View Full Version : Trapped

10-15-2010, 06:12 PM
Lawl, this is just the first page of my Manson fanfiction. Can't find another decent place where to put it.

The woman, who was mentioned in a certain musician's book, Blanche Barton, was sitting calmly while looking over at a man. Others were looking at him as well. However, some were reading LaVey's book, while waiting for the service to start.

Meanwhile, the mysterious man felt an itch right by his eye. Dammit, he thought. He carefully rubbed his eye smearing a bit his eyeshadow a bit on his finger-cut out gloves. For fuck's sake, why couldn't anything go RIGHT for once?

Peter Gilmore the High Priest looked over the audience in the Church today. He spotted the man sitting near the middle of the congregation and happily glared at him. The make-up wearing man (along with his lipstick) was no doubt the most famously known rocker, even slightly, involved with the Church. Not hard to spot him...Peter thought.

The rocker looked up from studying one of the bulletins he picked up. Noticing Peter staring at him, the rocker thought back to the ceremony, once his best friend gave him that certain crimson card. Peter was just a common member of the Church...younger too; the sentence formed inside his mind. "Anton's wife---no, future second wife, who gave birth to Zeena was there..." he mumbled to himself, while his eyes darted over to the location to his far left. The aforementioned child was across from his pew--- a blond girl, now matured as as an adult.

The rocker snapped out of his thoughts, when he heard Peter start the service. The High Priest he first heard in such a long time, sounded almost foreign. The Priest exclaimed, "...and here is the most truest form (possible) for individuality---Reverend Marilyn Manson!"

The rocker stood up, squeezed by a few people, and walked up the aisle while the small audience applauded and a couple of people whistled. Some sighed. The famous Reverend took his place behind Peter's podium, smirked knowing the all-too-familiar applause from concerts.

"Now...Listen. We need to keep together." He paused, looking around. The Church was run-down, ever since that all religions and philosophies are 100% banned by the government. "We might be the last once of hope and individuality left. For good. Hell, I couldn't even read up on either the Bible, or LaVey's books to form my own interpretation without being tazered half-to-death by a government official!!"

He reached into his black suit jacket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and showed it to the small crowd. "Do you know what this is, motherfuckers?"

A few hands and arms rose. Marilyn pointed to one.

"A page of Nietzsche?" One person, in the front row, answered.

"No." The important individual sighed, knowing it wasn't. "This-" He uncrumpled the paper. "-a page from the Bible. I know some of you are upset. BUT. This is the last piece of anything dealing with religion or philosophy--- possibly even history! Would you want to keep a piece of paper that represents freedom of thought?!"

Majority of the crowd nodded after deciding for a couple of minutes. The disagreement party walked out of the broken-down church. "Fuckin' idiots..." Marilyn whispered.

Before he could even continue, police sirens became louder as they echoed throughout the building. Everyone froze. Sweat dripped down the rocker's face. He quickly stuffed the Bible page back into his suit jacket. He smoothed out the red shirt underneath and straightened out his black tie, trying to look calm as possible.

A flashback took him back where several religious' bands (including Satanist, Buddhist, and any other) were burned. Even the misunderstood bands were classified as philosophical badly in nature---especially his own. He was thrown in jail for a month and half, just for causing so much controversy back then in the late '90's. The rocker shuddered.

Everyone drew out a sigh of relief, as they heard the sirens go further and further away.

Marilyn looked out every window to see if the police were definitely gone. They were. However, when turning away from one of the half-remaining windows, he heard a slight tear and felt pain. His vision jolted to the area---his forearm. A cut about two inches wide was pouring blood slowly, without too much pain.

"Allright, this meeting's prematurely closed until next time a---"

"WAIT!" A lone voice called out.

Marilyn froze. "What?" He looked over with confusion.

Tell me what you think of it so far. :)

10-18-2010, 07:04 AM

“I’m a doctor, I can help you with your arm. Even check if any glass is present. Hehe, I have the new X-ray mini-scanner for it as well.”

The Reverend sighed. “How much? That’s always a catch…”

“Just $500.”

He walked over, taking off his jacket. As the nurse gave him a look, he sighed. “Fine. But it’s fuckin’ freezing in here. Couldn’t you just work anyway on it?” She shook her head. He loosened his tie and put it next to his jacket. As soon as he had thrown his red shirt onto the pile, his arm was already getting scanned and picked at.

