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. . . . . . . . . . .

a fork left . . . . .

what . . . . . . . ?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

i can’t see

 

 

it’s all too white . . .

turn off the light. please.

no

it’s too heavy. i can’t breathe.

please.

i don’t know . . . . .

i don’t remember where i am.

who is i?

what is am?

please.

help me.

someone turn off the light.

i can’t . . . . . do it right now . . . . . .

 

**********

 

Ahhhhhhhh, you’re c . oming around .

what?

“I said, ‘Ah, you’re coming around.’ You can speak, right?”

oh.

wh . . . .

ow.

“Please, relax. You’ve had a rough time.”

These weights on me hurt too much. I’m too heavy.

“You’re just weak. You’ve been sleeping for days.”

days?

sleeping?

“This is the first time I’ve seen you awake for almost awake.”

what?

“A week. It’s been a week since i’ve seen u awakje’

ohhhhhhhhhhh

‘rest, please the answers will come we can try aagain whgenyohgurebhedhtter . . .’

.

 

 

 

 

 

**********

 

it’s too bright . . . . .

“Will you be able to stay with me this time?”

i don’t know. could you turn off the light, please?

“Uh . . . . . . . I don’t think that would do much good.”

why?

“Your eyes are closed.”

. . . . . . . . . oh.

it hurts. can you make it stop?

“What do you see that hurts so much?”

i don’t know . . . . .

it’s . . . . . . . i can see a shape . . . . . .

is it you?

“ . . . . . .”

are you there? i can hear you moving, but it looks like you’re standing still.

what does it mean?

“Hold on a moment . . . . . . .”

it’s becoming clearer. I couldn’t make you out before, it was too bright, but now I can almost . . .

.

..

what’s wrong?

“I have to give you something. You must be hallucinating.”

what? Why? I can almost see you . . . . .

!

OW!

What was that?!!

“Something tio helf you sleep . . . .’

wa it . . .n . no . . . .

.

 

**********

 

. . . . . . .

“You cannot pretend. I can tell when you’re awake.”

. . . . why did you do that to me?

“I am a doctor. I know what I’m doing.”

doctor?

“Yes. And you were getting hysterical. You were stressing your body before it was ready to handle being awake. You could have damaged yourself further.”

. . . . . . .

“And you’re welcome.”

Huh? Oh, sorry. I was . . . . . thinking . . . . .

“Really . . . . . about what?”

I don’t know.

About nothing, I guess.

. . . . . . i can’t remember anything . . . . .

“What was that?”

I said . . . . . .

I can’t remember anything.

I don’t know who I am.

I don’t know how I got here.

“Hmmm . . . . . .”

What’s wrong with me?

“I’m not too sure. I don’t have the equipment to examine you properly, and my old medical lab was damaged. It’s possible you have short-term memory loss.”

. . . . . . . .

“Hey, are you hungry?”

Ha ha, why yes I am. My stomach rumbled just as you said that.

“Yes, I think I heard it, actually.”

Ha ha ha.

Do you think I can walk?
“I think you might. Try it out.”

.

Whoa.

“Hmm, actually, I have a chair with wheels right here. We’ll use that instead.”

Good idea.

 

***********

 

Mmmm.

“Jogging anything?”

Maybe. If I have some more . . . . . .

“Hah! Sure. Here, you can have my plate . . . .”

Thanks!

Aren’t you hungry?

“No, I had some breakfast this morning. I think I’ll be ok.”

Ok.

“So . . . . . remember anything yet?”

Mmmm.

Not yet.

My head still feels . . . . . turned off.

“Turned off?”

Well . . . . more like . . . on, but . . . not working. Like I’m only receiving white noise. Like static. Every moment the picture gets clearer, but the change is so small that I don’t notice.

“. . . . . .”

Mmmm.

“You know, you must have been a really smart kid.”

Thanks.

“Sonic. Call me Sonic.”

He he. Doctor Sonic?

“. . . . . . . . sure . . . . . .”

 

***********

 

“Are you feeling okay?”

A little tired.

“Just let me know if you feel too drowsy.”

Don’t attack me with drugs and I think I’ll be fine.

“Yes, I’m sure you will.”

. . . .

Hey, something’s been bothering me.

Why do you look so weird?

“. . . . I’m not sure what you mean.”

You just . . . .

You looked funny. The shadow I saw of you, anyway. The outline was all oddly shaped and out of proportion.

“I thought we discussed this already, but I’ll take that as a compliment anyway, kiddo.”

. . . . .

“And besides, you’re one to talk.”

Huh?

“Well . . . . . Oh! You haven’t seen yourself yet, have you?”

Um, no, not yet.

Hey!

Slow down. It’s not that big of a deal.

Whoa . . . .

“Okay. I am going to take the bandage off your head now. It may be best if open your eyes very slowly.”

Okay . . . . . .

. . . . . . .

“There. All the way off.”

It’s bright here.

“Yes, well, we’re in direct light.”

What am I about to see?

“Well, hopefully, when you see yourself, your memory with start to come back. And then we can discover where you came from.”

Makes sense.

“Ready?”

. . . . . . . Yeah.

That’s me?

“Yep.”

And that’s . . . . . . you?

. . . . . .

“What’s wrong?”

i . . . . . .

you . . . . . .

“Are you okay?”

Yeah, I’ll be fine in a few minutes.

It’s just . . . . . .

I look so strange.

“Yes, you were injured rather badly in . . . .”

No, not that. Just . . . . in general.

“You sure you’re okay? Do you want the bandage back on?”

No. It’s fine.

Really.

“As you wish.”

. . . . .

Can we leave now?

“Sure.”

 

**********

 

What happened to me?

“. . . . . I found you in a giant pile of rubble.”

Rubble?

“Yes. One of the buildings that we had constructed was blown up. While my friends and I were searching for survivors, we found you.”

Whoa.

“That’s an understatement.”

What caused the explosion?

“Well . . . . . . we’re not sure yet . . . . .”

