Where am I?

I can’t move. Why won’t my muscles move?

It’s so dark. Is it night? It’s so cold.

Hello! Anyone there?

Dear God, I can’t speak! What’s happened to my mouth? Why can’t I talk?

Wait…I remember.

He lay in darkness, shivering, the fog blanketing his mind slowly dissipating.  Memories flashed before him: a Victorian style home; a beautiful woman; a sickness. His name was Wayne Locke and he had Legionnaire’s Disease. He was as good as dead. But then a new company looking for volunteers to test their product had offered him a single chance. He could be cryogenically frozen until a cure was found. The choice had seemed reasonable at the time. 

My index finger moved. Fuckin’ A!

As time twiddled away, more and more of his muscles awakened from their icy slumber and the room temperature rose to a more tolerable level.

How long have I been here? Where is everyone?

These questions plagued him as time progressed slowly. The silence and unknowing eroded his sanity, and to him; it felt like an eternity. The hospital where he had undergone the freezing process had been well staffed.  Nothing made sense.

Why aren’t they checking on me? Someone has to be out there. Why are they leaving me in here?

Pressing his hand against the glass, he tried to call for help, but his words were a garbled mess.

I can’t stay in here, something’s wrong.

His chest tightened as he sucked in short breaths, fearful of running out of oxygen. As his strength returned, he slammed his palms against the lid and pushed. Nothing gave, and no one appeared.

It doesn’t make sense, he thought and when he felt he couldn’t take the solitude another moment, a ‘ding’ echoed in his ear.  The lid of the cryo-unit disengaged with a hiss as the icy air escaped and its hinges moaned in protest as it opened. A mist formed as the air in the cryo-unit intertwined with the warm air of the room. Waving the cloud away with his right arm, Wayne searched for a nurse, doctor — anyone.

He found no one.

“Hello,” he finally said, his voice raspy due to his dry, coarse vocal cords.

To the right were two more cryo-units. A large section of the roof had collapsed upon the closest one, breaking the glass. Though he suspected to find it empty, his morbid curiosity caused him to investigate. Before taking a step, his legs wobbled and seemed reluctant to obey, but he managed to stagger toward it.

Ouch, he thought, seeing the skeletal remains of the person inside, its skull crushed by the debris. “Poor bastard. At least you never knew what killed you.” He found little comfort in that. Looking toward the ceiling, a single tear streamed down his cheek as he thought, that could have just as easily been me. Thank you.

Walking over to the second unit, he found it was without power. Inside lay a severely decomposed body. Its limbs twisted so awkwardly he couldn’t tell if it were male or female. This one didn’t go peacefully.

Turning away, he said, “Dear God, how long have I been away?”

A sudden chill danced down his spine. Whether it was his nakedness or being surrounded by so much death, he did not know. Wrapping his arms around himself, he stumbled over to the exit and was pleasantly surprised to find the door unlocked and operational. 

Immediately to his left stood a set of lockers. Looking upward once again, he begged for something to warm his chill body.

Nothing. He tried another.

Inside the second locker he found a dust covered lab coat. Raising it into the air, he snapped it back. A cloud of dirt encompassed him, triggering a coughing fit. As his body tried to expel the foul air, he put on the coat and walked over to the next door.

The hospital was deserted, its once sterile hallways now dark and dingy. Only the emergency lights were on, but they were enough to see the scattered holes throughout the hallways.

“Bullet holes,” he said, tracing the outline with his finger. “What the hell happened here?”

Turning a corner, he saw a light emanating from the end of the hallway. His spirits lifted upon seeing it, but the feeling dissipated with a wave of nausea.

He stumbled a bit. He brought his hand upward as his cheeks puffed out.  Fighting back the burning bile, he felt a warm trickle down his leg informing him the thawing process was almost complete.

“That’s just fucking great!”

At the end of the hallway, he stumbled through a set of double glass doors. The light outside daggered his eyes and he quickly raised his arm to shelter them from the sun’s harsh rays. 

“Da ist ER!” a voice shouted off in the distance, it sounded menacing and unfriendly.

Wayne’s eyes squinted as he tried to see who was approaching. Not knowing if it was friend or foe, he ran in the other direction.

“Ihm Nach!”

