Random Dollhouse story :)
Everything is from the genious Joss Whedon. (I think I spelled genious wrong...)
Chapter 1
Active: River
Imprint: Alison
I blinked and opened my eyes as the chair I was sitting on gently tilted up. I loved my treatments. I was calm and peaceful for a few moments before getting excited; today was the day I got to go on my first date with Brian Martin! He was the guy everyone crushed on in middle school. I'd been crushing on him since sixth grade!
I glanced around at the treatment room. The confusing-looking machines beeped like always, and Chris, the guy who ran them was bent over one. Mark, the man who always took care of me when I came in for treatments, and notified me when I needed another, smiled at me. It was a kind smile, but it didn't reach his deep brown eyes.
"Hello Riv—Alison," he greeted, "how are you feeling?"
What had he been about to call me? Mark knew me ever since I'd started getting treatments—almost seven years ago! "I feel great!" I responded excitedly, "Wait! What time is it? I have to meet Brian!"
"Don't worry, Alison, you have plenty of time," Mark seemed slightly annoyed and impatient, "Let's go get you an outfit!"
That was another reason I liked coming in for treatments; a free outfit every time! "On the house" the lady always said when she helped me pick out one.
"Oh, and Alison," Chris turned from the machine, finger in the air, "You're going to need another treatment right after your date with… who is it again?"
"Brian," I replied dreamily.
"Ah, yes. So right after your date with Brian, find Mark and come immediately back here," He instructed.
"Alright," I agreed, "I enjoy my treatments."
Mark and Chris shared a worried look. Topher was about to say something, but Mark beat him to it, "Ready to go, Alison?" He offered me his large, calloused hand, and helped me from the chair.
He led me to the elevator, a plush, silent thing. I was usually slightly claustrophobic, and didn't like elevators, but this one didn't scare me. We walked down several identical, whitewashed hallways before entering a room full of people trying on different outfits. Sort of like a boutique.
I knew the drill. I left Mark to sit by the other handlers and… Wait, handlers? What does that mean? Where did I hear that? Why did I think of that?
I shrugged it off and followed the nicely-dressed lady into the giant, dimly-lit clothing warehouse. They showed me different outfits before I settled on a tight, purple wrap dress that showed off my tiny waist and made my irritatingly small chest look fuller. I wore bright red heels that increased my measly five foot two height to five foot six. I held a red clutch and chunky red bracelets clinked on my skinny wrist.
I inspected myself in the mirror and had to agree that I looked good. My rib-length thin blonde hair was tied into a flared bun. My pale blue eyes looked mysterious and dangerous accentuated with dramatic eyeliner and mascara.
Mark looked surprised when I returned from the dressing room, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the tight dress.
"Ready, Alison?" Mark held out his suited arm, as if we were going on a prom date. He helped me back into an elevator and then into a black van.
"Is this really how we're getting to a five-star restaurant?" I chided.
"It's quite classy," Mark reassured me.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I'm just nervous about the date."
"Don't be," he comforted me, "It will be… perfect."
I nodded. The windows were spray-painted, so no one could see out or in. The driver eventually slid to a stop and Mark helped me from the van. The street was dark and not many people were on it. A club boomed in the distance and a few loose papers blew down the street.
"This? This is where I'm meeting Brian?" I questioned accusingly.
"Don't worry Alison. Do you trust me?" Mark asked teasingly.
"With my life," I replied automatically.
Mark then smiled and pulled the van's door closed. The driver peeled away, producing exhaust to blow in front of me, causing a dramatic effect as Brian walked up.
His hair was long and shaggy, a dark brown color. His eyes were glittering blue. "Alison," he breathed softly, then coughed. "What's with all the smoke?" He laughed.
"I don't know," I giggled, "They drop me off and just leave!"
"You look amazing," he smiled, his white teeth shining in the dark.
"Same with you," I grabbed his brown jacket, pulling him closer to me.
"Ready to go?" He asked, wrapping his arms around my waist. We linked arms and he pulled me a little further down the street, and then down a darker alley.
"Bri—Brian?" I asked nervously.
"Trust me," He smiled mischievously. He pulled open a dark, rusty door and stepped inside, closing it behind us. The room was completely black, I couldn't see anything. The only thing I could feel was Brian's hand around my waist.
Suddenly, he pushed back some sort of curtain, revealing a beautiful restaurant. The seats were as dark as a shadow, the tables were ebony, and candles were set everywhere to create a romantic, dramatic effect.
A man in a midnight blue suit came up to us, smiling. "Hello," he greeted, "Two?"
Brian nodded, "Table in the back, please."
"Right this way," He led us to the back.
Back here was darker and dustier than the rest of the restaurant, but I liked it. Brian and I sat down across from each other, a waxy, yellow candle between us. The man handed us each a menu, then sauntered away. The menu was as black as the seats, with white swirly print. For some reason it reminded me of a ghost.
