Desired Life

Chapter 13: Mental Reset (Part 2)

The man takes me away from the room we were in and we slowly head to somewhere unknown.
"So, John, you okay?" he asks.
"John? Who's John?" I ask back.
"That's your name," he replies as he looks at me with a confused expression.
"Oh... I didn't know," I mutter, looking down to the floor.
We keep walking for a while and then we enter a room.
I gaze interested at the inside of the room.
Right in front of me, a humongous glass pane covers what would be the part that looks to the outside. Then beside me, the walls are painted red with intricate designs woven into them, since it seems to be fur walls or something. The floor is covered with the same red fur and patterns.
A clean metal desk sits about seven meters in front of me. Behind it, a chair stands there, its back facing me. As the man accompanying me closes the door behind him, the chair turns around along with the person sitting on it.
It's a muscly young man, seemingly in between his twenties. His hair as bright as fire, sticks up unevenly here and there. He has a wide, white smile on his face.
He dresses casually, with some jeans and a deep blue shirt.
I look back to his face, and now I notice something that I hadn't noticed before. It unsettles me as soon as I see it. His eyes, or at least where his eyes should be, are replaced by empty sockets.
"Hello, John," he welcomes me.
"Hello, mister..." I reply, prolonging the mister with the intention of calling him by his name but then acknowledging that I don't know it.
"McCarthy. Gregor McCarthy," he fills in.
I can clearly recognize his accent as British, just as...
Just as who? You don't know anyone with a British accent, apart from Mr. McCarthy here.
"He's complied with our request, sir," the man beside me informs Mr. McCarthy.
"You have?" Mr. McCarthy asks.
"I guess," I answer, shrugging. "I can't remember much. I couldn't even remember my own name a few minutes ago."
Gregor McCarthy eyes me, apparently interested in me. "So you don't remember?"
"Not much, at least," I mutter.
He then looks at the man beside me and nods. "Narcissus, we're ready then. Tell him his mission."
The man beside me, Narcissus, smiles and walks to stand beside the metal desk.
"John, there is a powerful breed that has come to be known as Outsiders. They are people with supernatural powers," Narcissus starts.
"What about them?" I ask.
"See, you're one of them," Mr. McCarthy says.
"Am I?" I question.
Narcissus nods and then continues, "Thing is, Outsiders have gotten out of control and they are starting to kill civilians. We, the Corporeal Hybrids, are a governmental organization dedicated to... free... the common folk from those Outsiders."
Mr. McCarthy produces a folder from inside the metal desk and hands it over to Narcissus.
Narcissus takes it and opens it, motioning for me to get closer. I stride toward the desk and start looking at the papers inside the folder.
First of all is a sixteen-year-old girl. She has a soft tanned skin and deep brown eyes. Her dark brown hair falls around her shoulders.
The picture seems to be taken with precaution, almost as if they didn't want that person to find out. Beside the picture, there's a paper that contains her information: age, height, name, and even her parents' names. Apparently, her name is Maia Harrison.
Why does she look familiar? I've never seen her before, have I?
I flip through and find more names and pictures.
Next follows a beautiful girl by the name of Diane Keating. I stare into her deep brown eyes and look at her fair face and her brown hair. As I look at her picture, I feel something warm rushing inside me, almost as if I had feelings for this stranger.
The next one in line is a guy who is surprisingly similar in appearance to me. I down at the name written beside the photograph: Grindelwald Adams.
Somehow, it manages to ring a bell in my mind, yet I can't quite grasp what it is.
His dark brown hair -which is a shade darker than mine- covers one of his eyes. It seems to be a picture taken at least a couple of years ago. His eyes are brown, just like mine. Still, his face is sharper than mine, but it makes him look better than I do.
I search for his parents' names, but it doesn't seem to have been written into this document.
I keep flipping and find other people by the names of Orson Bloom, a guy with tousled up hair and a bright smile, apparently in his thirties; Louise Pattinson, a woman with a scarred face, yet somehow beautiful eyes; Annabelle Lawson, another girl my age; Penelope Morgan, yet another girl my age; Ryan Matthews, and his brother Barry Matthews.
I am about to flip to the last one when Narcissus catches my hand and smiles, moving it away from the folder.
He must be hiding something, I tell myself. I'll sneak in and check later.
"So... you want me to get rid of all these people?" I question.
"Yes, exactly," Mr. McCarthy replies.
"Alone... or will you prepare a group to help me?" I ask.
"You will head along with a small group in a couple of weeks. Enough to train you for the moment," Narcissus answers.
Then he nods at Gregor McCarthy and leaves. He closes the door and I am left alone with Mr. McCarthy.
"It was nice meeting you, sir," I say, ready to leave the room.
"Nice meeting you too, John," he replies.
I make my way to leave the room, and as I am about to open the door, he adds, "You know, if there's anything that you want to ask me, then don't hesitate on asking. I will always be here to help you."
I nod, more to myself than to Gregor McCarthy, and leave.