The Reason to His Madness

Writer’s Note

First I must say: You cannot conform to society if you want to be a writer. For years I have seen the unseen, heard the unspoken and felt feelings that supposedly have never been felt. I define society as a unit within a populated location that is subjected to common daily rituals. However, for the individuals purposely selected to build our tomorrows, we must be able to see more than the day-to-day task. Throughout all the places I’ve visited there is a sense of togetherness, much like a family. This is a good thing if you have a good family. Let us face it. There are good families that believe in God, there are good families that do not, and there are families that believe in devil worship. Please do not tell me that you are surprised.

My point is truly quite simple. There are just too many variables, too many reasons why, and the poor soul needing to pick one is a lost soul. Most of us are lucky. Our parents were the strong influence (perhaps border line brain-washed) who instilled in us our primary beliefs during the early stages of life. This influence causes us to naturally assume and understand certain ways of worldly living. This can be a good thing, if you learn completely and with entirety. But just imagine for a minute that they are wrong, not about something, but about everything. Let’s say that what is truly important in life is not what we as humans do, but why we do them.

Knowing that there are always consequences to all that we do, we should have greater understanding behind the meaning of that which we do. We should also consider the effects those consequences will have on others and the consequences that others will have on us.

You must be twisted to be a writer. What does this mean? Or perhaps the question should be: “Why does he say this?” It’s simple. You, the writer, the actor, or the singer are the twisted soul because you must take society apart and delve into its method of reasoning. The final product of that tormented soul is music or literature. Getting into the mind of an artist is a deep subject - a maze, if you will. And the only tour guide is the composer himself. I would like to clarify that I don’t believe man has the power of creation. You might say that the argument is of a semantic nature and has no direct importance to your life. However, how many arguments could you have personally avoided had you known or understood the true origin or content of the argument? The only true creator is woman. Sometimes I believe man has forever been so jealous of her, that he has manipulated vast opportunities to punish woman.

No! I am merely a composer, secretly watching matters from the corner of my eye. I have truly been there, to those places I often mention. I have touched the soil and spoken to the people. I have lived among the people. I know that there is a dark side of truth. A dark side of truth that is powerful and disturbing. And thus the question arises, “If you really knew who you were, would you be afraid of yourself?” The most innocent of actions can be the most terrifying, if you were to wear the shoes on the other foot.

The stories I compose are not of what but of why. I refuse to write of what my characters are about, but I merely show why they have done the things they have. So, when you find yourself involved with them and torn by the things they do, it is only because you have touched that dark side of truth, the one we are so often afraid to admit exists.

Life is indeed short, and perhaps I shall die - unknown. But I have seen that dark side of truth and it has awakened me. Each night I pray for morning. Each night I check the closet and under my bed. Each night I ask God to watch over me, because there are things of this world I’ve yet to understand.

The reason that I write is not to make “THE GREAT.” I would like for the world to understand that we truly do not know the things we believe we know, until you’ve looked into the eyes of history. We cannot come to understand these things until we have been part of that which we fear. I ask that as a society, as needed a thing, we should be more understanding of each other, while defending the world we live in and the ones we love. I ask that we press on until death with honor and pride.

[G-MAN dialogue begins]

The sun dwindles on the horizon, like a playful child waiting to see what lies within the secret shadows of the night. I can hear the sun whispering secrets into the twilight. With very deep and profound attention, the twilight listens and carries on as it has done for so many millions of years. Still like a foolish child, the sun asks about the night as if asking for the first time ever. When dawn appears the moon will ask the same of the day. The dawn will listen as her brother does and the cycle will continue as it has for so many millions of years. I believe that once, a very, very long time ago both the sun and moon were lovers inter-twined by some mystical force. Perhaps it was love or perhaps harmony. What love so pure could hold these two forces together? I don’t know.

I know though, that when the moon appears there will be other things to come. I know that now. But believe me, I didn’t once upon a time. It is true that between the shadows creep things humans cannot come to comprehend. And for those who believe in these things, I fear the worst. For they are the unfortunate casualties of a silent war. I refer, of course, to the war between the good and the evil.

I don’t know how or where this all began. I guess I should say that I don’t know exactly. I only know a few of the names and a few of the places. However, I know someone that may have the answers. It is to my fortune that she favors me. I would fear the wrath of her kind - if I were at opposites.

To whom am I referring? Her name is Nicholetta Rumanni, though I know her best as Nichole. My name is Patrick Hoover. The network calls me the G-man. I was the best at my field. That is, until I met Nichole. Frankly she fascinates me. But I won’t tell you about that. I would rather you find out for yourself whenever you have the misfortune of meeting her. She chases criminals, gangsters, power mongers, and political figures. She is the best at her profession, but with a greater advantage. Her skills are totally unmatchable and her methods are unpredictable. Let’s see. Where do I begin?

