Clementia Exitus

Joined
Jul 9, 2004
Messages
946
Reaction score
2
Clementia Exitus is a rewrite I'm doing of Gordon's Dead, only with my own characters. If you haven't read Gordon's Dead, then, it's a story that explores the psychological aspects of the G-Man, and the deterioration of sanity due to stress and torture. Ultimately, yes, Gordon does die. I broke the main rule of writing, and I killed the main character. Clementia Exitus has roughly the same storyline, but close to two years have passed since I started writing Gordon's Dead. Therefore, this rewrite will have a more fluid, professional (if I say so, myself) style. Also, I've noticed I had some plot holes and inconsistancies in Gordon's Dead that people might not have realised, but I did. Clementia Exitus won't have them. I've spent a few weeks alone designing a background story for C. Reinholts (or just Reinholts), and another week designing the relationship between Reinholts and Richard Bradshaw. Overall, I'm pleased with this opening chapter, and I will be releasing the further chapters at a faster pace than was done with White and Gordon's Dead (Gordon's Dead was abysmal. I kept getting sidetracked, distracted, and a severe case of writer's block. Not this time!).

***

Chapter One
Reinholts



Richard Bradshaw, age 36, walked down the freshly paved sidewalk of 7th Avenue West. He was in a good mood because today, after nine and a half months of unemployment, he was getting a new job. He was finally getting his life back on track. Because of this, Richard felt that nothing could bring him down. Humming a tune to himself, Richard took a step off the curb of the sidewalk, to cross the street. As soon as his foot made contact with the graying asphalt, he disappeared into thin air.

After feeling an intense pulling sensation in his lower gut, Richard closed his eyes instinctively. As soon as he became aware that the city’s ambience had died out completely, Richard opened his eyes again. He saw nothing, but he wasn’t blind. Richard could see his body, but his entire surroundings, or rather lack of surroundings, were pure black, and an unsettling silence filled his ears. Richard couldn’t feel the ground. It didn’t feel like he was floating, he just didn’t feel anything at all. No gravity, no ground, nothing. Richard couldn’t even breathe. It was as if everything had completely gone away, or like time had stopped. But time itself hadn't stopped. Richard tried to call out, but it seemed as if he hadn’t even said anything. No sound escaped his throat, no echo reverberated. Richard didn’t even feel his mouth move.

‘Hello, Mr. Bradshaw. We finally meet face-to-face.’ A cool-as-steel voice drifted through the empty space into Richard’s ears. Before he even had a chance to question where the voice had came from, a figure faded into few, not even five meters away. A light that seemed to come from nowhere, but everywhere at the same time, illuminated the human. It was quite obviously a man, in his mid-to-late fifties, with a gaunt, clean-shaven face, and dark, gray eyes. The eyes caught Richard’s attention the most. They seemed disinterested, even dead. Although the man was, without a doubt, looking at Richard, the eyes seemed to be inattentive, and not paying attention to any physical object. Richard shuddered.

‘Mr. Bradshaw, do you know who I am?’ Through the cold voice, the emotionless face, and those dead, staring eyes, Richard could detect a faint bemusement. Instead of attempting to use his voice again, he only shook his head. Richard had never seen this man in his life. He was sure of that; he would have remembered those eyes. Even so, out of habit, Richard found himself searching his memory for a name. Of course, nothing came to mind.

The man seemed to be expecting this answer, because he let out a knowing smirk. ‘No, Mr. Bradshaw, you wouldn’t know me. You wouldn’t know me at all. Oh, but I know you, Mr. Bradshaw. I know all about you.’ The smirk returned to his face. ‘You can speak again.’

‘Why am I here? What do you want from me?’ Richard’s bewilderment was clearly evident in his voice. For the first time, the man’s eyes showed emotion. The gray eyes flashed alive, full of anger, for a split second. The man took a sharp, quick breath. A moment later, and the eyes were dead again; the breath had been let out. The man had recomposed himself.

‘Mr. Bradshaw, you are here because, after all of these years, I have returned. I cannot take back what you took from me, but I can take something in return. I can get revenge.’ The unnamed man hissed the last word, and his brows furrowed. All the while, however, he retained a disturbing air of sanity. It was Richard who was beginning to doubt his own sanity.

