Virtual_Space
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Dec 14, 2006
- Messages
- 84
Ok, I know this is a bit long, but I need plot advice more than anything else. I also need advice on flow and word usage, maybe even some general writing tips. I do not need grammer or spelling advice, I know mine sucks but its not what I'm looking for. Feel free to only critique the first chapter if you wish.
Prologue
In what manner does man view himself superior to he who pulls the eternal strings? I control life, death and all that comes before and after. Who is man to call me a cruel master? Who is man to call me a loving caretaker? I neither take nor give. I merely control.
Man knows little of me, an ignorant beast pawing at the unknowable mysteries that supersede all. That is the reason for his failure towards his world, the reason for his failing in my master plan. No man, only the ever present puppeteer who enforces his will on all he wishes. That is my dream. That is the future.
Man knows little of me, an ignorant beast pawing at the unknowable mysteries that supersede all. That is the reason for his failure towards his world, the reason for his failing in my master plan. No man, only the ever present puppeteer who enforces his will on all he wishes. That is my dream. That is the future.
Chapter 1
In my study I sat. Surrounded by the flickering candlelight and rows of books, I felt a slight sense of comfort. The table at which I sat was covered in my own writings, everything from my novel to my reports. The red light of the dead about danced about me, bathing me in warmth. It was my favorite place in the universe, with but one exception.
I sat at that same table for many hours, obsessively flipping through the pages of a book. What book you ask? It matters not. What does matter however, is what that book was telling me.
Written in the book were the names of every person who currently inhabited the world. The moment a person faded from existence, so did their name from the pages of the book. With it I held knowledge of every human being and every one of their deepest thoughts. With a mere touch of the finger, I could know everything there was to know of that person.
Impossible? Maybe for a human, but not so for a god.
The name was, and still is, Ninurta. I am a god of sorts. Some may call me Satan, others Hades, even others Nergal. I am none of these. I am not some devil, designed solely to balance out the eternal force of good. No, I am here to control and offer balance to a world of chaos. I am the puppet master, and man is my puppet.
I watched intently as the names faded slowly from my book. John Henry, dead of heart attack. Kevin Baker, traffic accident. Josephine Smith, complications from routine knee surgery. Nothing of interest.
Then, something most unwelcome occurred. A faded name began to come back into focus, rewritten into the book. I knew immediately what this meant. With a quick tap of my finger, I learned exactly what I was working with.
“Why must this always happen at this time of night?” I said as I slammed the book shut, “Do the dead have no manners?”
I walked quickly from my desk and down the narrow hallway adjacent to my study. The hallway was made of cold stone, the floor covered by a long, red rug. The whole place had a medieval feel to it, and I liked it that way.
The long and winding hallway soon led to the office of one Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, better known as Nero. Yes, the Nero. While he was a long time friend, and wonderfully diligent worker, he seemed to lack a certain defiant charm. Fiddled as Rome burned? The man couldn't play a kazoo if his life depended on it, let alone a fiddle.
His office was quite different from my own. He had never given up on the ancient roman way of living. His office filled with statues and art. It made it look just like a palace of old. The only thing less than serious was a bobble head of Jupiter. At least he had a sense of humor about it. Not many men are willing to admit that their gods are false, even after death.
I walked up to and leaned over the large desk, staring at its occupant closely. He wore a gaudy red and gold robe, a most tacky of clothing choices. His long hair extended past his shoulders, and was immaculate in its care. He sat there, writing something down in an ungodly large tome.
“What is it, you seem distressed.” he said in that half cocky, half utterly unenthusiastic voice of his. He didn't once look up from his work.
“We have a problem.” I said. I walked to a nearby bookshelf and pulled a random book from the shelf. I started to flip through it, more bored than anything else.
“And what pray tell is this problem? Surely you have not failed the quarterly exam again. I swear, your as bad at testing as I was at public relations.” Lucius said with a laugh.
“For your information, I passed that test with flying colors. The test is not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“We have another leak.” I said, sliding the book back into its slot on the shelf.
“Another? That is the fifth this trimester.” Lucius said, an actual look of concern forming on his face. He closed his book and leaned back in his chair.
“I am well aware of that, I don't need to be reminded.”
“So, what happened this time?” Lucius said.
“Some woman in Seattle went into cardiac arrest. Dead for five minutes before they brought her back. Apparently she made it as far as the third gate before then.”
