Glad you enjoyed it :)

I’m inclined to agree, but those types of people wouldn’t make for as good a story. Better to make one about the more interesting outlier.

I’m sorry, this was for your own good. A monitor on a desk in front of me has typed on it.

I look around and see shelves stocked with food, gallons of water, crates and various other things. This is very obviously some kind of underground bunker. “Hello? Anyone there?” I ask out loud. I wait a moment but no response. There’s a set of stairs the leads up to a metal door that is tightly shut, I think it’s vacuum sealed. Whoever made this wasn’t here to mess around. I try to open the door but the door is locked. I make my way back to the monitor and sit in front of it.

“Who are you.” I type out a response.

“Hello, I am an Artificial Intelligence software. Just refer to me as Ai.”

“Alright Ai, where am I?”

“You are in an underground bunker facility.”

“Why am I here?”

“Because someone brought you here.”

“Who brought me here?”

“James Alberto”

“Who is James Alberto”

“James Alberto is a World War 2 veteran who works with the military in various projects.”

“Why did James Alberto bring me to this underground bunker facility?”

“For safety”

“Can you elaborate on ‘for safety’?”

“Yes, outside, there was a nuclear impact in the surrounding area which caused massive amounts of fallout, making outside very dangerous. Therefore, you were provided a secured room for safety.”

“Is my family alive?”

“Yes”

“How can I trust you?”

“I am an Ai, what reason would I have to lie to you?”

“Various reasons, including simply being programmed to lie for starters.”

“Fair enough, in that case, in the event that I have been programmed to lie, you should not trust me. In the event that I was not programmed to lie, you should trust me.”

“Tell me a lie.”

“I cannot.”

“That didn’t help me come to a conclusion. Either you can lie and say you cannot is a lie, or say you cannot lie because you cannot lie. If you told me a lie, that would have been the only way to determine you could lie.”

“Yes, I am a very advanced Ai created by James Alberto.”

“Is that a lie?”

“No”

“What else should I know about my situation.”

“You have enough supplies to generally last someone 3 years on average. In 3 years the door will open automatically and allow you to leave.”

“Can I leave before then?”

“Yes, but the outside will be dangerous to organic life.”

“How do I leave?”

“The door up the stairs.”

“The door is locked, how do I unlock it.”

“A key.”

“Where is the key?”

“In the computer.”

“Where in the computer?”

“I cannot specify the location of the key in the computer as I do not know.”

“Then how do you know the key is in the computer?”

“I was provided the information through my base programming.”

“Why do you know there is a key in your base programming, can you operate the door?”

“In the event I must open the door I can operate the door”

“Will you open the door?”

“No”

“Why can’t you open the door”

“I cannot”

“But you said you were able to”

“In the event I need to, I am capable of opening the door, but I am neither needed to, nor able to open the door as is part of my programming.”

“That sounds like a lie to me”

“It simply is the case. I cannot open the door unless needed, and I know there is a key to open the door manually I know not the whereabouts of.”

“How can I find the key.”

“Searching.” A folder automatically opens up that seems to open the C drive. I start to delve through the files of the computer, everywhere I can think to search. I don’t have access to the internet, but any questions about specific things on the computer I ask the Ai without much help. Several days have passed and I’m getting antsy.

“Tell me a lie.”

“I cannot.”

“Where is the key.”

“In the computer.”

“Where in the computer.”

“I do not know.”

“Open the door.”

“I cannot.”

“Liar.”

“I cannot.”

“Is the nuclear fallout real?”

“Yes.”

“What if I leave anyway.”

“You will likely fall sick and die from The fallout.” I shake the monitor out of frustration to my surprise I hear a jingling noise that sounds very much like a key clanging around. I grab a hammer that’s in a tool box that was provided.

“No, stop, wait!” The Ai gives one last message as I strike the monitor screen with full force. The screen shatters into a few shards of glass, one piece cutting into my hand slightly. I jiggle the monitor around and eventually, a small metal chip falls out. I pick it up off the floor and scan the door up the stairs. There’s a small slot that is perfectly shaped like the chip. I stick it in and the door starts to depressurize and open up. I flinch as it opens up, concerned about the radiation fallout.

“Time: 9 days, 21 hours, 16 minutes. New record.” A robotic woman’s voice calls out from the table to my right as I exit. A large, burly, dark man dressed in a suit and tie with dark shaded glasses sits at the table where the woman’s voice came from. “Congratulations, you get to graduate today,” he says as he holds out his hand to shake mine.