She smiled. “Nothing is in it from this angle.” She moved the scanner around Marilyn’s arm 360 degrees, stopping it afterwards. A worried expression crawled onto his face. She dug out a medium-sized piece of glass. It finally turned off, relieving him. Hell, a knife in someone’s arm while the person wasn’t on anesthesia? The others didn’t blame him for being afraid.

“Allright, the cost is $2,000 now.”

The rocker glared at her angrily. “What the fuck? Why?!”

“Because I got to clean it out and whatnot.”

He sighed again for the third time. This is going to be more painful than he thought. Soon, outsiders of the church heard a small yell.

Time passed, and the whole bandage and cleaning process was done, leaving a very shaking Reverend and rest of the small group of congregation members.

The Reverend shuddered as he put back on his clothes. “And they say there’s never a catch with nice people…damn, you better hope that stitching’s well done…you just had to put it in a shape of a star.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, there was a loud noise at the entrance of the building. Chaos broke loose soon afterwards. Smoke everywhere, the group was now running frantically around, and, most importantly, police sirens and radios were going off. Marilyn took the nurse’s arm and shouted, “Every man for himself!” With that, he ran off, going back out of the sanctuary, taking a left and nearly tripping half-running down stairs. “Fuck…”

“I’m Carissa, by the way…” The nurse whispered seductively when they were downstairs.

“Heh…You’re not getting laid…I’m in a damn relationship,” he answered back, while she was stroking his leg. “Ugh…” He stretched and backed up against the nearest wall, leaving Carissa to back away a bit. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

Carissa looked up towards the entrance. “Well…I don’t know. What do you do in situations involving the police? If you ever did, that is…”

Marilyn moved further back in the cluttered cellar and slid down a wall, and sat down nervously.

Meanwhile in the church, majority of the LaVey lovers were caught by the police, all except for Peter and Zeena. They had barely escaped, as the police were quite cunning in their tactics. Their running had soon become walking after getting a half-mile away.

“Come with me to my place, you can stay there as I have a specially-design security system.” Peter put his arm around Zeena as a sign of good intention. Some people watched as the blonde woman followed the aging man down the sidewalk briskly.

While they walked, Peter could tell Zeena was battling something inside. She had a worried expression. Something in Peter told him it had to do with the big handful of arrests at the church. As soon as the door opened and closed at his house, he asked her what was wrong.

“Well…” She thought about him for a moment after uttering the small word. They’ve always been close friends, especially after her father died. He’s always cared. He was someone she could trust during this time. “You know my husband, Nickolas?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“He was captured. They might hurt or torture him. However, he’ll only be in prison for a month. That’s the congregation’s punishment for being in a church…Oh, Nickolas…” Tears were coming down her cheeks. They both embraced in a hug.

“Don’t worry.” Peter tried to reinsure her.

Marilyn calmly, as possible, peered outside of the cellar as a long time had already gone by. The thing right in front if his vision wasn’t something he had expected. It was a daring site---cross necklaces dangling from three Christians’ necks.

“Umm…” Th rocker looked left confusingly. “Wha---” There was definitely trouble.

The next thing he knew, officers grabbed the three (supposedly) brave individuals. He thought it was a case of stupidity. Not even bothering to watch what will happen with those three, he took the stairs once again.

“HEY!! Get back here!” Another officer yelled from behind the Christian arrest. He dodged his fellow policemen, and ran after his target in the cellar.

“Shit.” The Reverend ran deeper and deeper into the cellar, while shoving objects (boxes, shitty book) behind him. Unfortunately, he tripped. Feeling blood running down his face, he picked himself up and continued. Surprised, he screeched to a halt. The officer was right in front of him.

10-18-2010, 07:04 AM

Turning away but not quick enough, he felt the officer’s hands on his wrists. The officer smirked. “Gotcha.”

He pulled out an object. Marilyn’s eyes widened. A sudden shock of electricity went through his body as the cop put the object near his stomach area. That’s the worst pain in the world…Already experienced from the ‘controversial punishment’…thoughts that were going through his head. The rocker’s stomach felt numb as rest of his body felt tingly. The effort to run away went away. The effort to stand up went away. Next thing he saw was black.

He woke up. He was in a jail cell, but not the normal ones known to a man a year ago. There was an electric surge constantly going off on the door area. Oddly, a TV was also in the room. He was confused. Walking over to the bathroom, he noted it didn’t change from before---still a combination toilet/sink. The man’s been in a modern cell. Only the cold, dark room he had experienced from those controversial times onstage.

