This is a short episode that was taken from my complete story. It is the first two chapters of the story and are written as if ripped directly from the pages of a book. These first two chapters are about how the main character is Cleansed, or stripped of his memories. For more information on Cleansing and the plot of the story see the Plot Summary Tab above.
Chapter 1.0
The Hunter Is Hunted
“Sometimes you will never know the value
of a moment until it becomes a memory.”
-Dr. Seuss
Mason
The pain probably began alongside the buzzing tone that engulfed the room. The monotonous white walls around me started to glow a luminescent orange as my holding chamber began to sway back and forth in my diminished vision. I collapsed to the ground, as if some yearning unrelenting force threw me down. I can not decipher what I experienced, but I can say the feeling of the Cleansing is one you hope to never experience. It makes you feel worthless; as if you are just a hollow walking and breathing body. The Cleansing process is mentally overbearing and repulsive. The worst part of the Cleansing is the heightening and diminishing of your senses. One moment your ears feel as if they can explode and another moment your eyes can be completely blurred. My thoughts were an everlasting collision of rushing memories, colliding and separating; as if being physically pulled from my head. The pounding echo of that damned buzzing screeched in my ears. My ears burned as if melting and my thoughts pounded my head with thousands of unrelenting blows of merciless torture. I screamed as loud as I could but it was muted by the loudest noise I have ever heard. The noise was actually being produced from inside of me. It was as if every last memory I had stored was screeching and crying for help. Strange enough though, they were disappearing into the air as if they were nonexistent prevalent spirits. My every last thought and memory flashed across my eyes before slowly slithering out of my vision like the sly movement of a serpent. My memories overlapped one another, creating an eerie noise that sent chills down my spine. My power was draining in quick succession as I felt my skull grow lighter. With all of my remaining power left within my sub-conscious state, I tried to fight the Cleansing. I pushed with all of my willpower, screaming in agony as everything turned into an unforgiving realm of darkness.
After what seemed like hours of absolute silence within my mind, the darkness subsided and transferred to a view of pure white. I looked up and saw the same familiar walls of my chamber, except now they were not familiar at all. Where was I? What was going on? More importantly, I asked myself, “Who am I?” I yearned to think of anything, but my mind was empty and expressionless, like that of an untouched canvas, yet I felt so close to remembering, as if a paintbrush full of color protruded right above that very same canvas. I pounded my fists in frustration against the walls. It was then that the cell began to open with the sound of an airtight seal breaking. Lights began to flash around me as I saw the posing threat of two armored men standing near the entrance. I guess I would find out the answers to my questions soon enough. I then stood up with a struggle and walked toward the exit of my cell.
Chapter 2.0
An Enemy of My Enemy Is My Friend
“You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for
something, sometime in your life.”
-Winston Churchill
The holographic wall of screens displayed hundreds of numerical codes, constantly flashing and continually changing. These blazing screens (thirty seven to be exact) illuminated the dank and dark room in which Frederick sat, beads of sweat dripping down his face behind bloodshot eyes and a furrowed brow. His glasses lay ever so crooked upon his face, slightly sliding down the bridge of his crooked nose. The man was short and pleasantly plump, but an eager and earnest hardworker. From the outside Frederick seemed harmless and seemingly just a normal man, but that was what made him such a great asset for the Saviors. He was a man who harvested unrivaled talent in his skill. That very skill was hacking. It was a natural born skill he adapted to learning himself, ever since he was a young boy. His perfect match was technology and he used it beyond the comprehension of a common Sectorian citizen. For entertainment, he sometimes would crack virtual bank safes, reset city cameras, or manipulate machinery across all of The Sector. Simple tasks such as these required Frederick to hardly even bat an eyelid open. If he claimed he could do it in his sleep, chances are he actually could. Now this proved true, but right now he was facing a much more challenging task. A task that required his full attention and mindset.
Frederick’s fingers whizzed across his keyboard with shocking familiarity. After six hours, he began to crack under pressure, and of course from lots of frustration. A small vein began to surge from his temple and his face grew hopeless and full of despair. He had tried every last access code and trick up his sleeve, and that very sleeve had quite a lot of secrets in it too. He had tried to locate Mason multiple times, but with no success. He threw his head down in frustration, knowing Aldriche would surely be disappointed.
As if coincidentally, one of the thirty seven screens flashed green, a sure sign of success. The screen beeped repeatedly, causing Frederick to raise his head in curiosity. He had breached the REDCORP firewall. Finally, at last. He smiled. Now his work consisted of doing what he did best; putting the pieces together. Each of the intricate codes, databases, and such all contained the tiniest loophole. Frederick now had access to the Correctional Facility cameras and a well laid out map of the holding cells. Another click of his keyboard and he had an extensive record on Mason. He has spoken to Mason just recently, well before the incident. Who knew what was going on wherever he was. It was then that Frederick picked up a signal from Mason’s earpiece. Yes! Could it be? He still had his headpiece! Frederick rushed in a hectic matter to contact the earpiece. Rushing out of the dark room and into the bright light of the outside sky, Frederick yelled for help and sprinted as hard as his short little legs could propel him.
