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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Lyrics by Evanescence and Duran Duran
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“What are we to do about this…situation?”
“As unfortunate as it is, we must perform a Deletion.”
“Now?”
“When else? He screwed up…again. We must correct the problem now.”
“Yes, Madam. We understand. But this…place…does not provide the best of conditions for such a procedure. We cannot guarantee the results.”
“That’s a risk I have no choice but to take. All memories of her encounters with…us…must be removed.”
“And the other? What are we to do about him?”
“He will be given another chance. His service is still required in other avenues. It is best to keep his suspicions to a minimum and not change his assignment at this point.”
“Of course, Madam. Is everyone else under control?”
“Yes. Parker, Raines…they are all performing satisfactorily.”
“And Miss Parker? She has shown rogue tendencies in the past.”
“She has been dealt with. Now, enough of the chatter. Get on with your assignment.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“Take special care to remove all memories associated with him. If even one is left, it could jeopardize the entire Project.”
“It will be as though they never met.”
And so the Selective Recollection Deletion commenced. And all memories they did not wish her to ever recall were removed… except the most important one.
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Deep within the bowels of the Centre hummed the chilling echo of a low buzz that steadily increased in volume. This sub-level below the sub-level had once bore witness to unspoken atrocities before a permanent shut down was imposed. Or at least what was supposed to be a permanent shut down. Something moved within the nether region.
A milky white hand closed around a hefty lever. Suddenly, electricity shot through the wires illuminating the illicit zone. The sound of machinery crackling to life signaled the institution of a new era.
Above world, the streets were empty and all was alarmingly still. A door exiting the Centre opened breaking into the silence of the day world. A procession of Black Coats filed out of the building, stark figures against the morning light. Bringing up the rear of the line was the black-cloaked form of Mr. Raines.
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He was out of ammunition.
It took three rounds to take out of one of them. Two down, four more to go, and he was out of ammunition.
They overtook him easily- there was nowhere to run, and he certainly wasn’t strong enough to take them on alone.
If it weren’t for bad luck, he’d have none at all.
“Come, Mr. Lyle,” the ringleader said to him.
He loathed the diplomatic tone they always used.
“It is time to return to the Centre.”
So they are with the Centre…
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” he informed them indignantly. No one was going to tell him what to do; if anything they should be answering to him.
“Do you know who you’re dealing with?” His tone was sinister and hostile; any normal person would have been greatly intimidated by him.
The Black Coats were unmoved.
“We know everything about you, Mr. Lyle. It is time to go now.”
He was walled in completely, but he was not about to back down.
“I don’t think so. If you really knew everything about me, you wouldn’t so stupidly disregard my orders.”
“We know everything,” The man stepped closer. “We answer to no one but the Director.”
What??
The Director was one of the most elusive members of the Centre; no one knew exactly who she was or what she looked like- not even him.
“You,” Lyle coughed mockingly. “You know the Director. Yeah, and I won Citizen of the Year.”
“No more talk, Mr. Lyle. We must leave now.”
“No!” The word burst from him like a bullet.
The Black Coats paused.
“I demand to know what your orders are!”
“We answer only to the Director.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time,” he spat. Fed up with their game, Lyle attempted to push his way pass them. “You have no business with me. And I want none with you.”
“Ah, but you see Mr. Lyle,” the head Black Coat locked his arm in an iron grip that Lyle could not break free from. “Our business is yours and yours is ours. All members are needed for the commission. Now.”
He was given no choice but to go along with them.
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“I hold my breath as this life starts to take its toll…
Shadows tripped across the walls of the motel room. The only light in the place was from a dimly flickering fluorescent light in the bathroom. With each flicker of the light a broken glass syringe was illuminated. Water filtered into the living room from the bathroom.
In the bathroom, water poured over the edge of a grimy porcelain tub with a flow fed by the running facet. Strands of scarlet hair floated to the surface of the liquid that was contained in the bathtub. She lay completely submerged in frigid water.
Minutes ticked by without her stirring. Hazy images skunked across the ceiling. A shadowy phantom flitted over the tub.
Her eyes suddenly snapped open and darted around in frantic confusion. Her hands shot through the water and latched onto the basin’s edges as she struggled to sit up. Even more water flooded the floor.
She sat there for a long time listening to the sounds of the City- it seemed so far away. Slowly, she became aware of a deep ache in her neck that traveled up her spine to her neck.
Bewilderment increased as she inspected her surroundings- every thing was foreign; she had no clue where she was or how she got there. Abruptly, she rose from the tub and stepped onto the cold tile floor. Her gaze turned to herself. Water pooled at her feet and she was surprised to see herself fully clothed.
