The Memory Machine 2

Chapter 6 - Wrong

"You feel wrong? Now you know how I feel. We have more in common now, as is my plan."

Connor's legs started to shake, and he felt his vision start to go. It was so sudden, that even he didn't see it coming. The woman's eyes widened and she hurried from behind the counter. Connor felt her hands steady him. But her touch felt strange. It was if she wasn't real. He pulled away from her, using the counter to balance himself instead.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to get you some water?" the woman asked.

Her voice was full of concern, but Connor could hear something else behind it. A chill ran down his spine as it reminded him of Carrie. The woman tried to help him again, but he dodged her grasp.

"I'm fine," he choked.

His vision cleared and he managed to stand properly again. He took a deep breath before he spoke again.

"How long did you say this shop has been open for?"

"About 3 months."

Connor had never run so fast. He bolted from the corner shop, the woman calling after him. Connor realised how stupid he must have looked, but he didn't care at the moment. His instincts told him that he needed to get away. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

The sound of passing cars, which was usually calming to Connor, began to fill his head with a strange buzzing. When he was satisfied he was far from the corner shop, he began to slow his pace. He leaned against the wall of a small pub and closed his eyes. He could hear muffled talking from inside. It wasn't surprising, since the weekend was when most people went to the pub. It was the place where middle aged men would meet and moan about all the things their wives did that annoyed them. The thought of this made Connor smile, but it still didn't distract him from the buzzing. It was a kind of mechanical sound, one that you might feel after hearing a loud bang, and it rang in his ears now. It was achingly familiar.

It took him a while to figure out where he had heard it before. And when he did, he wished he hadn't.

One of the worst side effects of regaining his memory was the detailed images that his time in Carrie's machine had plastered into his mind. He remembered how he had followed her instructions without question, and how soothing her voice had sounded at the time. Even if he thought about it now, he could feel her hypnotic powers controlling him, and he felt a strange urge to see her again. That wasn't even the worst part. That was the syringes. He remembered with a sickly feeling the pain he had felt when they had pierced his flesh. He remembered the sensation of the strange fluids flowing into him, and opening his mind up to Carrie's invisible hand.

Connor's eyes shot open and he doubled over, the memories making him gag. In his sickly haze he saw a young woman skirt past him, frowning in confusion. She didn't offer any help. She just simply darted past him as if he wasn't worth her time. His stomach lurched and he nearly vomited, but he managed to stop himself just in time. He straightened up, letting his mind clear a little. But the worst memories were not yet covered. He felt a sudden want to remember them, as if they were a part of a story that was being told. Like if he remembered them, it would be the last time. It didn't make sense, even to him, and no words could explain why he wanted to remember them. But he did.

After the syringes, he had blacked out. That was when Carrie had used her telekinesis to erase his memory and placed him out on the street for his friends to find him. What he hadn't realised until now was that after that instance he had had a constant buzzing in his head. He guessed that in his confused state he hadn't noticed. But now when he thought about it, he could hear the buzzing in each memory. Thankfully that was now gone. However, much like his panic attacks, it seemed that every now and then it would come back. Carrie's experiment may have failed in the long run, but it was clear that she was far more powerful than he had initially thought. Her evil had left marks that would never heal.

Somehow, running through the events in his head settled his nerves. It was as if he was confirming that he wasn't insane, and that it had actually happened. Now, as he stood by the pub, Connor realised that his brave excursion had landed him empty handed. He had set out with a goal, but now he would be returning home with nothing but another traumatic experience added to his list.

He took out his phone, quickly dialing Ingrid's number. She answered almost instantly.

"Are you okay?" was her greeting.

It once again reminded Connor how useless he was, but he pretended not to notice.

"Fine. I couldn't find any of the chocolate you asked for. I didn't want to get anything other than it. I know how picky you are about food."

"Oh, too bad. Did you get anything else?"

Connor felt himself hold his breath; he hadn't bought anything. And there was no good excuse he could think of that wouldn't worry her.

"No," he said simply.

"Nothing?"

She sounded worried.

"Connor, what happened?"

"Nothing! I'll talk to you when I get back. See you soon!"

Ingrid began to protest, but Connor ended the call before he could hear what she said. He turned his phone off so he wouldn't be tempted to answer if she called him back.

He started his way down the road, taking deep breaths as he felt his fear at the thought of the woman at the corner shop rising. There was something wrong with her, and he couldn't help but think that she was going to attack him. If he could get home he would be safe from her, he thought. But there was no way he could get out of an awkward conversation with Ingrid. He could almost imagine what she would say to him.

It was at times like this that Connor wished he never existed. Nothing was worse than an interrogation from your girlfriend.