“Leave me alone!” he demanded, the brightness of the outside world still blinding him.

Wayne turned to check if the two men were still chasing him, then collided into something. He fell backward, his lean ass providing little protection from the concrete.

“Bist Du OK?”

“Am I okay?” Wayne asked in return. His eyes fluttered frantically as he stared upward. His vision was blurry, but the man before him looked upon him with sympathetic eyes and held out his hand. Wayne graciously accepted the gesture and was lifted back onto his feet.

“Forgive me. Are you all right?” asked the man he ran into.

“I think so.”

“Mein Fuhrer is expecting you,” said the man as he gently brushed Wayne off.

He’s German? Wayne thought, finally recognizing the language.

“Where am I?”

“You’re safe. You’re in America, of course.”

Wayne’s eyes finally adjusted to the light and he found himself looking at the man’s chin.

His head rolled upward, taking in the man’s features. He was of fair skin, blond hair, blue eyes, and nearly six-foot-three.

The two men who chased Wayne approached with caution and the man before him said: “Please, brothers, speak in English to ease our friend.”

“Is he all right, Reinhardt?” asked one of them.

“He appears to be,” Reinhardt answered.

Wayne stole a glance at the two men and was shocked to see they were identical to Reinhardt. “No…it can’t be,” he mumbled at a barely audible level.

“What can’t be?” asked Reinhardt.

“You’re…you’re Aryan, aren’t you?”

“Well, seems we have a scholar here. Mein Fuhrer will be pleased,” said one of the other two.

“Who is your leader?” Wayne asked, panic-stricken.

“It’s okay. He said you may be disoriented by all this,” said Reinhardt in a soothing tone.

“He who?” he asked again impatiently.

“We’ll leave that for him to tell you.”

Why won’t they answer me?

Wayne’s head rocked side to side as his mouth gaped open. His muscles stiffened. He wanted to scream, wanted to run, but where would he go? Who would help him?

Not knowing if he could trust these men, his breathing became erratic as panic gripped him tightly.

“Don’t be afraid. I shall take you to Mein Fuhrer. All will be explained.”

Seeing that the men were unarmed, his fear subsided a little. “Okay. I’ll hear what he has to say.”

“Excellent. Come, follow me,” Reinhardt said and turned about-face.

Wayne followed, with the other two Aryans right behind.

As they walked through the quiet streets, Wayne noticed the physical structures were as he remembered, a little beaten and torn, but still standing. The nation’s capital still looked as beautiful as it did all those years ago. However, there were no children playing in the parks; no city buses running the gamut; and especially, no women. Nothing but six-foot-three, blond-hair, blue-eyed men going about their daily routine, whatever that may be.

Afraid of stirring the pot, he kept his questions for the man in charge, though he could not understand how Hitler’s ultimate plan could have come to fruition as he slept.

It couldn’t have been the infamous Adolph Hitler, but there was no other explanation for the existence of Hitler’s master race. He died around the 1940s, didn’t he? But who would be crazy enough to continue what was begun so long ago?

Wayne couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it.

Must be a descendant of some sorts, he rationalized, hell-bent on finishing what his great, great…ah screw it, I don’t even know how long I’ve been out of it.

A familiar sight put his thoughts on hold.

“He’s in the White House?” he asked as the majestic building came into sight.

“But of course. Where else would the world leader be?” asked Reinhardt.

“Of course. How silly of me?”

“It’s okay, the world as you knew it has changed in the last one hundred and fifty plus years,” Reinhardt replied.

“Dear God,” Wayne said as his head hung low.

“Best you not think about it now,” he replied.

Wayne remained quiet for the duration of the hike. The burden was too great. Everyone he knew, everyone he loved—gone. His parents. His siblings. Nancy.

A single tear streaked down his right cheek as an image of Nancy formed inside his mind. He was going to marry her before he was inflicted by the viral disease.

Stupid…stupid…stupid, he tortured himself.

Though the house he purchased needed some renovations, it would have been the perfect place to raise the family he longed to have. Money was tight, and he was always handy with tools, so it seemed to be a good idea. It was supposed to be a surprise for her. He spent the better part of six months sneaking around making repairs and improvements to the fixer-upper with the hopes of when it was done; he would introduce Nancy to it and finally bestow the one-karat diamond ring he purchased for her.

