random stories

Cooper Adams/Male OC - no title

Cooper grinned, laughing ecstatically as he walked down the street, free of his chains. His smile faded as he bit the inside of his cheek, chewing on it obsessively. The FBI likely wouldn't catch on he was gone until their next checkpoint. Where that was, Cooper didn't know.

He just had to make good time with a pace that didn't alert passerby's. As he walked, Cooper thought about how much the profiler had guessed right about him.

Yes, he had OCD.

Yes, his mother always knew something was off about him.

Yes, he liked to drive black vehicles since they don't appear dirty.

Yes, he liked to use vacant buildings.

He grit his teeth.

Yes, he has a tattoo of an animal on his right wrist. Specifically, a lamb.

Cooper swore, rubbing his hand over his mouth compulsively.

He needed a new identity. Being Cooper Adams was not going to work anymore, not now that the FBI have everything on file about him. Cooper needed a new name, something he wouldn't think of. It can't be too close to his existing name and it can't be too far from it either.

He would need a new license, new ID, and just about everything else on the list. A new ID would be easy. From there, he could get a driver's license that would legally register in the system. Only forging a birth certificate would prove difficult.

He could change his name legally, then work his way through the system until his new identity was the only one. But he had no doubt that every customs was aware of Cooper Adams.

Copper's brows furrowed. He could drive safely and always check his car before he left like he used to. That would avoid the ID... but what about getting a new job?

He'd need a new social security number.

Cooper, now frustrated, considered leaving the country but even that would prove difficult. They'd be looking for him. For now, until he can legalize his new identity, he'd have to take out his savings and live off of it.

He nodded to himself. That could work.

"Fuck!" Cooper exclaimed, picking at the skin around his nails, 'If only I had more time.'

The next few days consisted of Cooper driving across the U.S., getting far away and into a new state where few people would question him. He took breaks when he needed to and has his savings tucked away in the backseat of his rental.

A new phone and a new outfit later, Cooper arrived in Franklin County, Maine. He sighed, looking at the dingy motel he decided to stay in for the time being. Walking in with his duffel bag of a cash, Cooper greeted the lady at the front desk.

"Hi," he smiled at her, warmly, setting his bag on the ground to take his new wallet out of his pocket. "I'd like a room for a couple nights."

"Sure thing. It'll be about one hundred dollars a night. You can pay upfront or pay by night." She said, not looking up from her computer as she logged in to see which rooms were available. Cooper thanked whatever luck he was getting that she didn't want to see an ID.

"I'll pay upfront." He fished out six hundred, setting in on the counter in front of her.

"Alright." As she finished setting up the online portion, she took the money, counting it out. The lady stood, grabbing a key off the wall, "Room twenty nine on the second floor, checkouts are earlier than eleven on Wednesday."

"Thank you," he smiled, taking his key.

Cooper left the front office, heading outside into the chilly evening to climb the stairs. He unlocked his door and set his duffel bag on the bed closest to the it. Immediately, he surveyed the room, eye twitching slightly at the grime.

Cooper shook it off as best as he could, deciding he would get some new clothes tomorrow as well as some preservable food. He sat down on the bed, taking off his shoes to lie down, falling asleep.

The next day rolled around and he had new clothes, food, and toiletries. He started looking for a job and searching online for someone who could forge an ID, license, birth certificate, social security, and anything else he might need.

Soon enough, he happens across a decent enough looking page. After thorough research, he decided it looked legit enough. Cooper contacted them, saying he needed everything under the name Grayson Reese Brown, a man who was forty-two, born in Dignity Hospital in Los Angeles at precisely eleven thirty five p.m. on September second, 1982. This man was 6'3", had black hair, and brown eyes.

He looked at his hair in the mirror, knowing it wouldn't be hard to keep up with dying it black. It was already quite a dark brown anyhow.

He continued his message, typing that they could give him new parents, and all the other things as long as they checked out on paper with the things he wanted.

Cooper sighed, sending the message. They replied, letting him know it could be done rather quickly and that they could deliver it to his motel.

He quickly thanked them, shutting off the computer he had bought yesterday.

For the next few days, Cooper hunted the job sight, sending out applications to different kinds of office jobs. He could be good at anything if he really wanted to. That was just the way his mind worked.

Soon, he had his new identity that he put into a safe box, along with some of his cash. Cooper stashed it, taking some of it to the dealership across the street along with his new license and ID in his wallet

Things were going smoothly and he specifically asked for a lighter colored car. He would not make the same mistake again. Cooper knew he could make the commitment to wash it frequently. He would have to.

He decided on a grey Ford Escape SE from 2020.

-

I wrote this THE DAY THE MOVIE CAME OUT

God I love M. Night Shymalan