Where are all the survivors?

“. . . . . . . .”

Well?

“. . . . . . . . They were all in critical condition. We had to take them to someone who knew how to fix them.”

You couldn’t do it?

“. . . . . . . No.”

Why not?

“Because . . . . . . I’m not good enough.”

Huh?!

“I can’t do everything that I want, you know. I can’t save everyone, and . . . . . there were just too many. They were just too messed up. And . . . . . ”

. . . . . . .

“I guess I just have to accept the fact that I’ll just never be as good as I probably should be. I guess . . . . the only question left is, do you trust me with a needle?”

I do.

In fact, I think you’re a swell doctor.

“Well, I think you’re a swell patient.”

He he.

. . . . . . .

So, you live here, then . . . .

“That’s an affirmative.”

With all of your friends?

“Yeah.”

Well, where are they?

“To the north a ways. They should be back as soon as everyone is taken care of.”

Oh.

What is this place called?

“A hospital.”

No, I mean, what’s its name?

“. . . . . . . . . Knothole County Hospital.”

. . . . . . . .

Never heard of it.

“Really? Hmm. It’s quite popular.”

Sorry. Never heard that name before.

“Hmm. Well, you must come from a very small town, then . . . .”

He he, I wouldn’t know.

“Of course not. But anyway, yes, I live here in the forest with all of my friends.”

In this forest?

This doesn’t look like a forest.

“Well, the forest is outside, actually.”

. . . . . . No.

You’re lying.

“Look, how can you be so sure of yourself anyway?”

. . .

“I mean, you can’t remember anything, so how can you know what anything is? You’re not . . . . faking, are you?”

Shut up.

I just know.

“Do I have to report you to the Knothole Forest Council?”

Stop it.

“Oh, I see. Here, you can be the doctor now, since you know everything . . .”

LEAVE ME ALONE!!!

I JUST KNOW, OKAY?!

 

 

whoa.

oh no . . .

“Are u ok….?!@?!’

he . . . . l . . . p

 

 

 

 

 

**********

 

A fork left.

what does that even mean?

I can see you. I can see you.

but you look

nothing

like you do.

 

so

 

 

who

 

 

 

are

 

 

 

 

you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

?

 

 

**********

 

. . . . . .

i’m . . . . . awake again

“I know. You gave me quite a scare back there.”

did I . . . . . black out?

“Afraid so, kiddo. Too much stress on the old noggin.”

listen.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for getting so upset.

“It’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot.”

Even so, I shouldn’t have let it get to me.

“Well, I’m sorry too. I have this bedside manner that can grate on my patients’ nerves . . . .”

My memory is unreliable anyway, and anything I say could easily be a lie.

Man.

I don’t even know who I am.

That image of myself did nothing for me.

I’m a complete stranger.

“Easy, easy. Don’t start with this again. You don’t want to permanently injure yourself. Let‘s just . . . forget about it.”

Okay.

I’ll be careful.

“It’s all I’d ever ask of you.”

. . . . .

So.

Is there anything you do know about me?

“Well, most of what I know is from experience, and you don’t look like anyone I’ve seen before. My friends also did not recognize you. How you ended up at the building I have no idea.”

Hmm.

“Are you sure you don’t remember anything?”

I’m sure.

I still can’t think very well either.

I don’t feel right . . . . .

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

No, it’s not like that.

It’s more of a lingering problem.

Like . . . . . . the only thing that exists is this conversation.

My thoughts . . . . .

What I’m thinking is unknown to me.

“. . . . . . . Tell me more about the shape.”

The shape?
“The shadow. What you saw earlier.”

Hmmm.

Well . . . . . .

 

 

It’s like a well defined black blob.

Like a giant ball.

But it has these weird things on the outside of it.

“Weird like how?”

Like . . . .

“Like arms?”

Not quite.

They’re . . . . different.

“. . . . . . .”

And that’s all.

“Nothing else?”

Nothing.

“What do you think it is?”

No

idea.

But it may be something important.

“Hmmm.”

So, what exactly is wrong with me?

“Besides the memory loss, nothing much anymore. When we found you, however, that was an entirely different story.

 

You had several abrasions on your skin and fur. Third degree burns covered much of your hair and skin, but nothing that couldn’t be grafted from my lab. You had various broken limbs, and several had to actually be removed in order to be healed properly. You spent two weeks with no bones in your chest whatsoever . . . .”

Wait, two months?!

“Yes.”

I was out for two months?!

“. . . . . . . . . No.”

. . . . . . . .

“Afre u ok?”

i . . . . .2 . . . .months . . . . .

i dont believe it

“Pelaes, calm down.”

i

I

I got it

“No, I think you should go to bad.”

No, please

I can handle this.

“No, I can’t do that. We can’t risk . . .”

Risk what exactly?

“. . . . . . . Brain damage.”

How can I risk brain damage? I’m already pretty messed up in the head, wouldn’t you say?!

“Calm down.”

Only if you let me stay up.

Every time I go under I feel like I lose an important part of me.

What’s left of me.

Please, put the needle down.

“. . . . . . . .”

Thank you.

Go on.

“. . . . . . Now, please . . . . . stay with me on this.

 

 

The extent of your injuries were minimal, and could be easily repaired. But . . . . . .”

What?

“You had sustained one of the worst head injuries I had ever seen in my entire career. It looked like the entire left side was caved inward. Blood loss was minimal, thank goodness, but brain damage was indiscernible at the time. My friends and I then brought you by stretcher to this lab, and after twelve hours in surgery, your condition was finally stable.”

Caved in?

“Yes.”

And . . . .

And how long ago was that?

“. . . . . About fifteen months.”

o.h god . . . . . .

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry . . . . .”

please . . . . just . . . . .

what else do you know?

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

like, what about the explosion?

What caused it?

“We still can’t tell. It looks like a possible malfunction in the power generator had caused a chain reaction in the fuel cells, moving along floor by floor, until . . . . until there was nothing left. The entire building was obliterated . . . .”