She would have said yes, I know it.

Another tear. He wiped it away.

Most of the work on the house took place during the hot summer so the AC unit was cranked to cool his sweating body.

Three months with a filthy air-conditioning unit running nonstop. Why didn’t I clean it? It should have been the first thing I did. Stupid. Out of sight, out of mind, right? He half laughed, and the three German men looked upon him in confusion.

Wayne’s self-pity came to an abrupt end as they entered the White House. Seeing the elegant building brought new memories to the surface, particularly of the grade school field trip where they met President Reagan.

“Ah, the Lord shines on thee,” said a man as they entered the main office. He stood with open arms and approached.

There was no mistaking that ink-spot on the man’s upper lip. This was the Adolph Hitler.

“Mein Fuhrer, he has awakened,” Reinhardt said.

“Yes. I see. Come, we have much to talk about. Leave us,” he ordered, waving the three men away.

“Don’t be afraid. He means you no harm,” Reinhardt whispered, then turned and left.

“How is this possible?” Wayne asked.

“Just like the men who escorted you, I am a clone.”

“What?”

“DNA of the world’s greatest leader had always been saved for the right time, when the technology was in place to see his dream to fruition.

“In 2004, our clone became of age. The science for cloning had been in place for years, and with the United States locked in a war that had its forces separated and scattered, the time to exact His vengeance was at hand.

“While your leaders struggled to capture Osama bin Laden, our solution went undetected until it was too late. We conquered the US by concealing our true identity and rose to political power legitimately. Our campaign was brilliant. Safety for America first, and the slobs bought it hook, line, and sinker. With the major threat to our power eliminated; we used its military to conquer the rest of the world, eliminating those in power who could stop us. 

“Then, lulling the world into a false sense of security with peace, production of the master race began.”

“The Aryans,” Wayne interrupted.

A smile stretched across Hitler’s face. “Yes, impressive. Once the master race was completed, we sought the destruction of all others.”

“Why are you not in your homeland?”

“Who says I’m not? The world is a big place with enough room for more than one Hitler.”

“But how can you be here, alive and well when it has been one hundred and fifty one years since I was frozen. You should have died.”

“Ah…how right you are, but we are immortal. God among men. As we speak, another clone is being nurtured and all of our memories will be integrated into its being when the time comes, thus making us immortal.” 

“That’s blasphemy!”

“Blasphemy?  Blasphemy was separating mankind.”

“You’re a fool,” Wayne said defiantly.

“No. A fool is someone who doesn’t know the truth, but pretends to. It is clearly written in the book of Genesis that mankind was separated by distance, color, language, and religion, because God feared that if united, mankind could accomplish anything. And that is what we’ve done. We have broken down those social barriers placed upon us by the creator and the world is in harmony. There is no sickness, no famine, and no petty squabbles over race or creed.”

What a hypocrite? Wayne thought. “Broke down the social barriers. You fucking destroyed them.”

“That’s what needed to be done in order to unite the world. Cleansing was in order.”

“This is impossible. I—”

A new wave of nausea roiled suddenly in his stomach, stronger than any he’d experienced before. Panic gripped him, his insides twisted and vomit erupted from his mouth. He stared wide-eyed at the crimson tidal wave that splashed upon the floor.

“Are you all right?” asked Hitler as the heaving ceased.

“I think so,” he replied after catching his breath.

“Why were you frozen?”

Wayne looked upon the tyrant, bewildered. He doesn’t know I’m sick, surely he would have found my file.

“It was an experiment,” he said out of fear for his life. Though death was inevitable, he wasn’t ready just yet.

“A successful one at that. You need rest.”

Hitler clapped his hands, the sound echoing in the massive room. A frail man dressed in tattered robes entered. Pulling a rag from his back pocket, he began the task of cleaning the mess.

“So there are others.”

“Of course. What is the point of being the superior race if there are no servants?”

“You call this harmony?”

“Yes. He has been raised to serve and is content with life. During the clones’ incubation period, they are taught by a computer. Their behavior is…downloaded I believe would be the term you are familiar with.”

“So you clone the servants, too. They all look like him?”

