1. Is this the start?

Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep.

"Shut up."

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.

"Should've brought my umbrella."

The rain fell ever so subtly, hard and destructive but at the same time so soft. He hated the rain however, the loud sounds made him angry for reasons he didn't remember. He also hated himself for reasons he didn't remember. He forgot his umbrella.

He had one friend he could really confide in, he forgot his name however. He actually forgot where his friend lived, the same as the last time they met. But he knew he had a friend that he used to hang out with every day. "At Hannah's bar."

He walked down the road as the rain beat him to a pulp, the brilliant showers felt fake and pretentious. He had no idea why he said or felt like this, it wasn't as if he knew any other forms of rain but... He just felt this way.

He didn't know where his parents were, not that he forgot but he simply grew up without them. All he could remember from his childhood was what seemed like Pluto falling out of the sky and bible scriptures floating in the air.

He read the Bible but he didn't believe in it, he understood that you should be kind and follow laws but he didn't force himself to believe that there was a place that only the righteous would go to when they died.

"Should get some groceries before lock up."

He walked toward a store looking for something to eat, his doctor had said he had dementia or amnesia. One of the two, or in his case maybe both, because he actually forgot his favorite meal. He grabbed noodles off the shelf and walked toward the shopkeeper.

He had a lot of money but he couldn't remember amassing it, but even with that all that wealth he still went to work. It made him happy, it made him useful. Probably because it was the only piece of information he still remembered.

"You okay?" The shopkeeper asked him as he dropped the noodles on the counter. "You've been out for a while, You sure you okay John?"

Other than this moment right now, he couldn't remember the last time someone called his name. "John... John Billoway."

"You sure you okay dude?" The shopkeeper put the items in a bag and passed them over to him.

"I'm okay. I just... can't remember... I'm sorry who are you?" John couldn't remember one thing about this person, his voice, facial expressions. Nothing rang a bell.

"They got you too... fuck... you know what just... just go home for now." The shopkeeper looked around as if he was hiding from something before coming closer to John and whispering into his ear. "Stay by your door, I'll be there by nine... we have to talk."

John walked out of the store and walked back home more confused than he was when he stepped in. His house was surprisingly large but the insides weren't as... exquisite.

The living room was huge, but the only thing in it was one chair and a television from the '90s, his room had a king-sized bed in it but no pillows or anything else and every other room was either empty or locked with a code that he didn't remember.

He didn't have a proper kitchen either, he really wondered what kind of man he was because he lived so weirdly. His kitchen had a small gas cooker that a regular-sized human being would have to bend down to use. One plate, one spoon, fork and a knife.

He cooked a meal consisting of only the noodles and the spices that came with before walking back to the living room, he wanted to lock his door and call the police just in case anything would happen. But on one side. He wanted to meet the shopkeeper. To hear what he had to say.

He waited for hours till it was nighttime, staring at the door like it was a clock. Watching, waiting. Till he heard a gentle tap on the door. "Hmm."

It wasn't loud enough to be a knock, meaning it could've been a raccoon or the wind. But this was just his fear talking, and he didn't listen.

John got up from the chair and walked toward the door. He hesitated to open it but eventually he did anyway, he pulled the door open from the latch and looked outside. There wasn't anyone there. "Must've been the wind." John stepped back into his house and immediately he pulled the door back what seemed like a leg was pushed into the house stopping the door from closing.

"I saw someone, had to go around back." The shopkeeper said and John opened the door again.

The shopkeeper wore a large coat that shielded him from the rain and what John thought to be 'prying eyes' given the context of the visit.

"You still live like this, I know you said you wanted to have no attachments to this place but isn't this a bit too much? Or less? I don't really know what to classify this as." The shopkeeper remarked as he looked at the state of the room.

"Who are you? You seem to know a lot about me- or you seem to say you know a lot about me but I don't even remember jack-shit about you." John said as he followed the dripping-wet man into his living room slightly aggravated about the water that stained his floors.

"Look, my name's Henry." The shopkeeper took his coat off and dropped it on the floor.