The bastards had starved him, as if he didn’t lose enough weight when he decided to quit drugs. He had nearly OD’ed again---just like way back then. He had nearly gone insane being in that horrible room, once. Does he have to be transferred over to the location again? Or not? He shuddered. A poke touched his shoulder. Other inmates heard/seen the concerned rocker jump nearly a foot off the ground.

Once the frightened man, he looked over to the other man. It looked like the guy was a robber or something. He had a beanie, sneaky eyes, and an overweight body. Marilyn was confused. The man had his regular clothes on instead of the average orange jumpsuit prisoners wore. Outreaching his arm across his vision, he saw his red, silk shirt sticking outside of his black suit jacket.

“How are you doing?” the other man spoke. The rocker noticed the man had a right lazy eye. The man noticed the rocker put something in one of his black shoes.

“Uhh…Allright, I guess.” Marilyn shrugged. “Who’re you?”

“Jack. I’m Jack. I used to be a pastor before all this crap happened. How about you? Who are you?”

“Well, I---”

Before he could finish his sentence, two guard appeared before the cell door. “Marilyn Manson, come with us, please.”

The rocker gulped. Several things went through his mind. What if they put him into the black room again? What if they did their shock treatment, like he’s heard from others? Or worse, what if they found the remaining page in his suit jacket?! Hesitantly, he stood up and walked over to the guards. As they held him with interlocked arms walking down the hall, sweat was running down the Reverend’s forehead. People around him whispered all kinds. His heart was almost thumping by now. He could tell they were concerned as well.

They led him to a small, plain room. No pictures, no equipment, no symbol of expression in the room. Nothing but a light shining on the table and two chairs positioned at the table. It was an interrogation room. “Great,” Marilyn mumbled. He sat down at one of the chairs. He soon found he couldn’t move much.

“Isn’t this great? A great room?” A guard asked.

“Sure!” The rocker said sarcastically. “Story of my life…Recently, anyway.”

“The interrogator will come in shortly, to talk to you about that page.” Marilyn’s eyes widened realizing the severity of the situation. He got up from his chair but found it to be chained to the floor and as well as his wrists to the arms of the chair. An intense scowl crawled onto his face.

“Yikes…” The younger guard felt a chill down his spine. As he noted a smirk on the rocker’s face as well, he leaned over to him. “You won’t be such a hothead if they decide to take you to the Memory Chamber.” With that statement, he motioned for the other guard to follow him.

As soon as the rocker knew the two men left, his expression softened just by a bit. Nonetheless, he was still angry. He squirmed around in the chair, trying to find a flaw in its security system. The words, ‘memory chamber’ slowly started to echo through his mind. What did THEY mean? What’s going to happen to ME?! WHY D---

A loud door slam interrupted his multiple thoughts. He looked up and noticed his hands were clutching his head. He quickly put his hands down in his lap. “Hello, nice weather we’re having, no?”

The man who was going to question him was not amused. He had a buzz-cut, which his hand itched. It was covered in dandruff. He was worried, even if it was a small problem compared to this situation. An individual could really hurt the whole operation. “Don’t get cocky. You are in deep, deep trouble.”

The rocker thought over his options. A good, desperate blind answer would be excellent. “Right.”

“Take out the page.”

He froze. “Why.”

“TAKE OUT THE PAGE.” The anger rose up in him.

Marilyn reached into the inside of his suit jacket. To lay it down? Or taunt him with it? Deciding to lay it down, he put it on the table. “There.” It couldn’t be helped---a sneer crept onto his face.

“Sir---” A voice entered the room. “---IQ: 120-125. Many contacts, even online. His website and fansites all have been eliminated.”

Marilyn looked up angrily. “You got rid of Nick? His website?!”

The voice came from a scientist. He looked down. “You’re not supposed to be listening.”

10-18-2010, 07:07 AM
Pg.4--Last page 'til I type up more.

“What do you mean…” the interrogator started. “You know what, I’ll take care of you later. I need to handle a very powerful individual right now.”

“Fine. But he thinks for himself.” With that, the scientist walked out of the room.

The man’s eyes widened. That’s quite a dangerous quality. He turned back to the Reverend.

“Look, this is just a page, right?” The man smiled.


Just a page. A page with no meaning, RIGHT?” He sent a shock over to the rocker.

“NO.” He fought back the pain.

“Look, it’s just a page WITH RANDOM WORDS, right?” Another, yet stronger, electrical current was sent.