“Yes.”

“What about women? I have yet to see one.”

“There are none. We do not need the female of the species.”

“That’s absurd.”

“No, it is efficient. With the cloning there is no deformity, there is no sickness, only perfection. Women are flawed and I will not have that flaw passed on. All women have been extinct for nearly a century.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it make more sense to have some females on hand as a contingency plan? What if these computers and machines you speak of fail? What then?”

“Females, by nature, are free-spirited and uncontrollable. Then there is the temptation for inter-racial mixing, which would compromise our perfect race. It is better this way.  Besides, we never understood them and always felt uncomfortable around them.” 

“It’s true then?”

“What’s true?”

“It was always rumored that Hitler was gay.”

“What a laughable slang word for homosexuality. Who better to pleasure a man than another man? Only a man could know what feels wondrous.”

“Do you realize what you’ve done?”

“Yes. We’ve created utopia.”

“No. You’ve doomed the human race. You and your master race are living on borrowed time.”

The clone broke into a fit of laughter.

Wayne’s hands curled into fists, and his knuckles turned white as he was consumed by rage. “What’s so funny?”

“You see, this is what we’ve missed. A heated debate between two intellectual minds. I’m so glad we kept an eye on you.”

“Come again?”

“Come now. You seriously don’t think that a building as old as that hospital could still have a working generator all these years without some sort of maintenance do you? I’ve known about you for a long time. Unfortunately, during the cleansing of America, the building suffered some damage. The ceiling collapsed on one of the units and severed the power to the other, but when we found you, we did our best to make repairs and keep you alive. At first, it was because I found you handsome and I was curious, but it has grown into so much more. I’ve been waiting for you in hopes to show you all we have done, and to know what you think of our new world. I may even share you with the other leaders. Unfortunately, we know nothing about you. All the electronic files were lost and there were too many paper files jumbled together to make heads or tails from.”

“You kept me alive so you could brag?”

“No. You misjudge me. As of late, we’ve come to a stalemate so to speak. All our children share His ideas…His visions. There is no conflict to spur growth. No melding of ideas. Once you have seen first hand the genius of our creation, you will realize it is flawless, and then we can move onto more pressing matters.” 

“I understand, but I’m not going to be some lap dog.”

“No. You are my guest.”

“And for the record, I’m not gay.” Wayne felt the need to say it, feeling uncomfortable with the look in Hitler’s eye.

“There will come a time when the need will dominate you. You will crave the soothing touch of another, and the moral objection will be tossed out the window. When that time comes, I will be there. Until then, I shall respect your privacy.”

Wayne didn’t know what to say. He felt sick just hearing the idea. He swallowed hard and shook his head, not wanting to entertain the thought, but one thing puzzled him. Though the idea repulsed him, still he was curious.

“I look nothing like those men. Why the attraction?”

“I guess,” Hitler said, “what they used to say is true. Variety is the spice of life. Come. I shall show you to your quarters where you will be able to slip into something more becoming of you.”

Finding some truth in Hitler’s words, Wayne accepted his reasoning and said, “Thank you. Would it be possible to see these cloning facilities?”

“I don’t see why not. We have countless facilities all across the world, but the very first is right here in the White House, but first, you should get comfortable.”

“I will. Oh, and I would very much like a bite to eat as well.”

“Consider it done. I will send a servant to your room with a feast fit for a king.”

Wayne followed behind Hitler as they walked through the White House.

Stopping at a large arch-top door, Hitler said, “This will be your room; I hope you find it suitable.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Wayne replied as he stepped inside and looked around.

“I will see about getting you something to eat,” Hitler said and turned to leave.

“Thank you,” he said, but the man was gone.

Figuring it would be a little while before any food could be drummed up; Wayne stripped the piss-stained robe off and walked into the bathroom attached to the large suite. He turned the brass handle all the way in hopes of getting the water good and hot; his body still felt cold and his flesh was covered in goose-bumps.

Stepping into the shower, he immersed himself into the stream, allowing the water to splash off his face. With the steam filling the air, finally he felt warm, but those positive feelings dissipated as the coughing began again. He saw his reflection in the glass doors and noticed his cheeks contort, the veins in his forehead bulge, and his skin purpled. He dropped to his knees as he struggled to breathe; blood erupted and spiraled down the drain.

