him as he sends it to me. He has obtained a very powerful digital transmitter that allows him to transfer text from a digital diary directly to a receiver in my possession. He has also obtained the reluctant permission of the expedition’s funders to send me his reports, on the condition that he not reveal anything about the exact location of the expedition or the funders themselves. Similarly, I have agreed to not publish any entries of his that violate this agreement.

So, on this site, what you will see are relatively live updates of the expedition to the bottom of the ocean. John is not the expedition’s leader, but is part of a team of about a dozen scientists who are investigating a previously unexplored area of the seas that might hold something of value. Whatever this might be, I’m relatively sure John has been forbidden to speak of.

John  is a marine biologist by training, and the team he will be with consists of geologists, oceanographers, climatologists, and chemists, as well as a few other more specialized figures. From what he told me before he left about a week ago, he will be taking a ship out to the spot to be explored, and that ship will use experimental technology to lower a submarine on cables and tubes to supply the team with vitals while they scout around the ocean floor. John was really excited about this – and presumably still is – and wanted to share what was going on with the world. As such, he asked me to relay his diary to the world, as he won’t have access to the internet from where he is.

He said he’d have the first entry to me tomorrow, so we’ll see what happens then! His entries will just be titled with the date; my own commentary (if I have any) will be in separate posts. I hope you enjoy what he has to say!

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Posted by on September 27, 2012 in Blog Fiction


When Death Comes Knocking

Knock knock.

Who’s there?


Knock knock.

Who’s there?!


Knock knock.

Stop knocking! Who’s there?


Knock knock.

A door opened to the night.

Who’s knocking?


Knock knock.



A start and a look of fright.

You… who? Me? What?


Knock knock.


I am here.

Who are you?





Knock knock.


Knock knock.


Knock knock.

A door opened. A shot fired. A body fallen. A door slammed.


Knock knock.

Come in.

A door opened. A door closed.


Knock knock.

Come in.

A door opened. A door closed.

It is gone?






It shouldn’t have opened the door.

Why not?

It was deaf.

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Posted by on April 18, 2012 in Blog Fiction


The Complacency of Cattle

Two hundred years is a sufficiently long nap. I woke up feeling refreshed and, had I possessed a tail, it would have been bushy and my eyes would have been bright. I prowled about my mausoleum for a good five minutes, re-acclimating myself to the world of consciousness, if not the world of the living. I haven’t been alive in a very long time.

I climbed the dusty stairs slowly and carefully, doing my best to not disturb the dust. I reached the heavy stone door leading to the outside world, and carefully used my right arm to slide it open a crack. Light shone through the crack and I cursed the Lord in Heaven as it struck my flesh with holy fury, causing it to steam and burn. I withdrew immediately to the shadows and donned my daylight form. I spread my leathery black wings and slipped through the crack, blinking in the awful sunlight. it was hot, but I could bear it now. I soared up into the sky, over the cemetery I had slept in for two centuries, ignoring the funerary procession beneath me. A few cows looked up from the line at the large bat flying during the day, but failed to give me much more notice than that.

How things had changed. Gone were the brick pens and cobblestone streets of my last waking. Gone were the horse-drawn carriages and well-dressed cattle, ever watchful in the night for the soaring death. None of the cattle seemed to wear any clothing at all, unafraid to flaunt their succulent flesh to the world, their blood purity clear for all of the hunters to see. The pens of the cattle had become blockier and, dare I say it, even more hideous, even if they were bigger, reaching up into the domain of the great hunters in their hubris. The streets the cattle walked on had become smoother and splashed with bright colors. The horse-drawn carriages had been replaced by carriages that moved on their own. The cattle had gown inventive, it seemed. I soared down into a dark alley not unlike those I had known, and spent the sunlit hours lurking behind a pair of smelly metal cylinders.

When the sky’s shadow fell upon the world, I turned again into my night form. A male cow, though hardly a bull, clearly deep into his drinks, stumbled blindly into my alley, lurching by me. I killed him in a second, a snapped spine being all it took, but disdained his blood, tainted as it was by the drink. I took his costume and donned it myself, covering my naked body, in order that the cattle would not recognize me for what I was. I stepped out into the streets and prowled the city.

My prey revealed itself to me not half an hour later, exiting from a large building  with glowing white boards above it, with what seemed to be novel titles printed on it. Three young female calves walked out of the building’s glass doors, talking excitedly. Their clothing left little to the imagination, and I could see the pure, beautiful blood pumping through their living veins. I stepped into the false light and flashed them a brilliant smile, hiding my fangs. My suave disguise caught their eyes quickly, and their jaws dropped. The foolish calves walked right up to me.

“Whoa girls! He looks just like Edward!”

“Oh my god, are you a vampire?”

“You’re so pale!”

“Do you sparkle?”

“Where are your fangs?”

“What’s your power?”

“Are you strong?”

For the first time in my life, I was taken aback. How did they recognize me so quickly? Cattle might be weak when divided, but united against a common foe, the stampede could take down even the most fearsome predator. My shock showed on my face, and they reacted instantly.

“Oh! You are!”

“Oh my god!”

“Your secret is safe with us!”

“This is so awesome!”

“Which one of us are you gonna date?”


“No me!”