“You are what you should fear…and NO!” The pain was unbearable. However, he knew he would never give up.

The man with the buzz-cut sighed. Do you like ice cream?” He thought about if this tactic could work to persuade him---giving him some material possessions. First, something simple.

“No, I don’t.” He smirked inwardly. If he could just keep up the level of individuality, and piss them off…an execution would result. Millions of people would be aware of him being on death row, oppressed fans would lash out in anger. Hopefully, cause a revolution. The government---whatever a government is these days---couldn’t cover up a major celebrity death just yet.

The man quizzed on many other foods, bunch of money, and even the remainder of shallow-music left over. Marilyn even said no to women, Absinthe, more women, a new car, and finally stopped there.

“How about…a LaVey book? All you have to do, is say that the page is bullshit, and means NOTHING.”

“That would defeat the purpose of your little control game, wouldn’t it?” He couldn’t help to smirk, especially at the sudden double standard.

“Release the gas. I have another plan, besides the execution he was---”

Last thing he heard was something about memory modification. The objects and voices got fuzzy real fast as smoke was released through the dark ceiling. He struggled to keep awake, but the effort was useless.

“---hoping. Drag him into the Memory Chamber, We’ll edit his memory, as well as his IQ, slightly. We can only suppress the intelligence though.”

His head ached as he woke up. What right in front of him scared the hell out of him. All kinds of scientists were gathered and throughout the room, while the room had test tubes and all kinds of scientific equipment. There were the words right in line with his sight: Memory Chamber. He struggled, but realized they had bound him down. Tears and black eyeliner started to go down his cheeks. “Fuckkk…If you do ANYTHING, I’ll---”

“---shock you?” A ascientist chuckled. He walked over next to the rocker and pulled on a switch. “To think we did this to Pat Robertson…This is way more worth it!”

A helmet soon moved onto Marilyn’s head. Suddenly, his life flashed before his eyes---His first steps, all the fun with Chad, screwing around in Heritage Christian School, that angel in clouds photo, spying on his grandfather, discovering music, doing Magick with John Crowell, getting laid in 10th grade, reading books on all kinds of different religions and philosophies, and most importantly: experiencing reverend status, friends with Anton LaVey; something that propelled his legendary myths, and the famous status and helped him to become an influence to many, many, many teenagers. The best quality he had was only known to fans: being able to think for oneself.

The shock rocker yelled as everything went black.

Meanwhile, the man who questioned the Reverend, walked over to the scientist who was working on the same person’s helmet. He ordered, “I want him to have an IQ of 105. Suppressed, of course. The education needs to be modified. His relationship with music needs scraped completely. Make his favorite show appear on CourtTV, or whatever shows that could inspire his new desire to become whatever he becomes. His career has made him well-know, because he is highly recommended by multiple people (whose memories will be modified) and is known to do a very well-done job. Oh---and do throw in some memories that’ll make him far more likely to conform to society norms and whatnot, and go along with other’s thoughts a HELL LOT easier.”

The scientist wrote down what he needed to. He was confused, and froze. “Wait…”

The interrogator looked up at him, from the rocker’s paper records. “Yes? And by the way, we’ve taken care of the ‘star stitching’…made it normal.”

“Shall we get his girlfriend, and tell her he’s a---”

“Yes. You’ll only need to modify her memory ever so slightly.” He shuffled through the papers, scattering them around on a table. “Where’s his Reverend papers---and more importantly, where’s his fucking membership card?!?! Nonetheless, if anyone sees it (including his friends and family), we can take it then. Later, that is. He won’t know what it’s for, anyway…And spray him down with ‘A Shower in a Can’.”

Suddenly, a week passed. The rocker stirred from his sleep. He rubbed his eyes and stretched around in a chair out of nowhere. Ah, the courtroom. So many clients had to be defended earlier today; he must have felt tired. The room was now empty, and flashes of what happened earlier went through his mind. “Ah, that’s right,” he mumbled.

10-18-2010, 06:04 PM
I like how you've infused biographical references with concepts that allude to movies like A Clockwork Orange, Total Recall, and the idea of secret behavioral modification corrections facilities in general. As we've discussed off of the forums, I really dig this, but do see where some revisions and touch ups could be made.