My God.

Were there a lot of people inside?

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

. . . . . . . . How many survived?

“. . . . . I don’t know. Very few, I’m sure. It’s very possible that some are still alive. It would explain why my friends have not returned yet. So, there’s still room for hope.”

. . . . . .

Any family?

“. . . . . .”

“Yes.”

I’m sorry.

“It’s been . . . . . difficult for me, to say the least. When you’re a doctor, you have to block a lot of things out. Important things. Emotions. Things like remorse, and . . . . . sorrow, and pity. It’s a necessity, really. It’s important to maintain. So, every time I see someone’s face, someone that I love, and they’re battered and bruised and hanging by only a thread . . . . . I feel nothing. No matter how hard I try, I can’t bring myself to care.”

Man.

I shouldn’t have asked. I apologize.

“Eh. It’s alright.”

Hmmm.

Were you there when it happened?

“I didn’t have to be.”

. . . . . . .

What does that mean?

“Nothing. Don’t you think it’s time for you to rest?”

No. Tell me. What did you mean?

 

**********

 

“Like I said, the building was completely annihilated. Over the following months, excavation teams tried to find the bodies of those who were reported missing, but they found nothing. No traces of tissue, bone, or anything identifiable. All of the graves were buried with empty caskets.

“Scattered throughout the building were these video cameras, recording different angles of important storage units. Their purpose was to monitor the areas where valuable materials could be stolen. Medical supplies, hallucinogenic drugs, needles, patient records, so on, so forth, all that. Now, the tapes for these surveillance were not in the hospital, but in a separate building altogether, since in today’s society, there are a lot of cyber-terrorists going around. Electronic hackers, that sort of thing.”

I see.

“Anyway, I have reviewed the footage from the day that it happened, and I honestly cannot find anything that alludes to the cause of the explosion.”

Am I on the tape?

“. . . . . .”

Well?

“Yes. Yes you are.”

Show me.

 

 

 

“Alright.”

Ready.

“Okay . . . . . here we go . . . . . this is a shot of the main medical corridor, empty. Here is a shot of the second floor rehab wing, also empty . . . . .”

This is a hospital?

“Yeah, why?”

Hmmm.

It seems . . . .

Empty.

“Yes, there is a reason for that. There was a bomb threat called in earlier that day, and the hospital was evacuated. Everyone, of course, assumed that it was another prank, so they started to venture back inside, and . . . . .”

.

Boom.

“Indeed.”

Whoa . . . . .

“Okay, here is the first floor laundry room. As you can see, the camera stays fixed on this point for quite some time. The only reason this should happen is if there is movement, but I honestly don’t see anything . . . . .”

Hmmm.

“And here you are. See?”

Yes . . . . .

What am I doing?

“Actually, I was hoping you could shed some light on that.”

Well, I can’t.

“As I expected.”

What do you think I’m doing?

“Hmm. Well, as you can see, even from the zoom, it’s hard to tell, but from what I can discern, you’re setting a digital clock to a different time, or at least tampering with it in some way. And then . . . . right here . . . . . . . you run off frame . . . . and a few seconds later, the explosion.”

. . . . . .

“And here, we can see from this angle that you are thrown off of your feet, indicating a massive, foundation shaking blast. Tapes of the entrances show that other patients mimic the same movement. See? Up, and to the right.”

. . . . . . .

“Right about here, the building starts to shudder, the walls very visibly shaking and cracking. If you look closely you can see the floor actually completely separate from the walls.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

“Let’s see . . . . . . . okay, here, see the way your body is positioned. This is not how we found you, and the reason is that there was a second explosion that actually brought all three stories of the hospital in on itself. It’s here where the camera is destroyed, just as the image of everything being crushed in on itself starts to occur.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“You fall from view, and it ends. Just like that. Nothing more.”

man.

this is . . . . . .

awful.

Horrible.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve viewed these things, but I probably know each frame by heart. And I can tell you in full confidence that they have nothing left to show.”

 

**********

 

You know, I still can’t remember anything.

“It’s bothering you?”

In the worst way.

“Join the club. I feel like if I don’t get you to remember things soon, that it’s just another indication that I can’t fulfill my obligations as a doctor.”

And that’s supposed to comfort me?
“Not exactly. It’s only the truth.”

Ha.

Truth.

I suppose I need a lot of that.

“Everyone does. It’s a common ground that lives within all beings. The pursuit of their own personal truths. So, I guess, we can almost say that everyone shares a common bond: the undeniable craving for closure. You could also say that this means you’re starting to return to normal, even if it’s only instinctual.”

A step in the right direction, right?

It feels more like a step to nowhere.

I still feel more lost than ever.

Isn’t there anything else you can show me?

“. . . . . . . . . . No.”

Are you sure?

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Hmmm.

Why don’t I believe you?

“Uh . . . . . . you used to be a bad judge of character?”

Don’t get cute with me, Doctor.

Tell me.

Show me.

More of that pursuit of knowledge thing, I guess you could say . . . . .

Isn’t that right?

I want to know what I haven’t seen yet.

And I want you to show me.

“Fine.”

“But don’t say I never warned you.”

 

**********

 

“The following is a recording of the direct moments after the patients were brought in to the surgery room. I apologize for the low quality; it’s because at the time we were running on backup generators, so the lighting and focus on the cameras were deactivated.”

What exactly am I about to see?

“More than you asked for.”

 

 

“Here is your stretcher being brought in from the bottom corner. As you can see, you were brought in by all of my friends, since we placed you on priority. While they went to recover those that they could, I worked on you alone.

“This is the initial incision over the broken skull fragment on the left parietal lobe. As you can see the skin is not all the way broken and in order for me to set the bones I had to remove a significant portion of your hair and skin. What is left is this . . . .”

.

