Other Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Memory Machine ❯ My own personal Hell ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter 4-My Own Personal Hell

 

“Three years ago,” the man said, “my sister and I were able to swindle this van off the market. Of course, all we wanted was a sweet ride because we were planning to be nomads from the start. Unfortunately, we both were under suspicion for serious crimes of murder.”

The man had closed the doors to the back of the van in case someone else saw and had fetched a blanket for Laura. They were now sitting on a bench close to the park, but out of earshot of any patrons. “We knew that if the CSI interrogated us, we would be innocent, but…well, my sister cracked easily under pressure. If they pushed her hard enough she would cave in and tell them lies of being the one to commit the murder, just to make them stop. We were planning to run, until…” He paused and let out a deep sigh.

“What?” Laura asked, shivering. “What is it? What happened?”

“Well,” the man picked up, “when we finally got the damned van, we learned that it was a smuggler's truck. The “Memory Machine” was already built in to the van. We were ecstatic; we no longer needed to run. Our new worry was being caught with the “Memory Machine,” and that wouldn't be a problem. We had an old secret playground we had used to play in as kids. Once we'd finished with the machine, we'd hide it there and leave it be until our planned road trip.

“Unfortunately…we never got to that point. On the night we used the machine to get rid of her habit to break under pressure, we had no clue that we were supposed to use the medication at all. So…on the night we used the machine, my sister was so relieved. We'd be free of our curse, and could stay innocent. I strapped her in, and I remember her looking so happy. She had a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face.” He stopped and brought his hands to his eyes, as if to ease tears.

Laura was about to say something, but the man held a hand to silence her. He wiped his eyes dry and continued, “The look stayed on her face even as she jolted. When she returned, her habit was gone completely. I could see it in her eyes. Then, as she was leaving the chair, she froze. Then, without warning, she started puking blood. When I went to help her, I saw that it wasn't just her mouth. She was bleeding out of her eyes, nose, ears—every emphasis on her body. It was like Ebola, but it killed instantly. Before I knew what had happened, she was dead in my hands.

“I couldn't do a damn thing to help her,” he finished with his hands once again wiping away tears.

Laura sat there rerunning the story in her head. It definitely explained WHY the “Memory Machine” had been made illegal; too many casualties. What she didn't understand was why the punishment was so severe. Sure, the cause of death was horrible, but it only hurt one person; the user. Maybe they considered it like a drug? No…it didn't have THOSE kinds of effects. So, why…?

Laura decided to push aside that thought and instead asked the man, “If this van has such horrible memories in it, then why do you keep it?”

The man simply sat there for a minute, then said, “Because I failed to save her, and that van is the personal hell I've been allotted. That's why.” He then turned to Laura and said, “Enough of this talk, though. Let me introduce myself. Name's Clayton Hicky. You?”

“Laura,” Laura replied. “Laura Cormena.”

“A good name!” Clayton commented. “Listen—if you ever need any help, just contact me on my cell phone.” He then took out a piece of paper and scribbled his phone number on it, and then held it out to Laura.

“Hmm?” Laura sounded, taking the piece of paper. “Why would I need to contact you for help?”

“Because,” Clayton said, “the G-Men are in town.”