Just Released, If you have not had a chance to read the short story Samantha's Secret Mind Travel Case Study 1, you may get lost in the travel with the release of The Bluest Eyes. If you have read Samantha's Secret, I am happy to introduce The Bluest Eyes Mind Travel Case Study 2. Enjoy Reading Below.
You can read Samantha's Secret today.
"Where can a guy get a drink and find some night life in this town?"
"It's a little early for drinks and freaks isn't it? Besides why would you be looking for that in a grocery store? If that was a pickup line it is a sorry excuse for an imagination."
"Okay, tell me what you would consider a good pickup line."
"You have the most beautiful blue eyes, when I look into them I see nothing but clear skies."
"That might have worked except you do not have blue eyes."
"Exactly so go and practice your craft on another damsel in distress."
"Wow, I know we are standing in the cold food section,"...
"Take a hint, and go practice your standup routine on someone who likes a comedian and a joker."
"At least help me with my career. Show me where I can find the nearest club, so I can get a few laughs."
"I am sure with your magnetic personality you should be able to attract someone or something more kin to your species."
“Sounds like I need to add some sweet to your sour, have a pleasant evening.”
While he walked away he took one last look, certain that his prey was in some way interested in him.
Looking down at his cart and taking inventory, he concluded that he had everything he had come for.
Making his way to the checkout line he could not shake the feeling that someone was watching him. He could not help but to whisper to himself, "The shoe is on the other foot."
He decided to play it cool and keep his composure, trying to catch the culprits reflection in the window, "Are you in for a long night,” speaking to the cashier.
"No, quitting time is only a few hours away, then it will be a White Zinfandel night."
Watching the digital display as the total continued to rise in value while keeping constant vigilance of his surroundings, he continued to make small talk. "Will you be having your Zin by yourself or is there a significant other?"
"I see you are still practicing your trade."
"Are you looking for some company?" The cashier decided to play along although she knew the handsome stranger was just being friendly.
Turning to his heckler, he asked. “Yes, so, you are ready to hear my spiel now? Have you had a change of heart? Or are you just stalking me?"
"I see you found yourself a blue-eyed surprise," the heckler continued.
Turning back to the cashier he looked into the cashier's eyes. "Very perceptive, Watson,” while looking quickly over his right shoulder and then back to the cashier. “You have the bluest eyes and all I can see is clear skies."
"You had me at Zin, so where is the party." The cashier was certainly flattered.
"Don't forget beautiful, Casanova." The heckler chimed in.
"I will be back for my finally performance tomorrow night." While handing the cashier cash to settle his balance.
“No, I don’t think so, I already had the repeat performance. Still not impressed." The heckler appeared not to be at all interested.
“Well, doll face, I am impressed. Please come again." The cashier could not take her eyes off of the man cake.
"I could grow on you, you really do not know what you are missing." As he rolled his cart out of the door.
Later that evening…
The night club was bumping, the music was loud, the chatter was only drowned out by the music. There was plenty of dancing and drinking and shady deals being made. However, for Nick, the night seemed to be a loss, he had not found what he was looking for. That was until Paul stepped up to the bar.
Nick had been feeling like someone had been watching his every move and he had tried hard not to give the pursuer a hint that he was aware of their presence.
"The names Paul, why is such a handsome guy sitting alone, when there is a club of beautiful people waiting to hook up."
"You are not my type, besides I am not that shallow, I am looking for the right one.” Nick tried to be polite but straight forward.
"The right one, that’s so overrated, and no, I am not interested in holding your family jewels either. But if you are looking for something that could take your mind off of your troubles, I think I have your solution.” Paul glided over Nick’s politeness.
"I appreciate your offer but, I am not in need of artificial delusions that leave me stranded wanting more and the only way I can get it is to sell my soul.” Nick was not looking for synthetic pleasure.
"What I am offering you is way better than drugs, you can almost say a different world and as I know it is completely legal and it is not addictive."
"You have my attention, Paul."
"Excuse me, and your name?”
