The story takes place at least 2 decades in the future and
the U.S.A. is
no longer the super power of the world. China
takes the reigns on the U.N., gaining respect and fear from the world as it
builds its defense program, space program, education, and economy. in a desperate attempt to secure its nations
independence the united states
puts into effect "operation spider-crack"- in essence it would be a
program to fragment the next generations of American citizens. starting at grade 1, and ending at their
graduating high school [side note, those who drop out are of serious threat to
national security- no child left behind act was the first year of op.
spider-crack] these children would be broken and rebuilt by a series of
traumatic events as a split personality, the one personality would be their
normal life, the one they worked towards and worked for their whole life. their second personality would be one forced
onto them in secret, trained in explosives, hand to hand/weapons combat, and
strategic battle ops. every sitting with
a fragmentation specialist would be triggered by a specific audio file, when
played the spec ops personality would be let out, upon playing a separate audio
file the meeting would end and the normal personality would emerge feeling as
if they came out of a deep sleep [possibly used later in the story when Chinese
ops find and play the wrong file awaking even more of the sleeping spec ops
egos.] unaware of any of the events
taken place with their birth selves.
this story will follow the kindergarten teachers, accountants, auditors,
politics- and any other extremely boring job I can think of - and what they are
capable of as their license-to-kill selves take back American soil.
IDEA there could even be a side story about pale gaunt men
in black suits aviators and fedoras who, one by one, take the children away for
a day to fragment their supple minds.
these men are fragmented as well and in their normal lives they have no
idea what they've done...
IDEA society in America would fall into a boring monotone
lifestyle as the new generations ego and id would be separate personalities,
what little happiness they are granted is only from consuming- buying up as
seen on TV goods or going to the mall.
(the only way you could successfully train so many spec ops would be to
separate the id and ego), the problem with the spec ops trained ego would be
that 1 in every 300 people would have no target, just have fun with all of the
training they've been given- creating a few happy and not-so-happy
accidents..... maybe a lead into something great.
THE FRAGMENTORS.
after he brakes me free from a federal investigation to
confess... well use his son to confess.
his son was the only one who hadn't replied in unison with his class...
the one he chose first. It never really took with the first kid.--- implying
that one of the children at least thought his dreams (memories) were real, used
to tell the story... maybe a dropout.
It was just
like any other 6 year olds' first day at first grade, vibrant imaginations only
qualitatively matched by the awe striking colors and still lifes that remain in
our memories long after we've started a family and watch our kids and kid's
kids run up the stairs to the glass doors of the first days of the rest of
their lives co-habitating with the system of things... until he showed up
destroying every chance we had at a normal life. A tall, gaunt looking man with a pale
complexion mechanically approached the blackboard of our class shortly before nap
time. He was wearing a dark pinstriped
suit, a dark fedora carrying a briefcase at his hand and a badge. The teacher calmed down the moderately loud
chatter of young spirit and introduced Mr._____ to
the class, "everyone quiet down please, quiet down now." The professional silently took note of which
child was most fidgety after the command and addressed the class; "hello children, how are you all
today?" the children replied with
the whole sound of a first grade lesson, "goood"... The professional
also took note that one child (the same) only mouthed shadows of the unified
retort.
*the fog of cigarette smoke filled the room. sitting at a metal table with a desk light
pointed at his face was the unique child, the first that Mr.____ took. "Mrs. ..... Ya know I never could
remember her name... damn."
The suit
had a disguised voice- "The teacher... can you even remember what she
looked like?" - "No, now that you mention it... I cant." faintly on another floor; the drowning smell
of smoke and familiar sounds of a jazz club... *
The teacher, she started explaining, "in fact, from now
on one of you will be going on a day long field trip starting now." The one child raised his hand and as her
trained reflex was to call on young Clive, Clive's untrained mind had a
question, simple and blunt- "where is the field trip?"- the
professional took the floor, "what do you all want to be when you grow up?"
dark and
misty flash back is dissolving in smoke, "doctor" echoing
"fireman" echoing "my daddies a veterinarian"... memory
starts to get foggy, the last volume of the kids replies are getting quieter
and quieter until the flash back is nothing but swirling smoke.
All i can
remember is on that first day of first grade the strange man chose me
first. Who knew that I'd be one of the
last alive. As i sat in that kind of
cheap metal fold-out chair, hands tightly clad in cuffs behind me I wonder
aloud, "how many have I killed?"
CUT TO Orange
reflected off of the perfectly clean metal table from my coveralls in the
camera feed of security footage. BACK
What had to be double sided glass surrounded me I'd felt the burning singe of
eyes on my skin like an ant under a magnifying glass, that burning isolated feeling... These guys were serious. Across from me are two of the worst
detectives I've ever had the displeasure of knowing... and I've met a one or
two in my day. These guys were a regular
Sherlock Holmes and his finitely wise doctor...
feds brought in a while a go to lend a hand to the locals. "Let's start with your career as a...
local psych in the department" I try
to shrug off the question, "Well, That's pretty much it. They were all pretty normal." "let's focus on you Mr. Owens."...
great. I really have no idea what
happened... just a swelling twinge of fear in my guts. Still, i'm playing it off pretty lax through
the sick feeling and cold sweat. The
entrance is behind me, only becoming aware of such a vital presence because of
the tiny *Pew Pew* two equally sized blood red mist sprays and dead bodies suddenly
filled the room, instantaneously
becoming aware of silenced pistol that just let off two perfectly placed
headshots in the doorway. I know that
sudden change in humidity and wonder where the hell that came from... still
trying to grasp why the intruder hadn't yet killed me.
"You're
coming with me" a quiet but still carrying deep voice sounded directly at
the back of my head. He was kneeling as
the jingle of chain links and low tug on my shoulders, meaning my hands would
soon be free. Barely able to shape the
words I let out, "What the hell is going on?!" The intruder answers
in a deep calm whisper, "I'll make sense of all this, just follow me. I have to introduce you to someone who can
shed some light on the situation. For
now do as i say." I stand up and
turn around slowly to confront my rescuer; a dark foggy outline of a person
seen through slowly adjusting eyes... it's... "Mr. Abalaster?!"
everything is back to being dark.
silence. comfortable.
SLAP!
Pain, ears
are ringing... the whole right side of my head is burning. "NEVER say it again."
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