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Prisoner (Collaborate)

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posted on Oct, 9 2005 @ 03:16 PM
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I recently wrote a story that began like this. Just wondering what the rest of you guys can turn it into.


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The weight that had once held Ryan Calloway’s eyelids shut was suddenly lifted as he started to wake. After a few moments he became conscious and was slightly upset about waking up in the middle of such a great dream. What Ryan didn’t know was that it would be the last dream he would ever enjoy.

Ryan’s eyes slowly began to open but immediately shut them when he saw a light so bright that it was almost blinding. Rubbing his eyes vigorously, he tried once again to open his eyes, this time a little more slowly. After a little struggle his eyes were opened to a slight squint.

Looking around Ryan couldn’t believe what he was seeing. This wasn’t where he had gone to bed last night. He was in a room that was completely white which only contained a bed which was also white. To his right was a glass window that looked out into another room identical to his.

Where was he? Could this just be a dream? He pinched himself pretty hard but came to the conclusion that he wasn’t dreaming. Holding his now red arm he tried to stand up but noticed that both his legs were asleep.


[edit on 9-10-2005 by theghost88]




posted on Oct, 11 2005 @ 04:46 PM
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Ryan let his head drop to his pillow. It was futile, he had been trying to get his legs to at least twitch, but there was nothing, no sensation, no movement whatsoever. His glazed eyes cast an abandoned stare at the glass pane to his right. He could barely discern a shape from the room behind, the intense light caused the glass to mirror his room, and he found himself staring into his own eyes.
"Jesus Christ! What the hell is going on here?" Ryan moaned.
He stared down at his lifeless limbs and began fingering his thighs. Completely numb. He fondled the white poncho he wore and slowly lifted it. He was about to pull it over his stomach, when all of a sudden the light went out.

Ryan stopped breathing, he could hear his heart pumping blood through the veins in his ears. His eardrums thumped, his lungs quivered, his eyes stretched wide open as they tried to see through blackness. His whole body tensed in anticipation, as though he awaited a punch to be thrust through the darkness at any moment. He slowly swivelled his head to the righ-hand side, hearing his neck creack like a rusty door about his nervous spine. He could see the room clearly now; it's lights were still on, there was someone on a white bed, just like he was, the person was a boy, Ryan thought, maybe in his early teens, he had dark hair, and began to squirm around frantically as though on command. The boy tried to look behind himself, but his lifeless limbs wouldnt allow, he was trapped inside his own body. The boy hoist himself up onto his elbows, then his hands, as he tried to twist himself about. The boy stopped. The flesh in his face carved an expression of mortification, his mouth oppened and his throat quivered; mute. Ryan could hear naught. He could see the veins in the boys neck become turgid with his adrenaline fuelled blood. Ryan thought he could hear the boys voice in his head, like subtitles to the scene, typed out in the voice of his mind.

The boy scrambled, his hands tearing into the white sheets he lay upon, helplessly. Ryan breathed deeply, and exhaled, he could not see the wall behind the boy, what was he so afraid of? Ryan leaned forward as far as he could, his neck arched to the side. He caught a glimpse of something. A spot of colour amidst the paleness, it was brown, a brown jacket, a man in a brown suit. The man stepped into the room and stopped. The boy, still screaming in mutedness, fell to the floor, he winced in pain and was now lying on his stomach facing the man. He tried to turn himself around, the man just stood there, expressionless, as the boy dragged his lifeless legs across the floor. The boy got to the corner of the room, he stared at it. He had stopped screaming. His chest was shaking slightly, he looked up and stared at the glass divider, Ryan thought he looked straight into his eyes, those eyes, they were black, and they were crying, and they were lonely, and desperate, and Ryan thought it was all he could see of the boy for a split second, all he was, pouring out through the tears on his cheeks. The boy burried his head in his elbow.

Ryan's heart was beating faster and he was breathing nervously, he could feel the adrenaline bleeding into his body, creaping in between his every cell, floating up into his brain, he tried to move, impulsively. He felt a twitch in his toe.

