Mind Slave

Id post the entire story on one post, but that would probobly have some consiquences.

Release Log
Chapter 0: Released (Page 1)
Chapter 1: Released (Page 1)
Chapter 2: Released (Page 1)
Chapter 3: Released (Page 1)
Chapter 4: Not Released
Chapter 5: Not Released

Introduction
"The heart is a symbol, a symbol of love and caring. People use the heart to show love and kindness, but is the heart an organ that controls your deepest emotions? The emotions that let you dream, love, hate, ect? No. The heart is a pump, it sends blood throughout your body. It is the BRAIN that is important. It is what happens to the brain that causes you to react to certain events. Your personality, is based off your experiences, your experiences are your brains experiences, but your brain is not your personality. Your brain controls you, or you control your brain, that depends on one key factor. What is that factor? I don't know. You see, this is not my philosophy, it is the philosophy of someone your parents probably told you stories about so you'd behave. Do you know who I am talking about?" Explained a strongly built man of about 70 or so.
"Yes grandpa, they said hes going to get me in my sleep if I don't behave." Replied a child of about twelve. The two were sitting on a bench in front of an ice cream shop, of course, eating ice cream. The grandpa had his head shaved and was wearing farming boots, blue jeans, and a slightly dirtied white T-shirt. The child had blond hair that used to be perfect and combed but is now a mess, plausibly do to farming. He was virtually wearing the same clothes his grandfather was. "Do you want to hear a story?" asked the grandpa.

"What story grandpa?"

"Come on, I'll tell you at home." With that said the two tossed what was left of their ice cream into a nearby garbage can and entered the grandpa's old 2010 Hybrid Truck. which was sitting near the shop. After a 15 minute silent drive to an old, but obviously prosperous, farm. The grandpa parked in a barn and the two got out of the truck to sit on a bench over looking the 25 acres of crops. The child broke the silence, "So what about the story?" Breaking from his enchanted look out into the sunrise (it was about 7:30 AM), The grandfather replied,"The story is about me and a friend of mine."

"One of your poker buddies?"

"Ha ha. No, we talked about him earlier, your parents in all likelihood call him The Lord of Insanity or Chaos, I don't remember which. But I will never forget what I called him."

"But-"

"Hush now, let me finish the story and then you can ask all the questions you want." The child held his tongue but he had a confused look, and along with that confusion was a small bit of fear. Ignoring the look the grandfather started the story. "The story starts in my hometown of New York City..."

The Bar
"Keep your head down!" Yelled a police officer as he pushed a reviving citizen back down behind a bar. Bullets were flying above them hitting the many beverages that were recently shelved on the wall. A second female officer was at the edge of the bar firing her 9mm pistol at a barely visable target. When the citizen regained his thought he remembered the events that had just taken place: Two police officers were arresting a drunk outside the bar when bullets started coming from the werehouse across the streat. Along with the drunk the two cops ducked behind thier car, but when a bullet went through the car and hit the drunk in the neck, they chose to make a break for the bar. It was 2 AM so the bar was closed, but the doors were unlocked. When the two officers made it behind the counter, they noticed the bartender cowering in fear. The male officer tried to convince the citizen to leave through the back door while he and his partner kept the attackers occupied. The female officer was yelling into her radio for every available unit for back up. Just then the police car exploded, shaking the building. A wine bottle that was on the shelf fell and hit the bartender on the top of his head, knocking him unconcious...

A slug hit a vodka bottle on the shelf. The liquids burst down splashing the bartender, and he stood up. Before being pulled down by the male cop, the bartender noticed that there were three tables flipped over, and there was a gunner behind each table. The male officer easily brought the bartender back down behind cover only to see that he had two bullet holes in his forehead and one in his shoulder. The police officer was about to alert his partner when he noticed the shooting had stopped. He looked over at his partner to see her lying on her back, face up, throat slit wide open. Then he noticed the exeptionally large, bald, african american wearing an unusual military uniform. There was no helmet, and instead of grass/dirt camo it was snow camo. The large man jumped at the officer with a bleeding cleaver in his left hand. Before the man could connect the steel with the officer, the officer grabbed a rum bottle on a shelf in the bar and wacked it upon the large mans head, knocking him unconcious. The officer heard footsteps coming in his direction. He assumed it was the gunners coming to see what had happened to thier comrad. The officer quickly pulled out his 9mm and the moment one of the gunners came around the edge of the bar he shot him dead in the skull. TWO of thier comrads dead now, the last two gunners made a swift retreat. Figuring that they were gone now the officer stood up and noticed three things: One, the gunner he killed was wearing the same uniform as the large man. Two, the back door was open, probobly how the man snuck up on his partner. Three, his back-up wasnt there. After cuffing the large man to the bar, he started talking in his radio. "Is anyone there?" (The officer is still miffed from the gun fight)

"h-hello?" said a returning voice. It sounded weak and timid, must be a new recruit.

