Merge: Mission At The Mansion

Write At The Merge: Week 33

 

This week is a photo prompt of a mansion which I've used to provide a future segment of my novel Blind Obedience. 

Background: Emma was born into a highly classified government program which caused her mind to split from intentionally induced trauma from a very young age. The personality splits created from the trauma were then trained with highly sophisticated methods by neuroscientists and other experts for various tasks and purposes. Emma has no awareness of this split off part of her life and is vacationing in England, or so she thinks. She has one day in London and is obsessed with buying a raincoat at Burberry's before her motorcoach tour leaves the next day. Previous segments of the story can be read here.


Emma entered Burberry’s and was met by a tall well-dressed female assistant in red pencil skirt, tailored blouse, and black heels. As Em stood at the counter providing her hotel information and shipping address after the final fitting for the raincoat, a gentleman, undercover for MI-6, awaited his opportunity. He had been notified by a call to a nearby telephone booth when Em left her hotel.

When Em wandered off to look at the luggage, the Englishman lingered nearby making small talk. He was able to give her the hand signal and code phrase which called out Hilary, the one who would receive the information for the assignment. One of the motorcoach tour stops would be Yorkshire. Hilary was to relay the meeting place, time, and person’s description to an inside personality known as “the conductor”.

Nearly all covert activity in Em’s life took place at night. All she would ever know is that she fell asleep in the same bed in which she awoke. The conductor’s job was to relay the meeting information to a different personality. Always an assignment was carried out by a series of personalities so if any one of her was caught and questioned, no one part would ever know the full story. Orders came from high above through other operatives so secrecy at the highest levels was never compromised.

After Em went to bed the night her tour was in Yorkshire, Natasha went to the provided room number. The team in the hotel room prepared her for the mission: clothing, disguise, “accessories”. At 2 a.m., Natasha met her contact on the dark side of the bridge, a short walk from her hotel. From there she was ushered to the American military base Menwith Hill for a briefing with those who were to be her black ops teammates for the next few hours. Just before boarding the helicopter, Anya was cued to carry out the remainder of the mission. After touching ground out of earshot of a private party held at a posh English estate, Anya arrived by limo and stepped out in her elegant attire with the help of the valet. She provided the name on the guest list and walked in confidently. 

During a quick stop in the ladies room, she carefully applied the coating to her lips and then the layer of a beautiful shade of deadly untraceable poison. The recipient, the target identified as the traitor, would be pronounced dead of a heart attack, after Anya was safely in the helicopter and after using her special lipstick remover saving her from any toxic effects.

Natasha returned to the hotel room to be debriefed and relinquish her mission items. Moments after entering her hotel room, the phone rang. Natasha answered. She was cued to forget all that had transpired and to switch back to Emma before getting into bed. The moments between signals and actions to and from Emma were always lost in the amnesia.


Words: 493

Merge: Blind Obedience (3)

Write At The Merge: Week 29

For this week's challenge I chose one of two prompts: Nancy Sinatra singing "These Boots Were Made For Walking". This is the continuation of the fictionalized but real secret government program where children were raised as a hidden generation of mind controlled "puppets". The previous segments can be found here.

Elias was in awe meeting the most reviled Nazi of all time, Josef Mengele with his narcissistic confidence and black boots remembered by many long after the concentration camps; Reinhard Gehlen, who was allied by the CIA for his many contacts with the Soviet Union and his knowledge of what was needed to stay ahead of Soviet advancements in mind control; and Jose Delgado, a man with no loyalties but whose knowledge of brain stimulation and manipulating both animals and children to perform as puppets rather than entities with their mind. All were integral to training those whose children would become the first babies born into the program.

Training for Elias’ role for his own child began before its conception. He had no problem signing the documents, although he hated the clause stating his own flesh and blood child would be swapped at birth with a child genetically engineered for the program. He winced at knowing he might have a son he would never know. To ensure his loyalty to Firefly (the highly secretive program of targeting genetically engineered newborns), the CIA made it known they had proof of Elias’ history as a pedophile—knowledge that would ruin his life and career. His job in the larger scheme of the program was to teach the art of torture to create multiple personalities in the young minds, beginning pre-birth.  

Aberdeen Proving Grounds was a common layover point for Nazis entering the US under Operation Paperclip before being given a permanent assignment. Elias trained in 1951 and was prepared for his newborn in late 1952. He was also able to incorporate the new techniques that did not apply to newborns to his now nearly three-year-old child.