"Nick is my name. Is this solution on the market? Is there a patent for it? Is this your sales pitch? Is this how you find your clients or potential customers?”
"Nick, I plan on taking it to the next level but I need willing participants to test the product. Barkeep, give my friend another drink on me. Here's my card Nick, and let me introduce you to a friend to keep you company."
Paul waved his hand and as Nick turned to look he was taken back. He could not believe his eyes. He watched, as his breath was taken away, the long hair draped over the broad shoulders and the supremely fit body move in his direction.
"This is Sherri. Sherri meet Nick."
“Well, hello blue eyes.” Nick breathed a short sentence.
"What a coincidence, what a small world, I see you have not found the comedy club yet.” Sherri smiled.
"You two have met?” Paul feinted amusement.
"Let's just say the cold section in the grocery store can get really cold," said Nick.
"Nick, I have some more people to talk to. If you are interested in what we were talking about, Sherri will be more than happy to bring you by my place to give you some more insight into this ground breaking product."
Paul disappeared into the crowd.
"So, can we have a real conversation without you throwing jabs?" Nick dodged to the left and right like a drunk Muhammad Ali.
"That depends on whether you can treat me as a lady and not some prey you are stalking and moving in for the kill.” Sherri appeared to let her guard down.
"Fair enough," as Nick lifted the drink that Paul had bought him.
"You want to get out of here?" Sherri asked.
"Sure, where to? A late nite comedy club.” Nick was not ready to let Sherri off the hook.
"Let's start with a walk in the park. You can tell me about yourself, and I promise not to hurt your feelings.” Sherri flipped her hair.
Nick downed the rest of his drink, tipped the bartender and smiled.
Outside, the streets were teaming with people. Nick was enamored and distracted by Sherri and her long flowing dark brown hair. He answered ever question that her voluptuous lips produced.
They walked without direction, it appeared neither cared where the destination was.
"Can we find a place where we can sit for a spell? I am not feeling quite myself.” Nick was fighting to keep his concentration, but trying not to show that something was wrong.
"What's the matter? You can't handle your alcohol? How many drinks did you have?” Sherri was inquisitive.
"I only had two drinks. Maybe you have cast a spell on me. I have not felt right since meeting you in the grocery store. The girl's put a spell on me.” Nick spoke what was on his mind.
The two found their way onto a ledge and continued to talk. They talked for what seemed like hours.
The conversation was interrupted by a scream and then a loud noise that sounded like a gunshot.
"You stay here, I will go check and see if anyone is hurt.” Nick perked up.
Nick looked over the ledge and saw a young lady laying on the ground.
Sherri exclaims, "What happened?"
"Hey, Nick, you should come down here. I think she is dead.” A voice shouted.
"What happened?” Nick yells, “How do you know my name?"
"Ah come on Nick, you know what happened. Come on down here,” the voice shouted back.
"Paul, is that you?” Nick was confused.
"Nick, how are you feeling? Are you ready to experience a life altering experience that you will never forget? Well, at least some of it."
Paul takes out his cellphone
"911, what is your emergency?”
"I think I just saw a guy kill a young lady. He is tall, light-skinned, wearing a beige jacket, black khakis."
"What is your location?"
"You need to hurry. He is picking up the body," Paul waves a gun in the air and aims it at Nick.
"Sir, what is the location?"
"Nick, I do not know what is going on but we need to get out of here," Sherri looked worried and scared.
"I thought you knew this guy," Nick said.
"We only met a few hours ago. We need to go." Sherri was feeling frantic.
“Sherri, why don’t you bring Nick on down here, and let me thank you for playing along.” Paul insisted.
The two start to flee.
"Sir, what is your location?” The operator kept speaking.
"6133 Harry Hogan St you need to hurry he is carrying the body away."
"What is going on here Sherri?" Nick was looking for answers.
Sherri falls to the ground in agony and grabs her ankle.
"Nick, I need help. I think I twisted my ankle."
Nick turns back to assess the damage, "Can you stand?"
"I will try.” Sherri stands but cannot bare the weight she grimace, "You are going to have to help me."