“Next, artificial cerebral fluid was pumped into the empty cranial cavities, meant to maintain your neural activity for the duration of the reconstruction. That done, I began to carefully pick pieces of debris out of your brain tissue. Here you can see a nicely jagged edged one that managed to lodge itself in your hippocampus, and it may have been the cause of your memory loss, if not, then the trauma and nerve damage did enough.”

.stop.

“The rest of your injuries were easily repaired; you can see here where I remove your ribcage and place it in cold storage. The surgery went on without a hitch. That is, until you started screaming.”

.oh god.makeitstop.

“There must have been a leak somewhere else that I missed, because you began exhibiting the strangest behavior. See? Your eyes open and you start talking to me.”

.

w(*h(%at am i sa)*$^ying?

“Mostly gibberish. A lot I couldn’t understand, and what I did catch made no sense.”

.

.

“On no!”

.

.

.

.

.

“enough!!!11”

 

**********

 

there you are again

only now

i know

i know what you are

dont i

?

 

**********

 

“We can’t keep meeting like this.”

Cute.

Really.

“Something the matter?”

Sorry.

Just more than a little frustrated.

“Yes, well, even so, I think you should stay in bed today.”

Can I get a second opinion?

“Afraid not. Doctor’s orders. You’re taking it easy today.”

Gee, thanks.

It’s all I could have ever wanted.

A doctor’s unwanted advice.

I’m gonna have to decline.

“That’s not an option.”

It’s not?

“Nope.”

HEY!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

.

 

**********

 

“You see? That wasn’t so bad.”

‘. . . . . . .’

anger

“Besides, you look a lot better.”

‘I suppose.’

anger

“Come on, you can’t be that angry at me. It was for your own good.”

‘. . . . . . . Fine.’

anger.

“That’s the spirit. Now, how about something to eat?”

 

**********

 

“I’ve never seen someone eat so much food that tastes so bad.”

chomp.

chomp.

swallow.

‘Yes, well, it seems to be working, whatever’s in it.’

“You’re starting to remember things?”

another spoonful.

‘Not yet. But I feel . . . . . . improved in general. I can sort of sense what’s going on a little better. I can think a little more. I can distinguish between actions and words. What I say is no longer the only thing that exists.’

chomp.

chomp.

swallow.

“That’s . . . . excellent.”

‘Mmmhmm.’

swallow.

Burp.

‘Excuse me.’

Laughs.

“It’s quite alright.”

‘Hmmm.’

‘I think I’m full.’

“Okay.”

‘Do you want help cleaning up?’

“No, I think I can handle it. I’m not that useless.”

‘Neither am I.’

“Ha! If you say so.”

Silence.

Uncomfortable.

Grating.

“So . . . . . did you dream last night?”

‘No. Not that I remember. I did, however, dream about the shape again just before you forced me down.’

“And . . . . .?”

‘And again, nothing. It’s just a blurry shape that has no definition. Nothing is sparking.’

“Maybe the pilot light’s out?”

‘Shut up. I warned you about being cute.’

Feeling.

“I know. I can’t help it around you.”

Feelings.

Weird feelings.

Odd.

Strange.

‘So, what are we doing today?’

Not gone.

Heart’s throbbing.

Heat.

Something wrong?

?

“Something that’s not adventurous or stressful on you. You know what happened last time.”

Pretty.

So pretty.

Want . . . . .

Want something . . . . .

‘Come on. I’m not some fragile little flower.’

“Didn’t you say that last time?”

Smiles.

Smile. Coy smile. Smile stupidly back.

Embarrassed.

Feeling fading.

Stupid.

Weak.

Not pretty.

‘Please. I’m a lot better now. Besides, nothing permanent happened, right?’

Pause.

‘Look, if something does happen, you can always stick another needle in me.’

Try smile again.

Sighs. “Fine.”

‘Thanks!’

Sighs again. “What do you want to do?”

‘Well . . . . .’

Think.

Think.

‘Give me a tour.’

“. . . . . That’s all?”

‘A tour of the entire building.’

“No problem.”

‘AND . . . . . I want to see the outside world.’

“ . . . . . . . .”

‘The forest, you know?’

“Yes, I know what you’re talking about. And I’m against it.”

Tingling.

‘You’re gonna attack me again?’

Mock fear.

Playful.

Teasing.

Notices.

Smiles.

“No. Of course not.”

Pauses.

Pout a little.

“How can I say no to a face like that. Sure. Let’s go.”

Want.

Need.

Strange.

Odd.

Me.

Sonic.

 

**********

 

Dull. Boring. Sterile.

Need

for

conversation.

‘So how’d you become a doctor anyway?’

Nervously chuckles.

“An interesting story, actually.”

Impressed whistle. ‘Do tell, do tell.’

Smiles and shrugs. “Well, at first I . . . . . well, I wasn’t always a doctor.”

‘Really?’ Laugh.

“Heheh, no. I, in fact, used to never even have to work. All I need to do was to endorse a product every once in awhile and I could eat for the year.”

‘I’m afraid I don’t understand.’

Laughs. “I was famous.”

‘Ah.’

“Yes, and my face was so recognizable that people just wanted me, you know? Only for what a familiar face I was.”

‘Wow. How did you get like that?’

“Oh . . . . . you know, charity works, community service, stuff like that. Oh, and if you can believe it or not, I was actually in a film once.”

‘Really?’

“Yeah. Even had a two year television contract, which slowly evolved into a six year contract. Money was coming in like you wouldn’t believe.”

‘As I imagine. The what happened?’

“I quit.”

Surprise.

‘What? Just like that?’

“Yep. Quit.”

‘Why?’

“It became to be too . . . . . hollow for me. Sure, it could be that I just got bored of the monotony of everything, but I could also feel a slight . . . shallow end to it all. Like I could have been doing better things for the society. So, I just didn’t renew my contract. I stopped granting endorsements of products. And I basically studied a different profession.”

‘Hence . . . . medicine?’

“Not at first. I was searching for something that I could do for everyone in return for their many years of devotion. At first I wanted to be a vehicle repair man.”

