Electric Sheep


A blinding white light greets me as I open up my eyes. I can’t see anything else in the room. My attempts to reposition my body are immediately stopped by fabrics straps at my arms and wrist. What kind of sick stuff is this? Where am I? I dig through the archives of my brain and try to remember anything. All of my memories seem to be shaken up or broken. I can’t seem to remember anything in the correct order. Everything is there, just wrong.

“Hello,” I call out repeatedly to the empty room. I don’t get any response.

Again, I think back trying to remember anything. Everything is foggy. I seem to have one memory wearing the same clothes that I’m wearing now. A bar, somewhere in the city. I was out having a few drinks and I started feeling out of it. I wandered outside to get some fresh air and a few people followed me. I can’t seem to recognize any of their faces in my memories. Did I know these people? Did someone drug me?

“Is someone there,” I call out again, still no answer. Just the buzzing of the bright light above me.

I try to turn my head and get a look around but the light keeps me from viewing anything else. What did those people want from me? Partial memories, flood in. Something about cloning. What kind of nutjob thinks they can clone a person? Is that what this is about? Are they going to try cloning me? No, that’s ridiculous. Nobody has the technology for that, and if they didn’t they wouldn’t be hanging around some little bar in Blackport. There’s been stories about crazy things going on in this city for years, but none of them are true. Aliens, ghosts, all that, but they’re just stories. I’ve been here my entire life and never saw any proof of any of that stuff.

“Please remain calm,” a voice crackles over a speaker somewhere in the room.

“I would be calmer if I wasn’t strapped to a table with some blinding light in my face,” I yell out in response.

The light shuts off and my eyes take a moment to adjust. A sterile looking white padded room. The only wall that wasn’t completely padded had a glass window. As if I was some kind of zoo animal to be watched and gawked at. This all reminds me of the old insane asylums they used to have on all the TV shows growing up as a kid. Was I crazy? Did someone have me committed? Who would do that?

“Where am I,” I ask the disembodied voice.

“It is of no concern at the moment. Would you mind telling me how you’re feeling,” this time a woman’s voice responds.

“I’m fine, I would be better if I could get out of here. These straps are killing my wrists.”

“We can not release the straps for now. They are for your own safety. Do you have any memories of the last six hours,” a male voice this time.

“No, I don’t recall anything recent,” a lie. I'm hoping they’ll let me go if I don’t recall anything.

This time no voice calls back to me. Did they know I lied? Are they planning something? If they wanted to torture me, they would have done it already. The only injuries I have is some bruises on my wrist from the restraints. Now that I know someone is watching me from somewhere near the silence starts to bother me. It’s different when you know someone else is with you in the silence, something unseen watching your every move waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

I must be delusional. I have to be because I swear, I just saw me walking past the glass window. How could it be me, if I’m right here. I watch the window waiting to see it again. Yeah, my mind is playing tricks on me. Wait, that’s me again, this time with some people in white jackets. No this can’t be right. Did they really clone me? They can’t do that, that’s impossible. Why would they want to clone me?

I’ve got to get out of here. My family is in danger. If that clone gets to them he could kill them all. I start to rock back and forth trying to free my wrist or flip the table over. Anything that might help me get free. I need to get out of here right now.

“Please calm down,” the female voice says over the speaker.

“Let me out of these damn straps,” I yell back at her.

“You could injure yourself if you don’t stop,” she pleads. I don’t care, I keep struggling.

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