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Nevada A man sits alone, his body pressed up against a hard steel wall, sweet slowly dripping from his forehead.
A broken monitor lays only feet from his body, the low hum of a computer can still be heard.
Files and papers line the floor, thrown from their home in a wild fashion.
The man, with a million thoughts running through his mind, tries to cry but can't. He can bearly breath as he looks foward, his mind adrift.
He is able to push a few words out of his still shivering mouth, "...I don't exist..."
Lightingburg
A man walks down a long steel hallway, stopping at a security door. He swips his card down the lock, after a few seconds, a small green light glows and there is a low hum of the door unlocking. The name on the card reads "Agent Turner."
Nevada... To Chicago... Back to Nevada... And now, Lightingburg. Boy has this been a LONG fuckin' week. The "good" Doctor better be in, or I'll make sure he doesn't have a Lab to return to later.
Agent Turner doesn't even acknowledge the guard as he passes, his eyes fixated on the office across the hallway. He stops for a brief moment, glazing his eyes across the golden plate that reads “Dr. Knell.” Veins rip throughout Agent Turner’s arm as his fist tightens.
In the Office
Doctor Knell, also known as Doctor Klone, is at a long table. Sitting upon the table is a little baby, smaller than most, his hairs stand up on end, almost like little snakes. His eyes a light hue of green. Knell takes a little sample of blood from the baby with a small needle. He holds it up to the light and smiles.
“You are developing better than suspected buddy. Much better…”
Before he can even finish, the door flies open, almost breaking off the hinges. Standing in the doorway is Agent Turner. He takes a few steps towards Doctor Knell, who tightens up.
“Oh, Agent Turner. What a pleasant surprise.”
Agent Turner takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a few more steps closer to Knell.
“Oh, Mr.Turner, you can’t smoke in here, you can contaminate the samples.”
Agent Turner is still silent. He takes a deep breath and blows a stream of smoke at Knell, much to his dismay. Then, Turner puts out the cigarette directly on the counter.
“What is the meaning of this visit? No one from the MCCA notified me that you were coming. You know that I desire at least a 48 hour warning so I can fit my BUSY schedule around your ‘meetings’.”
“I am not here on… Business.”
“Than what can I help you with? I am very BUS-“
“Shut your mouth.”
“What, how dare you…”
Agent Turner lungs at Doctor Knell, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him over the counter top. The little baby giggles and claps his hands in delight.
“You piece of trash. Doctor Knell, you piece of fucking trash! You were in on it. You were the lead Doctor. Why? You piece of trash, why?”
“Well, I guess secrets can only be held for a short while.”
“Cut the talk, why? Who am I? Why was I… Made.”
“First, get your hands off me. If it wasn’t for me, you would still be a sample in a jar somewhere.”
“Bustard.”
Anger overcomes Agent Turner as he throws Knell over the counter and onto the hard floor, breaking through some glass containers. Agent Turner’s eyes begin to glow a light hue of red, as anger takes over his body.
“So, it’s true than. The files weren’t lying.”
“No, they weren’t.”
Doctor Knell gets to his feet and gets a file out of a cabinet.
“The date was May 12, 1997. That was when the process was finished, and in many ways you can say you were born. For months afterward, you were kept suspended and aged rapidly.”
“You than planted the false memories. Ritchie Stevens, no such soul. All my memories were fake! School! The academy… They were all fake right?!?”
“Yes, they were. It was essential that you had no memory of the clonation. We didn’t want you going all CRAZY or anything. That’s just what we needed, the perfect AGENT going crazy.”
“What do you mean, the perfect Agent? Who was I made from?”
Red energy surges from Agent Turners eyes, sending things all around the room in a circle around his body.
“Who?”
“It looks like I have witnessed the glory first hand. We new it would take some time, years even… But it is perfect. This is perfect, you are perfec-“
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”
Doctor Knell smiles and points his hand upward. Agent Turner looks around, vials and papers are flying all around. Red energy is crackling around his head, coming from his eyes.
“I… I… You mixed a sample of the Metagene in my body… You fucking piece of shit! I SHOULD KILL YOU! I’ll ask one more time, who am I?”
“Your “father,” is the MCCA Head of Operations, Richard Stephen Turner…”
Agent Turner was silent, the tiny connections were so dumb and subtle, how did he not notice.
“Why was I created?”
“I don’t know. You would have to ask the man him self that. They give orders, and I follow. That’s how it works.”
“Well than, I guess I have an appointment to make.”
Agent Turner turns and begins to walk away. He stops and swings his head around.
“Oh, just one more thing doctor…”
The small blood filled needle sitting next to the baby, who was unharmed, lifts into the air and flies across the room striking right into Knell’s neck. It injects into his neck.
Knell rips the needle from his neck and falls to his feet.
“No, what have you done… vhat have you done…*”
Agent Turner closes the door behind himself.
...I guess this means BACK to Nevada...