"Henry..." John fell back and hit the wall. "Fuck... my head hurts..."

"It should be coming back to you now." Henry closed the blinds on all of the windows that faced the roadside. "Do you remember Hannah's place?"

"Your... your my best friend."

"In the flesh..." Henry walked toward John and put a hand on his back. "Look... shits going down here... this town, this city. This place... once 'they know you know' they'll erase every memory you have."

"What do you mean, what are you talking about- who are you talking about."

"It's not an individual but they're known as the hand of order, they keep us in this zoo- feeding us lies and making us go about our days while we can't even comprehend the full picture of the world we live in."

"Fuck... who am I seeing... who's this kid... in white... with brown messy hair," John said clawing at his hair.

"That's... That's Annabel... your daughter." Henry said as he bit his lower lip. "We were supposed to get out man- it wasn't supposed to end like this."

"What are you talking about? I... I never had a kid."

"Don't worry, you'll remember everything eventually. But for now just-" Henry paused midway through his sentence as he heard a knock on the door.

Both John and Henry stood still for what seemed like thirty seconds after the knock on the door, neither of them moving even the slightest muscle. "Are you expecting anyone?" Henry whispered to John but John shook his head.

"It's them... fuck, they know I'm here." Henry clawed at his hair.

"Who?" John whispered back.

"I'll go out from the back, you'll open it later and PLAY DUMB do not act as if you know anything. I was never here." Henry walked toward the back door and John followed him.

"Who's at the door?" John asked still whispering.

"Probably an envoy from the hand, I don't know the entire details but you do. Everything they're planning is in that head of yours, all you need to do is remember." Henry pushed the door open and walked through it. "Remember, I was never here."

Taking multiple hard breaths, John tried his best to keep his breathing and his head in check. Both of which were giving him a tough time to control. Slowly but surely he walked toward the door but he couldn't bring himself to open it.

The only memories that had come back to him at this point were the memories of a young girl in a white sundress and if Henry was telling the truth. Then that was his daughter. John opened the door and peered through, there was no one there so he quickly shut it.

"Must've been a raccoon or something. I should still be able to catch up with Henry if I run." Immediately John turned around to head toward the back door he bumped into something and was pushed back.

"Hello, Mr. Billoway." A tall man in a black suit said in a gentle voice, he wore a mask over his face that was the same color as his suit with the only part of the suit that wasn't black being the index finger on the glove.

"Who are you- how did you get into my house?" John said startled.

"You know, the troubles people face are most often brought upon themselves. You would have been a normal person that led a normal life. Had you not opened your door for a rambling stranger. But of course, it's not as if you don't have a tendency to do so. This isn't our first time meeting after all."

"I don't know what you're talking about. There was never anyone in my house today." John said adhering to the advice Henry gave him.

"I see. So who owns the coat on the ground." The man in black pointed to the wet coat that was dropped by Henry earlier.

"Fuck." John thought to himself before saying. "It's mine, it's my coat. I forgot my umbrella."

"I see. So you'd even lie for a man you just met. Well, that just proves to show"

"If you're done now. Please, leave my house." John pointed at his door.

"True I'm sorry for my... overstay. However, I have one last question Mr. Billoway. Do you know this man?" The man in black snapped his finger and another man dressed the same as he burst through the door holding Henry like a rag-doll. "Looks like it's the end of the road."

Shocked, John paused for a moment not saying a word. "I- I've never seen that person before in my life."

"There's camera footage of you seeing him about three hours ago but let's not talk about that." The man in black pulled out a gun and shot Henry between the eyebrows. "You know, death is the end for most people in this world. But for you? Ohhh you're a pesky one. We haven't found a way to end you completely so for now we'll just make sure you forget this ever happened."

"Wait, are you the ones that have been erasing my memories? Why are you doing this." John shouted.

"Even if I tell you the answer to that, you'd forget it in an hour. So for now. Goodnight... Mr. Billoway." There was a loud bang in the room and that was where John's memory ended. Ending with a bullet in his skull and blood on his floors. He hated loud sounds.