Laughter.

“Well, after that passed, I came across, yes, medicine. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

‘Wow.’

‘You met your friends here?’

Nods.

Realizes something.

“Speaking of that, they called me yesterday while you were out.”

‘And?’

“The patients are fine. They can come as soon as they recover.”

‘That’s good news.’

“Yes. And my friends say they will be home even sooner than that. Like, in a couple of days.”

‘Great!’

“Yes. I was getting rather sorry that they had left.”

Heh.

“They are quite dear to me.”

‘Hey, a question: why would you ever trust me enough to tell me all of this?’

“I don’t know. You have this helpless, curious, useless patient quality about you that says I can trust you.”

‘Gee, thanks.’

‘You know, I never really wanted to see the entire facility.’

“Wow, you didn’t? What a revelation!”

‘Shut up, you cute little celebrity. Seriously, though, let’s get right to the point. All the video cameras are really creepin me out.’

“What did you really want to do?”

‘Oh, we’re coy now? I wanted to see the outside, of course!’

“Yes, I know. I’m was actually stalling with conversation, hoping you’d forget.”

‘So let’s go then. Come on.’

“I don’t think . . . .”

‘Aw, you worry too much. Don’t make me have to try and walk outside.’

Sighs.

Tingling again.

‘Let’s go on the second floor balcony. I want to see as much as I can.’

 

**********

 

.ne.vermin.d.

something’s wrong.

“Behold: Knothole!”

what . . . .

what is this?

‘So this is the forest, eh?’

“Yup. Industrious of us, huh?”

‘Sure is.’

‘It’s not . . . . . .’

.

“What?”

‘Nothing.’

this is no forest.

that’s for sure.

for sure.

‘Where’s ground zero?’

“ . . . . . . . It used to be over there. You can’t see the giant crater because the other buildings obscure it, but . . . . . . it used to tower above them.”

lies.

liar.

Liar.

LIAR!!

“Look at all those people . . . . . . they all used to admire me so much when I was still entertaining them. When I was just some fake somebody. But then, when I choose something that saves their lives, they snuff me. And still, I can’t bring myself to hate any of them.”

Sounds fake.

Sounds untrue.

Sounds hollow.

‘Why did I live?’

“Hmm?”

‘Why did I survive?’

“Luck. Pure luck. Possibly divine intervention. Maybe a mixture of both. Either way, you’ve been given a second chance.”

‘No, I mean . . . . . . . . .’

That can’t be right.

‘I was closer than anybody to the explosion. Even the ones outside left no trace. Why am I still alive?’

These people . . . . . .

The survivors . . . . . .

Where are they?

‘Those people deserve life over me.’

“No! . . . . . . I love to look at them, but . . . . . . . you’re even better . . . . .”

They look fake.

They look dead.

They look ugly!

I hate them!

‘Still.’

‘It’s beautiful . . . . .’

‘I’m tired.’

‘Take me to bed now.’

 

**********

 

I can’t sleep.

Too troubled.

Sonic sounds like a liar.

Hiding something.

May be being nice to me to keep me quiet.

To keep me distracted.

Something is out there that needs discovering.

Something is odd in the world.

I need to think of something.

Soon.

Tomorrow, I will observe. Tomorrow, I will watch. I will take careful note.

No more taking it easy.

tired . . . . . .

.

 

**********

 

“Did you sleep well?”

Were you watching me until I wake up?

“So suspicious. I just came in five minutes ago. Don’t blame me for your bad timing.”

‘I want to see the tapes again.’

Eyes me suspiciously. “Why?”

I sit up. ‘We may have missed something.’ I rub my eyes. ‘I want to be absolutely sure.’

Sighs. “Look, I told you, I already checked them. There’s nothing on them.”

‘Well, then, you won’t have to worry about me finding something that will upset me, then.’ Stare.

Looks startled. Hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

‘If you prove me wrong, it will be the end of it. But if you deny my request, then you’d have to worry about me doing it anyway.’

“Yeah? And what’s to keep me from tying you down to your bed for the duration of your stay?”

Shrug. “If that’s how you want to win.”

Pauses. Stares at me. “This . . . . . This isn’t about winning or losing. It’s not a game. This is your safety we’re talking about! Doesn’t that matter to you?”

‘No.’

Throws fit of frustration. Goes into corner and stands there for a few seconds.

“I’ll get the chair.”

 

**********

 

“Okay, now, which parts do you want to look at?”

‘The explosion, of course.’

Maybe there’ll be something we missed. Nobody’s perfect. Maybe the doctor made a mistake.

Yeah, right.

For the past year and a half? Just happened to miss the revelation?

I’m being a little stupid.

Okay, fine, really stupid.

“Here?”

‘No, further.’

Probably thinks I’m a lunatic, dragging him all over the hospital, showing me things that shouldn’t make me feel like some paranoid, suspicious patient of insanity.

What’s wrong with me?

I can’t shake this feeling of . . . . . .

Stop this.

Maybe I am crazy.

Maybe . . . . .

See something.

Saw something

i saw something

I saw something!

Go back.

“Pardon?”

Rewind. Go back.

“Why?”

I thought . . . . .

There!

Did you see that?

“I don’t see anything. . . .”

Can you slow it down more?

“Yeah, hold on . . . . .”

.

“There.”

Play it back . . . .

“I still don’t see anything.”

Make it slower.

“Look . . .”

Just do it!

“Alright, alright!”

.

Okay.

Okay.

Almost . . . . .

Stop!
Right when it switches angles.

There.

You see that now?

“. . . . . . . . .”

It looks like . . . . a blue blur, or something. Almost like the silhouette I keep seeing.

“You seen it more than once?”

Yeah. In dreams. Whenever I sleep.

“But, you still don’t recognize it?”

. . . . . . . .

No.

But at least we know that I’m not all the way crazy.

Brain-damaged, maybe . . . . .

But not crazy.