Who takes a bath in their clothes?
I hide behind a smile as this perfect plan unfolds…
She moved to the sink, shaking with exhaustion. Her reflection stared at her from the other side of the splintered mirror. Had her eyes always been so large and stormy, like a squall about to unleash its fury. A trail of red dripped down her collarbone. She shivered.
Why was it so cold?
Raising her fingers to her neck, she traced the path of blood up to the base of her skull. Her lungs filled rapidly with chilling air as she felt the small wound where her fingers were. She pressed against the injury to halt the bleeding as she wiped away the blood with her free hand.
Where am I?
Her eyes searched the room again, looking for anything that might jar her memory into working. A small window on the far side of the room caught her attention. The glass was cracked and impossibly dirty- covered in an inch of filthy grime. She edged over to it, still clutching her neck.
Who am I?
It was not possible to see out of the window. Her hands fell to her side. Reaching up with a pale trembling hand, she pushed against the glass. It swung away from her with a moan. She jerked her hand away as the window continued to open unaided.
It was night again- dark, lonely, deadly.
How much time have I lost? Hours? Days? Weeks?
She shivered again and sneezed. Cautiously, she crept into the adjoining bedroom. She stumbled blindly through the room until she found a small lamp on the nightstand. By the faint light, she could the silhouettes of the furniture. She rummaged through the closet looking for something dry she could change into. There was only one change of clothes- a white shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of black and silver running shoes. The clothing fit as though they were hers- and they might have been but she had no memory of them.
But I feel I've been lied to- lost all faith in the things I have achieved…
Creeee…A noise on the other side of the bedroom door caused her to jump. She crawled to the door, her heart hammering in her ears. Hesitantly, she peered into the keyhole just in time to see the door exiting the room shut.
She stood up rapidly, her mind reeling. There was something so very wrong here…
I've woken now to find myself in the shadows of all I have created…
She waited several minutes before entering the next room.
Everything was still. She moved deliberately through the room, taking in every detail. She found a switch plate and turned the lights on. Next to the switches was a closet. Inside, a tailored coat hung on the solitary hanger and a brown leather purse lay on the upper shelf. She pulled the pocketbook down and began to rifle through its contents- makeup, gum, a pen, hair ties, a comb, and a wallet. She took the wallet and dropped the purse on the floor.
She was still so cold. Her eyes turned to the coat- a man’s suit coat.
After slipping into the jacket, she opened the wallet. There was no ID inside, no driver’s license, no credit card. No hint of any personal history, neither hers nor anyone else’s. At least she knew her name- her first name any way and that was better than nothing.
Crawling through this world as disease flows through my veins… I look into myself, but my own heart has been changed…
The wallet’s contents were meaningless: a bill from the DT-UT, some cash, a business card for a place called Sun Lei’s, and a tattered postcard from Brooklyn. She put the papers back inside the leather holder and stuffed into the inside pocket of the coat.
She walked to the center of the room and looked around. A dark stain on the carpet made her stop. She bent to examine the fresh blemish and saw that it originated from behind the sofa. Behind the couch lay richly dressed man in his fifties. Blood collected all around him in an ever-increasing pool. His chocolate eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling.
Mia suddenly felt ill and her world started to spin.
Who is he??
Her panicked mind vainly tried to piece together the mystery surrounding her. She was stricken with a disturbing thought: was it his coat she now wore?
No…no!
It couldn’t be. The coat was made for a man with a slim-build and would never button around the dead man’s ample girth.
Blue eyes flashed across her mind… She frowned trying to pin the image down. A man’s hazy visage stood before her. She squinted and his handsome features took shape. She grappled for knowledge, an understanding of who he was…
As his face became clearer, something else broke through the fog that encompassed her psyche.
L…Li..Lie…Lie-el…Lyle!
In that instant, his face disappeared and she was alone again with the dead man.
The dead man…!
Acrid bile burned her throat as her stomach churned. She had never seen a dead body before and the reality was more gruesome that she ever imagined. She started to gag and threw her hands over her mouth.
I can't go on like this… I loathe all I've become…”
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“Ahh, it’ll take a little time, might take a little crime to come undone…
Brawn and brains apparently did not go hand-in-hand when it came to his escorts. Otherwise, they never would have actually stopped at the nearest gas station and let him go unattended to the restroom.
The lavatory was inside the station on the other side of a combination diner and gift shop.
They had assumed there was only one exit; they were wrong.
He found that escaping through a window in the men’s room like he had planned was unnecessary- he simply walked through the restaurant and out of the side door.
Stupid creatures….
