PlayBack

written and created by:Michael McCullough

“Send Patient 43 in, please.” the Doctor said in a voice low enough to create thunder. Patient 43, entering, echoed through the corridor to the examination chamber. ” Welcome to Draycor Asylum, 43. How are you doing this lovely evening?” The Doctor asked while staring ominously over his foggy bifocals. I am well, A bit confused; I feel like...like a hurricane rag-dolled me but I am well, I muttered only loud enough to be heard. “Do you know why you’re here, 43? Or where you are?” He asked with an ever expanding smile, one that almost tore his face in half.

I don't know why you’re calling me...43, nor what is going on? He stared at me going a shade redder with each moment.” You are in Draycor Asylum for The criminally insane. Right of the coast of Seattle.” he stated with mild frustration. What am I doing here, how...how long have I been here. I was finally losing the heavy effects of what was most likely anesthetics. The doctor stood in the darkest corner of the room as I remained strapped to the table.“43...you...HAHA! You are here for the murder of 16 American Soldiers, carrying highly confidential loads. You somehow knew about them, found them, and proceeded to murder them.” The Doctor said in an impressed tone. He sat down in the chair in the corner and I could see the shine of the over-head light glistening off his teeth. His smile was inhuman.

“43, what were you looking for, who...who told you about the shipment?” He asked while his smile still gripped like a pair channel locks. I don't remember, anything. The last memory I can refer to is, from a week ago...I was leaving work, and heading home. I tried and tried to ponder prior days, but I...I couldn't.“How is it that a simple sales rep, with no training could do such a daring feat. Send 43 to his room...perhaps he needs time to recover from the drugs.” He shouted from his dimly light corner to the over head window as his hand rested in his lap, he waved me goodbye slowly as I was pulled away.

Two men, in white uniforms and built like a brick shit house began to transport me to my room, hitting every crack in the pale, fractured floor. I could vaguely hear the men talking to one another as we rolled with haste down the narrow and dark corridor. The lights were all beginning to give, and the walls were abused...as if they were never touched up after immediate occupancy occurred. The men finally made it to my room, and the moment the shoveled my limp body off the cold steel table they left me with words of worry. “Its best you come clean, the Doctor is not a man to keep waiting.” They said as the broke out laughing becoming quieter and quieter with each second in passing.

I can only assume it is night...my cell much like all the others had no window, only the slot in the door. As the time passed I paced back and forth within the dingy confines of my room pondering, previous days and anything to help me understand what happened. As I sat in a motionless state of empty thought, I heard a voice from a crack in my wall.“You know its coming, you saw it much like I did. DIDN'T YOU? You know what must be done. HAHA!” It stated as it wandered off into psychotic snickering. My cell neighbor had a voice like a nightmare and I swear I could feel the cold of his breath like death reaching through the crevice, it was as if each syllable was a day deeper into winter.

“The Doctor knows, you know it exist. He knows you know it...hide ya tongue, wont last long, HAHAHA!” He said with a deranged peak, as if his mind completely snapped. I don't know anything, I cant remember a GODDAMN THING, WHY?! I shouted into the cold stone of the wall. I laid down staring into the emptiness of my cells ceiling, while one room over I heard the guards beating a man who couldn't stop laughing. He just laughed and yelled, You Know it exist!

I finally passed out, I guess not all the drugs were out of my system. But as I dream't, it was a crippling compilation of memories that seemed like two different people...yet they were both inevitably so, me. Who am I? What am I? My dreams showed me what I felt were the previous days to the current. I kept seeing one figure, that was a creation of every night terror I ever went through, it was a monster of pure dread...yet so alluring, like a blanket fresh out the dryer.

It stood about 9 feet tall, and had almost burnt looking skin, with an elongated body that was malnourished and yearning. The most peculiar trait however to the figure was its head or lack thereof a head, in its place was a computer monitor that said Press Play. Its Vibrant blue gaze drew me in like a moth to a flame in an abyss. I had to approach it, with each step closer it showed my more favorable memories. With the distance closing in I felt a push, a subconscious strain. I looked back up to the creature and saw me dying across its glazed screen.

I turned around and ran, only to run in place. It grabbed me and a messaged ran across its screen as it pulled its head around mine. ” You cannot run from time, why out run me?” The screen went black and I awoke to keys softly jingling to my door. I leaned up and knew I only had a creature to go off of...what am I going to do? I felt mortified like I just grabbed a 220 ground wire with bare hands. What the fuck am I going to do?

As I sat on the cold table, the men looked at me with a hauntingly sad expressions to their eyes.“I hope you can speak today, you're the 3rd patient we had to bring in.” The blonde orderly named Joseph said as his partner Damien idly kept his gaze averted.