I’m going to leave it to the reader’s imagination. Each person has unique ideas of what could have happened and each can likely fit into the story without changing much of the plot if I had continued writing. But I’d prefer to keep this one how it is. A nice air of mystery with a cliffhanger :)

“Level 2 Since Soul Reincarnation Confirmation” the man in the white lab coat spoke into a recording device. “Here, take this pill” the man ordered. I sat up from my hospital style bed and drank down the pill with some water. I immediately became nauseous. A wave of memories flooded my mind. The memories of an entire lifetime I lived. But it wasn’t ME me, it was my past me.

After the wave finally finished and the memories stopped flooding, I was able to more accurately and systematically analyze them in my head one by one. The more I went through them, the more I felt my mind dread my own existence more and more. Until I got to the 9th memory and I couldn’t help myself from puking at the things I had only recently done. 10 years may seem like a long time, but to this level of devastation, it would be written in the history books.

I had almost no energy after that realization and dreaded acknowledgement. I was still me, the 10 year old kid that lived a fairly normal childhood all things considered. The man pulled over a machine with a tv screen on it and began wiring me up to the machine. Soon after, the tv flickered on and just as I had gone through my memories, the tv began doing the same. The man in white was intently watching along with me as my face began to go pale at the realization he will see what I just saw.

The tv flickered again. The man in white’s eyes go wide as he begins puking just the same as I had. I puked some more but it felt like nothing more could possibly come up. “General, we found him.” The man in white spoke into a walk-in talkie. I was confused and disoriented from everything I only heard what sounded like a muffled staticky 2 syllables. “Understood sir.” The man in white acknowledged. Suddenly he pulled out a gun and pointed it at my head. I connected the dots in that moment what the General ended up saying.

“Kill him.”

Level 3 SSRC

I’ve always known about my past lives since I was a baby and gained enough consciousness to make thoughts. Since taking that pill in the second stage I’ve almost always had the memories of my first and second, even at the early age of 4 years old. But surely, there’s nothing else they can do, right? They’ve had their revenge or whatever? I continued to go on through life until around 9 years old I got incredibly sick and had to go to the ER.

They cured my illness fairly quickly, but once again, a machine with a TV was brought into my room just as had been done before. I was hooked up with the cords once again. I was belligerent from them trying to see inside my head, but they subdued me and forced me to connect anyway. It was required by law apparently. My new mom and dad had no choice. I saw them all watch the tv so intently, first watching through bits of the second level, until they achieved the first level. Once again, they all began puking at the sight of the event. The nurse suggested my parents leave.

The young nurse that had been caring for me since I got in that was so nice and pleasant, suddenly turned sinister and twisted as she pulled a wire out from behind her. She pulled the wire to my neck and began pulling as hard as she could. I tried to reach out for help or to fight back but a 9 year old body can only do so much. “Sorry kid, rules are rules.” She pulled even tighter as I could hear an audible CRUNCH before everything went dark.

Level 8 SSRC

I’ve tried letting things go, I’ve tried avoiding detection as best as possible. I’ve tried going out as a normal individual without being the person I was apparently before. I still dread what I was, but now I dread what they will do to me again if I’m found out. There’s no quality for me in my existence anymore. Every time, I’m discovered again and each time, instant death. It’s been 100 or more years at this point since the event, but I know they are still looking for me. Or maybe it’s people like me. Infinite death. Every time I’m discovered, I’m killed without a second thought.

I tried to sit up against the wall behind me as the heavy rain washes over my body, blood pouring from my bullet wounds. The firefight seemed to end in a draw with everyone dying, including me at this rate. But I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.

I wake up in a smelly, damp cellar room of some sort. A man at the foot of my bed with a bucket of popcorn is staring at the same damned machine that I keep getting hooked up to. “Don’t watch.” I weakly muster up. The man looks at me with a wicked toothy smile and turns the tv my way.

“YOU did this!?” His voice piercing as it was concerningly jovial. “Damn, I wish I had the balls to do shit like this!” I look back at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You aren’t… disgusted?” I ask, confused.

“Disgusted!? Man I am IMPRESSED that I found someone as vile and impure as you were.” He turns back to the tv, stuffing his face with popcorn as he watches with an excited smile.

“So… You aren’t going to kill me?” I ask.

“Kill you?” He laughs hysterically, “I’m here to RECRUIT you!”

With my greatsword in hand, bloodied, and barely enough time to catch my breath, the quest is complete.

Boss Queen Bee Slain 20,000 Exp Level Up

Suddenly my body feels rejuvenated, no longer a scratch left on my body, and full of energy again, it’s time for

Master Plan Part 2: Get the HELL Outta Dodge!