As he walked away from the Centre’s minions still waiting in their toasty car, he tried to surmise the reason for the Director’s need for them. The Centre had a way of making their schemas obscure, but this was more so than usual. He wondered what his father knew about this….what Raines knew about it.
Those things look like something Raines would concoct….but why?
Answers were so elusive these days.
Now we’ll try to stay blind, to the hope and fear outside…
He sighed and turned a corner. He needed to find Mia before he worried about anything else. He had the distinct feeling that she was the key to this mystery somehow.
Hey child, stay wilder than the wind and blow me in to cry…
Where exactly would a frightened little girl run?
That was the question of the moment.
Who do you need? Who do you love? When you come undone…”
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Something was wrong with the computer screen…the images refused to read properly.
Jarod fidgeted with the screen resolution trying to restore clarity, but nothing seemed to help.
He blinked, then rubbed his eyes- they burned from lack of sleep. When he opened his eyes again he found that the screen had corrected itself. Apparently, it was his sight and not the computer that was having issues staying focused.
Both the serial killings and the Centre had been keeping him up. And sleep would not come anytime soon.
He was in the middle of doing a sweep of the Centre’s mainframe trying to locate anything on the Seventh Member Project. If he stopped now, he would have to start over completely. So he pressed on, fighting to stay awake.
His eyelids began to droop- he almost missed it. At first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him or he had somehow exited the Centre’s system.
Staring at him from the screen was the image of the dead Judge Dewitt. Only according to the Centre file, his name was Mr. D.E. Witt.
What on earth…?
Suddenly, all the hours of searching had paid off. He finally got a break on at least one of the murders. From his work with Sussex, he was certain that the same person committed all seven killing. Jarod was willing to bet that he would be able to find the other six victims buried in the archives.
The Centre obviously had an assassin loose in the City.
His thoughts drifted to a list of the usual suspects: past hired guns for the Centre, Lyle…
It was unlikely that it was any of them, however. Most of the previous hit men were dead and the slayings just weren’t done in typical Lyle style. They were too tame.
His fingers flew over the keyboard. There were a few things he needed to process in to confirm the victims’ identity and association to the Centre, but he was certain he was on to something big.
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She lurched against the hall wall facing Room # 77- the room with the dead man in it. Tears pricked her eyes and threatened to cloud her vision. Air was nearly impossible to get into her lungs.
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“What are we to do about this…situation?”
“As unfortunate as it is, we must perform a Deletion.”
“Now?”
“When else? He screwed up…again. We must correct the problem now.”
“Yes, Madam. We understand. But this…place…does not provide the best of conditions for such a procedure. We cannot guarantee the results.”
“That’s a risk I have no choice but to take. All memories of her encounters with…us…must be removed.”
“And the other? What are we to do about him?”
“He will be given another chance. His service is still required in other avenues. It is best to keep his suspicions to a minimum and not change his assignment at this point.”
“Of course, Madam. Is everyone else under control?”
“Yes. Parker, Raines…they are all performing satisfactorily.”
“And Miss Parker? She has shown rogue tendencies in the past.”
“She has been dealt with. Now, enough of the chatter. Get on with your assignment.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“Take special care to remove all memories associated with him. If even one is left, it could jeopardize the entire Project.”
“It will be as though they never met.”
And so the Selective Recollection Deletion commenced. And all memories they did not wish her to ever recall were removed… except the most important one.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deep within the bowels of the Centre hummed the chilling echo of a low buzz that steadily increased in volume. This sub-level below the sub-level had once bore witness to unspoken atrocities before a permanent shut down was imposed. Or at least what was supposed to be a permanent shut down. Something moved within the nether region.
A milky white hand closed around a hefty lever. Suddenly, electricity shot through the wires illuminating the illicit zone. The sound of machinery crackling to life signaled the institution of a new era.
Above world, the streets were empty and all was alarmingly still. A door exiting the Centre opened breaking into the silence of the day world. A procession of Black Coats filed out of the building, stark figures against the morning light. Bringing up the rear of the line was the black-cloaked form of Mr. Raines.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He was out of ammunition.
It took three rounds to take out of one of them. Two down, four more to go, and he was out of ammunition.
They overtook him easily- there was nowhere to run, and he certainly wasn’t strong enough to take them on alone.
If it weren’t for bad luck, he’d have none at all.
“Come, Mr. Lyle,” the ringleader said to him.
He loathed the diplomatic tone they always used.
“It is time to return to the Centre.”
So they are with the Centre…
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” he informed them indignantly. No one was going to tell him what to do; if anything they should be answering to him.