Lucius' face immediately changed from one of calm collected thoughts, to one of chaotic nerves. I believe I even saw a small bead of sweat run down his forehead, though I can't be sure. He quickly stood from his desk and began pacing the room. Any idiot could see his nerves were getting the better of him. But who could blame him? A breach of two gates was not something to be taken lightly.
Lucius stood there for a moment in complete silence before asking the mandatory question.
“Has she spoken to anyone yet?” Lucius asked as he wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
“Two people so far.” I said, expecting a most ill of reactions.
“You are sure of this?” Lucius said, his panicked face growing increasingly red.
“As sure as I can be.”
Silence filled the room once more. It wasn't because of a lack of things to say though. No, there was plenty to say. Just neither one of us wanted to say or hear it.
“Will a purging of the mind work?” Lucius asked slowly.
“Not this time, this woman already resisted the mind seeding.”
Lucius sighed heavily. “What about the other two?”
“They weren't a problem, a class one purge took care of them.”
“So what now?”
“That is quite simple. I will be handling her personally.”
Taking care of it personally. How long had it been since I had been to Earth? A century? Two? The number is no longer known to me. The world of man was not to be taken lightly, I knew that much for sure. As much as I dreaded the idea, I was returning to that which I hate.
“Do you have the societies permission yet?” Lucius asked.
“I neither need nor want their permission.” I said with a scoff.
“That is not a wise decision. You cannot just go to earth and kill an innocent woman. How will you cover it up?”
The thought burst through my head. Killing her wouldn't work, how Lucius couldn't see this I do not know. Killing one who had the ability to resist a mind purge didn't make sense. Why kill a specimen such as that? Why kill when you can convert? Make her into a most valuable asset.
I quickly shut out the thought, and said “I will not cover anything up, for when I am done, no evidence to cover up will remain. I will work with surgical precision, careful not to make a singe mistake.”
Lying to Lucius was not something I often did, and I most certainly did not feel proud doing it. But it was necessary.
“I must take my leave,” I said as I slowly moved towards the door, “As you know I have important business to attend to.”
I quickly walked through the open doorway and back into the hall, the cold stone an inviting site. The thoughts of what I was about to do started swirling out of the depths of my mind. It was like a never ending torrent of thought.
“This will be the easiest thing I have ever done,” I thought to myself, “How much resistance can one woman offer?”
Oh how wrong I was.
Chapter 2
Andrea Edgar lay in her hospital bed, flipping through the channels of the television overhead. I watched intently. What would she stop on? What would a woman such as herself watch?
I felt a slight sense of disappointment when she honed in on some cheesy sitcom. The disappointment grew even more when ten minutes later, she switched to The Price is Right. Seriously, just because you are past your prime does not mean you need to degrade yourself further. Was this really the woman that had resisted all of our advances?
I needed to find something that would help me, some way of both purging her mind and reassembling it without anyone noticing. Not an easy task. But first, I had to find out exactly how much she knew.
I drifted slowly into the nearby hallway, looking for anything that stood out. Doctors shuffled through the halls. They would be of little use, they stand out far too much. A young girl carried a group of balloons into a nearby room. Again, no use. Why involve the young ones in such matters? Finally, just as frustration began to build, I got what I had been searching for.
The familiar ding of the elevator could be heard in the distance. I quickly flew over and waited as the cold, metal doors slid open. As the people walked out, one man was left behind, slowly inching his way out. He was what I needed. The perfect puppet.
He was a man of at least eighty. His grey hair and beard gave him a distinguished and wise appearance. However the walker took away from that in a most sad of ways. His eyes barely open and hidden behind thick glasses, I wondered if he could even see anymore. Not that it would matter, I was merely curious. Even us gods wonder about such things.
I seeded his mind and waited to reap my bounty. It took very little time, to be expected when working with the older set. Within thirty seconds I had complete control.
I planted the first of many thoughts.
“I need to go to the front counter, I mustn't be late. Maybe that nice, young nurse will help me.”
The old man followed the thought as expected. He slowly stumbled over to the counter where a young, blonde-haired nurse was working on a laptop. She pecked away at the keyboard, her keyboarding skills atrocious. I quickly planted another thought to spare myself the agony of watching her hunt and peck.
“I need to ask where my daughter is. What was her name? I think it was Andrea. Thats right, Andrea Edgar.”
Again, the thought worked perfectly.
The old man cleared his throat and said, “Do you know which room Andrea Edgar is in?” His voice was a near whisper.
The nurse stared at him for a moment, studying him closely. “Are you her father?”
“Yes, I need to see her.” the old man said slowly, almost as if he was aware of his forced lie.
