He wakes in utter darkness, with his memory and identity stolen.
Subjected to strange experiments and visited by spirits, he must not only find a way to escape the cage he's trapped in, but discover both his identity and the truth of who is behind t...
"You're deluded," Ryan said, doubting his words and doubting his doubt.
Nothing made sense. Bradley's words. Her dead self. She was telling him he needed to trust her, but was then filling his head with nonsense.
It was nonsense.
It was.
Four years! That was insane. There was no way he could be wrong about that. Weeks, maybe. A month or two. He'd push to three. Years, though? Bradley had him fooled. He'd been sucked in by her stories. His desperate desire for information had opened him up the doctor, and she had taken advantage of that. He had to admit, she was talented. He couldn't help but lean towards believing her. Or, at least, in her. She was still skirting facts whilst making it appear she was being up front.
But, she had overstepped the mark there. She'd pushed too far and made her stories more fantastical than they needed to be. Or, rather, ridiculous.
Four years. She may as well have told him he'd been there for a decade or two. Or four!
"Fuck off," he told her.
"I don't believe I will," she said. "May I ask why you think I should?"
"I have not been here that long. Weeks can merge together. Years, though? Not possible."
"Oh, Ryan. You'd be surprised at just what is actually possible. Nay, shocked. If you knew what I know, you would be far less eager to tell me to leave so eloquently."
"Fuck off," he said again.
"Please. I'm trying to help you here. Let's not."
"Yeah, let's not," Ryan agreed fiercely. "I'm done listening to you. You wanted me to trust you, and then you come up with this bullshit."
"Ryan, I'm urging you to stop. There's nothing either bovine or excremental in any of this. I do not lie, I assure you."
"Bollocks. I'd be more inclined to believe you if you said you do, but not about this. But not lie at all? Fuck off. Everyone does. You, me, Jarvis, Brioni, everyone."
FUUUUUCK!
He knew, as soon as he'd said the name, he'd messed up.
Brioni. Dear, beautiful, wonderful Brioni. His wife. He could see her. Smell her hair. Feel the touch of her skin and her lips. He felt his arms prickle up in goosebumps.
He remembered her, and the pair of them together, in their entirety. They had been so damned happy. She must have been devastated when he disappeared. He could imagine her searching for him. She wouldn't take the police's handling of the case – because, surely, there would be a case. She'd report him as a missing person and, no doubt, be hounding the authorities until they found him.
Brioni had always been a driven woman. He found it an incredibly attractive trait in her. The way she wouldn't rest until whatever she was working on was perfected, was inspirational in a way. It turned his procrastinating self into someone who, though he wasn't as single minded as his wife could be, at least didn't find every excuse to put them off.
Brioni.
He wiped away the tears that were wetting his cheeks and waited for the forthcoming consequences of his involuntary revelation.
"Brioni? Who would she be, and why would she be lying?"
Bradley's tone made it clear she knew, but Ryan wanted to keep the information to himself. His wife was nothing to do with her. Telling the doctor anything would be like handing over pieces of his beloved to her. He was afraid of what she might do with them, and didn't want the memory tainted or diminished.
"It was a random name, that's all. I made it up."
"Why would you do such a disservice to your wife?"
Ryan's head came up sharply. She knew!?
Bradley's phone rang, but she ignored it. Her attention was fully on the man before her, and she was watching him intently.
"I made her up," he insisted.
"Did you, indeed? Such an lovely, though uncommon name to invent for someone who doesn't exist. And, if she wasn't real," Bradley touched his arm, "why would she affect you so?"
"I..."
Her phone rang again, and again she ignored it.
She sighed.
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
The gun was in her hand as if it hadn't left, but Ryan knew it had, at some point. She pointed it at him.
"You don't..." he began.
He didn't finish.
"Clean up on... Oh, forget it."
Bradley pulled the trigger and shot him.
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