The Original

Blinding

"What's your full name?"

"Charles Lincoln Neal III."

"How old are you?"

"32."

A brief pause, a scribble on a clipboard.

"Occupation?"

"Entertainer."

"Gender?"

"Male."

That seemed to be good enough, because no more questions were asked. The questioner scribbled something down then walked away into the next room, shutting the door quietly behind them. The blinding light shone in my face, which was the only light that seemed to be present in the room. The soft chatter of people in the other room could be heard, but barely audible.

I fiddled with my fingers and and tappped them on the wooden desk I was sitting by. I turned around in the cold metal chair I was on, not wanting to be blinded by the light. My mind started to wander to other thoughts.

What's the big deal?

Did I actually get cloned? 

Where am I? 

Just then, someone walked in.

"Mr. Neal?"

"Call me Link."

"No can do, Mr. Neal. Anyway, I need you to follow me. I need you to talk with someone."

I nodded my head, a bit uneasy with the situation. The person telling me this had a stiff back, stood up straight, and didn't smile. I just shook my uneasiness away, just thinking it was my inner scaredy-cat, And followed the person as they started walking away. I was still hesitant, but I still followed.

I stumbled a bit through the hallways, tripping over my own two legs. Then a thought dawned on me; How long was I sleeping? It couldn't be that long, but then again, I wasn't that great at walking right now, and my memories were faded...

I decided to say nothing, not wanting to be that akward person who always asks weird questions. Instead, I just listened to the steady beats of our footsteps walking against the hard tile of the hallway.

The hallways were dimly lit, making them kind of eerie. I looked around on the walls and noticed cabinets stacked on top of each other, all crammed together. They all had reoccurring numbers on them, labeling each one.

I noticed sections of numbers, mostly all having the same first few numbers. I started naming them by number.

Section 131419514

Section 3151511

Section 20151313525

Section 16152020518

Section 18524201514

Section 145112

That last section stuck with me. I don't know why, but it did. Then I noticed a dented cabinet. It was partially open, unlike the others which were sealed tight. I noticed the number was 145112-1. That must of been mine. 

"Mr. Neal, come quickly now," the person showing me the way said. I must of stopped, because they were much farther ahead.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I ran up to where they were (and  yes I did stumble a bit).

The pace continued its tempo beat as we walked down the narrow, dimly-lit hallway, my mind still set on the numbers lining the cabinets. What did they mean? What was in there?

Hello everyone! As you can probably tell, I'm making this into a full-out fan fic! Just don't be expecting a lot of updates, because I have a busy life. Anyway, something to consider, the numbers do stand for something, I'm just waiting for someone to figure it out. Love ya'll, and stay mythical!

                20madmag