How about filling you in on some of the details. Why don’t I start with the date? It is August 10th, 2090. Technology has been downplayed severely today. But that wasn’t the case in 2072. The streets were hot with techno-drug. That is the slang term for technological over-load. The world had become a terrible danger to itself. Technology was an inconceivable cyber-organism. But you can’t say that all these things have materialized overnight. The late 20th century led the world into an angry state. Road killings were taking the lives of the weak. Pop music had turned youthful resources into a brainwashed culture. Individuality was replaced by a stereotypical null-like state. It was as though humanity was dead. The world gave way to selfish pride and inferiority complexes clashed against the empowered. It was like someone flipped the switch and all the nerds came to power, becoming suddenly popular.

You may think that this is humorous, perhaps even ridiculous to mention. Perhaps I would agree, if the world hadn’t changed so radically. Technology advanced at a quickened rate. It was so competitive that one week’s newest discovery was the next week’s obsolescence. It led the country into technological saturation. With only a handful of individuals to protest, the technically inclined destroyed humanity. It is true that humans exist but humanity is gone. The boundaries that were once so important for the balance of the universe were then fading into the blue seas of terror. When a scattered handful of people formed an alliance against the world, it seemed an effortless task. They bonded with other individuals throughout remote locations, sharing the same distorted view of the world and formed Group 52. Blinded by power and money the small handful of humans grew into a most powerful organization. When the world calendars introduced the year 2006, a man named Anderson Wilkons formed a unified super-power called Group 52. Wilkons, a priest empowered by the Priesthood of the Third Division, persuaded other divisions and commoners of the Reality Churches to join forces throughout the world. Their mission was simple. Empowerment. Some rumors have it that he is dead. Still, other rumors have it that he has become a product of his own creation. Encased in a formidable armored shell, it is said that he can live forever.

Near to more recent times, life has evolved once again. The potomems that once occupied the world are becoming more educated, but they have a long way to go. Ask yourselves, “What would an 18th century man do with the technology of nuclear missiles? And what would he do if he could reproduce that technology? Worse yet, ask yourselves if his enemies would stand a chance.”

Group 52 has grown to be one of the most powerful components of the world to date. Very few agents have been able to escape the organization once they were committed to a ring of espionage. Most of them are either dead or deep underground assassins. Others have gone to other countries, forming devastation groups with the idea that they can bring balance to the world. China and Japan, though united with the U. S., have experienced problems of their own. Large sectors of the Asian population have protested the union of the greater powers. Rumor has it that an underground rebellion has created a new secret weapon. It seems that late in the 20th century, the Department of Defense, in combined efforts with the Supreme Court, were forced to pass the Technology Evolution’s Act (TEA). Pushed by the Cyber-Trash, the empowered nerds opened the world to their current threat. Placing aside their differences, China, Japan and the US have built an underwater city. With a great fear of being attacked by Biological Warfare weapons, they retreated to the depths of the sea. A wise choice since XV-35 could not be used on underwater targets. XV-35 is what they are currently speaking through the secretive vines of the underground. The weapon is said to send out an alternating low frequency wave that disrupts the cells of the human brain. The victim suffers a small headache seconds before his brain collapses in on itself. No one knows what the weapons look like. They only know the names of its victims claimed during the testing period.

Today every organization is secretly collecting any type of information about the silent killer that affects only humans. XV-35 was the hottest weapon on the market. Every nation wanted their blood soaked hands on it. Prototypes were found in the form of police P-876 riot control rifles. Later it was found in simple

objects such as pens and wristwatches. The poor souls that were unlucky to have survived attacks have been left with less than a breathing carcass, kept alive only for experimental purposes. “Retirement” of these so-called “experimentals” is only after their brain has collapsed. Word on the street is that the weapon cannot be perfected with the current solid state or cube technology. But, that has never stopped the Chinese. It is common knowledge that underground movements such as this have unpredictable patterns of behavior. The word on the street is that they are close to perfecting the technology.

In an open response to the sudden fear, kept quiet within walls of government houses, the World Unity Alliance has created a tactical unit called the Black Shield. BS is a world wide and highly secured organization operating on their own counsel. Licensed to kill and armed only with cutting edge technology, the secret and unseen Black Shields are the only adversaries that Group 52 fears. For fear of revealing their strengths and weaknesses, assassins are often sought to clean up the messy political system, opening one of the oldest professions known to our beloved world. Between the cracks of this confused world lurks another enemy. Though a new enemy, it is also ironic that this enemy is the only chance humanity has.

Rumors have said that they are as unseen as the shadows that lurk between night and day. They are as old as time and as powerful as all of man’s technology. It has been told that they are the only creatures on Earth that have the ability to defy humanity and their weapons of mass destruction. At first I wouldn’t have believed it either. But after meeting Nichole, I am apt to think anything is possible.

This new world technological advancement is the most impressive advancement witnessed since the U.S. put a man on the moon. I read in one of those old dusty books a quote that ironically set the tone for our era of new discovery: “If we can put a man on the moon, we can do anything.”

My God! If those poor people of long ago only knew where that has brought us, they would have been more careful. Perhaps they would have kept music and art ahead of technology. But you and I both know that the world is about money and wherever that green is, is where you’ll find most people of wealth running. I used to be that way myself, until Nichole happened. Until I got a bullet lodged in my stomach. I remember that night well. I was told a story that would forever change my life and make me a prisoner of her cause.