Lives of Infamy - Opening Scene

PLEASE COMMENT!!! This is a rough draft the opening scene of a novel I am writing about the humanity's first (and failed) attempt at world government. Although the plot is not evident in this short introduction, the novel depicts a patriotic young man's disinfranchisment with the increasingly authoritarian global government and his eventual rise to infamy as the world's most notorious rebel leader. It is set near the end of the 21st century and is intended to be a psychological thriller. This is the first work of fiction that I have ever attempted to write, so critical comments are highly encouraged! If something is poorly written, confusing or just plain cheesy, please don't hesitate to point it out and offer a suggestion on how to improve it! Thank you and enjoy.


Lives of Infamy

Chapter 1 (part 1)

Jason struggled violently to free himself from the bonds that were holding him down. He twisted and pulled with every ounce of strength he had left in his body, completely ignoring the painful lacerations that were developing around his wrists and ankles. Above his bed a bright light blinded him from the rest of the cold empty room he was in, and the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heavy breathing and desperate struggling.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Jason knew that escape was impossible, but rational thought was no longer a factor for him. His typically sharp mind was nothing now but an incoherent haze of panic and animal-like instinct, utterly incapable of reason or self control. He couldn't even remember why, but there was absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do, including gnawing off his own limbs, if it meant even the possibility of getting out of that room.

At one point during his struggling, the distinctive creak of a heavy metal door found its way to his conscious awareness. It took him a moment to process, but by the time he realized the significance of the sound the shadowy figure of a woman had already appeared at the side of his bed. He could not make out the woman's face because of the blinding light, but there was something hauntingly familiar about her dark flowing hair and lime-green scrubs that sent an unforgettable chill Jason's spine. Whoever she was, and whatever she planned to do to him, he was certain that it would be far worse than death. He could feel it in every bone in his body, as if his subconscious mind was trying to warn him that that his very soul was somehow in danger of being tampered with.

Jason opened his mouth to protest, the woman bade him quiet by placing a cool latex-covered finger on his lips. "Hush now" she said in a soft and soothing voice, "everything will be alright". Jason looked up at his mysterious captor with defiance, but she smiled back at him with such a reassuring and sympathetic look that for a moment -just a fraction of a second, Jason almost felt comforted by her presence rather than terrified by it.

A moment later, however, this false sense of security was quickly overcome by a renewed sense of panic as she deliberately lifted a small, familiar-looking hypodermic syringe into Jason's field of view. When she smiled balefully and lowered it back down out of his view, every muscle in his body clenched tighter than if he had just been pushed into a giant pit of spiders. He had never screamed before in his entire life, but, tipping his head back, this time he let it all out.

Within seconds he felt the inevitable prick of a needle in the side of his neck. He tried to resist by jerking his head back and forth, but the restraints around his head and arms seemed even tighter now than they had been before. As tears of helpless desperation started to roll down his cheeks, a cool and vaguely familiar tingling sensation began to grow in his chest and arm.

Then an even stranger sensation began to take over. Much to his confusion, it started to feel like gravity was playing tricks on him. The bonds that had been holding him down so tightly were mercifully releasing their grip, and the cold hard bed he had been strapped to felt like it was disappearing from beneath him. When Jason finally stopped screaming and ventured to open his eyes, he was no longer tied down to a table at all. He was floating weightlessly in total darkness.

Almost immediately he moved his arms about in an instinctive swimming motion, but he quickly found that it did no good. All he could do was float. What kind of cruel trick was this? Before he could even begin to ponder the mystery of his situation, however, his thoughts were interrupted by the eerie echoes of a young girl’s voice that found him from somewhere in the darkness. It wasn't coming from any one direction, but rather from all around him. And she was begging for help.

Another cold chill shot down Jason's spine, and in an instant he had completely forgotten about his prior captivity. He tried to call out into the darkness and ask the young girl where she was, but it did no good. Any sound he made was simply devoured by void. The more the young girl begged and pleaded for his help, the more powerless and frustrated he felt. Eventually Jason had no choice but to give up and just try to ignore the begging. He felt bad about doing it, but what choice did he have?

Inevitably, questions of why and how began to creep back into his mind. None of this made any sense. Where could he possibly be? Why was he floating? Who was this girl anyway and why did he want to help her so much? As he began to fully comprehend the ridiculousness of his situation, the little voice in the back of his head that was telling him it was all just a really bad dream suddenly became much more powerful.

------------------------

Reality came rushing back to Jason like bright sun rays ripping through a part in the clouds. He opened his eyes and abruptly sat up in his chair, breathing hard and soaked with cold sweat. He had been dreaming –again. The burning fear that had been clenched so tightly in his chest suddenly released and rushed through the rest of his body like a shockwave, tingling warm in his arms and legs before slowly dissipating into vague unpleasant memories.

Looking around, he saw he was sitting at a table in the university library. He had fallen asleep studying. He laughed almost involuntarily as he exhaled, realizing that the thick books and seemingly endless pile of notes spread out before him ironically provided him with a great sense of relief. Smiling and shaking his head, he reached back and wiped some of the sweat off the back of his neck.

Finally he looked down at his watch. It was two o’clock.

Deep breath.

Ok… everything is fine now, it was all just a dream.

Two o’clock…

Shit! The exam!

------------------------

NOTE: Many people have expressed disappointment about finding out it was all a dream. When I post more of the story, however, you will find that it is much more than "just a dream" . Unfortunately I can't give away any more details than that!