The genetically engineered baby was the egg of the biological mother and the sperm of a highly secretive royalty sperm bank. It was long held in the occult that certain bloodlines were meant to be preserved and children hidden from the royal donors would ensure the succession. In fact many donors were also raised in the occult creating childhood multiplicity and became unwitting sperm donors as teens fathering numerous unknown children. The Nazis were forced to worship Satan and participate in the rituals. That knowledge became part and parcel of Firefly. The same people responsible for creating the sophisticated personality structure of each child were also the people at the terrifying ceremonies where the ultimate traumas were perpetrated on the children.

It had been identified before the program that messages a child or adult heard at the height of terror were retained far more quickly than any other method. It was the means to an end but also the fulfillment of an insatiable desire by pedophiles and sociopaths who cared more about their country’s goals and personal perversions than their own children’s welfare.

As for the biological mother, all unwitting wives would never have memory of the medical procedure to extract the eggs.

Words: 486

Merge: Blind Obedience (2)

At The Merge: Week 28

We were provided two prompts for this week's writing of up to 500 words. I chose this image because it reflected mind control or a broken person to me.

You can read the first segment of this story here:

Photo Source

In the Cold War, no one questioned what the US government was doing to keep us safe from the always heightened fear of Soviet nuclear proliferation. Under the umbrella MK-Ultra, the ultimate in harm was done to college students, prison inmates, our own soldiers, and beyond in the name of finding the “right” resources to use against our enemies. LSD used on unsuspecting people was introduced by the CIA underground to observe its ability to produce mental malleable individuals to no avail. Psychiatrists in nearly every major university in the country was lured into the program (which went completely against the Hippocratic Oath) to administer various drugs and try unethical hypnosis to see how far a person could be made to go beyond the bounds of that individual’s ethics. It was proven that hypnosis could reach a level causing a person to commit acts without memory of doing so.

While MK-Ultra had just under 150 subprojects, other projects and programs of an even deeper level existed. The intent was to begin with a newborn or young child whose mind was still capable of fragmenting as a coping mechanism which usually only happened before a child was six years old. To create this effect, a child had to be consistently subjected to physical, sexual, and/or emotional abuse to include the extremes of witnessing harm to others and torture including sensory deprivation and drugs to quell resistance. The “formula” for beginning with a newborn was not completely in place until after the birth of Elias’ first child. He did his part to instill the fear and maintain the prescribed methods of abuse at the time, all designed not to be evident to the spouse.

When his first child was only two years old, the family transferred from Japan to Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Maryland. The Proving Grounds and its neighbor Edgewood Arsenal were the places of some of the CIA and Army Psychological Warfare Division's deepest secrets. It was here Elias met his personal trainers, hand selected Nazis under Project Paperclip, another secret government program which ushered Nazis criminals into the US for their knowledge of rocket science, mind control, and other specialties post WWII.

The entirety of the mind control program was under the direct supervision of Jack Leber, head of the CIA’s Technical Services Division. The notorious Nazis, whose whereabouts were kept well guarded and/or covered with revisionist history and propaganda, were under Leber’s direction to train the “special” sociopathic officers recruited into the program. Everything was laid out with precision. If the children of the program lived to be adults fulfilling their carefully engineered purpose somehow remembered and told the truth, they would never be believed.
Words: 447

 

Merge: Read 'Em and Weep

Write at the Merge: Week 27

This week's challenge is to use one of two prompts as inspiration for writing. I chose Katherine Hepburn's quote:

 
“Rules were meant to be broken.” Not how I was raised by a demanding career military officer. Adults were to be respected and obeyed without question. Breaking any house rules was bad enough; fear of death was imposed on me and my siblings for breaking rules outside the home. Perfect students. When old enough to date, so many more rules. “If you ever find yourself at the police station, don’t bother calling home.”

I did break a rule, though. When I remembered my childhood after years of amnesia, I told. Even in my forties, it took all my willpower to let him know I remembered what he did to me. Courage was defined by the number of states between us. Immediately I was declared dead to the family and disowned. My mother had to abide to the ultimatum “her or me” given by her husband. I lost all contact even though I realized I could not have contact because of the extreme dysfunction. Still, it hurt.

