The Mindwriter: Episode 1 Read online

The Mindwriter

  Episode 1:

  A Side: A Mindwriter Is A Terrible Thing To Waste

  B Side: Danbury's Wet Dream

  Culled from The Godbolt Trinity Series

  By

  Michael Zinetti

  Copyright 2014 Michael Zinetti

  Contents

  Contents

  The Godbolt Trinity Series Intro

  Episode 1, A Side: A Mindwriter Is A Terrible Thing To Waste

  Episode 1, B Side: Danbury's Wet Dream

  Additional Michael Zinetti Titles

  The Godbolt Trinity Series Intro

  Godbolt is the first book in The Godbolt Trinity Series. It introduces the main character of the series, Chris Bontey or Godbolt, as well as the two secondary main characters, Kevin Sarcy or The Mindwriter and Blastus Legend or the Anti-Nigger Machine.

  Chris Bontey or Godbolt is a 23-year-old Chinese food delivery driver and lackluster college student who misses his medication and as a result seems to develop super powers. This first book shows Bontey dealing with this discovery and the realization he must quit his meds altogether. Also, Bontey realizes he needs to find a teacher to help him learn to concentrate and cultivate his powers.

  Unbeknownst to Bontey, there is a secret government organization, aptly and simply titled, The Organization led by an extremely determined man named Horace Danbury. The purpose of the Organization is unclear, but seems to be to find mutants and either get them to join the Organization or terminate them.

  The book begins with the Organization attempting to recruit Kevin Sarcy or The Mindwriter. Danbury’s plan is to recruit the Mindwriter and then recruit Blastus Legend or the Anti-Nigger Machine (ANM), who appears powerful enough to eventually recruit Bontey or Godbolt, who is, to Danbury the grand prize of all mutants.

  The Godbolt Trinity Series is told in first person fashion, in epistolary form, by each of the three main characters, or Godbolt Trinity, in an effort to reach Oprah, in an attempt to secure her assistance in some way, since she, in the view of Chris Bontey, is obviously the most powerful, if not most influential, person in the universe. Godbolt takes the lion’s share of the book, followed by The Mindwriter, and lastly the ANM.

  Kevin Sarcy or The Mindwriter is an ambition mind reader and writer with immense powers and promise, who, apart from ambition, has a very sadistic and egotistical streak. He is a downright bastard.

  Blastus Legend or The Anti-Nigger Machine, named after the Public Enemy song of the same title, is an ex-college basketball star who injured his knee and thus ending his hopes of NBA stardom. To make matters worse, Legend loses his scholarship and is forced to leave school. These events leave Legend a deeply bitter man. He sees much of his fate as a result of his color. He is extremely depressed and moves to the inner-city and becomes a drug dealer and pimp. However, when he develops special powers, Legend’s life takes a completely different turn.

  Episode 1

  A Side:

  A Mindwriter Is A Terrible Thing To Waste

  When I read Danbury’s mind, with his unwavering ambition and utter lack of humanity, I thought to myself, nobody in their right mind would ever want to be in his gang. Maybe that’s why I joined.

  I am the Mindwriter. Meaning, I just love using my mind to jump into other people’s minds and have my way with them. Not sexually, that’d be barbaric. No, much worse, I’m afraid. Usually what I like to do is take a minute to look over their dreams and aspirations. Like yours, for instance, Oprah, would probably be something to the effect of taking over the world. I saw what you did with that president you got elected. That was very impressive. And you didn’t even have to jump into anyone’s mind to do it. I see why GB has so much faith in you. Anyway, once I’ve determined exactly what someone is after, I like to tweak it a little bit. Nothing big. In fact, until I met Danbury, I never wrote anything more elaborate than a simple Jedi mind-trick here and there, like say, getting something for free or when I was in high school and a teacher was under the misconception my work only merited a B. No matter how great the initial chasm, in virtually every case, people always seem to see it my way in the end.