“She is in room 42B, right down the hall, third door on the right. She is quite a celebrity around here you know. Not many people can say they have lived through death.” the nurse said with a big smile, as if this meek old man amused her.
“Thank you,” the old man said, “I'm glad.”
I watched as the old man started down the hall, convinced that this woman was his daughter. Just to make sure the crop didn't spoil, I planted a few more thoughts. I planted an entire false memory, as real as any reality. Birthdays, graduation, Christmas. It was all there. No normal person could break free of that.
He slowly shifted into room 42B, the door left wide open. The sound of the Price is Right wheel beeping and spinning filled his ears. He pulled away the curtain and saw Andrea laying in bed. I noticed the thought of kissing her forehead drifting through his head. I quickly snuffed it out.
Obviously the old father, daughter routine wouldn't work anymore. Andrea must know her own father, and this old man is certainly not him. I quickly tore the crop from his head and planted a new one.
“I am a doctor, this woman needs treatment. But I am no mere doctor, I am a psychologist, the best in my field. I can treat anyone.”
The old man walked over and sat down in the corner chair. He eyed Andrea closely.
“What seems to be the problem?” he asked in the most sincere of ways.
Andrea looked at him strangely. “Who are you exactly?” she asked.
“I am your psychologist, I am here to offer my support.”
Humph, while he may have been an old man, he shouldn't have been this easy to control. I thought perhaps he was a psychologist in his real life, and that the ideas from his work years were drifting into his current state of mind. Perhaps, but I thought the real answer was simple. The old man just didn't have any fight left in him.
“Fine, at least I will have someone to talk too. Hopefully you won't call me insane as well.” Andrea said with a scoff.
“My dear, we don't use that word anymore.” the old man said with a smile.
It was then I knew something was going on. Something wasn't quite right with that old man.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize...”
The old man put his finger to his mouth. “We don't apologize either, we are all human. Now, tell me, what is troubling you.”
Andrea laughed. “Well, I just died for one. But worst of all, no one is taking me seriously. No one believes me when I tell them about the afterlife. They just say I was hallucinating or something. Its all so frustrating.”
The old man seemed intrigued, an idea I most certainly did not place in his head. He should not want to enter into this conversation. It was not what I wanted. I quickly planted several ideas to try and regain my control.
“This woman is insane. The afterlife does not exist, I should not allow such thoughts to grow.”
The ideas failed to take hold. He continued his conversation.
“Tell me about the afterlife Andrea.” he asked as he pulled out a pad and pen. It seemed almost as if he was prepared for this, ready to screw me over. I wouldn't give whoever he was the satisfaction.
This man was obviously not human. Some other force was at work, what exactly I couldn't be sure of. I surged into the hallway, looking for a way to end that wretched conversation. I quickly found what I needed.
A lone off-duty police officer was walking down the hall, straight at me. I quickly seeded his mind, but too a much greater degree than I had ever done before. I filled it to the brim with every murderous thought I could muster. The society would frown on this, but it had to be done. I don't care if he would go mad, I had my own hide to protect.
His eyes quickly dulled, his muscles became tense. He then dashed down the hall towards room 42B, gun drawn and at the ready.
The old man turned just in time to see the flash of the officers gun. In an instant, he reeled back from the impact and fell to the ground, a light trickle of blood flowing from his mouth.
Andrea began to scream almost immediately, at least once over the initial shock. Obviously, it wasn't long until the room was swarming with doctors and curious onlookers. The first of the doctors into the room quickly pulled the crazed gunman to the ground. The young nurse who moments before had given directions to the old man, kicked away the gun with her dainty foot.
“What the hell happened?” a young woman from outside the room yelled, “Was that a gunshot?”
“I think so,” another man said, his voice filled with panic.
The struggle inside room 42B quickly escalated. The police officer started to flail, trying to break free of the iron grip of the doctors, but it was of no use. Andrea's screaming continued to pierce through the air. Once the pinned man started to claw at the eyes of one of the doctors, I knew I had to intervene.
I quickly purged the officers mind, fully and completely. Such action was rarely necessary, but I think a crazed madman on a murderous rampage was a good enough candidate as any.
The purge took effect quickly. Within seconds the man was slumped on the ground, his mind a complete blank. The doctors got up and huddled around the quivering man. None seemed to know quite what to think. What would you think in their situation though? Would you think that he was merely insane? Or would you suspect a greater power? I was hoping for the former.
