The scene opens with our hero (who shall remain nameless for the moment) standing atop a hill in the middle of storm. A woman runs up the hill, though the rain, towards our hero. She shouts something to him, unpercievable through the rain and wind. He nods in agreement. She turns and runs off back down the hill. Cut to close up of our hero....
Submitted by Sally Young:
The wind flicked his dark shining hair around his suburban face. It was clear he did not originally come from here. The air was sharp and crisp and the night was cold. Rain pounded steadily against the ground, as if it were some tribal wardance. Gazing off into the the distance with glazed eyes he clutched a torn and crumpled piece of paper in his frigid hand.
The rain began to ease off and the grassy land before him shimmered as the faint light from the overcast sky above reflected upon the rain water resting gently on the grass.
A flock of birds flew overhead and called out in a shrill tone awaking him from his daydream.
Our Hero Turns round...
Submitted by Matt Squirrell:
...and looks toward the dirty smog of the nearby city, knowing that, somewhere within, his destiny awaited.
After taking another look at the address in his hand, Our Hero sets off toward the city, using trees and hedges to keep well hidden.
Once in the city there was no need for him to hide, for everybody in this city was nobody. He walked past the human sewage huddled in doorways, seeking shelter from the light rain that looked set to sweep down all day. He kept his head up high, refusing to look them in the face as their thin, trembling hands reached out with pitiful cries for money or nourishment.
Within the hour, he arrived at location that he had been travelling to for the last three months...
Submitted by Willa Cline:
He looked again at the piece of paper in his hand, stained and crumpled now from weeks of carrying it in his pocket, then looked up at the faded numbers painted above the doorway. He had memorized the numbers on the paper long ago, there was really no need for him to look at them, but look he did, reassuring himself that he had arrived at the right address.
The door in front of him had recently been painted a deep, rich green, incongrous against the weatherbeaten boards of the rest of the -- what? House? Business? It could be a brothel for all he knew. He knew only that he was to arrive at this hour, on this day, at this door, No. 827. He had no idea what awaited him behind the door, but he could no more walk away than he could remember his own name. And when had that happened, forgetting his name? It seemed impossible, but there it was. He was operating completely on instinct now.
He raised his hand to knock.
Submitted by Steve Gerety:
At that point He realized that there was no way to knock. The months of travel took their toll on him. The calluses that had grown from the wear of walking 1300 miles on his hands had left him with grapefruit-sized, swollen hands. It was the equivalent of trying to accomplish brain surgery with four pounds of Play-Doh covering your fingers. Looking from side to side he was almost breaking into panic trying to figure out how he would let his unknown host realize that he had arrived. Then it struck him. He thought back to the days in the monastery when the monks would dangle him above the dinner table with twine that he himself had made from earwax, he remembered the one thing that they would say when he had all but given up...
Submitted by Max Willey:
..."Use your head" they would say.
"Use the head that the good Lord gave you".
The monks' advice had never meant anything to him before, but at last he understood. Leaning back as far as he could our hero brought his forhead crashing down against the wooden door, delivering an almighty knock that echoed up and down the length of the cobbled ally, and deep within 827 itself. Silence. He stepped back, and with a powerful lunge he nutted the door again, harder than before. Again nothing. He pressed his filthy ear to the dark oak...footsteps? or...his imagination. He was just about to headbutt the door again when slowly, and with a mighty, farting creak it swung open.
"I've been waiting for you" said the girl.
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. So pale, with small delicate, almost elfin features. Like him she must be a foreigner here, but from no land he knew.
"What kept you?"...
Submitted by Guy Parsons:
"I'm exactly on time."
"Correct answer."
She took a step backwards so as to better observe the gentleman. She was not what she had been expecting - he was tall, awkwardly so, although the ceiling was low in the hallway, and his face was creased, tired, like a warrior fighting a ceaseless battle. Ironic, then, that this would be the man to end a war. Or, as others knew it, The War.
One way or another, he would be the beginning of the end. She took his hand, and led him...
Submitted by Goober Bob, 17th May 2002:
She led him in with a twinkle in her eye for she "knew" that he'd be staying a long while.
He was strong and yet parcularly handsome in a odd sort of way. Yet she knew that she could have her way with him. Yes something was odd about this traveler. She couldn't understand why he kept thrusting this little paper into her face. And why was he dressed like that?.....