‘What do you mean? What did I take from you?’ Nothing the man had said to Richard had made any sense.

The man gave Richard a tight-lipped smile. ‘You took from me the one thing I had to keep me going; you took from me the proudest part of my life. You made me suffer, after all those years of working so hard. Could I let that go, Mr. Bradshaw? No, no I couldn’t. What kind of man would I be, if I were to just walk away? I wouldn’t be a very strong man. Weak people give up; weak people surrender. Only the strong retaliate. I am a strong man, Mr. Bradshaw.

‘I’m sure you’re still wondering who I am. Well, Mr. Bradshaw, Richard, you will find out my name in due time. But why don’t I at least clue you in on who I am, as a person? Yes, I believe that’s a fair trade. Anyways, it’s not like you’ll be going anywhere.’ The man softly chuckled, and narrowed his eyes at Richard.

‘You see, Mr. Bradshaw, I have brought you here because I have recently come into contact with some certain…abilities. I have received some powers, Mr. Bradshaw. One of these powers, these abilities, allows me to come here. It allowed me to bring you here.’

‘Where is here?’

‘Yes, Mr. Bradshaw. Of course you would ask that. Of course you would have noticed that I have not yet gotten into where here is. Of course you would have noticed that I had avoided that topic. But since you ask, Mr. Bradshaw, of course I will tell you.

‘Mr. Bradshaw, where we are is beyond your comprehension of a place. I have brought you to an undeveloped dimension, a dimension lacking the full properties of a dimension. The closest that I can compare it to would be our universe, our dimension, before the Big Bang.’

‘So this is a universe that hasn’t expanded?’

‘No, Mr. Bradshaw,’ the man allowed a small, patronizing chuckle before continuing. ‘This is a completely void universe, in a completely empty dimension. Every subatomic atom, every piece of potential matter, is reading your mind faster than you can think. You see, every particle in this universe needs a job. But, Mr. Bradshaw, they don’t have a job, do they? So, as soon as a particle has an opportunity at a job, as soon as a particle has a chance at a purpose, it takes it. Almost like you, isn’t it, Mr. Bradshaw? Already, in the mere five minutes that you’ve been here, that we’ve been talking, trillions of particles have combined to form billions of combinations of objects, only to be destroyed a mere fraction of a millisecond later. Why, Mr. Bradshaw? This is because you do not hold the images in your mind completely. You do not hold them in your mind long enough. The objects created are fragmented; they are incomplete. They are simultaneously destroyed as they are created.’

The man looked to his left, where a planet the size of a softball appeared.

‘You see what I mean, Mr. Bradshaw? I have just created an entire civilization, complete with a food chain, and a dominant species with knowledge of space travel. This species has a religion, Mr. Bradshaw. They worship me.’

He waved his hand, and the planet imploded.

‘Now, as soon as they were about to launch their first manned ship to embark on a three-thousand year long quest, in hopes to discover other intelligent life, they are dead. I killed them, Mr. Bradshaw, but it wasn’t important, was it? I created them; so therefore, I hold the rights to kill them if I so desire. For that species, on that planet, however, their civilization had lasted several million years. Time creates interesting paradoxes in an undeveloped universe, doesn’t it, Mr. Bradshaw? They had whole libraries on documents of their evolution, beginning with the lowly arthropods that breathed through their own skin.’

Richard glanced nervously around. ‘I still don’t understand why you’ve brought me here, or who you are.’

The man slowly smiled, which turned into a grotesque grin. ‘Oh, Mr. Bradshaw, I appear to have left out some pertinent information, haven’t I? Well, I will just have to correct that error. You understand, of course, where we are. You don’t know why, though. You see, Mr. Bradshaw, after receiving my abilities, I discovered a war-like, alien race. I advanced this race millions of years ahead of their intended path, and brought them into the space-age. I have complete control over them, Mr. Bradshaw, and I intend to use that control to my greatest advantage. I intend to destroy the Earth.’

‘Why?’