Nick picked her up and hoist her over his shoulder.
"My apartment is near by. We can call the police from there and tell them what is going on.” Sherri exclaimed.
As they ran past a guy.
Sherri mouthed to the guy, "Help me."
That guy dialed 911, "I would like to report a guy running with a lady over his shoulder she looks like she is in trouble."
"What is your location?”
Nick and Sherri reached her apartment.
Once inside Nick puts Sherri on the couch.
He begins to question her, "So you met Paul earlier, when earlier?"
"You mean you do not know Paul? He said you were good friends. And he wanted to play a practical joke on an old friend.” Sherri looked surprised.
"I just met him a couple of hours ago, at the bar." Nick stopped and at that moment realized the impossible was happening to him.
"We need to call the police. We really need to call the police." Sherri was insistent.
Nick pulled out his phone.
There was a knock at the door.
"You expecting someone?" Nick went to hide behind the door.
"Answer it. I am calling the police."
Nick was on the phone, "I would like to report a homicide."
Nick felt a sharp pain as he landed on the floor.
When the detectives arrived they found a slain woman on the floor and Nick semi-conscience.
The detective asked, “Do you know this women?"
Nick looked at the women, he said, "It's not her, she's dead."
"What do you mean it's not her?" The detective asked.
"That's the girl that was killed in the alleyway by Paul. Where is Sherri?" Nick exclaimed.
"Sherri who? Who is Sherri, and if this is not Sherri, who is this?” Asked the other detective.
"I have such a headache, check her ID. Have you checked her ID?” Nick felt as if he had been drugged.
"We are asking the questions here. Let's start with your name." The first detective asked.
"Its Nick and I know what this looks like but I did not kill anyone. I am being setup."
"If you did not kill anyone then who is lying on the floor?" The detective was trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
"I do not know. Ask Sherri, this is her apartment." Nick was stunned.
"Negative chief, try again. The landlord says the apartment is being rented by Lois Delroy." The detective was really working over the piece of gum in his mouth.
"Henson, I believe this is Lois Delroy," as the other detective held up a picture that resemble the dead woman on the floor.
"Get me a state ID picture of Lois Delroy." Henson barked at an officer standing near by.
Nick had not noticed until now that there was something wrong with his arm, he begin to rub it.
He was still feeling light headed.
"So, what is Sherri's last name Nick?" Henson was becoming irritated.
"I do not know, I just met her." Nick was now grasping the reality of Henson's questions.
"Who is Paul and what is his last name?"
"I do not know I just met hi...," Nick paused.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? What's your relationship to the victim then? Do you know that?" Henson started to drill down with his questioning.
"Detective, I think you ought to arrest me." Nick needed a level playing ground.
"Why, Nick, did you kill Lois? Did you do something wrong?" The other detective wanting to get in on the interchange.
"I did not kill anyone, but I will not answer anymore questions. Just read me my rights." Nick was trying to put his memories together.
"Ok, tough guy. Search him and cuff him and get me his ID. Let's see who this guy really is." Henson was perturbed.
"What do we have here, Nick? You like to get a little right before you knock someone off? I hope you have a permit for that gun also?” Henson cocked his head to the side like a chastising parent.
As Detective Johnson laid two small pouches of white powder on the table and held up a gun.
"That's not mine it was planted." Nick insisted.
"Oh now you want to talk," Henson taunted while receiving a shield along with nicks ID.
"Detective Nick Carter, what have you been up to in my district? Aren't you a little out of your territory Detective?"
"Like I said I am not answering anymore questions at this time." Nick's head was pounding. This was not the sort of headache you got from two drinks.
"As you wish. Take Detective Nick Carter to a place he is more familiar with. We will get our answers at the station. He should feel right at home." Henson became weary of the cat and mouse, question and answer session.
"Finish sweeping the crime scene, I want everything documented, leave no hair undisturbed." Henson looked at the body one last time.
"You need to also sweep 6133 Harry Hogan Street, there is something about that location I cannot remember." Nick spoke again.