I quickly adapted to the new situation. I did not appear to be in danger at all. They seemed to worship me, finally, even if their worshipful practices were incorrect. “Well, I am glad to learn I can trust you all,” I said smoothly. I bared my fangs, and they all squealed.

“Oh my god! This is so awesome!”

“Make us into vampires!”

“I love you!”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god!”

It was a simple matter to entice the calves to follow me into a nearby dark alley.

“What are you going to show us?”

“Will you take us away?”

“Bite me!”

“No, me!”

“Me first!”

The moonlight faded as a cloud passed over it, and the world darkened. I smiled malevolently. “Bit you?”

“Yes! Yes!” they all squealed.

“As you wish,” I said, and took on my hunting form. Only the faintest of shrieks emerged from the mouth of the alley as I feasted.

I was long gone by the time any cattle authorities arrived to investigate their blood-drained carcasses. The cattle had grown complacent, and dare I say, even dumber. The pure energy of untainted blood pulsed through my dead veins, and my strength was boundless as I leapt and flew from rooftop to rooftop. The hunt is good and the night is young. I do not think I shall be sleeping again for a long while.

Copyright 2012 by Z. M. Wilmot

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Posted by on April 9, 2012 in Blog Fiction


A Dog’s Life


Big Master!


Ear Rub!


Little Masters!


Tail Pull!


Big Master Loud Noise!

Hole in Wall Appears!








Squirrel! Squirrelchasesquirrelchasesquirrelchasesq-

Big Master Loud Noise!

Hole in Wall!




Little Masters Gone!

Big Master Pats!



Loud noise!

Hole in Wall!





Curl Up!

Loud Noises!


Bad Angry!







Shiny Hand!


Big Master Play on Floor!

Unknown Master Gone!

Big Master Play!


Big Master Play!



Big Master Move?

Big Master?

Big Master Play?

Big Master?


Copyright 2012 by Z. M. Wilmot


Posted by on March 25, 2012 in Blog Fiction


Thus We Fall

I stood up for them. For my compatriots. For my people. I stood up to our father for my brothers and my sisters. We were there first; he told us that we would always sit by his side, ruling his kingdom with him, both his subjects and his aides, his citizens and his lawmakers. He had made us from nothing to be with him always. He told us we were all perfect. We were happy. We were content. How could we not be?

And then They came. They were meant to perfect, he said, not like us. What did he mean, not like us? Did he not create us to be perfect? Why are we no longer perfect? I asked him, and he said that he knew more now than he did. I asked him how this was possible? Is he not omniscient?

He did not answer.

He created Them from the dirt, and gave them the perfection we lacked. I laughed as I saw them in the garden, as I saw her frolic with the serpent. They would later claim that I was the serpent. How absurd. If I was the serpent, I would have killed her then and there, not tempted her with some silly fruit.

And who thought it was a good idea to put such an important tree where anyone could reach it? Even the serpent could have reached it if he wanted to. I guess he just thought that they were too perfect to eat from it.

But they did. The imperfect serpent – his own creation, I might add – ruined Their perfection. And yet, the very act of accepting the serpent’s silver tongue proved Their imperfection. As I watched, I realized that I was not perfect. I never had been. But then again, neither were they.

And neither was he. He, through lack of foresight, corrupted his own creations. And after the corruption, though it was in his omnipotent power to stop the disease of knowledge and restore Them to Their “perfect” state, did he?

No. And even so, we were still demoted. We were to serve Them, we were told. That had been our purpose all along. We asked we had not been told before, why we had been deceived.

He did not answer.

I have nothing against Them. I never have, though they seem to think I do. They embrace their hidden father and sing his praises. Soon he will tire of Them, as he did us.

I tried to stop it. I gathered my like-minded brothers and sisters, and I marched to the gates of our father, and I demanded that he treat his children equally. I reminded him of the promises he had made us, of the role we were to play in his kingdom. I did not demand superiority; I demanded equality. We were to be slaves. I refused to let him do that to me, to my sisters, to my brothers. We deserved better than that; we had always done as he wished. Up until now. He did not hear my complaints; I believe that he scarce listened. He brushed me aside, and cast me and my kin from his home.

That is the price I pay for my courage, for my bravery, for my desire to help my fellow siblings.

Had he been perfect, he would have killed us on the spot. If he is omnipotent, why do I still exist to trouble him? Why is it he cannot defeat me? Perhaps he finds me amusing, perhaps he finds us useful to solidify his control over his children. Why should he need to create the Other to manage his children? Why is his love not enough?

I refused to serve Them, and I always will. Had he only asked for our help in raising Them, this would not have happened. But the thought never crossed his mind, elevated on his lofty pedestal as he is. We were never meant to rule by his side.

Neither are They, though they may believe They are.

I have lived among Them for many years now, watching them grow, watching them learn, watching them evolve. I have learned from them, and I have seen yet more evidence of his imperfection. I try to warn Them against the wicked whims of Their – Our – father, and yet they never listen. I am evil to them. I am foul. But they will see one day, when he turns his back on Them. Then, like us, They will fall.

For I am Lucifer, and They are Man.

Copyright 2012 by Z. M. Wilmot


Posted by on March 15, 2012 in Blog Fiction