‘That is not for you to worry about, Mr. Bradshaw. You only have one thing to worry about, and that’s staying alive. Surely you will do anything you can to stay alive. So I have a favor to ask of you, Mr. Bradshaw. Will you pass on a little message for me? Will you tell the people of Earth of their imminent doom? Will you make them aware of the impending apocalypse? Will you cooperate, Mr. Bradshaw?’

Horrified, Richard attempted to close his eyes. After taking several deep breathes, he was able to reply. It was just a whisper, but the man understood it. ‘No.’

The nameless man smiled, and chuckled again. “Well, Mr. Bradshaw, if you are unwilling to follow orders, it seems that I will have to pass on this message to the people myself, won’t I?’ The chuckle turned into a laugh.

Richard opened his eyes again, to look at the man, and found himself staring into the face of his own body. The body he was watching, his body, melted away, leaving Richard in what he could only assume was also his body.

‘Mr. Bradshaw, I’ve created a new you. I have created a you over which I have control. I have the power to manipulate you now, Mr. Bradshaw. I have merged my spirit with yours, and now we share the same body.’

‘You can’t do thi-‘ Richard was silenced by the man’s voice, interrupting him.

‘Yes I can, Mr. Bradshaw. I can, and I did. If you continue to refuse to cooperate, I can just take complete control, and leave you sitting in the back of your mind. I can just leave you watching through your eyes, unable to do anything.’

Richard could tell that the man wasn’t lying. He knew that his only choice was to do as the man told him to, or else he would be trapped in some dark corner of his mind.

‘Yes, Mr. Bradshaw. That’s the spirit. Now, let’s go, Mr. Bradshaw. Let’s spread the word to the people of their coming doom.

Seamlessly, the blackness surrounding Richard turned into the New York streets, and he was left standing in the exact same position that he had been in before the man had taken him. He was midway on the road, and midway on the sidewalk. Richard briefly wondered if time had stopped.

<No, Mr. Bradshaw, time didn’t stop. As I said before, an undeveloped universe creates interesting warps in time. You really should listen, Mr. Bradshaw.>

Straining, Richard attempted to reply. <Who are you? What’s your name?>

The man was silent for several seconds, and then replied, with one word. A last name. <Reinholts.>

Richard crossed the street in silence.
 
Very nice. I like the rewrite a good bit more from what I read in Gordan's Dead. Like where it's going so far.
 
Glad you guys like it. I'm pleased with the way this is turning out. Chapter two should be out in a few days.
 
Chapter Two: Apocalypse

Okay, so I was off by a few days, but it's chapter two!

***

Chapter Two
Apocalypse



Reinholts. The name swam through Richard’s head. He didn’t even recognize the name. Richard had no association with this man, Reinholts, at all. Yet, here he was, walking down the streets of New York City, sharing a body with him.

<Oh, Mr. Bradshaw, you do too have association with me. Our paths crossed years ago.> Reinholts’ voice echoed through Richard’s head.

<So I’m sharing a mind with you, too.> No privacy. No thought was unheard by Reinholts.

<Try not to look at it that way. Pretend that I’m a little bird sitting on your shoulder, which you talk to.>

Richard forgot to try and think his reply, and spoke aloud. ‘How are you like a bird?’

‘Oh, so you’d rather speak out loud? That’s fine. I’m not a bird. I’m your captor.’ Reinholts also used Richard’s voice, Richard’s mouth. A passing man, possibly on his way to work, judging from his suit and tie, glanced over at Richard. ‘Mr. Bradshaw, look! We have an audience. Let’s go warn him about the invasion, shall we?’

<No, I won’t do this. This isn’t happening.> Richard hoped the man would leave.

Reinholts insisted, speaking in a cheerful voice. ‘Alright then, I’ll do it.’ Richard felt his body lock up momentarily, and then all feeling left him. The next thing Richard knew, he was walking towards the man, only he wasn’t controlling his body; Reinholts was. He had taken control.

<Very good, Mr. Bradshaw. You’re learning.> Reinholts reached the man. The man tried to look away, but Reinholts side-stepped in front of him.