Suddenly, my head exploded with pain. I cried out and dropped the menu, five words coming to mind. You can't catch a ghost. I opened my eyes to see Brian leaning forward, touching my arm gently. My hand was pressed to the side of my head, as if that would calm my throbbing head. Then, the pain slowly subsided until it was only a dull ache.
"I-I'm fine," I promised, "So… uh, how'd you find this place?"
Brian looked shaken, but decided to drop it, "A friend told me about it. Top notch."
"What's good?" I asked, cautiously glancing back at the menu.
"The spaghettis au fromage," Brian suggested.
"Okay," I agreed, afraid to look back down at the menu.
As Brian ordered, I thought about the strange words that I had thought of when I'd got my sudden headache. You can't catch a ghost. What did that mean? I had a distinct memory of someone being kidnapped, and a beautiful brunette saying the words. I don't remember anyone I knew getting kidnapped when I was younger. Why had I thought of those words?
"So…" Brian had finished ordering, and was trying to make conversation.
"I… uh, haven't seen you since high school," I started, "how've you been doing?"
"I've been going to college here in LA., Westwood College," Brian explained. "Uh… how about you?" He asked, looking uncomfortable. "Ha, ha," Brian laughed uncomfortably. He did think I was a stalker. "I'm studying to be a science teacher."
"Cool," I replied.
"What—what else do you remember about me?" He sat forward, chin on his hand, looking interested.
"I—You were the most popular guy at our school. I've—I've had a crush on you since like… seventh grade," I blurted out, a nervous laugh following.
"Really?" He smiled, looking surprised.
"Yeah," I looked down at my hands, "You—you never even looked at me though. You had you're 'perfect' girlfriend; Amy."
"Amy? I don't remember her! Tell me about her," Brian looked attentive and happy.
"A—Amy? You don't remember her?" I asked, incredulous, "You guys were together for like three years!"
"I don't. The only girl on my mind right now—and well, for the past few weeks—has been… you."
"Really?" I looked up, excited, and saw his teasing face. "Oh shut up!" I laughed, and punched his arm playfully.
He smiled, "No, really! But, honestly, tell me about this 'Amy' chick. I've got no idea who she is."
"She was like, tall and… skinny. She had bright red hair. You truly don't remember her? You guys had a nasty breakup," I explained, using my hands to talk.
Brian laughed, "Nasty? Like how bad?"
"She, uh…" I paused, "Weird, I—I don't remember."
Brian's smile faded, "What—what do you mean?"
"I don't remember. But the whole school was, like, talking about it for like two weeks!" I tried to get Brian's easy smile back.
He gave a half-hearted one. "Really?" He asked snidely, mocking me.
Suddenly, a guy walked through the curtain.
I don't know why it bothered me, lots of people had been walking through the curtains. But this one, he was… different. I felt like I'd seen him before. Alpha, popped into my head.
Alpha?
I glanced at the man. He was tall and slightly muscular, with dark yellow hair and blue eyes. He wore loose-fitting pants and a blank blue t-shirt. He looked completely out of place in the fancy restaurant. Why did he give me a creepy feeling?
He saw me and randomly started walking over. I quickly looked away, back at Brian, trying to get back into the conversation.
The man eventually reached our table and put a rough hand on my bare shoulder. I started, nearly falling out of my chair. Brian jumped up, "Hey! What are you doing?"
"Where's Echo?" The man hissed into my ear, "Where is she?"
Echo? Who's Echo? I asked in my head, but no sound came out of my mouth. Suddenly, men in black burst through the curtain, nearly ripping it apart. They came straight for us, for the man grabbing my shoulder. They grabbed him by the arms, hauling him away from me. A woman asked him in as calm a voice as she could manage, "Would you—you like a treatment, O-Omega?"
The man suddenly went calm, "I enjoy my treatments."
Mark ran up to me, "Alison! You must come with me, now!"
"What—what's going on?" I asked.
"Sorry, Brian," Mark talked over my head, "You'll get fifty percent back." Fifty percent of what?
"Wait!" I heard Brian call as Mark pulled me from the restaurant.
"Please, Mark! Tell me what's going on!" I pleaded as we drove back to the place where I got my treatments.
"No time, you need a treatment," Mark replied, marching me to the elevators.
I felt suddenly calm, "I would like a treatment, please."
"Of—of course," Mark seemed shaken.
A woman helped me dress and I sat in the chair. It lowered slowly and I gave Mark and Topher a big grin as the fluorescent blue light shined around my head.
I felt it pulling at my memories. I tried desperately to hold onto them, but they slipped away like water cupped in your palm. Brian, talking to me, the odd words I'd thought of, the Alpha/Omega man, they were all snatched away in a single second. My last thought was; is this what it feels like to die?