"Who is this?"

"M-my name is-" the returning voice didn't finish, after 'is' all the officer heard was the dropping of the radio and some choking sounds. This went on for five seconds. What ensued was a snap, and someone picking up the radio.

"Hello officer." Said a new voice. It sounded dark, relaxed, intelligent, and uncaring, simply an evil voice. " I suggest you look down at your captive."

Ignoring his urge to ask questions, the officer looked down at the large man. He noticed a very small metal box on the mans belt with numbers counting down.

Wait, thought the officer, numbers counting backwards?....Shit!

The officer made a break for the back door. He was able to reach the dark ally the door led to when the bar exploded. Raging flames consumed anything it could get its greedy hands on. The officer was on the ground, a plank that blew off the bar had hit him in the back of his skull. He was able to make out a dark figure walking toward him. When it reached him, it put a hand around his neck. And then.... bliss.

Officer Kenny Wallace
"Well you passed all the tests, with a perfect score in the explosives section." Said Tom Motte, a lieutenant of the NYC PD. Tom had a good old western style mustache and sharp brown eyes. He always wore his police hat and a designer black glove on his right hand. The recruit sitting in front of him was smiling at the good news he had just received.

"Thank you sir." The recruit said as Tom glanced down at his records.

"I don't know how you didn't make the bomb squad with a score like this."

The new recruit was a robust 19 year old and about 6'2", 2 inches taller then Tom. He had no facial hair, a shaved head, and his eyes were an unusual purplish red. The reason the recruit did not make the bomb squad was simply because his ex girlfriend's father was the head. Their break up was not a pretty one, so his ex made sure to use her fathers power to waste a chunk of the recruits life by delaying his test for a month, and then failing him.

"Well congratulations." Tom continued, "You are now an officer of the NYC Police Department."

"Thank you sir!"

"Your uniform and equipment are in a bag in the front. Don't forget them."

"I wont sir!"

"Then you are dismissed, Officer Kenny Wallace"

Kenny simple got up and walked out the door with an excited expression on is face. He found the duffel bag with his uniform and equipment on a desk in the front office. The bag had his name on it, so he picked it up be the straps and rushed out the door. He was about to enter his 2010 Hybrid Truck when he spotted a newspaper salesman at the corner of his eye. Seeing as it was only five dollars for the paper and a month subscription, Kenny purchased the paper, and filled out a subscription sheet. After saying goodbye to the salesman, Kenny got in his truck. He took a quick glance down at the newspaper he had just set on the passenger seat of his truck. Through the plastic wrapping, he could make out the date: May 16, 2013. Kenny looked back up through his windshield and started the truck. He drove a seven minute drive to an apartment complex. He parked the truck in the parking lot and made his way to building E apartment 20. After he entered his small home, he dropped the duffel bag and looked at the clock on his wall. Seeing as it was 7:30 PM, Kenny decided to clean up his apartment. Putting it lightly, the small home was a mess. Even though it had just a front room, with a couch, coffee table, and TV. A Kitchen with a stove, fridge, coffee maker, a few cupboards, and a microwave. A bathroom with a shower, toilet, and sink. And a bedroom with a bed, closet, small table, and an alarm clock. There was food wrappers, dirty laundry, some tools, notebooks, books, and even a .45 Calibur Handgun laying around the apartment. It took Kenny 3 hours just to get all the trash picked up.

"Whoo!" he yelled in his room as he collapsed on the queen size bed. He set his alarm and fell asleep with one simple thought: I start tomorrow!

2 years later

Kenny was shoving a man in a KKK outfit in the back of the police car, while his new partner, Sarah Martin, was informing the department of their catch. Sarah was a pretty little thing, red hair, hazel eyes, slim figure, all the qualities male cops look for in female partners. They were at the end of the dark ally on an empty street surrounded by old abandoned houses, the perpetrator was screaming all three of their heads off.