Submitted by Thomas Klovert, 26th October 2002:
She took the small peice of paper and read it. It was a letter that seemed to be adressed to the man standing right in front of her. It said:
Dear Mr Elliot,
I have been following you for quite some time now and i think that you are the only one who can fix the horrible dillema the we are in. I (the next few sentences were smudged so she couldn't read them) We trust that you can stop those horrible machines before they destroy us all. The only person who can help you is Paige Rodgers who lives at
Room 827 Lapana's Apartments
Middletown, United Earths, 88690-5847
Meet her at 1:30 am on Saturday, October 26, 2675. She won't know what to do but together you can figure it out. I hope you get this before it's too late.
She looked up to him and said "Well, Elliot, we'd better get to work.
Submitted by Matt Squirrell, 6th January 2003:
"I'm not Elliot."
"Who are you then?"
"I don't know, I can't remember, but I was given this paper by a dying..."
"That must have been Elliot!"
"No, it was a dying woman."
"Hmm. Well, I'm Paige, and, for the sake of simplicity, I'm going to call you Elliot."
He twisted the word around in his head.
"Elliot," he mused, "Okay."
It was the first time (as far as he could remember) that he had had a name.
"They're tough," said Paige, pulling a adapted P90 from a shelf and loading it with hollow-point high velocity rounds.
"Hence the HV's." he said, catching the small machine gun as she threw it to him.
"You know a lot about guns, considering you can't remember your own name."
He smiled at her.
Yes, he knew a lot about guns. In fact, he had used a very similar one to kill a man.
In fact, he'd killed the man's whole family.
In fact, that man had been Elliot.
Submitted by Jonathan Pelphrey, 5th February 2003:
This memory came upon him like the rush of a train through a tunnel. It wasn't something he'd particularly wanted to remember. But now that he knew, he knew also that he was to kill this beautiful girl. Why else had he come so far and killed so many? If he'd killed Elliot justly, then this girl would have to be next.
She turned and motioned for him to follow. Her small frame disappeared through the narrow opening of a door left slightly ajar. A dim light shone through it into the dark hallway.
He paused in the hall. It would be simplest to kill her quickly. No sense in getting attached.
He readied his weapon, pulled open the door and stepped into the room.
"Never send a man to do a machine's work," a man's voice said laughingly as our hero entered the room. "That's what Elliot used to say."
Two shadowy figures stood beside a curtained window. The small one was surely Paige. The other -- tall and thin -- brought a cigarette to its lips.
"Don't you remember? Or have you been cleared of such memories?"
"I don't remember much," our hero said, squinting through the dimness.
"No, I don't suppose you do. Elliot's men would have seen to that."
Paige turned toward the other figure. "So he's not Elliot? I thought..."
"Don't be so naive, child. This man probably killed Elliot. Isn't that right, friend?"
Our hero stood silently, still holding his gun. Thinking.
The tall, thin figure took two steps forward into the dim light coming through the curtain.
"Tell me, friend. Do you know my face?" he said.
Our hero looked...
Submitted by Martin Hotchin, 20th March 2003:
Our hero looked ... squinted, struggling to see the man's face in the dimness, as the man came closer it was pretty obvious he knew the man's face, but where from, when has he seen this man before?
"I may have seen you before, but i can't remember where from"
"I didn’t think you would"
"Then why ask?"
The tall thin figure brought up his arm to reveal a short shining blade held firmly in his hand, he pressed the dagger gently against our hero’s throat.
He gulped, even though his mouth was dry, he felt the blade against his adam’s apple, the coldness of it sent shivers down his spine.
He looked at the tall figure who was grinning at him, the tall figure took another drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke upwards in to the air, the smoke seemed to freeze up there, not moving.
The tall figure opened his mouth and whispered...
Submitted by Sam F, 28th April 2003:
"Call it a test, my friend." With that, the figure chuckled, still smiling, and replaced the knife to its sheath along his wrist.
In a louder, conversational tone, he said, "Call it verification. When that unreliable Elliot didn't reply to the letter we sent him, he had to be dealt with. It would just be bad business to leave such a matter unattended, especially in times like these." The same smile crossed his face again, and he resumed after a short pause.
"Of course, it would also be bad business to not gather some intel on him first. A man like you should know such things. Elliot, the fool, would never have set his precious traitorous machines to kill; they were loaded with a drug to erase memory. Those things never miss. Too many of us have had experience with them to know that." Again, the face of the as yet unnamed man contorted into a poorly-timed smile.
"Your memory will return shortly: your name, my face, your mission. Take a chair, I'll explain more..."
Submitted by Thomas Klovert, 2nd May 2003:
"If those um...things can erase memory," replied our hero "then why can I partially remember things?"
"How much do you remember?" asked the tall thin man as he bit into a cheeseburger he had just bought. He looked slightly agitated.
"I remember..." then it hit him. He remembered the fight, the betrayal, the murder, and the last few remainders of the space colony as he flew away in his ship. He also remembered who killed his family. "Damn you...Goddamn you all too hell. How the hell could you do this to me? You all killed my family."