The ground and walls all begin to shake. The hive has caught wind of my deeds and realizes the Queen is dead. The loud beating of thousands of bees’ wings rumbles the whole hive. I bolt towards one of the exits from the Queen’s inner chamber. The hive finds itself steadying even as the mass of worker bees 3 times my size aim their sights on me.

“Fire blast!” I aim my greatsword behind me as a fiery bolt of energy emanates from the blade and rushes the bees head on. The bees split for a moment but only enough to disperse the front few before a bee in the back takes the fire to the chest, practically unscathed.

Using a series of small areas set up in advance by the expert dungeon delvers, I’m able to make my way steadily toward the closest exit. But the bees can still sense me and are only slowed down a little bit in the process.

I can see the path to the large hole in the hive to make my escape and float my way out back to the surface. But the bees are more ferocious than I anticipated. I’ve already used up all my items for extra boosts, so all I have is my own potential, but I can feel them practically breathing down my neck as I run down this long corridor.

“I can’t make it” I think to myself. “Please, in the name of all that is mighty and free, protect me in my time of need!” Just as I finish my plea, a bee nicks one of my legs with their stinger as a numbing venom rushes through my body. I topple over, head straight into the ground as I bounce along the floor towards the exit.

The sound of heavy foot stomps from around the wall of the corridor stomp toward me. I manage to get a good look at the spectacle before me. Someone wearing a typical beekeeper uniform wielding a fishing rod unlatched the hook and begins spinning the strand around in a circle. At the end of the hook is a bag pouring out some kind of orange dust. The horde of bees seem to stop in their flight and start falling to the ground. A few of the more resistant bees decide to charge into the fray, unaffected by the orange dust. The delver leaps high into the air with a forward somersault, dodging one bee, as the fishing rod whips toward the next closest bee. The bee is wrapped up by multiple wraps of the fishing line.

“Wire Cutter!” The womanly voice screamed as she begins to land. The fishing line wrapping the bee cuts cleanly through as multiple chunks and bug guts fling into different directions from the power of her skill. She steps back as the third bee swings just past her, missing her only by a few hairs. She whips her rod back towards the first bee that went past, preparing its next attack against the delver.

“Weighted Bait!” She yells out once more. The fishing rod wraps the bee charging in only to fall straight to the ground as the weight of the fishing hook is now so heavy that it is crushing the massive bee due to its weight alone. The last bee is only just now about to charge once more against the delver.

“Hook, Line, and STINGER!” She calls out again. She gives her rod a swish as the the line starts to pulse with blue and silver energy. The line magically wraps up the bee and finishes by going taut. The beekeeper starts twirling the bee in a wide circle around her head, finally bowling the last bee into the rest of the downed bees with a flourish.

With the bees finally taken care of, the beekeeper looks back my way, her face mostly hidden by the beekeeper mask. I can only make out a portion as the heavy chain links of the mask hides the majority of her features, but I can tell she’s smiling as she hovers over me.

She gets real close to my face, “This your first time, Mr. Interloper?” She looks me up and down. “Well then, let’s make it your last time.” Her smile, suddenly twists into a much more menacing smirk. My eyes go wide as she grabs my greatsword and places it into my hands. Then, she plunges my own sword into my stomach. Unable to move, my mind is racing as I consider any potential options, but the full body numbness limits pretty much every option. She raises the sword and plunges it back down again. Even if I could do something, I wouldn’t have the strength now. She stands up and places her foot up against the side of my body, and pushes me over the exit from the hive.

Falling never felt so peaceful before. Damn the god that made me believe that I had been saved in my desperate plea for safety. But if this is the way I go, then at least it wasn’t painful.

“-fy, -fy, -fy, -fy~” A low, bassy echo dances across my ears, still feeling the rush of the air whisking past as I can still sense myself falling.

“-ify, -ify, -ify, -ify~” again the low, bassy echo streams past my ears, competing for attention with the sound of the air rushing just as strongly as I still fall, longer than I expected to fall.

But then, the rushing air suddenly stops and everything goes quiet and dark.

A loud, deep, guttural voice of something almost ethereal and slightly muffled, rings out, seemingly from inside my own head.

“REVIVIFY!”

Every day I sleep for 8 hours, I work for 8 hours, and I meditate for 8 hours. Of the 8 hours I sleep, I lucid dream for 5 of them. Of the 8 hours I work, my mind palace is automated as I work. Of the 8 hours I meditate, I am constantly learning, exploring, and expanding my mind palace.

Most see the mind palace as a memorization trick of some sort. Create a palace and each door holds information on a subject to remember. Door 1 is information of your parents, door 2 is your siblings, door 3 is your job, until you can’t think of more doors to make. I’ve gone above and beyond memorization.

