Heartbeat

Heartbeat

They say that the first thing you hear is a heartbeat, from your mother. You're supposed to be able to always go back to that heartbeat, always. That's a lie. When you're me, you can't go back. You can't remember it. You can't even remember who's it was, or who you are. Bad, you think? You have no clue. Take a look into my world, because you don't understand.

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Prologue: Waking up to a Nightmare

I open my eyes, hoping it was all a terrible dream, but I can't even remember what the dream was. I'm feeling a steady beating in my head, and I'm so polluted with painkillers that it's all wobbly and hard to see. I'm laying in a hospital bed, my head wrapped in a bandage. But, I can't remember why. My jacket, or at least I think it's mine, is hanging up above me. It's grey, like a windbreaker over coat. I try to stand up, but it's hard.

There's an intravenous tube in my arm. I tear it out, and stand up. I was in a hospital, but everything was still woozy. I pull on the coat, and find that in it's pocket was a number on the cover of a pack of matches. 847-6668, and below the number was the name, Miyako. As soon as I get out of here, I'll have to call this person, find out what's going on. Near the bed is a clip board. I read the first line of the chart, only to find...

PATIENT # 6668- KEN ICHIJOUJI

Is that me? Ken Ichijouji? It must be, because I'm the only one who was laying in that bed. I yank the papers of the clip board, fold them, and shove them in my pocket. The hall lights were flickering. It was raining outside, complete with thunder and lightning, and street lights flickered everywhere. I had to get out of here, but I don't know why. I peer out the window of the door. There was no one in the hall, so I took off out the door, despite the sickening whirling of my vision. I slowed down for a minute, and peered around the next corner. There was a dead person on the floor. I ran up to him, and took the pistol laying beside him. There was a voice around the corner.

" Okay, sir, I'll find patient 6668, and what do you want me to do? Kill him? Alright. I'm going in." 6668. Me. I couldn't let him get me, not before finding what was going on. I leapt around the corner, to find him with a gun as well. I fired, and hit, and shooting felt good for a twisted reason. He was face down on the ground before I could even land. Dead. I turned the corner, after collecting his pistol. For some reason, it feels natural, the cold steel of the hilt, but I know it shouldn't be. I really don't even know how the gun is supposed to help me, but with this guard down, there must be another somewhere...

I continue down the walkway, only to find what seems to be an operating table. Wait... Everything is going blurry... Hey, that girl wasn't standing there before. She had long, lavender hair up in a ponytail. She had glasses, and she was wearing a very familiar outfit. A faded orange-grey vest, a black tank top, black jeans, and running shoes. She looked at me with a grin.

" She's one of them...... Here to......... kill us......" She was blanking out, I couldn't understand her. Then, the girl was gone. I was hallucinating. And badly, at that. I swore that the shine in her eyes was real. I felt the aura off of her, I felt the air up my back, and I felt the pain of trying to remember. It was a bullet shaped hole in my head. I call it a deep wound. I was trying to scrape the pain out, but without pain, what was the pleasure of remembering?

Oh well. I continue through the halls, pushing the door open. I'm in what looks like a reception or waiting room. At least, that's what the sign says. I laugh slightly at my own stupidity. I can't believe I didn't even remember what a reception room was... Seems like I almost lost everything that I had, or might not have had, in my memory.

Two elevators were on the far right side of the room. I checked out the window. I was up above the main floor, so I'd need to go down. I ran into the elevator, and hit down. I was then forced to listen to crackling mall music. For some reason, I seem to remember hating mall music. I still do. The elevator stopped with an odd ding, sounding like something hit the other side of the elevator. For some reason, I have a terrible feeling in my stomach.

The door opens, and standing there, is an old man. He had an old derby on, a faded brown trench coat, overalls and an old fashioned shirt. He had a grey beard and white hair. He looked angry.

" What happened here? What went wrong? You screwed up, Ichijouji, you screwed up bad! I've got FIB breathing down my neck because of y- AH!" The man was shot down from another one of those guards. I hide behind the side of the elevator, just inside the doors. There was a propane tank, near the second elevator. It was shot into the elevator beside this one, and exploded.

I was sent flying, and I hit my head on the side of the elevator. My guns slipped down into a crack. That left me virtually defenseless. Great. Just great. I stand up, and stumble out of the elevator. The guard was gone. I made a dash for the door, and I barely made it. That's the last I remember of it.

I remember running, but to where, I didn't know. I ended up in a phone booth, dialing the number. After 1 ring, the phone was answered.

" Hello." The other end was a muffled voice I figured I better ask for Miyako.

" Is Miyako there?" The voice seemed a bit shocked, and it became a woman's voice.

" Meet me at 77 Albert street. Come alone. " She hung up. I was at 56, so it was a short walk from here. I started walking, in the rain, barely realizing that the bandage was nearly falling off. 67, 69, 71... I resorted to counting the numbers of the houses, until I came upon 77. I leaned on the lamp post, until I heard the clicking of someone's shoes. The woman, the same one from the hospital, walked up to me, armed with Duel Desert Eagles, silenced. I blinked.

" With a look and attitude, how come I don't remember you?" I ask, crossing my arms. She laughed. I remember that laugh. It sounded happy, but her voice racked with a sickened sadness.

" Because your memory was taken out. Come with me, and fast." She started to run into an alley. I followed, and we ended up in an apartment building, pretty run down. We went up 3 floors. It looked strangely familiar. She seemed to be watching me.

" Looks familiar? This is our apartment? Remember anything?" She asked. Strangely, I remember the old couch, the Television, the phone, and the apples in the rusted fridge. And I also remember the gun rack under the bed.

" Is the gun rack still under the bed?" She looked at me, and laughed.

" Of course. It's got the rest of your stuff, as well. Do you remember my name?" I thought for a moment. Do I, really?

" I remember your eyes. I don't remember anything else..." She smiled.

" My name is Miyako Inoue. And you're Ken Ichijouji, part of the DEA. But, I suggest you go back to the JPD. Japan Police Department. That's where I work. Your memory was erased by someone in this area, a local criminal mastermind. Not sure who, but I suggest we check the old warehouse. There was a report on gun fire, 5 minutes ago. I said I would take it. Do we go?" She asked me. I nodded, grabbing a pump action shotgun, and duel 9mm pistols.

" Let's go."

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