Amnesia
  • Reads 6
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 5
  • Time 1h 32m
  • Reads 6
  • Votes 1
  • Parts 5
  • Time 1h 32m
Ongoing, First published Jul 19, 2016
That's it. The big secret. Our government was a hoax, and was really controlled by an organization called the 15th year program. Every fifteen years we were injected with a formula which erased our minds. Then they were able to reach into our minds and put in a new life, family, friends, everything. It prevented us from mentally getting older. It kept us young and fresh. We never grew older, and never had the chance to realize it. We never were able to find out in time before being swept away to the next world. When your mind was erased, you were transported to a new planet. It all started over. We had no time, no rules besides: work five days a week. Obey your supervisor. Don't run away. And, in my case, don't drink too much.
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The whole camp was filling with smoke. I coughed, praying that my lungs would keep working for just a few more minutes. "Eli, which way is west?" Adam's breathing was just as labored from physical exertion, smoke, and panic as mine was. I didn't even process the question. I didn't know. We couldn't see anything through the smoke because the fire was spreading so quickly, and I just realized I'd forgotten my walkie-talkie. "Don't know!" I answered. Adrenaline was the only thing that kept my feet going. I knew we'd come in the East Gate, and if the cells were in the center, then if we kept going straight, we were going to find the gate any second. "Keep straight!" I instructed. I saw his head bob slightly, acknowledging my delayed direction. Then Adam cried out beside me, and I stopped short. I reached for his body involuntarily as he pitched forward, nearly causing him to take me down with him. My left hand was soaking wet from where it had landed on his shoulder. I winced as I tried to steady him, not daring to look at what I knew would be a pool of blood in my hand. ☁ Now that they have a new ally on their side, they're looking to change the United States for good. At some point, they want every camp freed and every teenager home safe. But each new camp brings an endless supply of new challenges. Things are beginning to spin out of control. Follow each of them as they discover who they are, who they love, and more of their country's secrets than they could ever dream of in a thrilling trilogy told from all five points of view.
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{COMPLETED} "now that you've had your fun electrocuting me, would you care to hop in the backseat?" ---------------------------------------------------------- Freak DNA. That's what I like to call it. The fault to my genetic code. More often than not, it's a curse. The static running through my blood gave me a name. A cruel, daunting label of a measly bug. A roach. That's what I am to them, to the government. Roach; the nameless monster with electricity for a sense and lightening as a second nature. It ruined my life, the sparking currents playing tag in my mind, running around and bumping into everything, shaking me loose. The government, actually. They ruined my life. My curse just gave them a reason. You see, the normal population with ordinary DNA, they don't know about the people like me. The roaches of the world. We don't get that kind of recognition at the camps. There, we are only one thing in the military's eyes. We are weapons and we will act like it. Everyone else out there, bathing in the goodness they don't know they've got, they don't know about the roaches their stepping on. As long as their getting closer to the sky, they don't care what they stand on to reach it. They don't know about the sparkling dreamer that's killed 7 people before her 17th birthday. They don't about the ghost of a girl peaking around corners for her entire life because even home wasn't safe. They don't know about the fighter of steel and iron sucking on his bloody lip courtesy of the wars he battles in as nothing but a shadow. They don't know about the masked villain who would do anything to see the army they lead claim the throne They don't know about us. But they will, because we will rise. And when we arrive, we will arrive violently. ___________________________________________ Started: 10.06.15 Finished: 3.17.16
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The future is far beyond us. It does not exist. When an oblivious idiot takes credit for the invention of the third (and best functioning) model of the RCA, no one even so much as bats an eye, distraction. These models are the best of the best, at everything. Their muscle flexibility is 93% of ours, effectively eliminating non-realistic movement. They have software controlling their vocal output so that what they say always makes perfect sense, even in pronunciation. Everyone agrees on one thing: If they had a heart, they'd be just about human. And that's just it. Somewhere out there, the original prototype is running about, disguising himself as a normal gen3 RCA, when in reality, he's the only non-organic thing on earth to have emotion, and thought. The other RCAS are programmed to identify him as an immediate danger to the public. So he's always moving around. Looking for the finish to his one computer-made script, aptly called 'fate'. He will find it, and it must be complete.