Other Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ The Memory Machine ❯ Memories Antiques ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter 1-Memory Antiques

 

The ringing of the bell signaling the entrance of a customer perked Jorgen's ears. He raised his head from the paperwork for his recent customer. He saw a tall, slender woman of the age of at least eighteen; at most, twenty-one. She had pale, crystal shaded eyes and short, unevenly cut, pink tie-dyed hair that was rather difficult to ignore. She wore a rather business like suit that gave off the impression of a lawyer or, obviously, a business woman. She was looking around anxiously, as if she were unsure that this was the right place. She seemed to not realize he was even there.

After several minutes of this, Jorgen was indeed positive she was unaware of his presence. Grinning, he said in a playful voice, “Boo!” With a shriek, the woman leapt off the ground. She spun around several times as if she were under attack. She then turned and saw Jorgen standing behind the counter. For a moment she observed his appearance. He had hazel, cheerful eyes and a slight goatee growing on his chin. He was dangerously skinny and wore an old, 1930s black vest and white business shirt underneath that. His hair was brown and was a buzz cut. He wore cynical glasses that showed his eyes perfectly.

With a sigh, she pushed what had just happened aside and said in a timid voice, “Hello, sir. Is this `Memory Antiques?'” She looked out the windows as if the name of the shop was a taboo.

Still grinning, Jorgen said in a cheery voice, “Indeed this is, young lady! Watcha' need? A classic painting? A vase? Maybe a chest? You can't go wrong with a chest! We also sell--,”

“Actually,” she interrupted, “I would like to see…the `back room.'”

Jorgen's cheery eyes became slits, small and suspicious. Reaching under the counter, he pressed a button and the shades on the windows dropped instantly, blocking view from the outside, but allowing light to seep through the windows. “Stand erect,” he commanded in a business like tone.

The woman did as he said. Walking up to her, Jorgen slipped his hand into her pockets and pulled out the content. As he did this, he said, “Deeply sorry, miss, but you can't trust anyone nowadays to empty their own pockets. They always hide a police badge in a pocket and pretend there's nothing there. And sometimes, they have a hidden pocket in the jacket or shirt. Speaking of which, your jacket, please? I would like to search it without breaking my principles in the process.”

The woman hesitated for a minute than gave him the jacket. He shoved his hand in the two inner pockets and filed through them. One was empty; the other, however, had a bulge. “Hello, what do we have here?” Jorgen sang. He pulled out a wallet and flipped it open. He saw a work ID for a magazine company, a debit card, some money in the fold, and nothing else of interest. “Ach,” he said. “How boring. Well, at least you ain't a cop. Here is your jacket.” He returned the article of clothing to the woman, who put it back on with lightning speed.

Jorgen than took a key and locked the front door, then moved to the door to the passageway that led to the back room and signaled for her to follow.

They crossed from a small antique shop to a small, dim hallway. Taking out another key, Jorgen unlocked the door leading to the back room. The woman looked past Jorgen to see a mechanical chair with straps, much like an electric chair, with a kind of cap attached to the head of it. On the back of the chair was a large box with several USB ports with flash-drives plugged in. Printed on the side of the chair was “Memory Machine.”

The overall room was different from the main business room where Jorgen selled antiques. This room was pure white and clean, and had a desk facing the door and chair set up with a computer screen built into the desk. Another screen hung from the ceiling and hung before the seat built into the ground. Glass cabinets hung from the wall to the right of the desk. In the cabinets, various strange ingredients were visible as well as bottles of strange medicines the woman failed to identify.

Jorgen pointed to chair and said in his cheery voice, “Make yourself comfy, dear. This will only be a minute, and then we'll begin. All I need from you is cooperation and some answers. But first, get in the chair.”

The woman obeyed. As she settled in the chair, Jorgen grabbed a flash drive out of a drawer and said, “Mam, I believe I'll need your whole name, first, middle, and last, so I can file your medication. Oh, don't look so shocked!” he added, seeing a look of terror on the woman's face. “This procedure can cause…symptoms to occur when untreated. You just need to take one of those pills,” he pointed to the medications in the cabinets, “at least twice a day, and you'll be perfectly fine. Now, then, your name?”

The woman hesitated for merely a second, and then said, “Laura. Laura Cormena.”

