Story Time

A while back I had to write up a persona for the “Who Wants to be a Super Hero” show that I was trying out for. Well in my current English class they wanted me to write up a story for a character. What better way then to combine the two ideas. In a fit of creative juices, I wrote out this. The downside is that I didn’t finish until 3am. The character took a bit of a darker turn then I had originally envisioned him, but I like the direction it took. It makes it a little harder on the character and a little more of a mystery.

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It was only a year ago that it happened. I thought it would be simple. Ha! Everyone always thinks that don’t they. It’s a standard procedure, nothing could go wrong, they told me, you will wake up and feel normal. But I didn’t feel normal. For a long while, I didn’t even wake up. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like I ever woke up, like I am in some sort of endless nightmare.

The fog reeks. I can taste it. The mix of smoke factories and the fried food from the pub down the street makes my nostrils feel like they are on fire. Thankfully they have an unlocked wireless connection. I love the 21st century, it seems like every building is on the internet now. This back alley only adds to the offensive smells but it allows me to access what I need without too many stares. I have heard it’s not pretty. Thankfully I have never had to watch the process. Here we are, the witness protection files show the doctor’s new address as two blocks down. I guess he didn’t like the good ol US of A any more and had them hide him out here in Ireland. That’s fine by me, travel is nothing for me now, after what he did. Heh, what he did, the nightmare flows back in waves.

A new government project, Cybernetics, the wave of the future. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of something like that! Here I was, a lowly computer technician fixing stuck keyboards for the Colonels secretaries and installing PowerPoint for different briefers that would come through the Pentagon. When I heard about the program, I did everything I could to ensure I was involved. They needed someone with a strong computer background and a body frame that would show significant improvement. Well, any improvement would be significant to me! To them, I was a perfect candidate, which was fine with me because I was ready for something new.

Snapping out of the haze of memories, I locate the address and start the search for the other information I need. They gave me only 1 gigabyte of storage so I have to be selective. Thankfully, you would be surprised what can fit in the span of 1000 megabytes. The Tao of Jeet Kun Do is only 22 megs. I like to keep that on hand as a “just in case” but I don’t need fighting style right now, I need stealth. A few old texts, transcribed to electronic format of course, discussing ancient ninja techniques on remaining unseen will do nicely. Oh, and there is a new single from Fall Out Boy, might as well grab that while I am here. And now the fun part. I feel the information surge through every one of the wires. My skin turns a little more red and I can feel the heat radiate out. My arms were still wet from the rain so I know there is steam rising from them. I wish I knew what it looked like but I haven’t ever seen it since my eyes are rolled back so far I think I can see the hair on the back of my neck. I don’t think it even hurt this much when this blasted equipment went in. Aww crap, I think I just threw up.

The wires will be run along my arms and legs to “stimulate” the muscles. The memory will be used for basic storage and shouldn’t be noticeable unless directly accessed by the terminal in the back of my neck. The diagrams they were showing me were amazing! As I sat in the office going over the files and pictures I really got tingles in all the places I was seeing on the screen. A series of small wires to be used as antennae would run through the outer part of my ear to access wireless computer systems. The processor was state of the art and would sit at the base of my skull to run this whole intricate system. Simple fiber optics would run to the visual centers of the brain to interpret what I was accessing into what I could see, no, not just see, know. This was every computer geek’s dream. I wouldn’t just be accessing the computer in me, I would be the computer.

The streets are empty now. I am thankful for that. It means that there wasn’t anyone around to hear me if I screamed. I have heard that I do that sometimes when the information gets processed. It’s not all the time of course. If I just need to store something for transit it’s easy. Only when I need to use the info and push it to the rest of me, that’s when it hurts. Now I just need to find this blasted doctor to find out how to get rid of this. I can still taste the vomit as I leave the alley. I think I improved the smell back there. The noise from the pub gets louder as I was down the street. His apartment is above the pub. That will be both a blessing and a curse. I guess it depends on how he reacts to seeing his abomination come back from the dead.

The table is cold. That could have something to do with the serious lack of clothing. They let me keep a towel across my nethers but I am convinced that as soon as I am out that will be gone too. The doc says the procedure should only take a few hours. I think he was joking when he said that, I could swear I saw a smirk. When I think about all of the wires that are going in, I know that the process would take a very, very long time. I wonder what sort of weird dreams I am going to have. Heh.. a weird thought keeps crossing my mind….hope I don’t die.

