Memory in Death
The first impression that came to mind was nothing. There was nothing. No sounds. No light. No feeling. No up and no down. Only darkness.
What is going on?
Where am I?
Who am I?
No feeling, no memories. Shouldn't there be memories? A life? A name? There was only darkness. But through the darkness, things began to filter in. There was something...sound?
"Hey, I knew this guy." Words. It were words. Words that could be understood. Somebody spoke.
"He was Blacklight."
He?
So he was a 'he'. A man. Blacklight?
"Yeah. Well now, he's ex-Blacklight." A second voice.
What do you mean with 'Ex'? Through the darkness, more and more came to his attention. The smells- sharp and stinging. Something hot piercing him. Somewhere...in the middle?
Was this his body?
"His name is..." He paused, trying to focus on the words. "Mercer. Alex J."
So I am Alex? He tried saying that name, though he couldn't move, couldn't move his tongue. However, the name meant nothing to him. But he was Alex, wasn't he? Who was he?
"Next of kin...Mercer, Dana A." Another name. Not his? Not familiar. Shouldn't it be familiar? "Is that his wife?" He didn't know. Because he never heard that name before.
Before...had there been a 'before'?
"Don't know."
"Do you think this has anything to do with the test subject on fifty-one?"
He could feel the sudden change in the atmosphere. Before it had been... confusion... bewilderment. Now it was...fear?
"I have no idea, and even more, I don't want to know." No! He needed to know! He tried to get up, open his eyes- anything! But his body didn't respond. He had a body, he was sure of it, but it just didn't move. He felt like he was made of...something heavy. Lead? Something in his head said lead is pretty heavy.
His head felt like it was hollow, though. No memories, no idea who he was, where he was...only the increasing painful hotness spreading from the middle of his torso. The more his consciousness came back to him, the more he became aware of how much his body hurt. It was as if something made of white-hot solid fire had been jabbed repeatedly into his stomach and chest, and it started to settle in his head too. It was as if something was writhing beneath his skin, curling in agony.
He just wanted it to stop.
"Just give me the eight-inch-blade."
Blade?!
...He didn't know what a 'blade' was (there was something at the edge of his mind, but he couldn't place it), but it didn't sound too good.
"We'll start by going in through the torso."
Torso? My torso?!
He didn't like the implications. Something in the mess that was his brain told him that they were going to do something to him. The burning in his chest only became stronger and suddenly he realized that he wasn't breathing.
Breathing was important for people, right?
He needed to breathe.
His eyes flew open and he let out a strangled gasp as he took in a massive gulp of air, filling his hurting lungs. It was like he was breathing for the first time, and his chest felt like it was on fire- but it didn't stop him from sitting up abruptly and staring wide-eyed at the two men in the room.
He realized in an instant that they were like he was (probably). Though they wore...bulky clothes, and their faces were hidden. For a split second he'd thought they weren't people at all, but rather something like...monsters, until he recognized their bodies. Two arms, two legs, a torso and a head. Like him.
But...why did they wear these weird clothes?
And why...why did the room smell of fear?
One was holding a small shiny thing in his hand, the other a flat board. They backed off while his head whipped from side to side in panic. What was going on? Who were they?
What did they want to do with him?
He didn't know, and it made him terrified.
"Get the fuck out!" One of the men yelled, not to him, but to his companion. Alex (he was pretty sure he was Alex) made a garbled noise, tried to tell them to stay- he had so many questions. But as his body tilted to the front, the men backed off even more.
"Get the kill team in here, NOW!" The other man shouted. Both spun on their heels and raced out of the room. Alex groaned and rolled off the...table (?) he was on, trying to steady himself.
But his legs didn't respond, so he collapsed more or less to the ground, bowling something over in his attempt. His fingers dug into the cold and hard surface he'd been on. His legs were shaking badly, and he couldn't get them to take his weight.
The room was dyed in red light and a noise started blaring into his ears. He jerked back, eyes wide.
What was going on?
Where was he?
