Through The Ascension Room***Book One COMPLETE***

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ~ PART THREE~

CHAPTER

                             Seventeen

        The memory of Dr. Finley’s last moment I carry around with me. Like a memento tucked securely in my back pocket. Taking it out from time to time to remind myself the worth in what I am setting out to do. I still have trouble sometime believing that he is really gone. Just as I suspected, the cover up of his murder goes straight to the top. A funeral was held in his ‘honor’ and Richard said a few words, all of which I saw right through. It sickens my stomach seeing them all lie so effortlessly.

After the service on the beach, Richard came to me and gave me his condolences. It took everything I had in me not to tackle him over in the sand. My recurring nightmares display a different scenario every night. Sometimes I attack him and Tristis has to pull me off, other times its Hilt or Valde that pulls me off. Once they have me off of Richard they proceed to choke me to death. Invisible hands griping my throat crushing my airway suffocating me until I’m jolted awake in a cold, pasty sweat.

Most nights I look over the parchment from the box, Dr. Finley had given to me right before he died, until my eyes force themselves shut in exhaustion and I am involuntarily forced to lie down and reel in my wandering thoughts in attempts to get some much needed, but ever-so elusive sleep.

Each time I read it, the more questions I seem to have. Like what some of the gadgets left for me in the box are and what they do. The letter explains the pills and fills in some details about the Sumus Exitium but there are still so many questions left unanswered. I wish that I had some more time with Dr. Finley. So many things I thought to ask after, but it’s too late now.

The pills taste of chalk and give my mouth a dry bitter aftertaste. The letter tells me that it’s meant to counteract the effects of another drug that Richard and Hilt have me taking. They say it’s meant to stretch my abilities to the limits making me stronger.

The letter tells me otherwise. According to it, the pills that Richard is having me take has a brainwashing effect that they use to make room for subliminal implants that desensitize the user. This would explain Valde’s sudden change in attitude but doesn’t change how I feel about him. Brainwashed or not he still killed Dr. Finley. There is no excuse for doing what he did.

I stomach the high dose of counteracting drugs and the gut wrenching side effects that follow as best I can. Most mornings consist of me hanging over the toilet releasing last night’s dinner. It isn’t fun, but necessary as I see it. Anything that keeps me sane and free of whatever has a hold on Valde’s mind.

As if the drugs aren’t bad enough just a couple of days ago Dr. Finley’s replacement arrived to fill his spot. He is a short, younger man than Dr. Finley. Not very personal at all. I tend to avoid any contact I can. My trips to his office during my final training have consisted of informational downloads through hooking me up to a computer through some tattered multicolored wires. The images passed from computer to mind make no sense and often pop up in unwanted places and times as my subconscious struggles to contain them.

The chip he injected into my bloodstream hurt more than I thought it would, which says a lot as I have a distaste for needles already. He explains that the chip is for my protection out in the field if I ever get lost in the ascensions they would be able to pinpoint my position in time and space and come and get me. He says this with a crooked smile on his face. His lips resting lopsided causes me to always look at him with a slight slant in my neck.

I’ve kept to myself as much as I can this past while. Cynthia and Tristis have begun giving me space. They don’t try as hard anymore to have me involved with their plans. They still try, just not as hard as they use to.