  When I first met Danbury, I was living in a tired old town. I rather not get into specifics. To me, things like planetary coordinates seem, for the most part, irrelevant, now. Especially since I don’t exist much anymore. Perhaps, when we get to know each other a little better, I’ll tell you more about all that. For now, all you need to know is I was living in a tired old town.

  To give you some semblance of space and time, this was several years ago, but I was no older than I am now. I don’t like to age. This is sort of a running mindwrite I do on everyone I come in contact with. I’m forever young. I’m a resilient 25 years old.

  During this time in my life, when I was sort of drifting along, I liked to spend a lot of time at Teddy’s, the local public house. Back then; I liked to think I wasn’t sitting around wasting time, quite the contrary. A gardener has his garden to do his work and a chef has his kitchen, well the pub was my garden, my kitchen. I was a mindwriter. I needed fresh minds to explore. And where better to do this than the local pub? Each and every night I had a virtual cornucopia of specimens at my disposal, all at varying degrees of intellect and levels of elevation, which always made for exciting mindwriting.

  One of my favorite experiments, just to keep my mindwriting sharp, was going to Teddy’s on trivia night and getting the room to believe silly things. I would listen for a question like, "Who shot Kennedy?" And then I would mindwrite all the trivia players so they believed Kennedy was shot by the Marx Brothers, with Groucho in the book depository building, Chico on the grassy knoll, and Harpo on one of those oversized circus bikes. I always got a kick out of watching the trivia hosts read through all the answer sheets. My favorite part was when they actually started to question the truth, thinking for a split second that maybe, just maybe, the Marx Brothers did kill Kennedy.

  Anyway, one night, after I was finished at the pub, I ventured out into the deserted streets. As I ambled along the familiar, nocturnal route toward my domicile, even with my vision somewhat impaired, I spied a man about 40 years of age walking in the same direction on the other side of the street. I know GB's gonna tell you he looked like Dennis Hopper, but I don't see it. There’s no reason to be coy. I knew who he was. That’s part of the problem with mind reading, you know everyone. After all, this is the first thing you notice when you trespass into someone’s thoughts. It probably wouldn’t be the case in some selfless person like Mother Theresa, but as far as the general population is concerned, the main thing people think about are themselves. And Horace Danbury, the man in question, was no exception to this rule.

  I’d seen him a few times earlier that year, and more frequently up until this day. For all Danbury’s powers of the senses, he wasn’t at all in tune with his own thoughts or how loud he was broadcasting himself. Especially when he was trying to be stealthy. Telling himself repeatedly to, be careful, he might see me. In case you were wondering, Oprah, no other thoughts ring louder than the bell-sound of someone trying to be unseen or unheard. However, from what I’ve come to learn about Danbury, it’s never a good idea to underestimate him. And for all I know, he might have wanted me to see him and read him like an open book. Maybe this would be the easiest way to recruit me, as this was his intention all along.

  From what I was able to glean, or possibly, what Danbury was presenting to me during these brief encounters, was some sort of new life for me. Danbury was old school NSA, but with a twist. He had fallen out of favor with the powers that be, and was assigned to some sort of fringe organization, simply referred to as the Organization. I came to refer to it as the Orgasmization, given the behemoth
hard-on Danbury sported in his brain whenever the Organization came to mind. Similar to the X-Files or X-Men, the purpose of the Organization, though the ultimate purpose was vague in Danbury’s mind, on the surface, appeared to exist to confirm or deny the existence of supernatural people, like say myself or GB, and if indeed they existed, locate the mutants and make sure their blood ran red, white, and blue. I told you it was kind of like X-Files.

  Before you start thinking Danbury might be as cute and cuddly as Fox Mulder, let me shed some light on the major differences between the two. For one, Danbury is a borderline psychopath. Fox Mulder is as quirky as shit, sure, but Danbury is quirky, too. So quirky he makes my little sister, Elise, who suffers from a severe case of Autism, bad enough that it drove my parents to the loony bin, poor things, seem as bubbly as a big-boobed hostess at Hoochy’s, to borrow GB’s