Who were these men? And why did they run?
Have to get out.
He didn't know why, but he knew he couldn't stay here. Something in his chest fluttered and slammed almost painfully against his hurting chest. His heart? He was...scared. Wasn't he?
He glanced down, furrowing his brow at the sight of red splattered across his torso. His clothes were different to what the men from before had been wearing. But he could tell that those red splotches definitely did not belong there. Out of curiosity, he poked one finger at the closest spot, flinching back when it hurt even more than anything he'd experienced before.
He ground his teeth together and dropped his hand, hoping that the pain would go away eventually. For the moment, there were more pressing matters. He knew he couldn't afford staying here. He had to get out and somewhere safe.
The men here could have told him much about himself. But they've run away.
And if he didn't want to find out what a 'Kill Team' was, he'd better get out too. He grunted and shoved himself off the table to stumble towards the exit the men from before fled through. It was...harder than he thought it would be. His legs, long and lanky as they were, absolutely refused to hold his weight and tried to go into different directions each.
By the time he actually stumbled through the doorway (?), he had managed to persuade them to move into the direction he wanted to go, at least. But he still wasn't out. He was just in another room, a long-stretched one, hallway, something in his head whispered. He saw more doors to every side.
Where was the way out?
Not through one of those other doors, he was certain of this. But... He squinted at a green sign that showed a pointed object, a rectangle and a little figure. Recognition bloomed in his head: it was a sign that told him where the exit was.
He took off in that direction, but the noise still howling in his ears made his back itch uncomfortably. Plus his clothes were too restricting. It was irritating how they pressed against his skin, how unyielding they were. Each step jostled the red splotches on his chest too, causing them to sting and hurt, and he was panting by the time he made it to a set of steps that lead upwards. But he was moving now, and he wouldn't stop until he made it out of here.
The uneasy feeling remained, though. Who was he, asides from 'Mercer, Alex J.'?
Where was he?
Why was it so important that he'd get out of here?
He could still smell the men who escaped. They went along here too, tried to escape this place as well. Why? Were they scared of him?
The pounding in his chest increased in intensity, sending flashes of hot pain rip through his body for every step he took. But it didn't stop him. If anything, it only made him move outside more urgently. Something had happened, and he needed to figure out what.
Maybe that other person could help him? That...Dana? He never heard that name before, but then again, he had no clue who he was.
His memories were gone. And he couldn't even remember the words for most of the things he encountered on his way out of this trap he was in. He hoped he would figure it out soon enough.
Grunting, he managed to pull himself up another set of steps, stumbling only a couple of times. He was so tired and his chest and head hurt and he had no idea what was going on- but he had to get away.
He turned left and ended up in a big room with walls made of see-through material. Glass. The door there was similar, and on the other side- darkness. Not another room...but dark sky and tall buildings.
Outside!
His breathing hitched and he instantly made a line for the transparent door. It slid open with a soft hiss. He panted, sucking in the cool evening air with his strangled gasps. His chest hurt when he dared to breathe too deeply, but the oppressive feeling of being trapped let up finally.
He noticed that it wasn't as dark out here as he thought it would be, harsh lights chased away the shadows.
And then he realized that he was in the open. He was in danger.
The pounding in his chest and head sped up once more as he whipped around at the feeling of somebody looking at him.
But he was alone.
Alex tried to move away, when he stumbled to the front with a grunt. He didn't stop moving though and managed to awkwardly use one hand for balance as he struggled back to his feet.
His breaths came out in low panicking chokes. His back was bristling. He was too vulnerable out here. He needed to find a safe place.
And then he heard it. A sound he never heard before. Something was coming. Something that sounded as if it was repeatedly beating...the air?
He ducked behind a large object- he did recognize it, but couldn't tell what exactly it was- it had four wheels and was made of smooth cold metal. Car. It was a car. Wasn't it?
The beating got louder and Alex carefully glanced around, until he found the source- in the air.