"I'm sorry," replied the tall thin man, "we ha..."
The man couldn't finish his sentence before our hero leaped up with unknown power and grabbed his opponent by the neck and twisted it. He grabbed a gun the tall man dropped and took out his pain on everyone in the room. Before he died, the tall thin man said his last words, "You--have--no--god...god...goddamn--family!"
A mysterious womanly voice from the door then said, "Good job, it took you long enough, though"
Submitted by Richard David Greenwood, 13th May 2003:
Our hero whirled around to face the voice, raising his gun and taking aim in one swift movement.
"Who are you?" he said
"There's no need for the gun," she whispered, walking slowly toward him "I am your friend, your last hope in this world. You have questions and I have answers." She stopped just in front of the muzzle of the gun "I've been waiting for you for some time, it would be a shame for you to just...kill me now....don't you think?
Slowly, his brow loosened, and he lowered the gun. There was something strangely magnetic about her, he was mesmerized by her eyes and captivated by her long black hair. Her skin had the faintest tinge of blue, like she had been frozen and had only began to thaw.
"Who are you?" He asked again,
"All in good time..." she whispered, "...all in good time" And before he knew it, she was walking out of the door. She stopped and half turned in the doorway, her hair blowing in the breeze
"Come with me" she said as she walked through the door.
Submitted by Shan of the Forest, 15th August 2003:
He followed her contentedly for it was past time to relinquish the part of the hero that generations of his ancestors had played out over and over again. Quickly slipping off the extra pair of underpants he had been wearing over his tights he breathed a sigh of relief.
She passed onwards through stairways of stone, through shadowed orchards where serpents glared, but he was not afraid. Was he not guided by the Maid herself? Her dark tresses floated back to him scented of jasmine and honeysuckle, her bare feet soundless.
Through great gates of bronze she took him, and far across the desert of despair. Never faltering, he followed faithfully, undaunted. The Maid forgot about him, intent on her quest, her feet padding on bare rock. But Paige did not forget as she stumbled exhausted behind, determined, devoted. At last the Maid and her attendants came to her destination. Winds roared around them, and the darkness grew cold and bleak: ice glazed the ground.
Suddenly a solid shadow reared up into the jewelled skies, colossal, awesome. Eyes like star pits gleamed downward; spiked muscles sparked and flashed, claws the length of her arm gripped the rock to each side of her.
The Maid raised her hands above her head in the ancient hieratic mode of invocation. The wind stilled, and her voice streamed out on seven levels of sound. "...
Submitted by Matt Squirrell, 16th October 2003:
"Great Orthanlogin!" she screamed, "Here is the man for who you have searched! Now, you may destroy him!"
"Bitch." said Our Hero as the creature tensed, "I'm gonna kill you!"
"I think not," she said, "You left your gun back at the city."
"Actually," said Our Hero, "I left the smoking man's gun back at the city. I've still got my P90."
The Maid open her mouth to reply, and our hero shot her in it. She balanced for a second, then fell to the floor, her foot twitching.
At the same moment, the huge creature stopped dead, and with a feaful cracking sound, turned slowly into stone.
"Pwned." said Our Hero.
"That was all very impressive," said Paige, "But now we're miles away from the city, and no-one can show us the way back!"
Submitted by Thomas Klovert, 2nd November 2003:
"Good point...well...I guess we should get wal..." He suddenly stopped talking.
"What? What is it?!" asked Paige
"Did the Maid just say that that creature's name was Orthanlogin?" He asked.
"I think so...Why does it matter?"
"That was what I had heard my father scream out before he..."
"I understand." she said.
Suddenly the Orthanlogin opened its mouth and...
Submitted by Gary Belcher, 12th November 2003:
...let out an almighty roar of defiance as the final stages of his stone incarceration set in. But by then they were already running away from the monster as fast as they could. After putting some distance between them and the now stone incarcerated Orthanlogin, they came to a rest by an old tree.
"You have some explaining to do," Our Hero said, panting, trying to catch his breath.
"I don't know what you're talking about," came the reply from an equally out of breath Paige.
This enraged Our Hero. In one quick movement he pushed her hard up against the old tree. "You know what I'm talking about - tell me, tell me now!"
"You're hurting me!" she cried. He stood firm, pushing his weight against her.
"Ok, ok - I'll explain. You need to know sometime anyway."
Our Hero relaxed his hold and stepped back. Paige took a minute or two to compose herself and then began. "You'll want to sit down," she said.
Our Hero perched himself on a small rock nearby. "Ok, let's hear it."