"I know my rights!" The racist screamed as Kenny 'forgot' to push his head down when shoving him into the car.

"You have the right to remain silent." Kenny said before slamming the door in the racists face.

"You know your suppose to keep them from hitting their heads on the car when you shove them in, right? Sarah said as she put the radio on her belt and scooted into the passenger seat.

"Whats your point?" Kenny replied while getting into the drivers seat and starting the car. When Sarah did not respond, Kenny looked up at his rear view mirror to see the racist shouting something at the top of his lungs behind soundproof glass.

"I'm real happy they upgraded these junkers last year" Kenny said, failing to ignite small talk. For Sarah simply nodded in return.

When they reached the department, it was about 1:30 AM. The two placed the racist in a holding cell and were walking back to the car when Tom walked up to them.

"Are you two free?" He said immediately.

"Yes sir" Sarah replied.

"Good, there is a drunk outside the nearby bar disturbing the peace. Can you two handle it?"

"Of course." Kenny replied.

"Good. Hop to it." With that Tom turned back to his office.

"All in a days work, huh?" Kenny said to Sarah, as they left the department. Sarah simply smiled... her last smile to be exact...

The Cell
When Officer Kenny Wallace awakened, he was laying on an uncomfortable bed in what seemed to be a cell. The only light on was the cell light, so he couldn't see anything past the bars. As he got up, he noticed that his uniform was lighter.

What the hell? Kenny thought, Why the fuck am I in a prisoners uniform?!

"Hello?!" He yelled aloud.

"Yes?" replied a familiar voice.

Kenny limped toward the iron bars that divided him from the darkness. He could make out a barely visible figure on the other side of the bars.

"It looks like your still a bit messed up from that nasty blow you took to the back of your head." The figure said with its voice sounding even more familiar with every word.

"Let me out." Kenny said, ignoring the comment.

"Why should I do that?"

"Because I'll kill you if you don't." The figure seemed to find Kenny's anger amusing.

"Really?" it chuckled. "And how do you plan to do that?"

Kenny grounded his teeth while the figure turned around.

"Where are you going?! You can't leave me here!" Kenny screamed banging on the cell bars.

"Calm down, I'll be back." The figure said as it was consumed be the darkness.

Kenny stood there for fifteen minutes before collapsing to the ground. He started remembering everything that had just happened. After half an hour, he rose up and decided that he was going to find a way out of his cell.

Alright, He thought, I've thrown criminals in these places for two years. I should know SOMETHING about them.

Kenny walked around the cell looking for anything that could help him escape. He lifted up the mattress in the cell to find two things: A watch and a knife. He cut a slit in the pants of his criminal uniform and stick the blade of the knife in it, holding it at his waist. He put the mattress back on the bed and sat down to look at the watch.

Considering that the watch is accurate, it should be about 5:00 AM. It was two when Sarah and I came under fire. We were behind that counter for about thirty minutes. Sarah got killed, and then I was in there for about another thirty minutes. That made it about three when I ran outside. And when the bar exploded something hit me in the back of the head and that figure came and picked me up by the neck. After he picked me up I fell unconscious... so I've been out for about two hours... then they couldn't have dragged me TOO far... Whatever. Right now I need to escape, maybe I can use the knife to open the lock to the cell.

Kenny got up and walked to the cell door (bars). He grabbed the knife and reached his arms through the bars to grab hold of the lock. Luckily this knife is slim, He thought as he used the blade to pick the lock. He spent about ten minutes trying to get the lock open before he succeeded.

Good, now I just need to find a light switch. He thought as he stepped out into the darkness. Kenny was able to walk four steps before tripping over something. He landed face first on the stone floor, giving him an even worse headache then he had after he woke up.

What the hell was that?!

"Looks like you found a way out." Said the voice Kenny heard earlier.

With a moan, Kenny stood back up, "Who are you?"

The only reply Kenny received was a swift blow to the face, throwing him on his back. Immediately Kenny got back up and made a run in the opposite direction. He was alright for ten seconds before ramming in to a wall. As he hit the wall he felt a sharp pain hitting him in a tiny spot on his stomach.

What luck! Kenny thought as he flipped whatever gave him the sharp pain. It was the light switch! When the light turned on he turned around to see his assailant. Instantly, his face filled up with confusion.

"But-"