“I can go along with that.”

And look! Zoom in on the clock.

The numbers are different . . . . . .

“Huh?”

Forward a frame.

See?

They change.

There’s like a five minute difference from when the blue blur is on screen.

What could cause that?

“I . . . . . . someone must have tampered with it . . . .”

Tampered?!!

“Oh, don’t get yourself worked up.”

What?! Are you kidding me?!
Something’s going on here. I’ve been saying that for days, and now, when I finally have proof, you still treat me like a recovering patient.

“Calm down!”

No, I won’t calm down. We’re so close, can’t you feel it? We’re onto something big here, something that would explain the cause of the explosion. Something that would explain the reason why you’re friends haven’t come back. Something that explains why only I survived even though I was closest to the explosion. Something that explains why a loved-one of yours was horribly injured, or even killed! Don’t you want to know?

“NO! I don’t! You ever think that learning the truth is the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen? I mean, what if the truth really is that you’re a terrorist and you set the bomb to detonate on purpose?! What then?!”

I . . . . . .

That’s not true.

“You wouldn’t know. Don’t pretend like you know yourself. Hell, I know you more than you know you, and I haven’t got a fucking clue!!!”

.

.

n.ot.a.ga.i.n.

 

 

 

 

 

**********

 

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Where have I heard that word?

Is that what you are?

Is that what you represent?

Is that your name?

You look so familiar.

You look like someone I know.

Please tell me who you are.

 

 

 

A fork left?

What?

 

**********

 

There’s no use pretending.

“Well, wakey wakey.”

See?

“Rise and shine.”

Always knows.

“Come on, breakfast is getting cold.”

Who cares? Just do it anyway. Nobody can force you.

“Please wake up.”

No.

I need time.

I need time to think.

“I’m . . . . . sorry . . . . . . .”

It’s alright.

I forgive you.

But leave me alone.

“I got mad earlier. I just . . . . lost it. It’s not your fault. I just . . . . I really care about you.”

I still believe that I’m right.

And.

“I worry because I’m . . . . . . I like you a lot.”

One of two things.

“I don’t expect you to understand, and it’s probably against the regulations or something, but . . . . I just wanted you to know.”

You’re either in on it . . . . . . . .

“. . . . . . . Okay. I’ll be waiting if you want to talk.”

Or I’m crazy.

.

.

.

Alone.

We’re alone.

What am I going to do?

 

 

**********

 

Sleep.

Eat.

Sleep.

Eat.

I’ve spent the last four days in bed. Recovering. Recuperating. Trying to remember things about my life. While I still can’t remember much, I can remember a little.

Like . . . . . . . I do remember what a forest looks like, and it sure as hell doesn’t look like what I saw.

Second, more and more I am beginning to remember vocabulary that I was forced to never use. I can hold coherent conversations with myself, which is what I did with a lot of my time, and I could understand myself perfectly.

What I’m doing exactly, I’m not sure. What I am trying to prove or accomplish is unclear. All I know is that this is the only thing that feels right.

We haven’t spoken since the outburst. Me and Sonic, I mean. It’s not that I’m afraid or anything. Just that I’m still not to sure about how much confidence I can entrust in everything, the doctor especially. I mean, the amount of security around here is just absurd, yet Sonic consents and embraces it.

I can’t go into the bathroom without seeing a camera staring up at me . . . . . it’s not really so bad now. I learned to cope because I convinced myself that the records were not here, but monitored somewhere else in Knothole by some dead night owl who never sleeps but never wakes. I imagined his eyes void and voice buzzing unintelligible words.

I had more dreams. The blue blur gets clearer and clearer every time, and even a background has started to emerge. I am remembering more and more words, but they seem to come in a pattern. Like words I used a lot or something.

In any case, as time and recovery forges on, my domain loses more and more credibility. The walls close in and get colder and colder. Shadows come to life and sneer. Every time I see something out of the corner of my eye it disappears a second later.

I had my own suspicions I needed put to rest, and I was convinced the video footage had more to tell. I needed to be sure, but Sonic never seems to sleep. No matter how long I waited, it seemed that the doctor was always on guard. Waiting. Watching. I don’t want to ask him again, and sneaking out was going to be difficult.

Since I decided that I was safe from the cameras for the time being, one night, I just bit the bullet and walked out of the room.

I could barely walk.

In fact, by all definition, I couldn’t, and I never made it to the media room.

I made it back to the room with the mirror.

Wait.

Shh.

Quiet.

Someone’s . . . . . here.

 

**********

 

“Come on in, guys. I want you to meet someone . . . . . .”

“What’s going on?”

“Dearest friends . . . . . . . . behold!! The patient made of pure steel!”

“What?”

“This is who I told you about. It was about . . . . a week ago when you woke up, right? Well, ever since, we’ve just been hanging out together, you know, all that.”

‘These are . . . . your friends?’

“My oldest and dearest! I’d love to introduce you all, but it will be rather one sided, since we don’t exactly know your name . . . . .”

. . . . . . . .

“But anyway! Patient, dear, these are my friends: Antoine, Rotor, Dulcy, Amy, Sally, Tails, Big, Chuck, and Knuckles. Guys, say hello to the most outstanding patient I’ve ever had.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

You all look alike.

“What?”

Why aren’t you speaking?!!

YOU ALL LOOK DEAD!!!!
LIKE GIANT SHADOWS THAT SMILE AND ACT ALIVE!!
FUCK YOU!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

clear out!

.

..

….

…..

……

…….

……..

………

………. ‘Are you okay?’

“What’s wrong? How many fingers am I holding . . . . ?”

Don’t you fucking touch me!!

“What the hell’s wrong with you?!”

Those . . . . are NOT your friends!

“What are you talking about? Of course they are! I’ve known them for years. You think I wouldn't know my own friends?!"

They weren’t real!

“Listen, you’re under a lot of stress right now. Remember, you’ve just recently come out of a coma, your brain severely damaged . . . .”