I had already broken the rule of seeing a therapist when my second marriage failed in the late 70s and remained in therapy on and off until I began remembering. Then intensive therapy became my full time “job”.

Come to think of it, I broke another rule. In the early 80s I had a breast reduction. I have always been the smallest anywhere in a group at any time. My oversized chest made it the focus of my being. I asked my mother when I was 19 if I could have a breast reduction. My father overheard and came at me in a rage. It’s one of the few times my mother stepped in. However, I learned just before age 30 that health insurance covered the procedure and I qualified. Such freedom.

Then I started a blog about my healing and the horror that had been my childhood and into my adulthood seeping through amnesia. Each time I posted, I was sure I would be killed for “telling”. That had been so ingrained into my being.

Finally I can say I am healed and whatever had been rules made by others in my life that were meant to keep me from being a healed, relaxed, joyful person were tossed aside and I made me own rules. Keep what fits and discard the rest.

Breaking the rules is how we discover who we really are or can be, in my experience. I wish my life had been different but am thankful to be here now writing and sharing fearlessly. For me, the act of writing is brave…I mean for everyone. To speak what is truly on one’s mind is to forget anyone’s rules and tell it like it is.

Words: 454

 

Merge: Halfway Gone

Write at the Merge: Week 26

This week's challenge is to write up to 500 words using Lifehouse's song "Halfway Gone" or a photo of a lighthouse as inspiration. The combination reminded me of a harrowing experience I had when I was maybe 20 years old at The Defense Language Institute in Monterey, CA where I was stationed for nearly a year. I was part of a group of "guys" who hung out together. I think I was their mascot. We were all in the Air Force.

Photo Source

It was a rare quiet weekend day when my four "big brothers" and I got to hang out at the beach in Carmel next to Pebble Beach Golf Course, high on the cliffs to the right of us. Mike decided he wanted to go for a walk so all of us followed. The four guys thought it would be fun to climb around the cliffs. Not wanting to be a spoilsport, I agreed. They were all big and strong and I don't think I was yet 100 pounds. I felt safe with them.

Starting out was innocuous enough. Rocky small hills with a slight incline. Then we turned the corner and I saw the huge cliff walls. Wanting to back out, I was assured many others had done this and there was a path. They lied. I followed their lead; and when I started to panic, two were ahead of me and two behind. We were half way between ocean and golf course. The beach led us to that midway point which was very deceiving until rounding the bend.

I knew the sea lions were on the rocks not too far out; but at one point, I could hear them below. Making the mistake of looking down for the seals, I saw the jagged rocks jutting out of the water directly below us and how sheer the cliff had become. I froze. Literally. Could not would not move. The two ahead of me had solid footing. One held the other as he leaned toward me stretching out his arm urging me to let go with one hand and he would grab me. About that time the rock I was holding onto with my right hand started to slide out of the cliff. I was ready to be rescued by helicopter. Unfortunately, it was in the early 70s long before cell phones. And no one knew where we were.

One of the two trailing me decided he would brace me from behind so I could lean against him. I felt him moving around me. His right hand and foot were secure, but as he reached around me to grab hold of a rock to the left of me, he fell backwards off the cliff. I knew those rocks were below. I screamed so loudly and began to cry with both rocks coming loose in my hands. I was sure I was going to die and was sure Tom had fallen to his death. The guys assured me he was fine but I didn’t believe them and wouldn’t look down. Poor Tom climbed back up from the water to show me he was okay. A guardian angel guided his fall because he didn’t even have a scratch.

I don’t remember much of the rest except somehow they got me from that spot and we climbed up to the golf course as soon as we had a path. I cried the entire way because of sliding rocks. No more rock climbing. Ever. 


Words: 499

Edge: Quick! The Bubblegum!

Write On Edge

Write no more than a 200 word post about bubblegum:

Such a picturesque view along 17-Mile Drive of Monterey, California, passing through Pacific Grove, along Pebble Beach Golf Course, through Carmel and a dramatic view of the lone cypress. With several lookout points, Audrey just had to stop and put her quarter in as she used to as a child when on a trip.

After begging her boyfriend to pull over, she hastily put a quarter in the view finder. Turning the knob the quarter wouldn't budge. She tried digging it out with her nails, but that didn't work either. Dean tried pushing the coin in further and again tried the knob. Nothing. It was their only quarter. 