“Do you know who you’re dealing with?” His tone was sinister and hostile; any normal person would have been greatly intimidated by him.
The Black Coats were unmoved.
“We know everything about you, Mr. Lyle. It is time to go now.”
He was walled in completely, but he was not about to back down.
“I don’t think so. If you really knew everything about me, you wouldn’t so stupidly disregard my orders.”
“We know everything,” The man stepped closer. “We answer to no one but the Director.”
What??
The Director was one of the most elusive members of the Centre; no one knew exactly who she was or what she looked like- not even him.
“You,” Lyle coughed mockingly. “You know the Director. Yeah, and I won Citizen of the Year.”
“No more talk, Mr. Lyle. We must leave now.”
“No!” The word burst from him like a bullet.
The Black Coats paused.
“I demand to know what your orders are!”
“We answer only to the Director.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time,” he spat. Fed up with their game, Lyle attempted to push his way pass them. “You have no business with me. And I want none with you.”
“Ah, but you see Mr. Lyle,” the head Black Coat locked his arm in an iron grip that Lyle could not break free from. “Our business is yours and yours is ours. All members are needed for the commission. Now.”
He was given no choice but to go along with them.
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“I hold my breath as this life starts to take its toll…
Shadows tripped across the walls of the motel room. The only light in the place was from a dimly flickering fluorescent light in the bathroom. With each flicker of the light a broken glass syringe was illuminated. Water filtered into the living room from the bathroom.
In the bathroom, water poured over the edge of a grimy porcelain tub with a flow fed by the running facet. Strands of scarlet hair floated to the surface of the liquid that was contained in the bathtub. She lay completely submerged in frigid water.
Minutes ticked by without her stirring. Hazy images skunked across the ceiling. A shadowy phantom flitted over the tub.
Her eyes suddenly snapped open and darted around in frantic confusion. Her hands shot through the water and latched onto the basin’s edges as she struggled to sit up. Even more water flooded the floor.
She sat there for a long time listening to the sounds of the City- it seemed so far away. Slowly, she became aware of a deep ache in her neck that traveled up her spine to her neck.
Bewilderment increased as she inspected her surroundings- every thing was foreign; she had no clue where she was or how she got there. Abruptly, she rose from the tub and stepped onto the cold tile floor. Her gaze turned to herself. Water pooled at her feet and she was surprised to see herself fully clothed.
Who takes a bath in their clothes?
I hide behind a smile as this perfect plan unfolds…
She moved to the sink, shaking with exhaustion. Her reflection stared at her from the other side of the splintered mirror. Had her eyes always been so large and stormy, like a squall about to unleash its fury. A trail of red dripped down her collarbone. She shivered.
Why was it so cold?
Raising her fingers to her neck, she traced the path of blood up to the base of her skull. Her lungs filled rapidly with chilling air as she felt the small wound where her fingers were. She pressed against the injury to halt the bleeding as she wiped away the blood with her free hand.
Where am I?
Her eyes searched the room again, looking for anything that might jar her memory into working. A small window on the far side of the room caught her attention. The glass was cracked and impossibly dirty- covered in an inch of filthy grime. She edged over to it, still clutching her neck.
Who am I?
It was not possible to see out of the window. Her hands fell to her side. Reaching up with a pale trembling hand, she pushed against the glass. It swung away from her with a moan. She jerked her hand away as the window continued to open unaided.
It was night again- dark, lonely, deadly.
How much time have I lost? Hours? Days? Weeks?
She shivered again and sneezed. Cautiously, she crept into the adjoining bedroom. She stumbled blindly through the room until she found a small lamp on the nightstand. By the faint light, she could the silhouettes of the furniture. She rummaged through the closet looking for something dry she could change into. There was only one change of clothes- a white shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of black and silver running shoes. The clothing fit as though they were hers- and they might have been but she had no memory of them.
But I feel I've been lied to- lost all faith in the things I have achieved…
Creeee…A noise on the other side of the bedroom door caused her to jump. She crawled to the door, her heart hammering in her ears. Hesitantly, she peered into the keyhole just in time to see the door exiting the room shut.
She stood up rapidly, her mind reeling. There was something so very wrong here…
I've woken now to find myself in the shadows of all I have created…
She waited several minutes before entering the next room.
Everything was still. She moved deliberately through the room, taking in every detail. She found a switch plate and turned the lights on. Next to the switches was a closet. Inside, a tailored coat hung on the solitary hanger and a brown leather purse lay on the upper shelf. She pulled the pocketbook down and began to rifle through its contents- makeup, gum, a pen, hair ties, a comb, and a wallet. She took the wallet and dropped the purse on the floor.