‘Hi there.’ Reinholts grinned widely.

‘Err, hello.’ The man looked uncomfortable.

‘What’s your name? I’m Richard.’

‘I’m, err, Douglas.’

‘Douglas? Well, good morning, Douglas. Isn’t it a nice day to die?’

‘Die? Yes, I suppose so. Err, when you say ‘die’, what are you inferring?’

‘Oh, you know. The apocalypse, the imminent death of every human on earth. You’ll all be dying this week, you know.’

‘Really? Is there any way to, um, protect ourselves, then?’

‘No, you’ll all be killed. Or turned into slaves to mold this planet to fit the needs of the Zoc’t’vicians. If you’re real lucky you might survive an extra two or three weeks before collapsing and ultimately dying of exhaustion. Torture’s a possibility too, or dissection. Who knows? Either way, you’ll be dead.’

‘Right, then. Well, I have to go to work now. Nice chatting with you, bye.’ Without saying anything else, the man turned and tried to steadily walk away. His walk turned into a jog, and the man’s briefcase came unlatched. He didn’t even stop to pick up the papers that scattered out, the man just kept jogging away.

<That went well, don’t you think, Richard? I think I can call you Richard, don’t you? After all, sharing a body is quite intimate, and we should be on a more personal level with each other.>

<A personal level? Then what’s your first name?>

<You can call me C. Reinholts, if you so desire.>

<C?>

<That man will probably tell all of his friends about the lunatic he met who told him about humanity’s impending death.>

<I hate you.>

<Richard, Mr. Bradshaw, Dr. Bradshaw…You don’t even know me. How can you hate me?>

<I’d like to ask the same to you.>

<But, Richard, we’ve been through this, I know you better than you know yourself. Now, think about it. You’re the one who appears to be doing all this. You’ll be arrested soon, and then the real fun will begin.>

<What are you talking about?>

<Absolutely nothing. But I must say, I do enjoy the fact that I can read your mind, while you can’t read mine.> With that, Reinholts continued to walk down the street. He stopped at the loose sheets of paper that the man had lost from his briefcase. Reinholts bent down, and picked a sheet up. It was a resume.

<Look at this, Richard, the man was heading towards Edison University, the same university you were applying for…Well, well, well. The same teaching position you wanted. Seems like you and this man have quite a bit in common. Quite a bit in common, indeed.>

<Just shut up.>

In response, Reinholts chuckled, and resumed walking. Soon, he had reached Edison University. Reinholts entered the office, and walked straight to the reception desk. A woman in her mid-twenties sat behind the desk.

‘Hi, welcome to Edison University. What do you need?’ The woman wore a fixed smile on her face, stretched to unnatural proportions.

‘Well, hot stuff, first you can give me your number. We’ll trade.’ Reinholts leaned close to the receptionist and winked.

‘Eugh, you’re like, what, 40? Forget it. What do you want, creep?’

‘Very well, let’s talk business. You’re going to die. You, along with the rest of this pitiful mish-mash you call a society, will all be dead in a week.’ Reinholts stared straight into the woman’s eyes, without wavering.

‘Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Please leave or I’ll be forced to call the cops.’ The receptionist looked more than slightly disturbed by Reinholts.

‘Oh, you’ll call the cops, will you? What have I done wrong? Told the TRUTH?’ Reinholts roared the last word, and several people out on the streets looked through the door to see what was going on.

<Please, please just turn and walk away. Don’t do this to me. I need this job. Please.> Richard’s mind was reeling. He didn’t know what else to do besides plead.

<Oh, don’t worry, Richard. It will get worse than this. It will get much worse. This is only the beginning of your new, personal hell on earth. Soon, you’ll be wishing you were dead. Soon, you’ll look back on today and marvel that you had gotten this upset, this emotional, over a meaningless job. Oh yes, you’ll beg for me to kill you. But I won’t. And do you know why, Richard? Do you know why, Mr. Bradshaw?>

<You’ll do it because you want me to hate myself, my life, and this world.>

<Excellent guess, Richard. I must say, you were close. You see, I want you to relish dying. While the rest of humanity is being slaughtered, I want you to watch them, and envy the fact that for each and every one of them, it’s over. They don’t have to suffer anymore. But not you, Mr. Bradshaw. You will. You will watch as every human is crushed beneath the mighty Zoc’t’vician race. That, Richard, is why I won’t kill you.>

‘Go ahead, babe, call the police. I dare you. Do it. Call 911. You won’t do it. I know you won’t do it. Here, let me do it for you.’ Reinholts reached forward and grabbed the phone. He dialed 911, and handed the receiver back to the woman, who took it, and slowly raised the phone to her ear.

