Primary Anomaly

A deafening, high-pitched ring broke my concentration. I turned away from my computer monitor and looked around the office from my cubicle. I tried to single out the source but I couldn’t identify it. It wouldn’t stop. My co-workers were unfazed, they hadn’t even noticed the terrible sound. How could they be so calm with this skull piercing needle of a noise present?

Trying to remain composed, I stood up, looked over my cubicle wall and asked Matt, the temp, whether he could hear the noise. He looked at me with a puzzled expression before it was altered to a more pensive and focused one. He turned to me after a short pause, shrugged his shoulders and said “no, sorry”. I must have been going mad. I decided I was probably in need of a break, so I headed off to the bathroom to wash my face and hopefully clear my head.

The ringing persisted as I made my way to the bathroom. With every step I took I felt like my senses were being overwhelmed. The tapping of fingers against keyboard keys and the ensuing click-click-click of each key resonated within me, sending shocks throughout my body. I sped to the hallway and exited the office space. The floor to ceiling windows allowed sunlight in, all I could feel was a burning sensation rather than the sun’s comforting embrace. I felt as if I was being tortured from the inside out, each speck of air I breathed in would burn my lungs. My head was throbbing, the ringing only kept getting louder, and soon it became the only thing I could hear.

After what seemed like an eternity I reached the end of the hallway and turned left, briefly looked up and felt a slight sense of relief as I saw the silhouette of the man on the toilet sign. I walked in, gathering myself just in case anyone else was inside, thankfully it was empty. The dark grey, tiled walls and the white lights felt calming, yet the abundance of the colour created an unwelcoming atmosphere. I walked to the nearest sink and let the tap run. Moving my head up, I looked into the mirror, my reflection stared back at me and I saw a face I didn’t recognise. There were beads of sweat running down its length and continuing past my neck. I looked pale and old, wrinkles covered every inch of it, my bloodshot eyes rested upon baggy eyelids. I turned away, horrified by what I had seen. I cupped my hands and let water collect in them, splashing my face once they were full. Everything felt so strange, it was like I had never touched water before. It felt so oddly gentle, so satisfyingly refreshing. I let it run over my hands for what felt like hours. Its touch calmed me down and I suddenly realised the ringing had stopped. I looked up at my reflection again and I saw the face I was used to seeing. Everything seemed normal again and I couldn’t figure out what had happened. Was this an episode of some illness I had developed? Had I been working too hard recently? Maybe I needed a vacation.

I sat back down at my desk, surrounded by the walls of my cubicle. However, it felt different. It didn’t feel mine, nothing did. I felt unsettled, it was as if I was at a stranger’s desk. I looked around to make sure I was in the right cubicle. I was. Why did I feel this way? I peeked over the wall and decided to look at my colleague. I had known him for five years but I barely recognised him. Everything was so close yet so distant. All of this was mine, but at the same time it wasn’t. A strong sense of worry overcame me, forcing me to pack my things and head home. Although my car was parked outside I decided to walk there. I thought looking at the city would snap me back into place, but it only made things worse. The ringing started again, everything around me seemed like something one would remember from a picture, not from having lived there for half a life.

I opened the door to my building and walked in, staring straight ahead at the elevator. Its light greeted me as the doors opened. Having entered it, I pressed the button for the eighth floor, waited for the doors to shut and let it carry me upwards. I turned left and walked down the hallway as I exited the elevator. I stopped at my door, unlocked it and opened it, only to be greeted by a place to which I had no connection. I walked into the living room and slumped onto the couch. I was lost. Lost in the only place I could call home. I didn’t belong there anymore. And the ringing, the tormenting sound that had collapsed my reality from one moment to the next. It wouldn’t stop.

...

Identical rows of desks and computers, with men and women in the same article of clothing occupied the room. The hum of computers and the clicks of keys and mice were all that could be heard. A man sat at the far end of the room. He wore a grey Mao suit, just like all the others, and sat at a desk with three computer monitors. Two played a multitude of videos, all being processed and transferred into specific folders. The remaining centre monitor had lines of code typed out, at the top you could see the file named “Subject R-897”. While he typed out the lines of code, a subtle smiled formed across his face. He knew that this was just the beginning, he knew that what he had started would change the world forever. It would all start with Subject R-897. Years from now, one by one, they would all wake up and realise they were so much more than they thought.