She was still so cold. Her eyes turned to the coat- a man’s suit coat.
After slipping into the jacket, she opened the wallet. There was no ID inside, no driver’s license, no credit card. No hint of any personal history, neither hers nor anyone else’s. At least she knew her name- her first name any way and that was better than nothing.
Crawling through this world as disease flows through my veins… I look into myself, but my own heart has been changed…
The wallet’s contents were meaningless: a bill from the DT-UT, some cash, a business card for a place called Sun Lei’s, and a tattered postcard from Brooklyn. She put the papers back inside the leather holder and stuffed into the inside pocket of the coat.
She walked to the center of the room and looked around. A dark stain on the carpet made her stop. She bent to examine the fresh blemish and saw that it originated from behind the sofa. Behind the couch lay richly dressed man in his fifties. Blood collected all around him in an ever-increasing pool. His chocolate eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling.
Mia suddenly felt ill and her world started to spin.
Who is he??
Her panicked mind vainly tried to piece together the mystery surrounding her. She was stricken with a disturbing thought: was it his coat she now wore?
No…no!
It couldn’t be. The coat was made for a man with a slim-build and would never button around the dead man’s ample girth.
Blue eyes flashed across her mind… She frowned trying to pin the image down. A man’s hazy visage stood before her. She squinted and his handsome features took shape. She grappled for knowledge, an understanding of who he was…
As his face became clearer, something else broke through the fog that encompassed her psyche.
L…Li..Lie…Lie-el…Lyle!
In that instant, his face disappeared and she was alone again with the dead man.
The dead man…!
Acrid bile burned her throat as her stomach churned. She had never seen a dead body before and the reality was more gruesome that she ever imagined. She started to gag and threw her hands over her mouth.
I can't go on like this… I loathe all I've become…”
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“Ahh, it’ll take a little time, might take a little crime to come undone…
Brawn and brains apparently did not go hand-in-hand when it came to his escorts. Otherwise, they never would have actually stopped at the nearest gas station and let him go unattended to the restroom.
The lavatory was inside the station on the other side of a combination diner and gift shop.
They had assumed there was only one exit; they were wrong.
He found that escaping through a window in the men’s room like he had planned was unnecessary- he simply walked through the restaurant and out of the side door.
Stupid creatures….
As he walked away from the Centre’s minions still waiting in their toasty car, he tried to surmise the reason for the Director’s need for them. The Centre had a way of making their schemas obscure, but this was more so than usual. He wondered what his father knew about this….what Raines knew about it.
Those things look like something Raines would concoct….but why?
Answers were so elusive these days.
Now we’ll try to stay blind, to the hope and fear outside…
He sighed and turned a corner. He needed to find Mia before he worried about anything else. He had the distinct feeling that she was the key to this mystery somehow.
Hey child, stay wilder than the wind and blow me in to cry…
Where exactly would a frightened little girl run?
That was the question of the moment.
Who do you need? Who do you love? When you come undone…”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Something was wrong with the computer screen…the images refused to read properly.
Jarod fidgeted with the screen resolution trying to restore clarity, but nothing seemed to help.
He blinked, then rubbed his eyes- they burned from lack of sleep. When he opened his eyes again he found that the screen had corrected itself. Apparently, it was his sight and not the computer that was having issues staying focused.
Both the serial killings and the Centre had been keeping him up. And sleep would not come anytime soon.
He was in the middle of doing a sweep of the Centre’s mainframe trying to locate anything on the Seventh Member Project. If he stopped now, he would have to start over completely. So he pressed on, fighting to stay awake.
His eyelids began to droop- he almost missed it. At first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him or he had somehow exited the Centre’s system.
Staring at him from the screen was the image of the dead Judge Dewitt. Only according to the Centre file, his name was Mr. D.E. Witt.
What on earth…?
Suddenly, all the hours of searching had paid off. He finally got a break on at least one of the murders. From his work with Sussex, he was certain that the same person committed all seven killing. Jarod was willing to bet that he would be able to find the other six victims buried in the archives.
The Centre obviously had an assassin loose in the City.
His thoughts drifted to a list of the usual suspects: past hired guns for the Centre, Lyle…
It was unlikely that it was any of them, however. Most of the previous hit men were dead and the slayings just weren’t done in typical Lyle style. They were too tame.
His fingers flew over the keyboard. There were a few things he needed to process in to confirm the victims’ identity and association to the Centre, but he was certain he was on to something big.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She lurched against the hall wall facing Room # 77- the room with the dead man in it. Tears pricked her eyes and threatened to cloud her vision. Air was nearly impossible to get into her lungs.