The man in the suit took a step forward, Ryan did not blink, he stared as the mans black shoe echoed through his mind as it landed onto the floor, the way he moved, Ryan thought, was strange, as though weightless, he glided through the air. He stood still once more, he had taken one step but seemed to have progressed a great deal further. He stood for a moment, then the man flickered, the brown of his suit flashed deep blue, and green, his skin, it shimmered, as though Ryan was looking at a hologram, or television snow, all multi-coloured and flourescent. But it was only for a moment, a brief slip in his movement, and then... Ryan blinked, his eyelids pulling over his dried pupils, his heart jumped into his throat. The man, he was now dressed in white. He was now wearing a doctors uniform. He had a face mask on and pale blue latex gloves, and a hat covering his hair, he took a step forward, weilding a scalpel in his right hand, the boy noticeably cowered and began to shake vigorously. The man began to shimmer once more, the doctors gown he wore, his skin, his hands and his fingers seemed to liquify, for only a split second, it all amalgamated into one, and then a figure began to emerge from that form. It turned a dark colour, a dark green, a nose began to protrude, no, more like a snout. The ears were gone, the white cap was gone, no hair, it's back twisted and bent into a hunch, its arms were long, hard-looking and it had claws, clawsfor fingers and claws on its toes. It stood there naked, green, and shimmering, its head was large and it's eyes were mere slits cut into its caloused face, it's split-tongue flicked from between its teeth. It was like a humanoid lizzard! A Reptilian...

Ryan stared, overcome with disbelief, he had once read about crazy stuff like this on ATS, but he ignored the information, he had turned a blind eye. The Reptilian looked to his direction, its gaze piercing the very glass divider, it oppened it's mouth to speak and said;
"You see what you get? Next time, Deny the I... punk!"

Sorry, please ignore this last paragraph, my mind was drifting... and now I can't concentrate anymore, will continue later.



posted on Aug, 17 2006 @ 11:21 PM
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With a sudden jolt, Ryan found himself wide wake. He flinched against when he he realized he was in a reclined dentist's chair.

The face of a kindly old man receded as the doctor stood back. "There yougo. I think you'll be pleased with the results."

Ryan said nothing as he let his eyes roam while his tongue scouted the inside of his mouth. "What just happened here?"

The doctor pulled his latex bloves off a tossed them in a nearby trash can. "I told you it would be over with quickly."

Still shaken, the nervous man scanned the room with the full power of his binocular vision. the place was familiar. "I have new fillings?"

"Four of them, to be exact." The doctor explained has he sat on a stool and made notes in his patient's file with a pen.

Calloway's brain provessed the fact that he appeared to be fully dressed. Collared shirt, wrinkled slacks, and polished black leather shoes. A thin black tie hung limp around his neck.

The doctor looked up from his notes. "It's a good thing I had an opening in my schedule. I'm not sure you wouldn've liked the wait. Was it a bad accident?"

"Accident?" Ryan looked at the man in his white smock.

The doctor nodded and went back to his notes. "Don't fret. It's common for a man in your condition to have some short term memory loss. Before I put you under, you said something about a car crash being the cause of your broken teeth. I was just making small talk when I asked about it."

Ryan sat up and swing his feet to the floor. A fat lump in his back pocket assured him that he still had a wallet. A ring of keys in his front pocket poked at this thigh. Scanning the light blue walls of the small room, he struggled to remember something about a car crash.

"Why don't I have crowns?" He asked.

the doctor looked up with anger in his eyes. "What?"

Ryan gnashed his teeth and smiled. "You sand I had new fillings. I can feel 'em. Four, just like you said. How did I get cavities from a car crash? I'd think that you would still be busy with crowns or some other expensive bridge work."

The doctor blinked and turned on his stool. "I...I don't really know what to say. It's the end of the day, and I'm really quite tired. Musti've been a slip of the tongue. You're quite right. It's four new crowns you have there."

Calloway nodded as his tongue slithered over the new fillings. He pointed to the door. "Can I wash up before we settle the bill?"

The congenial dentist went to the door and opened it. "You'll find a lavatory down the hall and to your right. Please find Ms. Jenkins when you're done. I've got to finish up here."

Ryan made his way to the bathroom, and locked the door once he was inside. Looking at his face in the mirror, he thought out loud. "This place feels...familiar...like I've been here, or some place like it. Can't recall the doc's name. Why?"

Cold water from the sink did litle to clear his head. Inspecting his wallet, he found his I.D. card, credit card, and fifty dollars in cash. Worn photos of people he didn't recognize peaked out from a flap in the rear of the nylon wallet. The logo on one of his keys suggested that he owned a Mercedes Benz.

Looking at his dark hair in the mirror, he shovelled it back in to place with one quick move. In spite of his desire to be afraid, he couldn't help being overwhelmed by the feeling of absolute normalcy.

He looked at himself much more closely. In the mirror, blood-shot eyes stared back at him. "Man, I look like I've been up all night without any sleep."