As Joseph and Damien carted me down the unforgiving narrow passage, I couldn't help but feel...something staring at me. I looked around and then I heard it, a voice as familiar as my own. Do not worry, when the time is right I will open the flood gates of the memories you need. The voice muttered in a sincere manner. I looked up to the Orderlies and peered down to my feet at the upcoming room I was sure to home the good Doctor.

As Joseph And Damien pushed me through the double doors, the Doctor Called out to me in excitement,” 43, 43, The man of the hour...my golden boy. What have you to say today...I hope its entertaining?” I was lifted up into a standing position with only an inch or between my toes and the chill of the cold white and black tiled floor. The room looked different, or maybe I was just unable to recognize it due to the groggy anesthetics. I had a dream last night, that seemed...almost real, yet unbelievable. I made sure to speak up this time, only to see that same tearing smile mapped across his face.

He danced toward me and twirled into position placing his left arm on the right side of my head and said,” Do tell, 43. I am dying to hear what it pertains to.” He stared at me as I only used my peripherals. Each time he spoke I thought his teeth were going to rip out my jugular. I told him my dream, even gave detail to the creature so vividly it was as if it was in the room with us. After all...looking at this place...I wouldn't be shocked if it was.

The Doctor stopped in his stride as I ended my story, locked in step like a statue.“You mean to tell me...you saw it. YOU!You, just another human, saw Playback and survived.” He said terrified and flabbergasted. I...I didn't know what to think, that thing has a name and he knows of it. I asked, What is Playback? Why did it come to me? The Doctor turned swiftly and within a blink was back at my side. “43...Adrien...He chose you, he is a weapon of Death, no remorse, emotion, just the drive. He is the epitome of time.” The Doctor spoke as if him and the creature were old lost friends long forgotten.

I stared breathing into a depth deeper than fear, and had to ask,” Why did it choose me, how can I end this and go...home?” as I finished the statement, It hit me, where was home. The voice in my head returned. You are a killing machine, an angel of death...and in time I will reveal your identity. Shaken, I bobbed my head in a sad attempt to shake it off. “Something just spoke to you...didn't it, 43?” The Doctor said as he cocked his neck to the left pacing toward me. He wore that grin like a tattoo on display, I am sure The Good Doctor is not human. Just my subconscious...I don't know how I knew about the military shipment, nor how I got here. Its not even a blur, the extent of my recollection is zilch. For a moment The Doctor and I locked eyes, in a battle to gain mental control.

I didn't cave in, he finally quit and smiled his face into stitches. He closed his eyes took a breath and screamed,” Return 43 to his room...and 43 tomorrow is your last day here,Ill advise you to spend the next 18 hours thinking.” He cackled like a hyena as I was taken from the examination chamber. I could hear him all the way to my room. Yet again, Joseph and Damien looked upon me with such bitter sorrow. Upon departure of my cell Damien finally spoke,“43, he is going to kill you tomorrow if you don't give him information, he has been informed by American Government to put you down.” As he walked away and I sat there staring through the slit in my door, I felt hopeless. Am I really going to die here.“I told you...I told you he knew. HAHAHA, The Doctor is not from this realm...he knows. Hold your tongue-wont last long!” The voice sang through the crack again.

I shook off the cell over and didn't respond, I just laid down on my bed and watched the light through the door dance as people walked by trying my damndest to remember anything. How does one contact the voice in their head when it has control. I sat there for hours blankly and patiently waiting on anything. As a meal tray scratched as it slid across the floor from the slit of the grey iron door, the voice spoke as if it was a headache. I fell to my knees in a pain like 10 migraines within a singular moment. This place, Adrien, It is not what you think. It is a maze of victims, people who were meant for good but slipped.

The Doctor is not human, he is Amaymon...a Demon. He is working under a pseudo Identity with the government to extract information from us and gain power over our suffering. So I release everything to you now. You now have 6 hours to figure out a plan of escape. If Amaymon ever gets his ember like clutches on Playback or the shipment carrying his remains, the world will know a true fear. The voice the shouted in a high pitch, rendering me immobile. After a few seconds, the world went quiet. I could see my room even as it was dark. I was me, completely...I remembered everything, guilt free. I was a hit man, for a group as old as America. The Hunters, an order created by the 1st Preacher man to ever sanctify a holy ground here.

