Patient Application: Rysune

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Patient Application: Rysune

Post  Rysune on Tue Sep 06, 2011 6:07 pm

>> .init
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[file.reg:] Ryan Summit
[gen:] Male
[age:] 28
[d.o.b:] August 18th, 1983
[ht:] 6'
[wt:] 145lbs
[sym.] Amnesia, Paranoid Schitzophrenia, Agoraphobia, Insomnia, Night Terrors (When sleep comes), Hypnagogic Hallucinations (Sleep Paralysis, for those times between)

[Inbox] dir.1.02//
[Received] 8/6/11
[ShowFile]:\\
>> [Subject: Your new applicant...]

To whom it may concern,

It has come to our attention that one Ryan Summit has taken an interest in your establishment. We have no quarrel with his decision, and have agreed to aid him in the application process. Enclosed is a copy of a letter, in his own words. Further information has been included, to further your understanding.

"My name... Hah. My name. As lost as the rest. What do I remember? The Cage, we called it. But I'm ahead of myself already. History is barely remembered, and the present is difficult to comprehend, but I will try.

I was born the 18th of August, '83, to a single mother. Amanda, was that it? Mandy, they called her. My mom. Or at least she tried her hardest to be. Born to a military mother, in a military hospital, raised on a base that never existed. Bastards were paranoid about commies, the "Cold War." that never got started. And no matter how clean, how proper any institution is, there are always undesirables that find places of power.

The idea was simple enough, I suppose. Children, born and raised military. Eating, sleeping, breathing military. Never taught to hope, or to dream, only to remove said things from another. A relatively small test group. One base, about a hundred children or so. The base was divided, yes... Like a lucky clover, with the main complex in the center. Small groups of children kept apart for so long. Believing that the only world was our little world, boxed in by razor wire and landmines. They wanted to know if we would be stable, if - after so many years of this treatment - four groups of strangers could simply mingle. Understand eachother. Each group trained differently, taught different values, morals...

So many years wasted. The project's funding was cut. The Cold War was over before it began, but we had no idea how to go on. Angst ridden teenagers knowing naught but combat. We hadn't a clue about the outside world. We were given the choice to leave, offered military jobs... I took my chance. Continued my life droning away, doing the only thing I knew. I fought wars that were never publicised, assassinated people that never existed. I thought I was the hero.

December 20th, 2008. Was it Fallujah? It doesn't matter. I was in a desert, and then I wasn't. Taken by jet, briefed on the way. I wasn't told where I was going, I wasn't told why. The instructions were simple. A HALO Jump, that's High Altitude-Low Opening, in the middle of the night. The target would be plain from the air, near invisible from the ground. One door to the bunker, hidden deep... Without a sound, in and out. But I knew this place. The smell of the air, the echoes in the pipes. This was home. Why was I sent here? ..."


The letter is incomplete. As though the writer ran out of paper, and couldn't be bothered to get more.

Official records have been recovered, those that have been unclassified. Further information regarding Pfc. Summit is slim, but from what we can gather it's safe to assume that the man was a Russian agent. He just didn't realize it.

We've located the site of the old bunker, "The Cage." It's nothing but a hole in the desert. The air inside the abandoned complex still stinks of death. Ryan was sent back, delivered to them, to be executed. Bastard was too good, slaughtered them all. His own family, thinking that they were turned against him. When he was done he hacked the mainframe, recovered some of the facts - learned that he was the puppet. The prints recovered at the scene by the CIA are the last evidence of Ryan's existence. Well, until now. Best we don't remind him of his past too quickly.

- Z

[Medical History:]
--\\rerouting_user_dir::
Waiting...
Waiting...
Waiting...
|Loading files . . . 1/2349
{file removed
{file corrupted
{file corrupted...

[sys.err]
[manual.sd.inn]
>> Recovered 2% of file 1/2349.
>> processing...

[ Allergic Reactions?: N/A]

>> end_file


[Court.Standing:] N/A

[Previous.Diagnosis:] N/A

[Notes:] Patient has a history of violence. Strict observation recommended.

-- Have a nice day.
--
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>> end


- Hello?
- I tried my best.

[[op.sys.nr]]
[[query...]] set.srch.para//archive
>>Archive
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[/RySu:NE_81883.14.6]
>not_fnd

Waiting...
Waiting...
Receiving...
Rec

::32)-90633333sdf333311.2er

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INTERNAL_SERVER_ERROR
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Last edited by Rysune on Tue Sep 06, 2011 7:01 pm; edited 3 times in total (Reason for editing : Wasn't... Good enough.)

Rysune

Posts : 1
Join date : 2011-09-06

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