His eyes widened at the sight of another object coming down. It was bigger than the car he was hiding behind, and it flew. Its wings were on its top and spinning fast enough to allow it just that. He knew he knew this thing, or sort of thing, from somewhere. He just couldn't tell what it was, but he could tell that it meant trouble.
His head hurt too much to be thinking clearly.
His breathing hitched when he noticed the two men from before, joined by a third one, who stood on the place behind the building. The flying vehicle descended, and he held his breath when four black-clad men poured out of it. These men- they looked even less human than the men Alex woke up to. Three were completely black, one was black and white. They didn't have faces, but rather small glowing lenses- the three black ones two blue ones each, the one with the white sleeves three green ones. He was their leader, he realized.
But they also had something with them...something long. All four of them held one clutched in their hands. Sleek and black and metallic. His entire body clenched at the sight of those things. He didn't know what they were- but he knew they were dangerous. Rags of memories welled up inside of him, memories of pain and fire and noise. He didn't like it, wanted to be as far away from these things as he could- but he remained there, rooted to the spot.
The leader was currently yelling at the three men in the bulky suits. Bewilderment took over Alex and he forgot for a moment that he was trying to get away. What is going on there?
He focused, trying to listen in. "Listen! I'm authorized to shoot and burn your fucking corpse!" The man in the bulky suit waved his hand and was about to turn away, when the man in black and white made a sign.
The guy on his left suddenly lifted the object he was holding and a loud crack rang out. One of the men in the bulky suits collapsed. Guns, his head suddenly screamed at him, these were guns. And they were used for killing.
Alex's breathing had stopped, his eyes were blown wide. There was red, so much red- red like the splatters on his chest. And the man wasn't moving anymore. More cracks rang out and the other two in those bulky suits collapsed too. So much red- so much blood.
Startled, he realized that they were dead. Not alive anymore.
Shit! Get the Kill Team in here! Now!
This was it. This was this 'Kill Team'.
He had to get away.
Alex turned away, though did keep an eye on the men in black as he tried to edge away from the car he was hiding behind, but he accidentally hooked one foot behind one of the wheels. As he moved, it bounced away awkwardly.
He froze, knowing fully well his cover was blown. "Ah. Shit."
His legs twitched once, and he was running. He dashed to the side, hoping to get past the soldiers.
"All points! Priority Target! Priority Target!" No such luck.
Alex swore and risked a glance to the front, stopping dead in his tracks. He was trapped! A wall to his side, another wall and a metal container to the front, and these guys in black on his other side.
No way out.
He gasped when the men approached him, those guns aimed directly at him.
Speak. He had to speak to them. He had to tell them that he wasn't a threat. He needed help.
"Wa-wa-wait! Wait!" He pleaded with a hoarse voice, hands up in a gesture of submission. He didn't want to die, because he has no idea who he was. He wanted to know who he was.
"Take him down!"
They didn't want to help. Their guns roared and piercing hot fire slammed into his chest. Alex screamed in agony, as he collapsed to his knees.
Get away
Get away
Get away!
His body was writhing in white-hot pain, and he could smell the acrid stench of the guns and blood. His blood.
But he was still breathing. He was still alive.
The men in the bulky suits were dead. But he was still alive. Even though the guns hit him, even though the guns have eaten their way inside him.
Why?
"What's-" He gasped and his body convulsed once. Then his legs became steadier than they had been and he pushed himself back upright. "What's happening to me?!"
And then he smelled fear. The men in front of him swayed slightly, and stepped back when he looked at them. They were afraid?
Of him?
He couldn't stay here. He threw a look to the side, eyed the wall. It was tall, but not as tall as the other. There was wire on top of it- and more importantly- the weird metal container was below. It smelled bad, but maybe...maybe it would give him enough height to climb over the wall?
"Get him!" Alex grunted and forced himself to dash the last few steps towards the metal container, then swung himself on it.
He wanted to hop up from its surface and cling to the metal bars atop the wall, when his legs suddenly kicked out with so much strength, he found himself leaping clearly over it.