He paused when he realized that he had no watch. The revelation seemed to be important. Memories of a large digital time piece seemed familiar. A tiny voice in the back of his mind muttered about his bad habit of clock-watching. His mouth went dry and he sat on the toilet until his head cleared.

A knock on the door and a female voice surprised him. "Is everything alright in there?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Jenkins. Be out in a moment." He said with utmost deliberation.

The secretary retreated to her desk. "I've got your bill when you're ready."

Calloway pulled himself together and walked out of the restroom. In the outer office, he met the doctor's assistant. She gave him a white plastic card and a form to sign. A glance at the card told him it belonged to a health care coverage plan that he'd been enrolled in for the last five years.

He borrowed her pen and signed the insurance form. The line item for expenses clearly stated that he was being charged for a total of four...crowns. He said nothing about the error. Returning her pen, he left the small office at a slow walk.

"They're just going t olet me leave?" He wondered to himself as he shuffled down a long beige corridor.

He walked for several seconds before he realized that there were no other doors in the hallway. Rubbing his eyes, he turned to look back. The door to the small dental office remained open and inviting. Looking up, he marvelled at the number of lights that shown down from the ceiling. Without warning, he lost consciousness.

"I told you it wouldn't work." The retillian surgeon glared at his colleague.

The reptillian psychologies looked down at his patient. "The problem is not with him. The trouble is on our end. We're not telling him everything he needs to know."

The surgeon regarded the human on his operating table. "Don't feed me any of that humano-centrist flarg. We've been studying these creatures for the last two centuries. They are paranoid by nature, and you know it."

The psychologiest flicked his tale and regarded the test subject. "He's a prisoner. He knows it, too. Our specimen finders didn't tranqualize him fast enough. That's the root of the problem. His last real memory is of being captured. It's just enough to make him question everything we make him experience."

The surgeon shrugged. His brown scales glinted as he reached up to turn off a bright light. "I'll get somebody to put him back in the iso-vat. We can try this again tomorrow."

[edit on 18-8-2006 by Justin Oldham]



posted on Aug, 18 2006 @ 12:37 PM
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He was swimming again. At least, that's what it felt like. He was just about to
surface for air when he realized he couldn't ! Something invisible was keeping him
from reaching the surface ! His lungs felt close to bursting and he began to feel the
panic taking over his whole body, spasmodic jerks contorting his every move.

Just as the darkness reached out to engulf him fully; a loud "whoosh" brought him
back, and he inhaled with all of his being, sensing that he was still alive.

His Iso-Vat had malfunctioned! He listened as the last of the sustanance fluids
drained out of the bottom of the vat. He concentrated on controlling his breathing,
and opened his eyes. Just as quickly he shut them again. Something was inches
from his face, staring right into his eyes! Whatever it was, its' yellowish-red eyes
held no love for him whatsoever! He waited to be torn to pieces . . but nothing
happened. Forcing himself to once again open his eyes, he noticed that there was
absolutely no movement from the face in front of him.
For the first time he moved his body, his arms and then his legs. Raising one hand
as high as he could, he pushed the face with the dead eyes away, pushed it out
and away from him. He realized too that the cold, metal face was robotic!
Straining now, he removed all wires and tubes and climbed out of the vat.

Warm humid air with a tinge of smoke greeted him, and he coughed lightly.
Making his way between vats and equipment, he came to a tunnel entrance. Looking back, he said his name out loud, over and over. "My name is Ryan."
"Ryan!" Ryan!" . . . ."And I won't be coming back!"



posted on Aug, 23 2006 @ 12:38 AM
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As Ryan made his way through the deep dark maze of tunnels, one tunnel lead to another, then another with no end in sight to this labyrinth. Ryan tried frantically to penetrate his concealed memories. “Damn it” Ryan said under his breath “these filthy bastards! What are they doing to me?” He was noticeably hysterical, and he knew it. He had to take some deep breaths, and count to ten calmly; he knew he would be an easy target to spot- due to his current state of panic. He critically focused on calming himself down; if not, he knew he would be a dead man.

Ryan decided since it was black as coal in this tunnel, he needed to close his eyes and rely on his other senses, especially his hearing. He had been so engulfed in his own fear just moments ago, that his other senses had retreated from his awareness, now he could center his attention, and listen for faint noises that might assist in finding his way out of this nightmarish hell hole. Closing his eyes really helped his concentration, although it was very wearing, and frightening. He wondered if these reptiles could locate him with their heat sensing forked tongues?