I knew however that I had just made either a fatal error, or a brilliant move. Either I had just killed an innocent man and purged the mind of another. Or I had just destroyed an enemy of the society, the enemy that dares not show its face. Could I truly have found a new enemy to fight? It seemed possible, even probable. Just to make sure I moved to the body of the old man, slumped over in the fallen chair.
The bullet wound in his forehead was the obvious cause of death, but I wasn't interested in that. I was more interested in what lay inside that head of his. I quickly probed the depths of his mind, looking for anything that stood out. Little did I know I would find something far greater than any ordinary mind could hold. Not even the mind of Lucius could comprehend it. Hell, even I barely understood it. All I knew was that Andrea was at the center of it all.
I sat at that same table for many hours, obsessively flipping through the pages of a book. What book you ask? It matters not. What does matter however, is what that book was telling me.
Written in the book were the names of every person who currently inhabited the world. The moment a person faded from existence, so did their name from the pages of the book. With it I held knowledge of every human being and every one of their deepest thoughts. With a mere touch of the finger, I could know everything there was to know of that person.
Impossible? Maybe for a human, but not so for a god.
The name was, and still is, Ninurta. I am a god of sorts. Some may call me Satan, others Hades, even others Nergal. I am none of these. I am not some devil, designed solely to balance out the eternal force of good. No, I am here to control and offer balance to a world of chaos. I am the puppet master, and man is my puppet.
I watched intently as the names faded slowly from my book. John Henry, dead of heart attack. Kevin Baker, traffic accident. Josephine Smith, complications from routine knee surgery. Nothing of interest.
Then, something most unwelcome occurred. A faded name began to come back into focus, rewritten into the book. I knew immediately what this meant. With a quick tap of my finger, I learned exactly what I was working with.
“Why must this always happen at this time of night?” I said as I slammed the book shut, “Do the dead have no manners?”
I walked quickly from my desk and down the narrow hallway adjacent to my study. The hallway was made of cold stone, the floor covered by a long, red rug. The whole place had a medieval feel to it, and I liked it that way.
The long and winding hallway soon led to the office of one Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, better known as Nero. Yes, the Nero. While he was a long time friend, and wonderfully diligent worker, he seemed to lack a certain defiant charm. Fiddled as Rome burned? The man couldn't play a kazoo if his life depended on it, let alone a fiddle.
His office was quite different from my own. He had never given up on the ancient roman way of living. His office filled with statues and art. It made it look just like a palace of old. The only thing less than serious was a bobble head of Jupiter. At least he had a sense of humor about it. Not many men are willing to admit that their gods are false, even after death.
I walked up to and leaned over the large desk, staring at its occupant closely. He wore a gaudy red and gold robe, a most tacky of clothing choices. His long hair extended past his shoulders, and was immaculate in its care. He sat there, writing something down in an ungodly large tome.
“What is it, you seem distressed.” he said in that half cocky, half utterly unenthusiastic voice of his. He didn't once look up from his work.
“We have a problem.” I said. I walked to a nearby bookshelf and pulled a random book from the shelf. I started to flip through it, more bored than anything else.
“And what pray tell is this problem? Surely you have not failed the quarterly exam again. I swear, your as bad at testing as I was at public relations.” Lucius said with a laugh.
“For your information, I passed that test with flying colors. The test is not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“We have another leak.” I said, sliding the book back into its slot on the shelf.
“Another? That is the fifth this trimester.” Lucius said, an actual look of concern forming on his face. He closed his book and leaned back in his chair.
“I am well aware of that, I don't need to be reminded.”
“So, what happened this time?” Lucius said.
“Some woman in Seattle went into cardiac arrest. Dead for five minutes before they brought her back. Apparently she made it as far as the third gate before then.”
Lucius' face immediately changed from one of calm collected thoughts, to one of chaotic nerves. I believe I even saw a small bead of sweat run down his forehead, though I can't be sure. He quickly stood from his desk and began pacing the room. Any idiot could see his nerves were getting the better of him. But who could blame him? A breach of two gates was not something to be taken lightly.
Lucius stood there for a moment in complete silence before asking the mandatory question.
“Has she spoken to anyone yet?” Lucius asked as he wiped his forehead with his sleeve.
“Two people so far.” I said, expecting a most ill of reactions.
“You are sure of this?” Lucius said, his panicked face growing increasingly red.
“As sure as I can be.”
Silence filled the room once more. It wasn't because of a lack of things to say though. No, there was plenty to say. Just neither one of us wanted to say or hear it.