Gasping, he hit the floor on the other side, his entire frame jostled by the sudden impact.
He blinked, and slowly turned to glance at the obstacle. Too high. Too high for people to simply jump over it like he did just before.
"That was...easy..." It wasn't normal. Humans don't jump this high.
Alex shook his head. Whatever this was, he didn't have time to think about it. He could hear the men on the other side shout.
He had to get away.
His head whipped back to the side, where he saw a door made of metal bars. And behind it- more people. And cars. Lots of them. Maybe he would be able to hide between them and the people?
His chest throbbed again, and he bit back an agonized groan. "I need to get the fuck out of here", he grunted as he pulled himself towards the metal door. "Can't keep this up forever."
He was still hurting, and he needed to rest.
But he had to be fast. He grunted once, and sped up, rushing towards the obstacle between himself and the people on the other side. The metal door wasn't as high as the wall had been and Alex easily jumped over it, hitting the floor on the other side. He did spy a sign at the building on the other side. '20th Street'. Street- yeah, that was the name.
He heard startled yelps and he turned to eye the people there. He grimaced, realizing that he was still splattered with his own blood. Because he had been attacked by these guns, and he was pretty sure they'd done so before he woke up.
Maybe that was why he couldn't remember?
He heard to roar of the flying object again, and whirled around, eyes widening at the sight of the thing bearing down on him. "No no no"
Alex started running. Breathing hurt, but he had to get away. He ran to the front, between two buildings to get to another street, then turned sharply left, hoping to shake the flying object.
There were more cars on the street, but Alex paid them no attention. He was running. Running fast- faster than them? Huh.
A part of his brain realized that he was running faster than them, and he wasn't even breathing hard. It wasn't exerting in any way, and he would have loved to know why, but then he heard the beating noise of the flying object again and all those thoughts were wiped from his mind.
He turned and continued running, through the streets and past every of those other cars. The flying thing was still after him, so Alex threw himself to the side and into another gap between those giant buildings. It bought him a few moments, but he didn't stop. Instead, he raced out of the other side and continued to go down the streets.
His body was throbbing painfully, and his head threatened to split open. He needed a safe place to rest, but not as long these men were after him. A car came at him entirely too fast, and Alex grit his teeth in preparation for the collision.
His body moved without his say-so, jumping off the floor and over the metal of the car, and he heard startled shrieks from within. There were people inside? He had no time to check when he hit the floor on the other end of the thing and continued running, without even slowing down. But the streets were too full. Too many people. Every time he saw a group of them, something drove another shard of burning-hot fire through his head and his vision briefly went white. It was dangerous- he couldn't lose himself. Not with those bastards on his ass that were still trying to kill him.
He had to get away from the streets, but how?
Another gap appeared on his right and he instantly changed his course, but he was going too fast and the gap was too narrow. He swore, knowing that he would collide with the wall and it was going to hurt. He braced himself, and again, his body acted on its own. He pounced off the floor, twisting his legs to the front on instinct. His shoes hit the side of the building, but he didn't bounce off or break through. Instead, he pushed himself upwards- and continued running.
Up the wall. Against gravity.
Alex hissed in surprise, but didn't dare slowing down. Because he was running up the wall.
Humans don't do this. Humans can't do this. Can they?
The flying vehicle came at him again, and Alex veered to the side, his hold on the wall never breaking, even as he managed to get around the corner and rush along the side that was closest to the street. Stone and the glass cracked beneath his feet, and he heard the men inside the flying thing swear. Then he heard another roar, one similar to the guns, but much louder. The wall behind him cracked and broke open.
They used guns again. On him. They tried to kill him.
Fuck
He was too vulnerable here. Alex swung to the side and jumped off the wall, crossing the street when his heart made a startled leap in his chest. He shouldn't jump around like this- what if he dropped to the street? He would splatter all over the ground!
He hit the opposite building easily enough and continued running, all without even slowing down much. He forced himself to breathe again when he had stopped in fear. It wasn't normal. He wasn't normal. Could this be the reason they were after him? He didn't die when they shot him, after all.