Don’t give me that shit!

I am NOT crazy!

If anything, you all are!

I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I swear I’m going to find out.

You can’t stop me anymore, you fucking creep.’

‘I can’t believe I let you feed me.’

“Stop this . . . . . please . . . .”

‘Get out of here.’

‘I can’t look at you anymore.’

‘You disgust me.’

“ . . . . . . . . .”

And on the way of departure, I see tear drops hit the floor.

 

**********

 

Alone again.

The friends still haven’t come back in, which is exactly what I could have asked for. I can’t afford to have one of them come in right now . . . .

The doctor is the only one I barely trust, but the rest . . . . . no. If they ever used to have feeling, it’s all gone now. Sonic can’t see, but I can. I can see what they try to hide. I can see what they’re trying to do.

There’s absolutely no fucking way I’m going out there alone.

I’m arming myself any way I can.

Oh god.

It hurts like hell to move. My muscles still can’t work for themselves. They feel like they’re being dipped in acid, and my bones creak and bend like thin shafts of bamboo. The intravenous lines of clear fluid and the chords hooked up to my chest tug and pull at me with aggressive resistance.

It takes me two hours to search the entire room, and I finally hit the jackpot, just as I hear them outside the door.

Whispering.

Talking.

Coming closer.

I jump for my bed and cling by the very edges of the sheets, straining and pulling myself off. Beads of sweat fall down my bald face and sting my eyes. My legs give up and decide not to help me anymore. My prize gets squeezed in my hand and almost breaks, but I finally pull myself on the bed.

They’re right at my door when I throw my covers back on and hurriedly get back in position, feigning sleep.

They walk by.

They don’t come in.

Their voices fade like ghostly shadows, and soon, they are gone.

I clutch the full syringe to my chest and try with all my might to go to sleep.

 

**********

 

The next morning.

Breakfast.

Sonic says nothing upon entry into the room.

I slip the syringe into my palm.

I smile.

“Aren’t we having breakfast?”

“ . . . . . . . . Huh?!”

“Yeah, breakfast. You know how much I love the food here. I miss it.”

“You can’t be serious . . . . .”

Uh oh.

“Sure I am.”

Think of something.

“Show me mercy, please. I’ve been . . . . . stupid. And I’m only now starting to realize it.”

“Sure.”

“I have!”

“You hurt me real bad, you know?”

. . . . . . . .

“Those comments you made. Those things you said. Well, they hit home. They hurt. And it was worse because I actually care for you. Even you should understand that I don’t do that very often.”

. . . . . . . .

“If you’re really ready to have breakfast with me, for real this time, then I’m ready to start to loosen up. But if you hurt me again . . . . . . . . I don’t know if I can do it over again.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Alright.

“Alright.”

 

**********

 

The food has gone south as well, but I don’t show it. I just smile.

What can I say? It’s a nice meal . . . . .

The doctor’s a great conversationalist.

At least, I think he is . . . . . .

I . . . . remember him to be . . . . .?

“I’m glad you’re finally starting to trust me.”

“You never thought I trusted you before?” My food goes untouched.

“Not really. I sensed something cold and distant about you that . . . . . frankly, tore me up inside.”

“Jeez, did I have that much of an effect on you?”

“You have no idea . . . . .”

This is too much.

Those feelings I keep having when we talk are too big to ignore anymore. I don’t even think they’re mine, by all normal senses of the word. They feel fabricated and . . . . . .

memories

Memories!

I’ve known this person before. That has to be it.

I don’t seem like the type of person to get all mushy over a first encounter.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

For you I am.

For the truth I am.

“No. Aren’t you?”

“. . . . . . No.” Stares at me. Heart beats faster. Warmth.

It’s happening.

It’s coming.

“You know . . . . . . I brought a full syringe out here.” I put it on the table. “I had the intention of using it on you or your friends if you tried anything. I even thought about trying to do it while you were eating, then escaping.”

Looks at syringe, then keeps gaze locked on me.

“And what made you change your mind?”

Here we go.

“I want the truth. No more games. No more lies. No more looking for clues. I just want it from you.”

Pauses.

Sighs.

Keeps staring at me.

“Fine.”

The truth is . . . . we’ve met before. In fact, we’ve known each other for quite some time. Even further . . . . . . we were in love.

But, the thing is . . . . .

We’re rebels.

We’re revolutionaries.

We fight tyranny, and in fact, what you see around you is the enemy’s facility. We have infiltrated it in order to bring down the leader and his cronies from the inside. We spent the bulk of five years inside, gaining trust within the corporation. Those friends of mine? Well, they were our friends, actually. A lot of things here should be very familiar to you, actually. That mirror was a gift from the boss. A wedding gift.

‘Why this big charade? Why try to hide it?’

You’ve got to understand something: you’re hurt. You have irreparable brain damage. I know that now because you don’t recognize anyone. Nothing sparks. All that happens is a primal urge to attack. Just a defense mechanism that makes you hostile to everyone you used to know. Even me . . . . .

And I tried. God knows I tried. I practically bombarded you with information to try and spark you. I called the city a forest, which gave me hope at first, but then the other data was accumulated and proved otherwise.

You didn’t recognize me. You didn’t recognize the environment. You didn’t recognize the mirror. Fuck, you didn’t even recognize yourself.

And worst of all, I gave familiar names to all of our friends, our REAL friends, to the fake ones. And you still didn’t remember. Only instinct. Only animosity. At one point . . . . .

At one point I even said your name.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

‘What about . . . . the shape . . . . the words . . .’

Whatever dream you’ve had, it’s because of your mind. You neurons are misfiring and causing random images and words to come into your mind. It’s nothing more. Your brain just . . . . doesn’t work anymore.

I hate to say it to you like this . . . . .

But there’s no hope for you.

You can never recover.

I’m sorry.

And at this point Sonic starts crying. Slumps down in the chair and sobs violently. It’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen, or rather, remember seeing, and it rips my fucking heart out. I can’t stand seeing this. I can’t help feeling that this is all my fault.