Suddenly Dean said excitedly, “Gum! Give me a piece of your bubblegum!” Not knowing what was wrong with him, Audrey frantically looked through her purse and felt a piece of gum at the bottom. She pulled it out and handed it to Dean who quickly tossed it in his mouth chewing rapidly for about 30 seconds. He then pulled out the gum, smooshed it on the quarter, and proudly removed the gum with the quarter attached.

Fortunately, one more view finder stood next to them.

Words: 193

The Merge: Le Cirque (3)

Write At The Merge: Week 22

Write up to 500 words using the lyrics to the song Gold On The Ceiling sung by The Black Keys as inspiration.
 

Photo Source

Phoebe sauntered past the entrance to Le Cirque to the bench further down the block knowing Nate would be wondering if she would show up for dinner. But she had to think things through carefully before she committed to sitting down with him, face to face, having a conversation that would surely lead to the reasons behind their break up two years earlier. 

Taking a deep breath, she let her mind wander back in time to their last conversation. Nate was confident and career-focused and living his dream. Had she always felt so insecure? Maybe it was a matter of trust. She trusted Nate but not herself to make the right decisions. Obviously she still had trust issues because of her wake of failed relationships. Nate was perfect. He still cared for her. She sensed that in his eyes and in his words. Mostly she hid from the world by delving into her own career. So little time for therapy, or at least she made it so. Did she really want to dig into why she avoided returning another’s love? 

“I thought that was you racing past the windows outside. Always on the run…still?” 

Phoebe looked up sheepishly. “Hello,” she whispered. 

He offered her his hand and she accepted. Together they entered the restaurant and sat at their table that was next to the window. She sighed at her failure to ask the cab to drop her off beyond the entrance. 

“You look well…happy,” she said as cheerfully as she could. 

“I am,” he said. “The investment world has been good to me.” 

“Obviously,” she remarked. “I can’t tell you how overwhelming it is for me to be in this restaurant with you. I feel like Cinderella at the ball. Or something like that.” 

“You? Part of your life is to wine and dine clients in upscale surroundings.” 

“That’s in my comfort zone,” she snapped. 

“Ah. I guess that’s what I was most curious to know when I saw you earlier today. I was hoping your insecurities might have lessened. At least that’s what I had assumed was why you had pushed me away.” He reached across the table for her hand to offer reassurance but not before she withdrew her hand into her lap. 

“Maybe dinner wasn’t such a good idea. We haven’t ordered. I could just slip out now. I don’t know why I came.” She spoke to her napkin in her lap never making eye contact. 

“No. Please stay. I’m sorry for saying that. I never stopped caring about you. I hear you and will respect your feelings. Just two friends then. Let’s have a nice dinner with no expectations. Afterwards, we go back to our lives as usual. Deal?” 

Phoebe found herself nodding as she swallowed down the tears. Damned tears. What did they mean? Maybe seeing Nate again was a sign.  A sign to look past her professional façade to the vulnerable little girl who seemed take over when she let her guard down?

Words: 500

(Previous segments of this story can be found in blog listings. All named Le Cirque with consecutive numbers, although written for various writing challenges.)

The Merge: Le Cirque

Write at the Merge: Week 21

Write up to 500 words using the prompt "petrichor".

Photo Source

Bustling through the crowded streets on a hot summer day trying not to look too wilted, Phoebe, noticed a scent reminding her of petrichor. Her mind immediately shifted to her time in the Arizona desert when she and Nate were caught in the brief sun shower. The red clay beneath their feet pooled like fingerpaint, and they drew designs on each other's arms. She had drawn a heart on his.

Jolted out of her daydream by a blaring horn, she felt pressure on her arm and heard a familiar voice, "Whoa, not so fast!" The hand pulled her back from harm's way. Was she still daydreaming? Slowly turning her head, she confirmed her suspicion.

"Nate! Ummm...thank you. What are you doing here?" She tried not to sound too stunned or awkward. Their break up had been odd, but she had moved on with her life. She quickly pushed down any lingering feelings of love she held for him to guard her fragile emotions.

"I'm in town for a meeting. What a surprise to see you rushing past me! How are you?"

Why was he so at ease speaking to her knowing he must be stirring up her emotions. Was he that over her? It hurt to think that their love had vanished from his being so completely. "Fine," she smiled meekly. "I'm late for a meeting, but it was good to see you." She was turning to walk away when once again he held her back.

