DESCRIPTION
Second part of the story that continues the story of our good friend Legault. if you havent read the first one yet, please do before reading this one, otherwise you might be a bit bewildered. Once again, I did it late at night, so it once again might not be my best work. [1,356 words]
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
I enjoy playing waterpolo(not marco polo,idiots), writing, drawing, snowboarding, and designing games on the computer. I listen to metal music, such as In Flames, Seether, Staind, Soilwork, Cold, Static x, Sum41, Chevelle, Tool, and Ill nino. [October 2005]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1) Memorize (Short Stories) A man who works for a german weapons facility is told to find weapon blueprints from a factory in Russia. I did this at ten o'clock at night, so it might not be my best. part 1 [824 words]
Memorize Pt. 2 Griffin Lance Pool
Legault gazed into the sky, deeply pondering his dark thoughts. What happened in his past that had made him forget so much? The only thing he ever had to believe was what the company told him about his past, along with the bits and pieces of certain things that reminded him of a fragment, which he rarely came across. For all he knew, he could be brainwashed by these people just for their own benefit. To hide him from the truth. To corrupt him…
He was now standing outside the German weapon industry. He had finished the job, returned, gotten his pay, and was awaiting the next task to challenge him. As he waited throughout the days, he began to wonder about his past more intensely than usual. All because of that last mission he was assigned, something made him realize that he might not have been told the truth. He felt the scar across his bicep from the glass that had pierced his skin. It didn’t feel like anything he had felt before, but, he had to have felt it before. He had to have felt it in his childhood, when he broke a window with his fist and the result ended in a small fragment of glass penetrating the skin below his eye. Why didn’t the two scars feel the same? He felt along under his left eye. The scar was rugged, it almost bulged out of his face. The scar on his arm was smooth. At first he had thought maybe the scar under his eye went deeper, but if it had gone any deeper it would have cut into his inner skull and killed him. So why did they feel so different?
Maybe he was just paranoid. He quickly shoved his hand into his pocket, as if nothing was wrong. A small piece of paper left in his trench coat pocket from a few days ago he just noticed was still in there. He swiftly took it out and flipped it open, then skimmed the note with his yellow green eyes in a quick motion
“New mission assigned. Arrive at the headquarters a seven sharp on Thursday to get more information
-Boss”
…He looked at his watch. Quarter till. He slowly turned around and ambled into the German headquarters.
“Your next few days will be spent in the engineering room where the weapons are built, helping the engineers in anyways possible. Whatever they ask, you do.”
“As you wish, Krieg.”
Krieg was the head man of the organization, the one who took Legault in and made him his own. Legault was his work slave. His machine. His property.
And so the next few days Legault spent his time in the invention work room, nearly boring himself to death as the engineers lazily used him to get objects out of their reach and to get to places they couldn’t fit into.
Until one fateful day:
“Legault, I need you to go down to the cells and get a bowie knife for me. I think its against the back wall”
“…Right. Whatever.”
Legault stumbled down the stairs into the dark dank depths below the headquarters. Along the back wall was a few barrels of whiskey, along with an assortment of knives, trench coats and other useless storage supplies. He moseyed over to the back wall where he found the collection of cutlery. After he had found a relatively long knife, he turned around and started back up the stairs. Unfortunately, as he blankly walked, he was oblivious to his surroundings and was caught off guard after tripping over a few rocks along the ground. Flipping the knife along with him as he fell, it stuck up from the ground and pierced through his shoulder. He shrieked, and fell to the gravel in the darkness with the knife still stuck into him. His vision started to blur, as he laid there motionless and silent. The darkness closed in on him, it went silent, and Legault turned over on his back unconscious.
* * *
He awoke with a startle. At first, he had forgotten where he was, then it dawned on him. Struggling with his one arm and keeping the other one out of pain, he stood up. Noticing the knife was still stuck in his shoulder, he pulled it out, clenching his fists as the pain seared within him.
Then he noticed something. He had felt this pain before. Nine years ago, when he got stabbed in the eye. He never punched a window. He never even broke one. It wasn’t glass that had struck him in the eye, it was a knife. A slash. A swipe at his face.
It all came back to him. He remembered it all. The organization had brainwashed him. The whole past they told him about, all lies. Nothing was true. He was being used. And he was sick of it. His dad didn’t die from a mission, Krieg killed him. His father had refused to do the mission, because it involved taking another mans life. Furious, Krieg killed Legault’s father, and went to Legault’s house, planning on killing his mother to make sure she wouldn’t find out what really happened to him. Legault wanted to keep Krieg from doing so, so he got in Krieg’s way. Krieg, who just got even more infuriated with him, took a swipe at Legault, and threw him unconscious. After Krieg had killed Legault’s mother, he took Legault and brought him back to the headquarters for a memory erasing. Legault, unbeknownst to what happened to him, became the organization’s puppet.
Legault screamed in horror. He had been betrayed, stolen from, lied to, and forced against his free will, all because he trusted somebody. He couldn’t believe it. Why didn’t he remember sooner? Why had he not have thought of that? Infuriated, he sprinted up the stairs to the main headquarters where Krieg was hiding.
“Liar!!!” he screamed. “I fucking hate you!!! You lied, you stole, you murdered my parents, you betrayed me! What the hell is wrong with you?!?!”
“Imbecile. You finally figured out what the hell happened to your parents. That’s right, I killed them. Your father was a damn fool to not accept that mission. I guess that runs in the family. You were just as naïve and usable as they both were. So I killed them, and used you. I don’t have a single regret.
“I’ll kill you, Krieg. If I have to do it myself, I will,” and with that, Legault sprung at Krieg, holding his switchblade in his hand.
Krieg was fast to act, he pulled out a pistol and started pulling the trigger, firing bullet after bullet at Legault. Legault swiftly dodged the bullets until he was a few feet away from Krieg. Knife poised, he jumped in the air, right as Krieg fired a bullet. The bullet shot through the air and penetrated Legault’s left arm. Legault fired backwards and slammed onto the ground, where his bloody left arm laid there. He no longer had control over it. It was just a lifeless limb now, bloody and wounded horribly. Hoisting himself up from the shot, he threw the knife at Krieg, sticking it into his leg. Krieg yelled with anger and dropped his gun. Legault frantically searched through his pockets for a match.
“Come on, come on, where is it?!?!?!” he yelled. Then he found it. Finding a barrel of gunpowder in the room, he quickly threw the match down and ran. Second before after he sprinted out the back door the fire hit the gunpowder and exploded, setting off chain reactions which destroyed the factory.
Legault briefly stood up and wiped off the dirt on his coat. “well, surviving two exploding factories in one week isn’t so bad,” he said to himself.
The second man, who was watching along the whole time on the hill, disappeared through the trees.
Legault looked up into the starry sky, pondering his thoughts. Where he would go next, he didn’t know, but all he cared about right now was that it was over, and he was relieved it was.
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