I decide to check out the pub for a few reasons. First and foremost, my mouth tastes like crap and I need something to help with that. Second being that I should know how many people may interfere with what needs doing. The doc may not react kindly and I surely don’t need a bunch of drunks wandering upstairs to find out what’s going on. Just before walking in, a thought strikes me and I download a few pages on Irish dialect. I wince as it gets pushed to the language center. Knowledge is a little less painful than muscle, but it still stings. I open the door and let the new smells and noise wash over me. I head towards the bar scanning the room as I walk through. “A pint of yer finest cidar lass.” Indistinguishable from the other patrons, she probably thinks I am from around the corner. I turn back towards the room and listen to the sounds of the fiddle player in the corner. I have a new fondness for noise. It’s probably why I keep music in storage. Silence tends to raise my hackles as of late.

Oh dear god, it’s quiet. And why is it so dark. Where am I and Holy crap is it cold! I try and talk but I am so dry. I should try to sit up……OW! Crap that hurt my head. Where the hell am I??… It’s quiet, deathly quiet. Why can’t I talk. Think man think, The last thing I remember was going under the gas. Is this recovery? What happened? Ok, lets just calm down and think about…

SSID BROADCAST: WALTER REED MILITARY MEDICAL CENTER, SIGNAL STRENGTH 87%

What the hell was that…Access that SSID.

WIRELESS CONNECTED, IP ASSIGNED.

Walter Reed? That’s a hospital. Did they take me there..er here? I wonder if there is any record of me.

SEARCHING RECORDS: DAVID GARRIS…….SUBJECT FOUND…..DECEASED…LOCATION: MORGUE LEVEL 2 BAY 37

Pardon? Did that say dead? No, David, that said Deceased, but it’s a hell of a lot LIKE dead. Ok, think think think…. This place is pretty up there with tech, let’s try something. I need to open that bay.

RELEASING LOCK ON BAY 37

Was that a click? A little shove of the feet and the door swings open and a bright white light floods into the small space I am laying in. I look down and, of course, I am naked.

The Cider does the trick of cleaning the palate. The fiddle player finishes up his last tune and walks around to collect donations. I drop in a few euros and flash a smile. He wasn’t that great to be honest but I realize that this is the mans living. The pub starts to empty by the time I pull the last two drops from my glass. With only a few horribly drunk individuals left, and most of them too far gone to even move under their own free will, I slip out the back door to find the staircase to the upper rooms. Wonderful, another back alley. At least this one doesn’t have the remains of the airline food I wolfed down on the flight over. The stairs leading up creak enough to give pause. I can’t alert him to my presence, not yet at least. That means the stairs are out. Thankfully there is a drainage pipe running down from the roof. As I access the information on ninja climbing skills, I feel the electrical shocks run through my muscles. It’s not as bad as the initial push, but enough that it’s not something I want on all the time. I jump a good 4-5 feet and grasp the pipe. Using my arms I start to pull myself up the side of the pub. A year down the road and I am still not used to the idea of this.

First order of business….get out of the box. I slide my way out of the cold storage of bay 37 to find myself in the bright examining room of the morgue. What time is it? Hell, what day is it?

ACCESSING TIME SERVER…..CURRENT DATE: JANURARY 18th 2001

The 18th? I have been out for 3 weeks! I have to get out of here. Next order of business…clothes. It must not be a busy day for the dead folk, no one has come in for a while now. I find some spare clothes in a back office. It looks like our local mortician likes to leave workout sweats here just in case. Ugh, and I thought the morgue area smelled bad. I need a second to think here. What happened to the project? Where is Doctor Richards?

ACCESSING PERSONAL RECORDS: COL. JAMES RICHARDS, MD,

ASSIGNMENT: PENTAGON SPECIAL MEDICAL RESEARCH FACILITY

DURATION: JANURARY 1 1999 TO JANUARY 1 2001

CURRENT LOCATION: CLASSIFIED

Well, I guess that answers that…in a way that it doesn’t answer anything!! Why am I here? Where is the Doc now? Why am I seeing words on my freaking eyeballs transmitted from the computer system? Does this mean the experiment worked? Why does it feel like my skin is burning?? I have to get out of here and find some answers and there is only one person I can think of to give them to me.

Look at him sitting there on his couch watching the tele without a care in the world. It was easy to get into his bedroom. The skylight slipped open with ease. Thanks to the newly downloaded info I was able to drop the fifteen feet and flex the different muscles in my legs on impact so that there was no more sound than the close of the pub door downstairs. Through the crack in the door I can see all the way to the living room. As he wraps up his viewing, I slip back to the chair in the corner. The tele goes off and it’s dead quiet. I hate the quiet. I bring up the new single I download and let it drone in the back of my head. Anything to kill the silence. The door opens and he walks in. He sits on the bed without even seeing me.

“Hi Doc, Miss me?”

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