The wall beneath his foot exploded in a shower of stone. Alex swore when he found himself flailing through the air. No walls to hold to, no floor to stand upon- only the street far below.
He coiled his body and twisted himself around, legs outstretched as the ground came to meet him. The shock of the impact raced through his entire system, but apart from his teeth being rattled and the air knocked from his lungs, he found it wasn't too unpleasant.
He didn't know how, since he was sure humans wouldn't survive this.
But the most important thing was- he did survive. And that meant he was still able to get away. Around him, people screamed, but he paid it no mind. The flying thing was still after him, so he ducked low as he sped up some more, ignoring the sharp sting from his chest as he forced himself to breathe deep to get enough air into his lungs.
He continued running, dashed along the street. The cars in front of him veered to the side, making loud and angry noises that made him wince.
And then he heard it. A loud and hateful hiss, coming from behind him. He tried to run faster when suddenly something hit him with incredible force in a blast of fire and pain.
"Shit!"
It send him stumbling to the front, but also snapped one of those yellow cars up. It flew from the force of the impact, and careened right over his head. Alex didn't think, he just acted. He whirled around and threw his arms up in a feeble attempt to stop it. But it was too heavy, flying too fast- he wouldn't have a chance to stop it, right?
His flat palms met resistance, and his knees buckled upon making contact, so he dropped to one knee and slid back. In an instant, his body writhed and suddenly he stopped skipping all together.
The car was above him, held aloft only through his two hands, and it wasn't heavy at all.
Alex blinked, then felt his rage mount. These bastards just tried to kill him. He got back to his feet, car still hefted overhead, as he glared at the flying bastard.
"What are you going to throw at me next, huh?!" He howled. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"
The four men from before descended from the flying vehicle. Alex's eyes flicked to them. They were still down the street...at a large enough distance. For now, he was safe.
But the black flying bastard was too close.
He wanted it gone.
Without thinking, he flung his arms to the front, chucking the car he was still holding at it.
He would never have expected it to fly across the entire distance, but it did. Wasn't too hard either, but he still watched in shock as it collided with the flying thing. There was a loud crack and the thing dropped to the ground, its front side caved in completely.
The men underneath were squashed flat in an instant.
People around screamed and ran away, while Alex just stood there, staring in disbelief.
"I-" He swallowed. "I can't believe what I just did..."
He just killed four men at least (though logic dictated that there had been more of them), but this wasn't what worried him- he had just thrown an object that was both, larger and way heavier than he was, had thrown it over an immense distance, and destroyed an even larger object. This wasn't normal. He wasn't normal.
He heard whispers, and felt stares on his back. His stomach lurched and his chest heaved. Shit. They saw. He was in the open. The streets weren't safe.
He had to get away.
A twelve-story building to the side took his attention. The flying thing was gone, so up there it should be safer, right? He began to run, then leapt up and planted both feet against the wall of the building, before he pushed upwards. Again, it was easy to him to simply continue running upwards against gravity. He wondered how this was possible, and then he wondered how he was supposed to get to the roof once he reached it?
He pondered for the split second it took him to reach the edge of the roof, then decided to simply hop upwards. He carefully angled his body to catapult himself away from the street side. He hit the tared roof with a slightly awkward position, but did manage to stick to the landing. He huffed out and glanced back downwards, where he saw people gather and point.
Not so good. They've seen him (but then again, somebody running up a wall was sure to draw attention). He couldn't stay here.
He turned, glancing at a much taller building behind the one he was standing on. He quickly scaled the next two stories of the neighboring construction and glanced upwards. He counted fifty stories at least. It would be safe up there, he figured. Plus, he might get a good view, maybe figure out where the heck he was.
He took a deep breath, winced at the sharp sting, and started to sprint. He rushed to the end of the roof and kicked off, catapulting his body across the gap and against the glass-and-metal side of the taller building. But glass and metal made for a bad footing. Alex started skidding down immediately, and began to panic. He clawed uselessly at the surface until his fingers simply broke through the facade with a resounding crack.