"For a guy that does not want to answer questions you sure make a lot of statements." Henson spoke with a smirk.
"Just do it," Nick said as the police escorted him out of the door.
"This is a cop's worst nightmare," one of the uniformed officers spoke.
"You bet. I would not want to be in his shoes," his partner said with regret.
Nick looked down at his shoes as he tries to shake off the nightmare and cloudy memory.
"On second thought, boys, let's take another trip to 6133 Harry Hogan Street, before taking the suspect downtown." Detective Johnson spoke up.
At 6133 Harry Hogan, the investigation continued...
"Is this a wild goose chase? We do not even know what we are looking for. As far as I am concerned, we have our suspect in custody." Henson snarled.
"I just think we should give a fellow detective the benefit of the doubt before ruining his career," Rollin continued to survey the alley.
"Yeah, a fellow detective with a drug problem. Did you see the look in his eyes? He was stoned more than Ancient Rome." Henson thought he was being clever.
"Yes, but he said the drugs were not his and that he did not kill anyone. So, we should investigate before casting stones." Rollin Johnson took every part of his job serious. He was a new detective.
"You do not believe that tv stuff do you, rookie?" Henson said that to remind Rollin who the top dog was.
"No, but a lot of truth can be found in a writer's imagination." Rollin got the hint.
"We need to wrap this up. We have the suspect to question." Henson knew the answers to this case would start with Nick.
Back at the station in the interrogation room...
"Let me get this straight. You do not know the victim?" Henson was standing with his hands on the table.
"You don't know this Sherri person that you yourself brought up and mentioned?"
“No, I mean Yes, kind of."
"And you do not know the accused, this Paul fella? Which, by the way, you are the one accusing him." Henson sounded off.
"Tell us, why were you in the victims apartment, I mean Lois' apartment?" Detective Johnson asked.
"We needed a safe place to call the police." Nick answered.
"Who? You and Lois? Henson barked.
"Yes, No, Lois and... I mean Sherri and, we needed the police." Nick was getting more and confused.
Nick tried not to rub his arm, but the itching was really distracting him.
"Yes, why don't you tell us why you were calling the police? Were you feeling guilty, was it an accident?" Johnson's questions were more effective.
"I told you, I did not kill anyone. How did she die anyway?” Nick was experiencing problems with his memory. The truth and the facts were becoming more and more distorted.
"You were there, you tell us, detective. We have eye witnesses who saw you running with the body." Henson raised his voice.
"That's not possible, she was alive when we were running." Nick was not making any good since.
"When did she die? When you got her to the apartment? Is that when you finished the job? Is that when you killed Lois Delroy?" Henson went on the attack like a rabid dog with a rabbit in his mouth.
Nick rubbed the back of his head. “I do not know, my memory is still fuzzy. It is like I am dreaming."
"So you have a case of amnesia? Or is it the drugs blocking those misfiring dendrites? This is not a dream, you have a dead young lady to answer for. You are the worst of us.” Henson was being very demeaning.
"I told you the drugs are not mine. I do not know what happened.This cannot be happening. I did not kill anyone." Nick continue with his defense.
"Then you will not mind showing us that arm you are so worried about. Come on, detective, don't be shy. We are all big boys here." Henson pointed to the arm that Nick kept massaging.
Nick was hesitant to roll up his sleeve, but he knew there was no use resisting. As he rolled up his sleeve, he exposed a swelling that surrounded what appeared to be a needle prick.
"Just what I thought, a junkie. Why not just admit you were in my district to buy some smack so you could get lit? And the whole thing went wrong." Henson was in Nick's face.
"I did not do this, someone stuck me." Nick was trying to make since of it all.
"We'll see what the Tox screen has to say. We are going to get the answers out of you one way or the other." Henson began to walk towards the door.
The two detectives left the interrogation room
Rollin looked at Henson, "You know there was only one prick."
“Well, if he is a junkie would he not have more tracks on his arm?" Johnson stated.
