Lies #5: Sanders

Chapter 3

Logan:

It's so dark. Is this really the test? I don't see how this can help me get through my 'trauma'. Of course, I can't really see anything... But before Logan could wonder too much about the endless abyss he'd been transported into, the world around him morphed into something new. His feet back on firm ground, Logan took a moment to process where he was exactly.

He had been transported into a different office, but in this room there was no color. Tall, metal filing cabinets lined the walls in an orderly fashion, with a single desk and chair in the middle of the room and a door in the corner. Logan was standing next to the chair, looking across the black and white- and slightly granulated-looking- new environment. Of course, he wasn't alone; Roman, Virgil, and Patton were all there, standing in a circle. Virgil's hoodie wasn't purple anymore, Patton's shirt wasn't baby blue, and Roman's red shirt was now a dark gray. All of them seemed calm except for Virgil, who first whipped his head around and then stared in horror at his now-dull hoodie. I wonder why there's no color anywhere...

Not only did the world look like an old movie now, but everything seemed... too perfect. The air felt cold and the floor was made of tile. Every piece of furniture was lined up flawlessly, the measurements between them on point. This doesn't feel real. Humans are messy- they would never be able to make a room look this clean. Why doesn't this feel real? There was something in the back of his mind that told him that he knew the answer to that, but he couldn't quite remember it. How did we get here? Weren't we just in the mental hospital?

Patton suddenly gasped and stepped over to him. "Oh my goodness, Logan! What happened to your hands?" His eyes were wide, and he touched Logan's wrists. Logan looked down and blinked in confusion. Both of his hands were completely gone, his wrists round knubs. I don't remember not having hands. This was all so strange. This is all wrong. We need to get back to the mental hospital. If we don't, I'll miss my chance to get my brain transplant. But... how can I work without my hands? I'm a neurosurgeon, no replacement would work. Well, it didn't matter. Logan would rather... rather what? What work could he do without hands? I could get prosthetics, but would it ever be the same?

"Hey," Patton waved a hand in front of his face. "I lost you! Obviously, you don't know. Do you guys remember how we even got here? All I can remember is that I was in something like a void for a couple minutes." The other two shook their heads. Virgil went over to the closest filing cabinet and grumbled, "There might be something in these things. Start looking."

They each began to look in a separate filing cabinet. Logan pulled open one of the metal drawers of his and looked inside. It was packed full of files, and surprisingly, he instantly knew what they all contained. This file is about when I graduated college. This one is on the first time I experienced a death at work. These are all my memories. Well, if all the cabinets contained files like this- if this was the area of his brain where memories were kept- then if they went outside this room, they would certainly find a whole building. Although he sometimes forgot the easiest things, he usually had photographic memory due to the computer chip in his head. But why are we here? How are we here? No technology has been developed to my knowledge that lets someone delve into their own mind like this.

"Hey," Patton approached him, holding a file. "Are these... your memories?" He was having a hard time making eye contact- of course, Logan always did, so that wasn't a problem. "I... I read this one. I didn't realize just how badly you were treated when you told us earlier. To go through all of that... that must have been terrible."

"It's perfectly fine," Logan shrugged. "As I have said, I do not have emotions. Because of this, it didn't have any effect on me. I know I was 'treated unfairly' theoretically now, but in the current moment I was always just confused. Also note that just because I couldn't understand if I was doing anything wrong doesn't mean I was in the right. For example, just because I didn't understand why stealing was wrong when I was younger doesn't make me stealing candy okay."