"The prophecy tells of a great war that will occur very soon between us and the machines. But the prophecy also tells us of a man who will be sent to lead us in this coming war - that man is you."
Our Hero looked at her, wide-eyed in disbelief. "I... I... don't understand. This is crazy... it doesn't make sense. What about Elliot, the piece of paper with the address that led me to you and the Tall Thin Man? And what about The Maid I just killed.. and that, that thing Orthanlogin?" Suddenly, his tone became sterner. "If you're bullshitting me I swear I will-"
Paige put a finger to her lips, motioning him to stay quiet - there was more.
"I know you don't remember much," she continued. "But your memory will come back to you in time. You remember killing Elliot, and finding that piece of paper with the address on... but I'm sure you can't remember why you killed him." She paused to let him try and remember.
Our Hero racked his brain... nothing would come. He shook his head.
"Elliot was a traitor," she continued. "He was a spy working for the machines. We'd never of suspected him, but fortunately for us he was careless. The Tall Thin Man sent that letter to Elliot as bait, hoping to lure him to our house in order to interrogate him - we couldn't get a snatch team inside his own home as it was heavily defended by the machines. When Elliot didn't take the bait, it was decided to assassinate him - and that's where you come in."
Paige sat down beside Our Hero, pushed her long hair back behind her ears, and continued.
"I don't know the precise details of how the Tall Thin Man recruited you - only that you came from a far away monastery - but recruited you were, and you accepted the mission to assassinate Elliot. Of course, we didn't let you go alone - we sent a covert ops team to shadow you, just in case. You already know you completed your mission and killed Elliot, but what you don't know is that upon escaping his house you were hit by one of the machines. Remember, Elliot only set those machines to fire a memory-erasing drug - not to kill - but when you stayed down after you were hit, the ops team shadowing you thought you were dead and retreated."
Our Hero rose from his rocky seat and began pacing back and forth. He was clearly struggling to come to terms with what he was being told.
"I know it's difficult to comprehend right now," Paige said softly. "But this is the sole reason why I wanted to wait until your memory was a little better."
Our Hero stopped pacing and turned to look at Paige. "So what happened then?"
"Only you know that. But somewhere in amongst it all, you found the Tall Thin Man's letter, saw the address and followed it back here, hoping to find answers." She stopped momentarily, using her hands to brush back the strands of hair that had again fallen across her face. "The prophecy tells of a brave man from a holy place, who kills the traitor who betrayed us, and that when this man returns to the place from where he was sent - mission successfully completed - it is a sign to us that he is to be the one to lead us in the coming war."
Our Hero, now leaning against the old tree, as if weakened somewhat by what he had been told, let out a long, slow breath of air and shook his head.
"Don't you see?" Paige said, as she rose and strode purposely towards him. "The prophecy is coming true!"
"If this prophecy really is coming true," Our Hero said. "There's still one thing I don't understand, one thing that doesn't fit right. When I spoke to the Tall Thin Man, why did those visions of him killing my family occur? Why can't I recollect them now? And, furthermore, why did I kill him?"
Paige stood for motionless for a moment or two - that violent scene playing over and over in her head. She closed her eyes. Both she and the Tall Thin Man knew it would happen. The prophecy had told them so. But what part did The Maid and Orthanlogin have in all this? That wasn't in the prophecy...
"We managed to acquire a sample of that memory-erasing drug. Our limited research revealed that not only does it temporarily erase memory, but it is also a powerful hallucinogen, capable of causing the brain to produce frightening visions, which can be mistaken for actual memories."
Our Hero felt a sudden pang of guilt. "So... so I killed him for no reason at all? I just imagined it? I.. I don't know what to say... I... I'm..."
"It wasn't your fault," Paige interjected. "Besides, the Tall Thin Man knew he was going to die - the prophecy had foretold this. When he held that knife to your throat back there, I thought he was going to kill you to save himself. But something in his eyes told me that he knew he had to die. Killing you would jeopardise the chances of us winning the war. He believed, as I do, that the prophecy was coming true."
"And my family?" Our Hero said. He remembered vaguely that memory of whom he thought was his father screaming the name "Orthanlogin", but perhaps that was just another false vision caused by the effects of the memory-erasing drug.
"It is as the Tall Thin Man told you," Paige replied. "You have no family."
Silence followed as Our Hero, still leaning against the old tree, struggled to come to terms with what he had been told. Paige couldn't even begin to imagine what he was feeling right now. She felt so sorry for telling him so early, but he'd made quite a point of wanting to know. Still, it would all return to him in time - every last detail. She allowed him a few more minutes to let what she had told him sink in.
"Come on," she said finally. "Lets go - there is much to do."