“Will a purging of the mind work?” Lucius asked slowly.
“Not this time, this woman already resisted the mind seeding.”
Lucius sighed heavily. “What about the other two?”
“They weren't a problem, a class one purge took care of them.”
“So what now?”
“That is quite simple. I will be handling her personally.”
Taking care of it personally. How long had it been since I had been to Earth? A century? Two? The number is no longer known to me. The world of man was not to be taken lightly, I knew that much for sure. As much as I dreaded the idea, I was returning to that which I hate.
“Do you have the societies permission yet?” Lucius asked.
“I neither need nor want their permission.” I said with a scoff.
“That is not a wise decision. You cannot just go to earth and kill an innocent woman. How will you cover it up?”
The thought burst through my head. Killing her wouldn't work, how Lucius couldn't see this I do not know. Killing one who had the ability to resist a mind purge didn't make sense. Why kill a specimen such as that? Why kill when you can convert? Make her into a most valuable asset.
I quickly shut out the thought, and said “I will not cover anything up, for when I am done, no evidence to cover up will remain. I will work with surgical precision, careful not to make a singe mistake.”
Lying to Lucius was not something I often did, and I most certainly did not feel proud doing it. But it was necessary.
“I must take my leave,” I said as I slowly moved towards the door, “As you know I have important business to attend to.”
I quickly walked through the open doorway and back into the hall, the cold stone an inviting site. The thoughts of what I was about to do started swirling out of the depths of my mind. It was like a never ending torrent of thought.
“This will be the easiest thing I have ever done,” I thought to myself, “How much resistance can one woman offer?”
Oh how wrong I was.
Chapter 2
Andrea Edgar lay in her hospital bed, flipping through the channels of the television overhead. I watched intently. What would she stop on? What would a woman such as herself watch?
I felt a slight sense of disappointment when she honed in on some cheesy sitcom. The disappointment grew even more when ten minutes later, she switched to The Price is Right. Seriously, just because you are past your prime does not mean you need to degrade yourself further. Was this really the woman that had resisted all of our advances?
I needed to find something that would help me, some way of both purging her mind and reassembling it without anyone noticing. Not an easy task. But first, I had to find out exactly how much she knew.
I drifted slowly into the nearby hallway, looking for anything that stood out. Doctors shuffled through the halls. They would be of little use, they stand out far too much. A young girl carried a group of balloons into a nearby room. Again, no use. Why involve the young ones in such matters? Finally, just as frustration began to build, I got what I had been searching for.
The familiar ding of the elevator could be heard in the distance. I quickly flew over and waited as the cold, metal doors slid open. As the people walked out, one man was left behind, slowly inching his way out. He was what I needed. The perfect puppet.
He was a man of at least eighty. His grey hair and beard gave him a distinguished and wise appearance. However the walker took away from that in a most sad of ways. His eyes barely open and hidden behind thick glasses, I wondered if he could even see anymore. Not that it would matter, I was merely curious. Even us gods wonder about such things.
I seeded his mind and waited to reap my bounty. It took very little time, to be expected when working with the older set. Within thirty seconds I had complete control.
I planted the first of many thoughts.
“I need to go to the front counter, I mustn't be late. Maybe that nice, young nurse will help me.”
The old man followed the thought as expected. He slowly stumbled over to the counter where a young, blonde-haired nurse was working on a laptop. She pecked away at the keyboard, her keyboarding skills atrocious. I quickly planted another thought to spare myself the agony of watching her hunt and peck.
“I need to ask where my daughter is. What was her name? I think it was Andrea. Thats right, Andrea Edgar.”
Again, the thought worked perfectly.
The old man cleared his throat and said, “Do you know which room Andrea Edgar is in?” His voice was a near whisper.
The nurse stared at him for a moment, studying him closely. “Are you her father?”
“Yes, I need to see her.” the old man said slowly, almost as if he was aware of his forced lie.
“She is in room 42B, right down the hall, third door on the right. She is quite a celebrity around here you know. Not many people can say they have lived through death.” the nurse said with a big smile, as if this meek old man amused her.
“Thank you,” the old man said, “I'm glad.”
I watched as the old man started down the hall, convinced that this woman was his daughter. Just to make sure the crop didn't spoil, I planted a few more thoughts. I planted an entire false memory, as real as any reality. Birthdays, graduation, Christmas. It was all there. No normal person could break free of that.
He slowly shifted into room 42B, the door left wide open. The sound of the Price is Right wheel beeping and spinning filled his ears. He pulled away the curtain and saw Andrea laying in bed. I noticed the thought of kissing her forehead drifting through his head. I quickly snuffed it out.