He hung there by one hand, gasping and staring down at the street several stories below. Okay...that was scary.
Alex swallowed and glanced up. He still believed that up there was a better solution than staying down on the streets. So he shifted his body and pushed both feet flat against the smooth surface. "C'mon", he muttered, "You can do it."
He exhaled once, closed his eyes, then pushed off. And this time, he did find purchase against the slippery surface. Glass crinkled beneath his shoes as he ran up the vertical surface, and the high altitude wind whipped at his clothes. He found it...peaceful. His chest didn't hurt that much up here, and his mind was silent, with no panic and the urging need to hide clawing at the back of his skull.
Reaching the roof was easy enough. Alex hit the tar with a resounding thud, and inhaled the cool night air. He heard the hum of the city below, and the low-key rumble of the large objects attached to the roof. Somewhere, he heard something chatter.
He froze and whirled around.
Two more of those flying things approached his position. Much too fast. He saw the guns at their sides swing into his direction.
His eyes widened and he barely managed to dive to the side, behind the large objects attached to the roof. They have found him again! How?!
Why couldn't they leave him alone?!
He grit his teeth and ducked lower, his hands balling into fists at his sides. They had found him. They tried to kill him. He wouldn't let them.
"Now I have to kill them too", he snarled. The question was: how? He took down the first with a car, didn't he? But up here he was sorely lacking in viable cars...
One of those flying bastards circled the rooftop, spewing this hot fire bolts. Knocking one of those large things free.
Alex immediately made a beeline for it. His fingers dug into the metal as he hoisted it up with no great trouble, heaving it over his head. Again, it felt like it weighed next to nothing, even though it must have been several hundreds of pounds.
He snarled and chucked it to the front, but the flying bastard veered to the side and avoided it, so his projectile tumbled off the side and down to the street. Then the flying thing came back at him.
He dove back to the side, waited until it finished its circle, and ran for the next of the metal contraptions. He bent down and dug his fingers beneath it, jerking back to yank it out, just as biting pain snapped through his spine. It hurt, but along with the agony came rage. Alex growled and hefted this contraption over his head again, facing the other of the flying things. He rushed to the side, still holding onto the thing, and leapt upwards. This time he targeted not the flying bastard, but rather a little distance in front of it- and threw with all his might. The vehicle, in an attempt to get a better position, collided in mid-air with his makeshift projectile.
It spiraled out of control and dropped like a rock, the damage too great to keep it aloft.
Alex could hear the men scream, but his anger drove him to the front. The other flying bastard came at him, and he dropped back to the roof, only to rocket back upwards and slam his shoulder into the thing. The force of the impact was so strong, it threw the vehicle off course and send it spinning off the side of the building. Alex instantly grabbed another of those large objects, yanked it out of its holding, and rushed to the edge of the building, peering down. He saw the flying machine, smoking and still descending, and chucked the metal contraption after it.
Even up here, the sound of the two objects colliding was hellish. And from below, he could hear people starting to scream.
It gave him pause, and his anger bled away rapidly. He eyed the destruction, the senseless loss of life, and felt...nothing.
"This can't be happening", he muttered as he watched the chaos below. It had been necessary. Those men had tried to kill him, but still...why didn't he feel anything? It was wrong, but he didn't care for their deaths.
They weren't important. They were gone now. Alex exhaled and looked up.
And froze.
An entire city was in front of him, stretching to the horizon. There was no end to it, and thousands of giant buildings rose from the ground like needles. He suddenly felt everything crash down around him.
Somewhere out there, somewhere in this city were the answers. Answers he needed. Why they had been chasing him. Why they tried to kill him. Whether there were more of them...
Who he really was.
...Why he had those powers. He shook his head and stepped back. He had no idea what was going on, but he was going to figure it out.
He was going to find out who he was.
Author: I promised I'd write this.