Pseudopsychosis.

Remember the rules if you want to participate:

• Leave a comment expressing direct interest in writing a chapter. If you’re the first to ask, the writing baton is bestowed upon you for that chapter. You must comment to reserve a place and when it is your turn, I will remind you in the comments section. Clock’s ticking, though! You have three days from that point to write the chapter and send it back to me as well. However, if I don’t hear back past three days, I will be looking for another participant to write the chapter.
• Please do not submit to the form without commenting your interest in writing a chapter. As well, only one author per submission, meaning if you submitted a chapter and it is accepted, you cannot submit again for a different chapter.
• The minimum word count is 500. The maximum word count I will accept is 5,500. When it’s your turn, submit your continuation here where I will then review and edit it. The day after you submit your continuation and it is accepted, the chapter will be posted and the process starts all over again.
• I will not accept anything religious, outwardly political, hateful, pornographic, slurs, or anything that is demeaning, threatening or harmful in its content. Please nothing that is against a particular group, or anything that demeans a certain group of people that would be considered racist, homophobic, sexist, religious discrimination or prejudice. I will not accept your piece if that is such the case.

No clue what’s going on in the story so far? We got you.

Chapter One by Lucy

Chapter Two by Liyona

Chapter Three by James Strummer

Chapter Four by Matt Snyder

Note: I will be re-posting this to attract different readers and writers of different time zones internationally. If you reblog this and I re-publish the post, the link will lead to an error message. The way to fix this would be to update the link on your end.

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Chapter Five by Silver Stone

Author Acknowledgment: This chapter is based on Symphony of Destruction by Megadeth. I just had to, because my previous idea was trash…. Keep reading for some epic plot twists! (Also, I had to use a translator for this chapter, because I’m terrible at that language 😅)

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Those words sound so familiar. I just can’t remember where and when they were said. It seems too hazy… I hear footsteps approaching, and the sound of something being dragged.

“¡Toma a ese tipo ahora mismo!” Take that guy right now! was the last thing I heard, before everything faded to black once again.

***

“¿Qué piensas? ¿Es el correcto?” What do you think? He’s the right one?

“Él es el indicado. Parece apto para ser el candidato perfecto.” He is the one. He is the perfect candidate.

All I heard were some indiscernible voices mumbling in… Spanish? I try to open my eyes, but fail to do so. I can feel myself being bound tightly to a chair. Once again, I hear heavy footsteps approach me, and I was awoken with a splash of ice cold water. It felt like I was being stabbed with a thousand knives.

“Are you awake now, Senõr Charlie?”

I look around completely startled, and then look at the face of my captor. He appeared to be six foot two, was a heavy set man, a good crop of jet black hair, and had a bushy moustache that rivaled Groucho Marx’s. He was also dressed in an ash coloured suit and had mocha coloured dress shoes. I had a million questions running through my brain. Who is this guy? How does he know my name? What am I doing here? Most importantly, what’s even going on?

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry, everything will be taken care of. My name is Eduardo Sanchez, and you’re just what we were looking for.”

That still doesn’t answer my question, dude! Why am I here?

“Hope you had a nice rest, ’cause you’re going to have a long night.”

Wait, what do you mean by that? Okay, this guy is really scaring me. I’m struggling to break free from this chair, which is of no use. I desperately pray that this wasn’t some sick prank played by my co-workers, or it was just a twisted nightmare. Everything’s going to be fine. However, my prayers weren’t answered; I saw four men in medical attire come up to me and proceed to pin me down, and one of them is holding a syringe.

No, no, no, no, no! Please don’t tell me I’m going to die at this moment. This isn’t a dream, this is a horror show going on right now.

“Relax, Senõr. It’ll all be over, soon.”

That was all he said, before he injected whatever liquid was in there into my bloodstream. I couldn’t feel anything momentarily, and I started to feel disoriented. I could hear the voices, however they sounded to indiscernible; given my current state.

“NO, NO! Take only a small section of the scalp! What are you, stupid?”

“Give me the microchip. Easy, easy does it. Perfect!”

“Senõr Sanchez! It seems to me your “candidate” is prepared for training.”

“Good. Take him to the Green Room. His training shall begin there.”

***

I woke up once again, and saw that I was in a dark room where the only source of light was coming from the rectangular mirror that’s opposite to me. I look at my reflection, and saw myself in a black bodysuit; I had a brown tool-belt that was filled with guns and some bullets. What was even going on? What happened to me?

All of a sudden, an image of the Ace of Spades card appeared in front of the mirror, and a voice over the P.A announced:

“Steel Viper, are you ready for your mission?”

“…………………..”

“…………………..”

“…………………..”

“This is Steel Viper: waiting for your command, Senõr Sanchez.”

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