A chunk of wall had broken off the wall from repetitive hammering due to the bed slamming. I spent the first few hours, shaping it quietly into a sharpened edge. I finally got it filed down as it was sharp enough to cut skin. it would be my saving grace. The last memory that hit me was my Identity, that pushed me into a thought as I worked on planning. I was Adrien Cooper, a hunter...an assassin of the Damned. The hours passed as I sat in on my bed waiting for the orderlies.

The time finally came, that familiar jingle scraping the door put me into survival mode. I had to be smart and think with each movement so not to reveal the makeshift blade. I slowly cut my straps as they spoke to each other. I felt the under side of the bindings become fragile and quit. I couldn't reveal I was armed. As I was put into my usual position in the examination chamber, ever so cold and dim; I noticed the Doctor wasn't around. I looked into his usual corner, checked my peripherals yet he was absent. However, I felt a condemned presence watching me.

Doctor...Amaymon, why am I here? I asked in an assured tone, as if I was ready. I heard a howling laugh hum through the massive chamber, it brought a shiver to my spine. “The Prodigal son, finally awakes. Such timing, you always were keen.” said a new voice from all around. I don't know you, personally but why do you want PlayBack? I asked. The laugh grew louder. “Adrien, with his abilities to lure in prey, I could create this earth in my image. Scarlet rivers, forest made of ember and my rightful throne made from your kinsman.” He said hissing like a snake ready to strike. I started cutting my restraints, and finally got my left arm loose.

” So I am guessing The Order told you of the shipment, and sent you to rid the Earth of...Him. Am I right?” He asked. I finally figured out where he was. Remembering I am not facing a human foe, I could use my imagination. Amaymon...was on the ceiling hooked at his peak. He spoke into the stone of the room and let it echo creating an illusion to throw me off. As I cut my right arm free I felt his breath on my back. It was hotter that a pyre in mid July. “Now, Now where would you be going?” He asked as he grabbed my right shoulder. I took my blade and ran it across his knuckles, that felt like a decomposing body let in a river under the sun.

He screamed in pain and laughed. I quickly ducked and freed my ankles and waist. I was just in time to avoid a right swing from his boulder sized claws. “GIVE ME WHAT I WANT!” Amaymon shouted. As I rolled away I got a good look at him. He looked like a 12 foot tall humanoid with skin like rot and eyes like a spiraling fire pit. He wore only his lab coat that was tattered and torn. His smile had finally ripped his face in half. “Well, HERE I AM, Adrien. Do you really think you can take me on...A Prince of Hell!?” He belted out in a deep voice.

I looked right past him by the double doors and saw my belongings. Among my stuff was a small whiskey flask...filled with blood of an archangel. Say, Amaymon...since this will be presumably my last day alive, would you care to partake in a drink with me? I asked holding back any sign of intent. He stared at me clenching his fist and squinting.“You drink...I wont be fooled so easily, you cant poison me you simple creature.” he said. I walked over and grabbed my flask and pretended to swallow it. I held just a few ounces in my mouth so not to blow out my cheeks. I grabbed my dagger from under the flask and let a few drops drip onto the blade. “Keep haste, Adrien...I am a busy man. HAHA!” Said Amaymon.

As I was running out of ideas of attack, Damien and Joseph pushed open the doors gaining Amaymons' attention. I seized the opportunity and threw the dagger with precision, hitting him in the neck. The monster tried to speak but the blade had already sealed to his throat. He reached for me and cut me from chest to stomach. I spit what was in my mouth out onto him and watched his flesh corrode viciously. I grasped my abdomen over the cut and gasped in pain. The two orderlies hightailed it like a couple criminals in a cop shop. I grabbed a vial from my coat pocket in the box by the door and drank its liquid.

I felt the drink spread through my body and the pain it brought with healing. The Cut became a scar, but at-least Amaymon was dying. ” You, you have not seen the last of me...and Playback will come for you.” he muttered with his final breath. He collapsed to his knees and then his belly. A dark light shot out of him temporarily blinding me. I loaded down with my belongings and searched for an exit. Through hours of wondering this maze the walls began to shut like doors. I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction until a dead end faced me. I heard the walls closing in on me, then they stopped.

“Told you, you haven't seen the last of me, little meal.” Amaymon said from behind me. I smiled and turned to face my opponent. We both attacked and the a bell echoed through the corridor leaving as impact happened. The lights came back on and the sounds ran silent. Both Amaymon and I laid on the calm cool flooring bleeding out. As drew in each painful breath I heard footsteps slamming. As I peeked over my shoulder I could see a familiar image approaching. I wasn't shocked to see him, I turned to Amaymon relieved to see he was indeed lifeless a burnt out. I looked back and Playback was kneed down looking at me. His screen played a single message,” Your turn.” Then I fell into a dream.