Because of how I acted.

Nothing but hatred.

Nothing but paranoia.

Nothing but nothing.

And what of the news?

How am I taking it?

I don’t care.

I don’t give a shit.

Nothing matters if Sonic is unhappy.

I know that we’re in love. That I am sure of.

Maybe I can learn to do it over again.

There is hope.

As long as I believe there is, then there is hope.

I run over to the other end of the table and I cry too.

We cry together.

We embrace.

Dinner goes cold.

 

**********

 

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

This is how the night goes

Fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck

Each time it happens, each time inside, I get a sharper image of the blur, but I ignore it. It doesn’t matter anymore

I’m never going to be the same

I may as well let go of the past and embrace the present

Look to the future

Besides

I can live without a lifetime of lies

I think

Right

Sonic’s breathing makes me want more

Everything that happens does

Even the act itself inspires more lust

On it goes

Fucking fucking fucking fucking

Fucking fucking

Fucking

That’s a lot

You’d think I would have collapsed from all the exertion

But two minute breaks are apparently enough

Every second that goes by I think I start to remember something but it’s only the shape, leering at me, taunting me

I climax again

It goes everywhere

Sonic does at the same time

Looks different than mine

But it’s still beautiful

Starts to suck on me

I kiss and prod and shiver and shudder and I climax again

Also

Soon, it’s so much later that I can’t be sure if it’s the next day

And we started at breakfast

Through the day

To the night

so

This is what it is like to live

I’ve been missing out

But soon, it’s over

Time for conversation.

 

“So . . . . .what happens next?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. Remember, I’m an excellent judge of character.”

We laugh. My head bounces on tough skin.

“Actually, yes. There is something.”

“Yes?”

“In about . . . . . two hours, the boss is coming over for a visit. He’s going to give the building a once over to make sure everything is running smoothly.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, and what makes it significant is that this is the night where our group is supposed to capture him. Stop him once and for all. I’m supposed to be given the signal when he enters the building. Then I notify everyone to move in.”

“And how were you going to keep me from knowing this?”

“Oh, I dunno, knock you out with more drugs?”

“Effective.”

“Oh no, what are you thinking?”

“Nothing, nothing. Where am I going to be during all of this now?”

“With me, so I can keep an eye on you.”

“ . . . . I couldn’t have asked for more.”

 

**********

 

Running.

Well, not really.

Only walking fast.

Stumbling fast.

The loud noise hasn’t left my ears, and the colors red and black flash over my eyes, impeding me even further, and yet I tread on, past the mirror room, past the lift to the second floors, on to the stairwell, which has no lights or illumination of any kind. I burst in and start my way up.

Searching.

Frantic.

Every nerve alive.

I try not to think about Sonic’s drugged form back in the hospital room. Should have seen it coming, I guess.

At least I did it after the signal.

Now I can do it.

I can show everyone that I can remember.

If I do it.

If I kill the boss.

I stub my toe over a step and I almost stumble head first, but I catch myself on the railing. I wobble back upright.

I ditched my hospital gown awhile back, so I was completely nude. But that did not matter. Clothes are optional.

I reach the second door by groping in the dark along the walls. My thumb hits the knob and I grasp to it, clinging. I swing it open and run out to . . . .

The balcony greeting me ahead. The lights of the city flare into the hallway, illuminating a shadow slightly downwards.

A familiar shape.

I bare my teeth, and before the enemy know it, I’m on top of him.

I have no weapons.

I am armed only with animosity. Instinct. Primal urges.

Bite.

Scratch.

Claw.

Maul.

Murder.

I don’t stop.

I never stop.

I want to remember.

I want it to go back to how it was.

Somehow, I know it’s a beautiful thing.

I’m not even sure what it is I’m missing so much.

But I am.

He can’t stop me.

He can’t block me.

He can’t do anything because now he’s dead.

I’ve been non-stop clawing for ten minutes and he barely put up a fight.

Just for good measure, I claw for another minute.

Bits of him are caught in every crevasse.

It feels good.

I smile and get up.

I walk away.

Suddenly I’m so much more revived, and soon, I feel the wave of understanding to wash over me.

Wait!

Sonic has to be here for this!

I break into a run, flying down the stairs and past the mirror . . . . . .

. . . . . Mirror . . . . .

Past the . . . . . .

mirror

Don’t stop!

My feet pound on the suddenly cold ground and I reach the door to the examination room.

It looks . . . . . different.

I can’t open the door!

I keep getting a flash of Sonic’s dead face.

Like I accidentally killed . . . . .

Fucking open!!!

Suddenly, I turn around and I run back to the mirror, running past the still friends, and I look at myself.

I, , , , , ,

r.u.n . . . .

calmm

stay calm . .. . .

,

.

.

Sonic can explain.

Back at the door.

I’m already turning it.

I’m already inside.

He’s standing in the corner.

He’s staring at me.

He’s not blinking.

The syringe is still stuck in his arm.

But he’s not bleeding.

I remember.

Oh fucking god I remember shit shit no

In the mirror.

Look how bruised and battered I look.

Why?!!!
TELL ME!!!!!!!!!!

The shape comes into focus

Doctor?

“………….yyyyyyyyyyyRRRRRRRAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!”

He screams loudly, pounding his fist into my face.

“It’s been almost a week since I’d seen you awake.”

I scream but it doesn’t stop.

I’m blinded by my own blood.

we’re fucking.

holy shit.

sonic has black orgasms. he cries black tears.

This continues

for

too

long.

A bomb. carefully constructed. thats what i was doing the letters changed to numbers

code: fork lift

i did it on purpose.

but it was a trap went off too early caught me

but..nowe.its.2.lat

…………

 

 

……

 

 

 

 

 

 

………………..

..

 

.............

...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inspired by Witchwood’s fic The Dead Spy
Also inspired by Dean Koontz’ book The House of Thunder