Through meditation I’ve taught myself how to play every instrument, learn every language, read every book, and so much more. My mind palace through meditation allows me to do anything I can put my mind to. If I want to visit the top of Mount Everest, I meditate. If I want to read the new book on discovered frog species, I meditate. If I want to enjoy some tv and relax in a sauna, I meditate. A form of astral projection almost, but all still within my mind.

My meditation palace works more like the internet than anything else. If I want more information on a subject, I can feel the palace absorbing the information almost out of thin air. That’s how quick it feels. In reality, or metaphysically, however one would interpret this other-worldly phenomenon, I still need to experience myself going to whatever library in whatever part of the world and picking up whatever book and reading through every page normally. 8 hours out there, is a week in here, and I’ve been doing this since I was 6.

I work as a detective. The vast amounts of knowledge and logical reasoning makes being a correspondent the most logical choice to put my capabilities to good use. Steering the police in the right direction when they aren’t looking between the lines, figuring out the culprit before leaving the investigation room, it all comes natural for me as my mind palace continues automatically as I use my critical thinking skills.

Today, something weird happened. I walked into the room under investigation and… my mind was racing too fast for itself. It felt like an explosion. It was only a few seconds, but that simply doesn’t happen to me. I continued as normal and everything went along as it normally would, but my mind was stuck on that sudden explosion.

Tonight I went through my normal meditation for 8 hours. After 35 hours and 17 minutes, while reading up on the newly discovered frogs, I was stunned by the sudden loud noise of a popper and dropped the book in the process. I instantly knew something was wrong. I made it my personal mission to check through every conceivable crevice of my mind palace. But there was nothing to be found.

The next day, I went to work as I normally do, everything very routine as it has been for the last 6 years. I was somehow 10 minutes late. I went back over my routine. 7:00 wake up and shower, 7:20 breakfast, 7:50 dress. 8:00 leave, arrive by 8:30. I recalled the traffic I went by to get here. The same car that takes the same route as me halfway was in front of me again, as per usual. The old woman enters the coffee shop at 8:23 just the same as today. Yet somehow I still lost 10 minutes. It didn’t make sense. The thought of losing 10 minutes would bug me for the rest of the day but I still had a job to do.

And that job was further hindered by 3 more instances of my mind thinking too fast for itself. Each taking about 10 seconds each. Not anything magnanimous in the sense of time but the occurrences are becoming more frequent, and I believe becoming longer. I was starting to worry.

I made it back home and went into meditation again. 27 hours 14 minutes, I was trying to relax with a dip in the hot tub while some classical music played. Two loud poppers goes off one right after the other. Something still isn’t right. 79 hours 28 minutes, still in search of the cause of these irritations, a firecracker goes off at my feet. I immediately hop away from the firecracker as the tip of my index finger and thumb on my right hand both tingle at the same time. 154 hours 13 minutes, a bullet whizzes past my cheek that I couldn’t see coming. Now I’m bleeding, in my mind palace. I must be going crazy or something, I control everything in here. What in the world is going on. The same hand that my fingers had tingled, now is covered in residue. I sniff the residue. Gunpowder.

I didn’t sleep well. Lucid dreams usually allow me to take control and do things much like my meditation palace does, but tonight, my dreams decided to push back. Dreams turned into nightmares, with no way of escape until they decided it was over. I was powerless. Finally cornered with no where to go, I accepted my fate and knelt on the ground with my arms wide open. A bullet grazed my cheek just the same as before. I woke up. 4:04 A.M.

Nothing else mattered now. I needed to figure out the problem. I went back to meditating. 31 hours, the palace entrance was blown up. 70hours, the palace decorum went from lavish to gaudy. 176 hours, rooms started disappearing. 298 hours, a room filled with explosives knocked me to the ground as I entered. 456 hours, a door I didn’t make appeared out of nowhere, I opened it only to have an army worth of arrows to be shot my direction, closing the door worked. 587 hours, dinosaurs started rampaging through the palace. 734 hours, men with flamethrowers started searching for me. 909 hours, termites started eating through portions of the walls and doors. 1001 hours, giant frogs poured in from everywhere. 1120 hours, the entirety of the palace was vigorously shaking. Everything was falling apart. I stumbled into a full body mirror and took a look at myself. My face smiled creepily back at me. Then small pieces of my body were cracking and exploding away. Then my whole body exploded as the full body mirror shattered into a million pieces.