Finally, it stopped.

Taking several deep breaths, he stood and rinsed the trail of blood from his chin and neck. Clean again, he shut off the water and toweled dry and when he stepped out of the bathroom, a knock wrapped on the door. 

“Come in,” he said dull and flat.

“I’ve brought you something to eat,” said the servant as he pushed a silver cart into the room. The door closed behind the man.

“Thank you,” Wayne said.

The doors burst open. Both Wayne and the servant jumped, startled by the sound of the door slamming into the wall.

“Why were you frozen?” Hitler asked, storming into the room.

“I told you—”

“Liar!” Hitler shouted, slapping Wayne across the face as he came within reach.

Wayne was knocked to the floor, the iron taste of blood returning.

“Once again, you’ve vomited blood. That is not natural.”

“You were watching me?”

“There are cameras in every room. Of course I was watching. Now answer my question. Why?”

“I have Legionnaires’ Disease. I was frozen until a cure was found.”

Wayne could see the fire burning in Hitler’s eyes, and he trembled in fear.

“You fool. Look what I’ve brought to you,” Hitler said, lifting the silver lid off the cart.

Wayne could see a roasted duck, a dish of mashed potatoes, cinnamon apples, corn, and an entire loaf of what looked to be wheat bread. Though he wasn’t sure exactly how much of it he could eat, he was more than willing to find out.

“This and so much more could have been yours. Without trust, the world will fall into chaos once more and you have betrayed my trust.”

“I was afraid you’d kill me,” Wayne pleaded.

“But you’re already dead,” he said, raising his right arm.

Wayne squinted his eyes as the blow came crashing down. There was a pinch at the back of his neck, then darkness.

#

Images of his life rolled before him. He watched his life flash by as if it were a movie, all his memories—good and bad. Nancy stood before him, a vibrant white light surrounding her angelic form.

“Nancy, oh how I’ve missed you.”

“Hush my darling,” she said, placing her hands upon his cheeks, her cool touch instantly arousing him.

“Am I dead?”

“No, dear, but you must wake up.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“Wake up.”

“But I—”

“Wake up!”

“Welcome back,” said a familiar voice as Wayne’s eyes fluttered open.

There was a blinding light hovering above him. When he tried to look away, there was no response. Not again, he thought. Though he couldn’t move, his body surged with pain.

Focusing on it, there was a stinging sensation at the back of his skull and a throbbing at his chest. His mind felt numb, that same pins and needles feeling a limb receives when it has fallen asleep.

“You’re fine. The paralyzing effect of the machine will wear off shortly after its removal.”

What have you done to me?

“Now, you may be wondering what I’ve done to you. Let me explain. First, I’ve replaced your lungs with those of a servant; this should prolong your life. Secondly, your memories are being uploaded into our computer’s mainframe. And thirdly, well,” he said, raising a needle up so that Wayne could see it. “You woke just in time for me to take a DNA sample. Work on your clone must begin so it is ready in time.”

No, Wayne thought as he surmised the situation.

“You will be immortal, just like us.”

No.

“Don’t worry,” Hitler said as the needle pierced Wayne’s bicep. “In time, you’ll learn to appreciate my gifts. Possibly even come to love me.”

Oh God No! 

“I’m done,” Hitler announced, pulling the needle out of Wayne’s arm. “Take him to his room and stand guard.”

“Yes, Mein Fuhrer,” the Aryan said, walking over to the operating table where he lie.

Wayne’s eyes remained fixated on Hitler as the man scooped him into his arms and carried him off. The devilish grin on Hitler’s face sickened him and the only thought on his mind was death. He was more than ready to die now.

#

While Wayne lay motionlessly in his bed, waiting for the paralysis to free him, his thoughts lingered on a means of escape, but his mind felt as if he had sucked down three grape slurpies without taking a single breath.

Focusing on the task at hand and doing his best to ignore the discomfort, he knew it would be risky, but he doubted Hitler went through all the trouble of prolonging his life to simply gun him down, but where would he go? There was no one in this new world he could trust. Perhaps Reinhardt, but how could he tell him apart from the countless others.