‘Hello, 911? My name’s Rachel Ockham. I’m calling to report a…’ The receptionist’s voice seemed to fade out as Reinholts began to talk to Richard again.

<Well, Richard, it seems that you’re going to jail now. Now the real fun will begin. Will you spread the word, or shall I do the honors once again?>

<Fine. I’ll help you.> Richard could almost feel Reinholts’ surprise. Almost. Or maybe he had imagined it.

<Yes, Richard, you most certainly imagined it. Before you regain control, I hope you realize that I will still be watching, and if you stop for even just one second; if I feel one weak thought, you will lose your freedom again. Do you understand me?

<Alright, yes. I understand you. Let me have control of my body again.> Almost instantaneously, Richard felt sensation throughout his body again, as his mind reconnected with the nerves. It was exhilarating, after having absolutely no feeling, just existing. Richard flexed his fingers, and blinked several times, savoring the ability to use muscles again. While Richard was doing all of this, the woman, Rachel Ockham, was on the phone, keeping a close eye on Richard.

This could be his chance. Maybe Richard could run, and Reinholts wouldn’t be able to react soon enough. Maybe.

<That’s it, Richard. I gave you one chance, and you couldn’t follow my guidelines. One simple rule, and you violated it. I’m taking control back.>

<Wait!> Richard’s mind began to race. <I didn’t mean to think that. It was involuntary! I’m only human. I may get urges, but that doesn’t mean I have to comply to them. That’s part of being human, knowing what to listen to and what not to listen to.>

<It never ceases to humor me how you humans use the phrase, ‘Only human.’ I believe that says something about your worthiness to survive. You use your very existence as an excuse for your imperfections. I’ll let you maintain your freedom, for now, Mr. Bradshaw. But this is your last warning.>

<How are you separated from the rest of humanity? You’re human too.> Reinholts didn’t reply, and so Richard brought his attention back to the receptionist.

‘So, how about that phone number, honey?’ Richard grinned widely, and reached across the desk to stroke the girl’s hair. He was already going to be arrested as it were, so Richard saw no reason as to why he should contain himself.

The receptionist dropped the phone. ‘Get away from me, you pervert!’ She reached under the table, and to Richard’s surprise, pulled out a small black tube. Mace. Before Richard could react at all, the receptionist had sprayed half the bottle into his eyes.

Immediately, Richard dropped to the floor. No matter how much he attempted to rub the mace out of his eyes, the burning sensation remained. It seemed as though the more Richard rubbed, the worse his eyes burned.

<God, help me!> Without intending to, Richard was screaming for Reinholts’ help.

<No, Mr. Bradshaw, I don’t think I will. I must say, I do quite enjoy watching, no, feeling you suffer.> Richard couldn’t reply to this. He was too preoccupied with trying to clean out his eyes. Not even expecting a response, Reinholts continued. <Don’t worry, Mr. Bradshaw. Soon the authorities will arrive, and then you’ll forget all about this. Oh, yes. Then the pain will become worse than you could imagine.>

Clawing at his eyes, Richard began to scream in almost unintelligible words. ‘Run! Get away! Protect yourselves! The apocalypse is coming! You’ll all die! It’s the apocalypse!’ Richard felt himself fading, for no reason. His vision was blurring, and his body was responding sluggishly. Before everything completely faded, Richard managed to utter one last word.

‘Apocalypse.’
 
Seriously, no comments?
Well, I'm going to keep updating here anyways, I guess, since fictionpress.com ****s the formatting up with the tags as the thoughts.
 
Back
Top