"Catch up for dinner tonight? Two friends?" Nate’s hypnotic eyes gazed at her. “Le Cirque at 8?”

“Sure,” Phoebe mumbled. She smiled at him and quickly darted across the street with the mass of strangers. How could he be so relaxed and aloof when she was now like a tightly wound ball of string about to unravel at any moment? How would she make it through dinner pretending not to care? She didn’t even have his phone number to call and make an excuse, although she could leave a message with the restaurant.

In the elevator on her way up to the 22nd floor, she was able to compose herself sufficiently for her presentation.

“Good morning, Ms. Sinclair. The conference room at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you, Charlotte,” answered Phoebe, her transformation to professional advertising executive now complete.


Words: 388

Close Encounters (3)

Write At The Merge Week 19

(Libby's previous story can be found here.)

Write up to 500 words using the photo prompt 

of cherry blossoms.

Photo Source

Such a beautiful Spring day for a jog with the cherry trees in full bloom and barely a cloud in the sky, Libby thought exiting her workplace. She could watch the bright pink sunset on the second half of her jog. After changing into her exercise clothes at home, she was on her way. Loving when she got into that adrenaline high, it felt like the rest of the world dissolved, her body on auto-pilot, and she could think clearly and deeply. When Libby went into “the zone”, she sometimes wondered who was watching her route ensuring she didn’t trip. She had come to accept she was in safe hands even if not consciously present.

While lost in thought, Libby heard a man’s voice say, “I’ve been waiting for you.” The tone was deep and demanding of respect. She swung her head around to see who had spoken to her. No one was there. 

“Not there,” said the same voice impertinently. 

She shook her head as if to make sure she wasn’t hearing voices.

“I’m in here and you are not crazy,” the voice said emphatically.

Libby stopped dead in her tracks. She knew without a doubt the voice had come from inside her mind. She sat on the bench at the side of the path, head in her hands, remembering the vision she had before of the man in the tuxedo at the top of the beautiful hill. When he had appeared, her thoughts had been interrupted by a phone call so she hadn’t tried to find out who he was; although she often imagined the flowery hill to calm herself when feeling anxious.

She thought she was thinking to herself but really mumbled aloud. “Are YOU the man in the tuxedo?” not believing she was actually asking.

“Indeed, I am.”

Okay, Libby thought. Ask the question you really want to know. “Are you my inner wisdom?"

“What do YOU think?” he replied in the same know-it-all pompous voice.

Words: 330

Mind Shadows (2)

Write At The Merge: Week 17

All segments of this story (Mind Shadows) can be found here.

Photo Source

 “They can’t possibly be true, can they?” MacKenzie’s voice cracked trying not to think details of her nightmares and ever increasing flashbacks.

“Whether there is truth to them or not, you are experiencing great emotional distress. I can help you cope with those emotions and help you through whatever is happening.” Georgia paused to see if MacKenzie was able to hear what was being said.

“Can’t I just shove them back inside?” MacKenzie asked plaintively.

“Unfortunately, whatever was protecting you from remembering since childhood is no longer working. Sometimes the mind decides it’s time for you to know. Some believe age has something to do with it. There’s no stopping it. Normally it has a pace to it. Moving slowly is best. Trying to deny or reject the message or messages will only make it worse. I’m here to help you through this.”

MacKenzie slumped back into the comfortable chair letting her head hang back, closing her eyes. She imagined herself on a foggy bridge that led only half way into the fog. She wanted to disperse the fog to see what was hiding in her subconscious. Just get it over with like tearing a band aid off. But she heard Georgia and knew that was not an option.

“Let’s schedule more frequent visits. And try to write down thoughts and feelings you do have that come up after a nightmare or flashback...or if you notice anything else causing a fear reaction like you did with the gun in the television show. Think of them like puzzle pieces. At some point you will begin to see answers.”

MacKenzie nodded and agreed to see Georgia twice a week until she felt in control again. On her way home, she stopped to pick up a special journal for her thoughts…one that was pretty. While wandering through the bookstore to pay for her journal, she happened to pass through books on The Occult. Some covers showed hooded figures and one even showed a cemetery at night. It gave her the chills. She quickened her pace to the register and hurriedly left the store.

Words:  350