182 notebooks. And I don’t understand a word. I found an object in my closet. I don’t know what it is. It is not mine. It belongs to the other who wants to steal my brain, the one who thinks he is me. I want to take it to Spiller but I don’t trust him. He snoops, he wants something that he won’t admit to. Temporalis, Temporalis — they are the scourge. Are they trying to steal my mind? Are they the ones I must destroy? The buzzing won’t stop. I haven’t slept in three days, the baleful eyes of the Sinister One haunt me.
I went to see Dr. Spiller and saw the dreams. I know that place where the children go. Where is it? I remember it but from another time, like the ghosts. The dreams are like the ghosts. Familiar and strange, out of my reach. Something is hidden there. Something important. Truth behind the lies. The truth will come. The voices in my head tell me the truth will come, wait for the truth. But there’s a hole in my brain and the things that fall into that hole are distended and obtuse. I want to run but I have promised. I have a mission.
They would kill me if they could, if they knew that someone else is putting information in my brain. I write the equations but they make no sense. I must be forgetting a symbol, a sign. Ryland, the name has meaning, I wrote it before. The paradox, the holes. Fear is everywhere.
I can’t remember who gave me this ring. I tried to remove it but I am compulsed to put it back on. Take it off, put it on. It has meaning but I cannot grasp the essence of its power. I want to believe it was given to me out of love but I fear it was given to me for reasons I need to know but cannot. Sometimes it is like I am living in someone else’s skin. I am layered. Everything of consequence hidden from me. From them?
There are 8,782 locks but only one Key. The buzzing seeks the key. Pernicious and Malignant One, it is she. I know it but there are holes in my mind and when I drift the holes fill with the incomprehensible. I speak words I don’t recognize. I hear myself, I am a stranger, a being out of space and time. I am not from here. Ravings of a lunatic mind.
Temporalis…Temporalis…time. They know. I will watch. And wait. Their knowing will come to me. Everyone disappears into Temporalis. Mortality rate unusually high. Look for the lie. Are they dead? Or disappeared through time? The prison at the end of dreams holds many secrets and secret keepers. Where is the key? Could it be there?
I drift. Messages flow through my brain that I can’t understand. Equations. And then I look at the faces of my students. They are panicked, distraught, quizzical. They think I am diseased. But I am striving.
They came through the walls last night. They did not see me. But I saw them. They can be killed, I know how. Who do they belong to? Is she here? The execrable buzz, it is her. How do I know how? The voices from the future that I know but cannot know, say wait, the time will come. I want to have faith.
I was once a We. I feel it in my bones. Where are the others? Why did they desert me? Was I judged incapable of finding the missing piece – the key? Did I fail in my mission? The mission I can’t remember but feel driven to complete. The buzzing still haunts me. My mission and the buzzing feel One. A path to the Nefarious Fiend. Why?
Is it possible? It is not speed, but Rylan’s Paradox that will get me there. Einstein didn’t know about the holes. I have forgotten the book. Time dances in the book. I must work the problem. I see fragments like shattered glass. How to put the pieces back together? I remember the future. How is that possible? The holes are a like a vortex, dragging me further and further into insanity.
The Corporation knows. I smell the experiments. See their corrupt usage. I must act. But the man is smug and hides everything under a smile beneath a smile. How can I protect the children when there appears to be no danger? The wires carry truth bent out of shape. The children walk with fear in their eyes. How to stop their pain?
Why does no one talk about the ghosts? Am I mad? Why the earthquakes? No tectonic plates here. The ghosts walk when the ground shakes. I hear them. I know them. I dream memories but my memories are dreams. Impossible. A genetic memory, perhaps? Impossible. But the feeling is true. I knew them once, the ghosts. Broke bread with them. Fought at their side. Now they walk through me. And are deaf to my pleas.
Buzzing. I’ve heard that buzzing before. I know that buzzing. The buzz is the key. No. The key has disappeared. Disappeared? Stolen by the Villainous One? The buzz is important. Where have I heard it before? I follow it. Down hallways. It is evil. I must destroy it. Who do I think I am?
Time portals >> The Atlas >> Miss Bugly: What does it mean??? Who am I?