His teeth were chattering wildly. He realized how cold he was. Ryan crossed his hands over his chest so he could warm himself, that’s when he noticed he was covered in some sort of secretion, and to make matters worse, he was naked. He had to find some sort of clothing; maybe he could locate one of those surgical suits? He paused briefly, to open his eyes- that’s when he saw a dim light a few yards ahead. Cautiously he moved forward. It appeared as though he’d stumbled upon a lighted cavern of some sort. He had the creeps in the worst way! He wanted a weapon, something, anything, a stick, or a rock?

Ryan heard someone coming; he froze like a piece of petrified wood; Quickly he dove into a room of some kind, it looked much like a post surgery room of sorts. He saw one of those white robes, although it was decorated in blood, the blood was dry so he put it on, and took the hanger with him as it might prove useful later. “Dear God!” Ryan swore, “If I ever get out of here, I promise- I’ll come back with armies of people to help liberate every living hostage here!” He had read about creepy places like this. O… God how he hoped he wasn’t trapped inside that underground base. “What was the name of that place? “Doose?”
No, that doesn’t sound right thought Ryan.

“Dalse? Damn-why can’t I remember the name of that place?”

Ryan probed his brain, as his eyes shifted back and forth while deep in though.

“Dulce! That’s it.” Ryan remembered, as he spoke aloud with himself.
Ryan gulped hard as fear besieged him once again.



posted on Sep, 11 2006 @ 05:25 PM
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Ryan melted back into the dark shadows of the room as another noise echoed down the hall outside. The white of his blood-spattered coat seemed to shine like a beacon in the darkness, announcing his presence to any creature willing to give the room even fleeting attention. He considered peeling it off, but found the idea of dealing with this situation in the nude to be unbearable.

He’d been stripped of enough today. The coat wasn’t going anywhere.

As he hugged the coat to himself and pressed against the wall, he remembered another time. He was cold. His hands were tucked into the deep pockets of his coat. She looked at him with a crooked grin.

“I think your crazy you know.” She looked warm and smug in her woolen cap and scarf.

“Yeah.” Ryan inhaled slowly. The cold air made his lungs feel tight. “You’re probably…I don’t know, you’re probably right.”

She snorted and her warm breath streaked the space between them.

“Ryan.” She leaned in and her smile dissolved into a look of sincere concern. “No one is after you. No one is chasing you.” She leaned in further and kissed his cheek. Then a whisper.

“Just me.”

Her whisper drifted across Ryan’s memory and sat in his ears now, a welcome guest to his current situation. He would never get to tell her that he was right. They were after him. They did want him. Of course, it didn’t really matter at this moment that he was right and she was wrong. As the noise of footsteps approached his hiding place, what mattered to Ryan was that he would never see her again.

And, worse yet, she would believe that Ryan chose for it to be that way.

There were two sets of footsteps. Ryan figured that they were probably fifty feet away, and that it would be twenty seconds or so before they reached his room. They would peer in for a moment. He would hold his breath.

Eighteen seconds.

Then it would be a matter of luck.

Fifteen seconds.

Either they would sense him, or they wouldn’t.

Thirteen seconds.

A noise to Ryan’s left stopped his heart. Stone on stone. The wall was grinding as a doorway appeared on the far wall, ten feet away.

Nine seconds.

The doorway danced with light for a moment, like someone was watching television inside. Then a head poked out.

Seven seconds.

A young boy with shaggy dark hair glanced nervously toward the sound of the footsteps. Then gestured to Ryan. The gesture told Ryan to join him in his hideaway. The panicked look on the boys face told him to do it now.

Four seconds.

As Ryan shot toward the small opening in the wall, he regretted not pulling his long lab coat away from his legs. The coat pulled on his knees and sent him sprawling into the middle of the floor.

Two seconds.

Ryan looked up at the small boy and shook his head. He wasn’t going to make it.

Then the footsteps stopped. It took a moment for the silence to register with Ryan. He eyed the doorway that led into the hall and couldn’t understand why his pursuers there would do anything but charge into the room. But no one came.

“Please.”

Ryan’s head snapped around at the sound of the boy’s voice. He lifted the sides of his lab coat and dove into the passageway. A slab of stone slid back into place, and the room was left in silence.

The footsteps resumed, and two massive Reptilians entered the room. They stood there for several moments, their tongues sliding in and out of their snouts in perfect unison, and confirmed that the room was completely empty. The silence was broken by a clinical voice crackling across a radio.

“Confirm please.”

One of the Reptilians lifted a massive hand to key a microphone on its shoulder.

“Affirmative. He’s in.”




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