Jack Trevelyan is a kid with problems. One, he can't remember his past. Two, he has another, different personality in his subconscious. Three, he's on the run from the most powerful organisation, known as the Network. And now, he has to run, gun, kill, blackmail and do whatever he has to do to destroy the Network. Oh, and Four; he's decided to fall in love with a girl. One that has a few secrets of her own. The question is, can Jack and the girl survive as they cross the continents, with one of the most powerful assassins on their tail, and the voice in Jack's head?


7. The Past

He was on his back, asleep. A bolt of lightning blasted through his head, and his eyelids fluttered opened, and he jolted in pain. He was fully awake now, and he tried move. It was then he realized that he had been strapped down onto the table he was lying on with several broad metal straps. He couldn't move, and he knew something was happening, just out of his sight. A voice spoke, calmly and pleasantly, almost as if it was just mentioning the time of day.


"I am aware that you are awake, Human," it spoke, and he looked around him, "Yes, you can't see me, but I can see you. And I can mess with you. But they don't want me to do that to you, my friend. You are here because they want you. More precisely, they want the useless lump of matter that occupies that cavity behind your eyes. Oh, do not worry, you shall be quite safe. In fact, the most dangerous part will be the other, who is ready to be downloaded, uploaded, and reprogrammed into you. Now, are we ready to begin the testing? I know you aren't according to your thought monitor, but I know I most certainly am. Now, let us begin!"


All of a sudden, flashing images were rushing past him as the computer started working into his body. He barely could even see the flickering images, and then, something jolted inside him, and he felt blood in his mouth. But then, he was disconnected from his body, and he watched, a useless mind without a body, as someone else clenched his fists, and flexed against the bonds. The computer seemed delighted, and was nervous and breathing heavily as it continued work. He remembered something flickering drifting past his eyes, but before he could focus, a syringe plunged into his arm, and he drifted off.


He woke up, and he bolted up. He was in a simple room with a bed, a wardrobe, and a mirror. He padded across the room, and, with considerable force pushing through the drugs, punched the window, breaking it. He selected a large shard, and reflected it over shoulder. There, running up his head, was a long scar, secured with barbaric staples. He swore, dropped the mirror, and then a voice suddenly spoke to him. He leaped around, trying to find the source, but there was absolutely nothing. It sounded like the computer, but it was a boy, just like him, not the woman, yet almost like the computer. 


"Look, kid," it told him, "I'm kind of you. They experimented on you, messed with you, destroyed a portion of your brain in the process, too. Now, I heard you, thinking, as you were asleep. We both want roughly the same thing. So, listen to me, let me take control, and then--"


"Oh, enjoying your company," the woman spoke over him, "I suppose we must begin. Launch Sequence Serial Code 16788-Alpha."



With a sudden tense up of is body, he flung forward, and let out a yell. The other cackled cruelly in his head, and he knew that he had played the memories on him as a joke. He had thrown away the Suppressor, and the other was pushing it to his advantage. He swore at him, and then stopped. His hearing zeroed in on a violin, playing a haunting, melancholic tune. He removed the hands from his eyes, and took in the cheap hotel room. It wad dull, dingy, and completely normal; just like all hotel rooms. Lauren was sleeping, and Carrie was as well. He stood up, and the violin continued its haunting melody, drawing him out silently. He started to walk, until he was outside the room. More music seemed to join in, and he followed it more and more, until he was at the end of the corridor. He opened a door, and found himself staring at an extraordinary scene. There, playing a violin with such grace and poise, with such power and emphasis, was a boy, about his age. He was moving the bow over the strings, slowly and professionally. Bit by bit, he became more and more entranced, when the boy, suddenly noticing the predicament, turned around. But he was gone before he could be seen.


He started walking, his mind reflecting. There had been a boy just like that in The Network. He was slightly younger than him, and he had become a gifted musician. But that was before they broke his body, trying to turn him into a monster he was not.  He had watched as the boy had his liver probed, his eyes wrenched out, and his blood, dripping on the floor. There was nothing he could have done, and he was forced to watch as the boy died. But, just before he did, he requested his violin. He fondled it like an old friend, and in his dying moments, played the most beautifully haunting piece of music any of them had heard. Not one person didn't cry, and, by the time he drew his last ragged breath, even the staff were quietly sobbing at its majesty and beauty. The body had been cremated, and the violin recycled into other, more mundane items. He had only discovered, when, as a reward, he had been given a wooden figure. On its chest was the name of the brand of the violin. It had broken his heart, and he had barely slept that night, crying for the blood of the dead. He had died, too, but something brought him back, making him more determined, more angry. Something that kept him alive.


He remembered everyone there; little Mick, Angelique, Pine. He had been known as Blake, for a reason he had never found out, and the other had become William. He smiled at the memory, and then the others were pushed into the light. The sadistic bunch that always beat him, the staff that only had hurt at heart, and then there was the computer. She had been introduced as Drake, and she was a cruel, merciless machine, with a heart of iron and steel. She had been programmed for testing, and testing was what she did. Turrets, panels that shifted, buzz-saws; all of the works. And others. There were always people that he needed to stop, and that hurt when they died as a result of his actions. But--


No! He told himself forcefully. Dwelling on the past could do nothing for him, or for them. It was the now they needed. He told himself that they were monsters, and they were running to make sure that the monsters could never get them. Carrie, Lauren, and him. He jumped as something moved between his legs, and he peered down in shock. Of all things, there was a cat, sleek black, peering at him. He was instantly struck by the memory of the Menagerie; a massive experimental department, where they messed with animals so they were suitable with the experiments. He had been forced into tests with intelligent cats, viscous dogs that had poison toxins, and, the most interesting of all, a hamster that doubled as a a grenade. He picked up the cat, and it mewled, before leaping away from him. He then started following it, and then he suddenly stopped.


He was standing in front of himself. No, not himself. The other. It looked vaguely like him, but it had bronze eyes, and his regulation black hair. He was grinning sickly at him, and then reached out his hand.


"I'm surprised you recognize me," he said softly, "I mean, you've never seen me before. I think I look alright actually. I certainly fill this body better than you ever did. That was why they picked you; because you were never ever good enough to conform with Society. You're a weak disease that needs curing, that's what you are, my friend. You're almost as useless as that girl. Yet you still insist on protecting her. Are you falling in love with her, or are you just feeling protective because you could never have saved her, hmm? I know what it is, but are you going to admit it to me? Come  on, don't be-- Hey, what the hell are you doing?"


"I'm not listening to you," Jack told him quietly, "I'm sealing you back in your part of the brain. You can stay there, do whatever you want, but keep out of my life for now. I didn't ask you to become a guide on my life, and I'm not about to start doing it. So, close off, go away, and leave me alone!"


"Look, wait a second," the other said hastily, "Please, don't put me in that box. I don't want it. I didn't mean it! Please, no. Don't do this to me."


He barely paid attention, and walked back to his room. As he dived back into his bed, he heard a distant scream as the other vanished back inside his brain.






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