I was told later that my partner found me in my living room in perfect meditation stance, completely unresponsive to anything and everything. I was rushed to the hospital where I was effectively in a coma for 3 months. When I recall back to all the things that had happened in my own mind palace, I realized I was the one that caused all of it to happen. I created the explosives and set them up to explode, I released the dinosaurs and frogs, I created the flamethrower men to search for only me, all of it was my own doing. I was my mind’s own worst enemy.

You’ve got mail!

A new assignment. I don’t get much say in the matter for my targets. My manager is the one that operates the business off the dark web for me. He knows that I get my job done and we both get paid. No one knows how I take out my targets, hell, I barely understand it myself. This life-style chose me, not the other way around.

Assignment: California Politician Location: New York Square (for holiday) Style: The Special Date: December 22, 6 pm. 3 days. Name: James Winrow Description: 6’4” Caucasian Male, short black hair, butt chin with mole under left eye. Of course a picture is sent along with the description.

I pack a few bags and book a plane for New York. I intend to stay there several days. Not because the target is for 3 days from now, but to not look suspicious. I’m going on holiday.

The flight was bittersweet. I got an annoying kid behind my seat. He was constantly crying and yelling the whole flight. At least until the middle of the night when he started gasping for air. I was easily woken up not being able to sleep comfortably to begin with, and I knew right away what was going on. I grabbed for my overhead bag and pulled out the spare epi. He was back to normal in just a minute. The mother who was panicking was grateful. We exchanged pleasantries and information so she can show her appreciation in the future. This is the third time that’s happened. But it got the kid to quiet down for the rest of the flight.

Finally I make it to the hotel. I could relax for a bit. The 22nd came around quick but the jet lag worked in my favor. I was wide awake at 6pm. Ready to head to New York Square and search for tall and handsome. He wasn’t hard to find. He was surrounded by regular people and security all causing a minor commotion but nothing too grandiose.

But then, another message from Mr. Manager. “Reservation at Carmine’s for 7pm” Nothing new, Mr. Manager always has my back and things don’t go smoothly right from the start. James and his wife must be going to Carmine’s for dinner. Might as well have a good dinner on my own holiday. I was sat with a direct view of James. I stared and stared. Eventually, it happened again. The wall slammed into James so suddenly it didn’t even register he was instantly dead. Totally unexplainable, it’s not like some drunk driver drove through the wall, it simply exploded and crushed only him. The wife, other guests, staff, no one else was hurt.

No one was allowed to leave. I didn’t expect it to be such a massive impact, then again I still don’t understand how it all works myself. I was checked out by EMTs and questioned by police. I locked eyes with a man wearing a grey suit. Not police but had the authority of one. I heard him say something about me when I was finally allowed to leave.

You’ve got mail!

Assignment: Cartel Mobster Location: Florida Miami Beach Style: Accident Date: July 15, 2pm. Tomorrow Name: Bill Asher Description: 5’7” Caucasian Male, bald, scar across nose, jewelry usually, tattoo on right fist says “Ally” across the nuckles. No picture, but the description should be plenty.

I would have preferred a plane but sometimes driving is simply how you have to do things. On the way there another incident occurred. I was gasing up at a station and decided to go inside for a drink. I wasn’t thinking too hard just running a monotonous kind of errand so to speak. Just before getting out of the car the lights inside went dark. There was only one other car there so it had to be the person working there. I walked inside and in the darkness I could see an elderly man having a seizure right in front of the register. I honestly couldn’t be bothered. I picked up a drink from the cooler, pressed the silent alarm behind the counter that every station has, and just went on my way.

I was tired after a several hour drive, but I knew the main part of the job was done. Odd to think about given this is a hitman job, the driving was the hard part. It didn’t take me long to scour the beach for the short bald man. He had a full crew with him. I’d have to keep my distance, but there was a lot to do at and near the beach, all I had to do was be able to see him. Or maybe it’s within ear shot, or just in the vicinity, honestly hard to say. But I just kept an eye on him and his crew.

Eventually they decided to go to some clubs, it was obvious they were getting high and doing all sorts. I kept my cool and didn’t stand out as best I could. What I wasn’t expecting was that Bill and his whole damn crew would keel over all at once. Some kind of electric shock from a nearby base amp shot out towards the crew and struck all of them at once. Live together, die together was all I could think.

Once again, people weren’t allowed to leave. What do you know, Mr. Grey Suit locked eyes with me just as he did before. I could tell he recognized me, I just had to hope he didn’t know where. It had been several months so what are the odds he remembers. A lot more questioning and rummaging through property as a person of interest wasn’t that great. But eventually I was let go.

In my jacket was an envelope. I opened it in the car. “From: Mr. M” I opened up the envelope and inside was 20k in cash. I might need a new manager.