Looking upward to the camera scanning the room, he wondered if he could successfully kill himself before Hitler or one of his goons could stop him.

What am I going to do?

Regardless of which path he chose, there was one detail he could not ignore. The life Hitler was creating from his stolen DNA. What would become of it?

If what he says is true, and my memories are downloaded into the body, then he will feel exactly as I do when he awakens. The same uneasiness. The same fear. The same regrets.

His thoughts drifted to Nancy and the love they shared. Tears pooled at the base of his eyes, and he decided then, he would end it now. He could no longer be passive and roll with the punches. No. He needed to destroy his clone and run far away. It wouldn’t be enough to simply kill himself. Hitler could just take another sample and start over again. He would need to disappear, a place where the maniacal bastard couldn’t get his filthy hands on him, but he had no idea of where.

First things first, he thought, able to curl his fingers into a fist.

Simply sneaking around in order to find the facility was out of the question with the cameras following his every move. He needed time, and in order to get that, Hitler would need to be immobilized.

Swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, he tried to stand, but fell back. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. His legs were wobbly, but this time they supported his weight.

“You’re not permitted to leave,” said the sentry as Wayne opened the door.

“I wish to speak to Mein Fuhrer, could you summon him?”

“I will instruct the next servant I see to fetch him.”

“Thank you,” Wayne said, closing the door.

Sweat beaded on his brow as he paced back and forth. Though he knew what needed to be done, he questioned his ability to accomplish the task, unsure if his muscles were atrophied or not from the freeze. Besides, in his life Wayne had been dragged into one fight back in grade school, and he came out of that one physically and mentally bruised. He could barely defend himself, let alone land a punch of his own. The crowd of spectators laughed and pointed as Tom Welsh pummeled him until a teacher finally broke it up. Since then, Wayne coward away from confrontation, living his life under the radar of his peers.

“Come in,” he said as a knock wrapped at the door.

“You wish to see me,” Hitler said, entering the room. His hand hovering at his waist, ready to grab the steel baton holstered there, which Wayne did not notice earlier.

He’s threatened by me. Not good, he thought. “Yes. I wanted to apologize to you. I’ve allowed my fear to cloud my judgment and haven’t thanked you properly for the kindness you have shown me.”

“Well,” his hand relaxed, “this is a surprise. Why the sudden change?”

“I haven’t felt this healthy in a long time, and I owe that to you,” he said, taking a step closer toward his tormentor. “I’m willing to take baby steps, if you’ll be patient with me.” Wayne opened his arms, inviting Hitler to a hug.

Hitler smiled and stepped into Wayne’s arms. Wayne’s right knee launched upward, striking Hitler below the belt. Before he could protest, Wayne grabbed his lapel, reared his head back, and slammed it into Hitler’s head, knocking him out. Blood ran down from Hitler’s nose and Wayne knew it broke under the weight of the vicious blow.

Carefully, Wayne laid Hitler’s unconscious body on the floor and removed the expandable baton. With the flick of the wrist, the weapon elongated and he stepped to the side of the door.

“Help! Somebody help!”

The guard standing outside burst in and Wayne clubbed him, sending his body crashing to the floor. After checking to see if the coast was clear, Wayne closed the door.

Just tying him up won’t buy me enough time. I have no choice, he thought, raising the baton high over his head. With all his might, the baton rained down upon Hitler’s head in a furious succession of hits. Each blow struck with deadly accuracy, blood splattered across the floor and walls as the baton was withdrawn for the next hit, and Wayne did not stop until his arm ached to the point he couldn’t lift it anymore.

“It’s done,” he said in a soft whisper as he gasped for breath. The piece of brain matter clinging to the baton’s tip was all the evidence he needed.

 Too exhausted to kill the Aryan, Wayne dragged the unconscious man over to the bed, removed the sheets, and then used them to tie him to the bed-frame. Stepping over the body, he removed the ring of keys attached to Hitler’s belt loop.

After exiting the room, Wayne closed his eyes and tried to create a mental picture of the White House’s interior, but soon realized he’d have to rely on instinct and any clues along the way.

As he walked through the halls, weaving in and out of the shadows as servants passed, he wondered why there were few guards to hinder him.

In times of peace, one becomes complacent, he reasoned.

