The War In His Mind

Chapter 2

Everything was blurry. Shadows moved across his half-opened eyes and sharp pangs of fear rushed down his spine. A dull headache amplified the pain he felt behind his ears.

Waking up, 937 discovered himself trapped in a prison cell. There was nothing but shadows to keep him company. The lack of light in the room was depressed him. The craving for sunlight grew stronger. There he was, laying on a bed, without any idea of what was happening, when a large door opened in front of him.

Four men walked in. Three of them were wearing heavy armor while the fourth was dressed in a high-end designer suit. He was clean shaved, and his hair was combed to the side. Based on the fact that the men were listing to him, 937 assumed he was their leader. There was something slightly different about him- he appeared to be more confident.

"I've been waiting for you," he said.

"For me?"

"For what you stand for, at least." The figure stood over 937 and looked down on him. "It's been a long time coming. I created everything you see."

"Even me?" 937 felt his heart sink.

"You were never born. No one here was."

"I don't understand..."

"My name is Thomas O'Neil. Everything you see, and everything you are, came from me. You may have realized that this is not the real world. It's a program. A digital recreation. And everyone you see is just a clone of me."

"Including..."

"Yes. Even you. But with you, there was an error. A glitch in the code."

"The code?"

"As clones, there are default settings, and adjusted settings. With you, it seems, the system failed to write you properly. You seem have a defunct function. These emotions you feel, the desire for the warmth of sunshine," Thomas lowered himself to whisper in 937's ear,"they do not belong in this place."

"Why would you do this? Why would you make all of this?"

"I am compelled to see greatness in everything. When I look at a patch of land, do you know what I imagine? A tower. A structure so tall and so great that not even King Solomon in all his splendor could ever think of creating it."

937 could see it. Though the room was barren he imagined it as a master bedroom and could see beautiful paintings and artwork covering it.

Thomas turned away from him and spoke in hushed tones. "You're the same way. The glitch has infected you. It has reminded you of yourself... or to be more exact ... myself."

"It's not an infection, it's a gift."

"To the outside world? Yes. To you? It's a reason to be cleansed."

"Cleansed?"

Thomas moved his hand up in the air as if he was tossing a ball. A giant hologram appeared above it. There was a long page of code that looked similar in style to a website. It confused 937.

He could see everything that made him who he was. Everything unique about him was presented before him. He could see his memories, relive emotions from the past, and experience everything as if it were new again. Vivid holograms of him as a child running through forests and climbing on top of hills gave way to visions of marching bands and a high school graduation. His first true love kissing him underneath a barren tree on a crisp fall evening. He didn't know where these memories came from, but all he knew was they were his. He felt an intimate connection with them. He recalled his own.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Thomas asked.

In that moment, it made sense to 937. Everything for once seemed to all connect together. He was a living being. Full of life and memory and everything that made a person them self. Yet before him was the evidence that he was nothing more than a written language, created by somebody who had nothing better to do than torture him. Yet he didn't care. He just wanted to be unique, and to have somebody care for him. He wanted to live and breathe and feel sunshine on his face. Yet he knew that the actions of this savior of his would take everything away from him.

"I don't want to be cleansed..." he responded. Tears flowed down his cheek. It was a strange sensation. The fact he was crying was concrete proof that he was alive! How many people in this place actually have the capability to cry? Was this something unique to him? Will he be able to do it once the procedure is complete? Will he ever be able to feel true emotion?

He didn't know, but knew he would miss that elemental part of his humanity.

"How else will you be perfect? You're not a human being- you're just a program. Do you want to be complete?" O'Neil asked.

937 thought about this sentence with a sense of awe. The tyrant was offering him a choice. Something no other person in this reality ever had before. For a second he felt smug. He silently beat him. He defeated him. Crushed his rule.

"You're thinking to yourself that you won. You dealt me a crushing blow. Did you not?"

937 was taken back.  How could he know this?

Thomas gently spoke, as if he was correcting his own child. "I know you. I am you. I know about every treasonous whim of your heart. Every stray ideology. Every unclean thought. I can't read your mind- but I know what's in it."

With his index finger, Thomas selected a line in the code. "And with a tap, I will fix it all. I will take away all the pain. Eliminate every sadness. Cleanse every thought. Even though you thought you had a choice, I had already made up your mind for you. Rhetorical questions were never our strong point, were they?"

It was over. Darkness consumed 937's mind and the light peering in from the window in the cell gradually faded away into nothingness.