The Hunter Is Hunted
“Sometimes you will never know the value
of a moment until it becomes a memory.”
-Dr. Seuss
Mason
The pain probably began alongside the buzzing tone that engulfed the room. The monotonous white walls around me started to glow a luminescent orange as my holding chamber began to sway back and forth in my diminished vision. I collapsed to the ground, as if some yearning unrelenting force threw me down. I can not decipher what I experienced, but I can say the feeling of the Cleansing is one you hope to never experience. It makes you feel worthless; as if you are just a hollow walking and breathing body. The Cleansing process is mentally overbearing and repulsive. The worst part of the Cleansing is the heightening and diminishing of your senses. One moment your ears feel as if they can explode and another moment your eyes can be completely blurred. My thoughts were an everlasting collision of rushing memories, colliding and separating; as if being physically pulled from my head. The pounding echo of that damned buzzing screeched in my ears. My ears burned as if melting and my thoughts pounded my head with thousands of unrelenting blows of merciless torture. I screamed as loud as I could but it was muted by the loudest noise I have ever heard. The noise was actually being produced from inside of me. It was as if every last memory I had stored was screeching and crying for help. Strange enough though, they were disappearing into the air as if they were nonexistent prevalent spirits. My every last thought and memory flashed across my eyes before slowly slithering out of my vision like the sly movement of a serpent. My memories overlapped one another, creating an eerie noise that sent chills down my spine. My power was draining in quick succession as I felt my skull grow lighter. With all of my remaining power left within my sub-conscious state, I tried to fight the Cleansing. I pushed with all of my willpower, screaming in agony as everything turned into an unforgiving realm of darkness.
After what seemed like hours of absolute silence within my mind, the darkness subsided and transferred to a view of pure white. I looked up and saw the same familiar walls of my chamber, except now they were not familiar at all. Where was I? What was going on? More importantly, I asked myself, “Who am I?” I yearned to think of anything, but my mind was empty and expressionless, like that of an untouched canvas, yet I felt so close to remembering, as if a paintbrush full of color protruded right above that very same canvas. I pounded my fists in frustration against the walls. It was then that the cell began to open with the sound of an airtight seal breaking. Lights began to flash around me as I saw the posing threat of two armored men standing near the entrance. I guess I would find out the answers to my questions soon enough. I then stood up with a struggle and walked toward the exit of my cell.
Chapter 2.0
An Enemy of My Enemy Is My Friend
“You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for
something, sometime in your life.”
-Winston Churchill
The holographic wall of screens displayed hundreds of numerical codes, constantly flashing and continually changing. These blazing screens (thirty seven to be exact) illuminated the dank and dark room in which Frederick sat, beads of sweat dripping down his face behind bloodshot eyes and a furrowed brow. His glasses lay ever so crooked upon his face, slightly sliding down the bridge of his crooked nose. The man was short and pleasantly plump, but an eager and earnest hardworker. From the outside Frederick seemed harmless and seemingly just a normal man, but that was what made him such a great asset for the Saviors. He was a man who harvested unrivaled talent in his skill. That very skill was hacking. It was a natural born skill he adapted to learning himself, ever since he was a young boy. His perfect match was technology and he used it beyond the comprehension of a common Sectorian citizen. For entertainment, he sometimes would crack virtual bank safes, reset city cameras, or manipulate machinery across all of The Sector. Simple tasks such as these required Frederick to hardly even bat an eyelid open. If he claimed he could do it in his sleep, chances are he actually could. Now this proved true, but right now he was facing a much more challenging task. A task that required his full attention and mindset.
Frederick’s fingers whizzed across his keyboard with shocking familiarity. After six hours, he began to crack under pressure, and of course from lots of frustration. A small vein began to surge from his temple and his face grew hopeless and full of despair. He had tried every last access code and trick up his sleeve, and that very sleeve had quite a lot of secrets in it too. He had tried to locate Mason multiple times, but with no success. He threw his head down in frustration, knowing Aldriche would surely be disappointed.
As if coincidentally, one of the thirty seven screens flashed green, a sure sign of success. The screen beeped repeatedly, causing Frederick to raise his head in curiosity. He had breached the REDCORP firewall. Finally, at last. He smiled. Now his work consisted of doing what he did best; putting the pieces together. Each of the intricate codes, databases, and such all contained the tiniest loophole. Frederick now had access to the Correctional Facility cameras and a well laid out map of the holding cells. Another click of his keyboard and he had an extensive record on Mason. He has spoken to Mason just recently, well before the incident. Who knew what was going on wherever he was. It was then that Frederick picked up a signal from Mason’s earpiece. Yes! Could it be? He still had his headpiece! Frederick rushed in a hectic matter to contact the earpiece. Rushing out of the dark room and into the bright light of the outside sky, Frederick yelled for help and sprinted as hard as his short little legs could propel him.