“Humph. A pretty name, a pretty face—it'd be a shame if the symptoms got ya. You can pull out now if you don't have enough confidence to go through with this.” For a minute, Jorgen looked like himself—a real human being instead of a cheerful clerk or a shifty criminal selling illegal treatments.

“I'm positive,” Laura said. “I just want to forget—just want to discard of the darkness of my life. Get rid of my weaknesses, everything.” She than turned to Jorgen and said. “I'm ready.”

Sighing, Jorgen said, “If you say so.” He then walked up to the chair and strapped in Laura's wrists and ankles. He then tightened the metal cap on Laura's temple and plugged the flash drive into one of the many USB ports and put his hand on a switch. He than looked at Laura and said, “I'll be guiding you, step-by-step.” Laura smiled—a first—and nodded. Jorgen returned the gesture, and flung the switch.

There was a brief jolt, and then darkness. Then, Laura felt jolted again as she appeared in a large, infinite room. There was a table with a black box and white box sitting on its surface. She looked around, slightly confused. The “Memory Machine” was supposed to delve into one's mind along with the user and allow the user of the machine to save, create, or destroy memories, emotions, personalities, or anything else that is in sync with the mind. Of course, she had expected something weird, but a room with two tables and some boxes? What the hell was she supposed to do?

“Hm,” Jorgen's voice said out of a small speaker on the table. “Interesting. Your mind seems to have created a rather simple yet seemingly useful room. You see, each individual's mind automatically creates a room that suits their practical purposes and needs for the machine. In other words, your mind created this room so that it would be easy for you to save, create, and destroy qualities of the mind. Understood?”

Surprisingly, Laura understood it perfectly. She walked up to the table and noticed a drawer on the table. She opened it up and dug her hand in it. She pulled out what looked like an orb of light. She observed the orb for a minute, and then saw an image in it. It was her, at the age of five, smiling and happy. She then knew what these were; these were her memories, along with her emotions and attitudes.

She stared at the memory in her hand with a deep passion in her eyes. It recalled better days, when she found it easier to smile than ever before in her life. Then…life changed…

“Yoo-hoo! Pretty lady!” the speaker said to Laura. “What the hell are you doing? The longer you do this, the larger the chance we'll get caught!” Laura snapped back into reality.

She looked towards the speaker and said, “Which box is which?”

“Damn…you seriously don't know? Fine. The white box will be disposed of, along with all the memories and emotions with it. The black box saves memories. Got it?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Laura replied. She put back the memory of happiness and dug through the drawer searching for the emotions and memories of which she seeked. Filing through, she found one of her emotions. It was her recently found shyness. Holding it in her hand, she observed it. She knew it was that because it showed her every time she had ever been shy. It wasn't like the memory, where it showed just one event. It was more like a collaboration created to convenience her. She hated it. Opening the lid of the white box, she dropped it in, and laid the lid on the table. She then filed through the drawer until she saw it; the image that had tortured her since it had happened. She held it to her face until she was positive this was it. It was her brother, mangled and hanging from chaotic wreckage, dying. She felt her eyes well up. Quickly, she thrust the orb into the white box, and threw the lid on top of the box. By now, tears were streaming down her face. “Take me out!” she shrieked. “I'm done!”

Laura felt a powerful jolt as she was pulled out of her own mind. Once again, there was darkness. Then, Laura found herself in the chair, Jorgen unstrapping her from the chair. “Really,” he said, “that took too long. And now you're crying! Seriously, people will think things! You little—oh, gees, you're pale. It's started already.”

“Wh…” Laura struggled, “what…do y…you mean?” “Her skin and insides felt dangerously hot.

“The symptoms! Take this quick!” he yelled, shoving a pill in her mouth. Laura swallowed, and almost instantly the heat disappeared. “Whew,” Jorgen sighed, plopping into a chair. “That was bad. Your skin was pallid, but your cheeks were pink from the heat and tears. By the way, THOSE were some of the symptoms caused by the machine. You just need to take these pills for two weeks, two times a day. Do the math, Laura—28 pills for two weeks. Got it?”

Sighing, Laura nodded. She stood up and said, “I'll leave the money on the counter.”

“No, no need. After everything that just happened—the crying was a dead give away—I'll let you have this all free. However, if you ever wish to jolt again, you'll have to pay.

“Now then, here is the flash drive,” he added, giving Laura the flash drive. “I'm sure you'll find SOMETHING interesting to do with it. Now, time to leave! Do come again.” Laura smiled and nodded. She then left the room.