Obviously the old father, daughter routine wouldn't work anymore. Andrea must know her own father, and this old man is certainly not him. I quickly tore the crop from his head and planted a new one.
“I am a doctor, this woman needs treatment. But I am no mere doctor, I am a psychologist, the best in my field. I can treat anyone.”
The old man walked over and sat down in the corner chair. He eyed Andrea closely.
“What seems to be the problem?” he asked in the most sincere of ways.
Andrea looked at him strangely. “Who are you exactly?” she asked.
“I am your psychologist, I am here to offer my support.”
Humph, while he may have been an old man, he shouldn't have been this easy to control. I thought perhaps he was a psychologist in his real life, and that the ideas from his work years were drifting into his current state of mind. Perhaps, but I thought the real answer was simple. The old man just didn't have any fight left in him.
“Fine, at least I will have someone to talk too. Hopefully you won't call me insane as well.” Andrea said with a scoff.
“My dear, we don't use that word anymore.” the old man said with a smile.
It was then I knew something was going on. Something wasn't quite right with that old man.
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize...”
The old man put his finger to his mouth. “We don't apologize either, we are all human. Now, tell me, what is troubling you.”
Andrea laughed. “Well, I just died for one. But worst of all, no one is taking me seriously. No one believes me when I tell them about the afterlife. They just say I was hallucinating or something. Its all so frustrating.”
The old man seemed intrigued, an idea I most certainly did not place in his head. He should not want to enter into this conversation. It was not what I wanted. I quickly planted several ideas to try and regain my control.
“This woman is insane. The afterlife does not exist, I should not allow such thoughts to grow.”
The ideas failed to take hold. He continued his conversation.
“Tell me about the afterlife Andrea.” he asked as he pulled out a pad and pen. It seemed almost as if he was prepared for this, ready to screw me over. I wouldn't give whoever he was the satisfaction.
This man was obviously not human. Some other force was at work, what exactly I couldn't be sure of. I surged into the hallway, looking for a way to end that wretched conversation. I quickly found what I needed.
A lone off-duty police officer was walking down the hall, straight at me. I quickly seeded his mind, but too a much greater degree than I had ever done before. I filled it to the brim with every murderous thought I could muster. The society would frown on this, but it had to be done. I don't care if he would go mad, I had my own hide to protect.
His eyes quickly dulled, his muscles became tense. He then dashed down the hall towards room 42B, gun drawn and at the ready.
The old man turned just in time to see the flash of the officers gun. In an instant, he reeled back from the impact and fell to the ground, a light trickle of blood flowing from his mouth.
Andrea began to scream almost immediately, at least once over the initial shock. Obviously, it wasn't long until the room was swarming with doctors and curious onlookers. The first of the doctors into the room quickly pulled the crazed gunman to the ground. The young nurse who moments before had given directions to the old man, kicked away the gun with her dainty foot.
“What the hell happened?” a young woman from outside the room yelled, “Was that a gunshot?”
“I think so,” another man said, his voice filled with panic.
The struggle inside room 42B quickly escalated. The police officer started to flail, trying to break free of the iron grip of the doctors, but it was of no use. Andrea's screaming continued to pierce through the air. Once the pinned man started to claw at the eyes of one of the doctors, I knew I had to intervene.
I quickly purged the officers mind, fully and completely. Such action was rarely necessary, but I think a crazed madman on a murderous rampage was a good enough candidate as any.
The purge took effect quickly. Within seconds the man was slumped on the ground, his mind a complete blank. The doctors got up and huddled around the quivering man. None seemed to know quite what to think. What would you think in their situation though? Would you think that he was merely insane? Or would you suspect a greater power? I was hoping for the former.
I knew however that I had just made either a fatal error, or a brilliant move. Either I had just killed an innocent man and purged the mind of another. Or I had just destroyed an enemy of the society, the enemy that dares not show its face. Could I truly have found a new enemy to fight? It seemed possible, even probable. Just to make sure I moved to the body of the old man, slumped over in the fallen chair.
The bullet wound in his forehead was the obvious cause of death, but I wasn't interested in that. I was more interested in what lay inside that head of his. I quickly probed the depths of his mind, looking for anything that stood out. Little did I know I would find something far greater than any ordinary mind could hold. Not even the mind of Lucius could comprehend it. Hell, even I barely understood it. All I knew was that Andrea was at the center of it all.