Stopping at a pair of decorative mahogany doors, Wayne fiddled with the handle, checking to see if it was locked. This could be it, but it may take awhile, he thought, staring at the ring of keys.

Choosing one, he inserted the key, but the door remained lock. He moved on, trying each one and sliding it off to the side, so as not to repeat an attempt until finally, the lock disengaged. Easing the door, he peaked inside.

His eyes fixated on the table he had been placed upon with the mechanical arm hovering over it. His shoulders twitched and the icy feeling returned upon seeing the proboscis-like apparatus.

Turning away, he saw a lonely technician, standing in front of a large computer. On the viewing screen, an all too familiar image was displayed and with the press of a button on the control panel, the memory of him and Nancy sharing a slice of apple pie at their favorite restaurant vanished.

A tear streamed down his cheek as he was reminded of the love he lost and the sick, twisted love that would be forced upon him should he fail.

Several more images from his life popped onto the screen as if his life were a slide show for the world to see. With morbid fascination, he watched, until another image of him and Nancy appeared. The still picture instantly aroused him. The curve of her naked back as she sat atop him, loving him in a way no woman prior to her had ever done.

The pressure building in his pants quickly faded as the image disappeared.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Wayne charged head long, steel baton pulled back and raised over his head. Seeing his beloved stirred something primal within him.

The man in the lab coat turned to face him, but before he could defend, Wayne lowered the club, striking him on the side of the face. The momentum caused the man’s body to slam into the computer console.

“I won’t let you destroy her.” He grabbed the man by the back of his head and pulled back. “You heartless,” he slammed the man’s face down, “piece of shit.” He slammed him again. And again.

When he pulled him back a third time, the man’s face was covered in blood, pieces of plastic imbued in his torn flesh. Wayne’s merciless gaze drifted toward the man’s chest and he watched with baited breath, waiting for a sign of life. When none came, he released his hold and the body spilled to the floor.

“I won’t let them destroy your memory, Nancy,” he said, forgetting what his rational mind had hoped to accomplish.

Taking in a deep breath, he raised the steel baton once more and smashed it into the computer’s console repeatedly until he could no longer lift it. The metal sheathing cracked open, exposing an assortment of wires of various colors. Knowing the surface damage he did could easily be repaired, Wayne dropped the baton and grabbed hold of a handful of wires in each hand and yanked. Sparks danced and crackled in the air as the wires ripped from their terminals.

Wayne sheltered his eyes with his forearm as his body instinctively leaned back. An electrical fire erupted, and before he knew it, the computer was engulfed in flames.

Stepping away from the blaze, Wayne took notice of a large, steel door to his right and pondered what lie in wait for him. When he found the door unlocked, he felt minor disappointment, but his spirits lifted when he saw two rows of glass coffins.

“That bastard lied to me.” He approached the nearest unit.

The naked body of a middle-aged woman lie inside, surrounded by a yellowish-green fluid with some sort of device encompassing her face.

Putting his hands against the glass, he said, “I knew he couldn’t do it without you. He needed your eggs in order to create the clones, didn’t he?”

“Very good.”

No! That’s impossible. Wayne turned around, hearing his tormentor’s voice. The silence was broken by the thunderous roar of a dislodged bullet, and Wayne felt a pinch, followed by an intense heat in his abdomen. He clutched his stomach and felt wetness. As if in a dream, he pulled his blood-stained hand away and collapsed to the floor.

He looked up. There was no blood and no gaping hole in the man’s head, and he knew then he had failed. The clone was ready.

“Mein Fuhrer, what is this. What are those?” asked the man accompanying Hitler.

“It is unfortunate you have seen this, my son,” Hitler said, firing his gun once more. The Aryan fell to the floor, where he lie motionless.

“You bastard,” Wayne said, blood pooling in his mouth.

Hitler walked toward him, grinning. “I suppose I’ve waited this long for you, I can wait a little longer. I won’t save you this time, my friend.” Hitler placed the barrel of his gun at Wayne’s temple.

Wayne locked eyes with the beast. No longer was he willing to be afraid of death, but there was one last wish on his mind: Let them fix the machine and allow my clone to retain my memories so that I may try again.

The gun fired and Wayne succumbed to the darkness.