"Don't tell me you are buying this, 'I am being setup, alibi'." Henson smirked.
"We need to be looking at all of the angles. Closed minds equal mistakes and mistakes lock up the innocent while the guilty go free. Besides, let's see what the autopsy says. Did you order a Tox screen for Lois Delroy also?" Johnson took a short breathe.
"What do you think, that I am some kinda rookie? Of course I did, besides that's our next stop." Henson knew it did not add up, but lack of cooperation from the detective on the other side of the door was insufferable.
Nick heard the whole conversation.
In the Lab, Detective Henson was being disconnected from the apparatus that had taken him for a ride he would never forget.
“He will need to be held accountable to the people, to the courts, to justice.”
“How can you say such a thing? This man has been accountable to all of the above for most of his life? Not to mention he was undercover and investigating the death of Vincent Voss the CEO of VRI." Nick's chief was put on the defense.
"I will admit the exacting evidence and how his investigation coincides with that of our victim, Lois Delroy, working for the same company and this being such a high profile case. It wreaks with the putrid stench of a setup, but justice cries out for justice sake." Henson's chief has never been accused of having his head stuck in the sand.
The chiefs of the perspective precincts were discussing the fate of detective Nick Carter.
“I did tell you this procedure has only been used on patients diagnosed with a mental illness, or disease and it is most unusual that detective Carter would lose the ability to recall these crucial memories." The man with the lab coat on was being cautious as to the results of the experiment.
"So, why can't he remember," asked Henson.
"This is some type of virtual drug that gives the perception of memory loss, it blocks the connection between recall and storage. Fortunate for us the brain stores these memories so even though we cannot recall them they are protected like data on an encrypted hard drive.” Doctor Conway apprehended the opportunity to flex his knowledge.
“Yes, but can the data be used to clear his name, it is his only hope to avoid certain and indefinite incarceration.” Nick's chief inserted.
“Our surrogate is truly trustworthy, and he will accurately portray the truth I assure you.” The other chief spoke.
“Yes, but he has had it in for Nick from the beginning. Your own guy detective Johnson said as much." Nick's chief was uncertain of the surrogate. “Tell me again, Doc. Why could we not use a computer?”
“Because, and this is putting it simply, the brain needs what no computer or simulation can offer, the human touch.”
“I can vouch for detective Carter; besides I have seen the digital evidence first hand.” Detective Henson was befuddled.
"What are you saying Henson?” Henson's chief spoke first.
"Her eyes, they were green." Henson spoke.
"What are you talking about?” Nick's chief spoke.
"The most beautiful green eyes you will ever see. And the girl who owns those eyes and Paul are still out there. We must find them. We can start with the bartender at the Club Vista he put something in detective Carter's second drink the drink Paul ordered for him. From there the guy did not stand a chance. Doc, please tell Nick when you pull him off of your machine, that I am sorry. And that I saw the most beautiful blues eyes, when I look into them I see nothing but clear skies.”
Outside the facility Henson and Johnson looked at the sign.
Rollins looked at Henson and spoke, "are you going to tell me what went on in there?"
"This science is unbelievable, our work as detectives will either become very easy or obsolete. And this prototype of the VR tech that Virtual Reality Inc is working on will replace the technology the world has become so familiar with, it will change our reality as we know it." Henson looked at the sign again.
The sign could not have been more descriptive.
Center for Neurology and Brain Exploration
Founded by Samantha and Samuel Conway
Inside was a thriving research facility like no other. It housed a research team as well as patients. All were aware of the goal and mission.
To understand the marvel known as the Brain.
The building itself was a marvel, it appeared to be made mostly of glass. This would, no doubt, account for it being one level. However, the mind’s eye would give into the illusion that, at first, it was a small facility until you took that second look. The second look would reveal a building that must have been at least a half mile wide. The depth of the building could not be determined because of the width. The walkway was a mixture of stone, marble, wood and grass.
As the sun shined on the building, it produced an image that appeared to be cloaked.
Let me know what you think. Just click one of the links below and leave a post, tweet or leave a comment here.