I also found some parts comical, such as all of the Manson fansites being shut down, and the stitching in the shape of a star. I was reading it and started singing under my breath "Whatever doesn't kill you is gonna leave a star." Also as I read, I discovered the subtle exposures and references to different Manson lyrics and imagery such as Manson running from the headless police officers in "I don't Like the Drugs (But the Drugs Like Me)", a lyric from GodEatGod "Before The Bullets, Before the Flies, before Authorities take out my eyes", the incident where Manson accidentally got glass into one of his arteries, and a littany of other details that could be accredited to this.

The one thing that I really can say that I like about this, and being able to read it, is that you've always said that writing is one of your weaknesses, and you decided to share it anyway. So, good job, and keep it up!

10-20-2010, 11:05 AM
^Haha, thanks Derek. <3

Actually, it's interesting how you were thinking I was alluding to Lyrics as well...


The person he had defended went through a pretty violent divorce. The person screamed how she wasn't treated with respect and was hit repeatedly by her ex-husband. She said how he was demanding all of her money from the bank, as he claimed half of it was his. The husband, on the other hand, said how she was spiraling down into insanity by slicing her wrists, trying to kill the cat they owned, and standing silently for long periods of time. Other situations for both sides popped up as well and were too numerous to count. Nonetheless, that was the longest case today. She won, and Marilyn got a small raise in payment for the job.

The thought were interrupted when a slight discomfort from his feet bothered him. He reached down, sighing slightly, and pulled off his shoe. A look of confusion soon formed on his face. A crimson card? And...a folded up piece of paper?

Putting the crimson card in his back suit jacket, he took out the paper and unfolded it. It was a note...From himself? He read it aloud to himself: "You won't know that this crimson card is a good item or bad item...anyway, I'm Brian Warner (I prefer to leave that name only), and never forget me...I'm solely responsible for individuality and thinking for oneself..." That's all he could read. The rest was scribbled so furiously; it was as if the author (or himself?) went insane by the end of the note. The end of the note was readable however, as it read: "Fuck it, fuck the 'government'."

That was slightly odd to the new lawyer. What was he (I?) trying to get across? What did THIS mean? Why was it written in this way? This all went through his puzzled mind, while he he reached into his jacket dragging out that card he just mysteriously found. It read: REVEREND MARILYN MANSON" and in the right corner, read: "Church of Satan---San Francisco, CA 90151."

He was extremely confused now. What is a church? And...what is a 'Satan'? Most importantly, who was Marilyn Manson? Was she an important person...? The word, "Reverend'', indicates an important position in a religion, whatever that was. It was as if his mind knew the answers, but the information was lost forever within his head. However, with Reverend on the card, he deducted 'Satan' and 'church' had to do with religion.Religion, however, was banned from the country about a year ago. He couldn't just ask someone and stupidly risk to be caught by the government. Apparently, simple discussion got you arrested. Watch the news nearly everyday and reading up on statistics told him this. Nonetheless, the former rocker knew the government had good intentions.

One day, while he was watching a crime show, a news bulletin suddenly came on, without warning right in middle of his show. The now sole ruler came onto the screen along with each ruler from each state, sitting on lower platform around the one, most important ruler. The sole ruler spoke; that fateful day: "I only have good intentions with this previously passed law. With this in place, we as a country can finally settle our differences [setting them aside], put an end to religious wars; clear our minds so we can think more about our educational paths. Who wouldn't want peace in this country? And don't forget to pick up the new book tomorrow all about this new policy! It'll only cost $9.95!"

This announcement was remembered by everybody---even the few people who had memory modifications later on. Everyone knew the book sold a record amount. It surpassed the---now defunct---Bible's sales in America. Marilyn didn't bother buying one on both paths of memory---too much of an individual back then and now too much of a blind sheep to question the leader's intentions.

This card could cause a lot of trouble. However, the lawyer couldn't help feel connected to this item. If it was going to be on him...he had to keep it hidden well. Getting out his wallet, he stuffed it right behind a family photo. The wallet was still out when he suddenly heard a voice.

"Brian! You did an awesome job defending that woman...I envy your skill." It was his fellow co-worker, Jason Newarkat. He and Jason went through law school together. They had many, many laughs and good times as friends, continuing through this phony-made day. His buddy walked right through the audience area and sat right next to him, and smirked.


Don't forget to leave some feedback. :)

10-26-2010, 01:52 PM
O.o I like!
The story is really interesting, makes me want to keep on reading it.
Also, as Shangs pointed out, I like the way you interweaved everything, and all the little references. :]
Keep on writting! :D

10-26-2010, 07:42 PM
Awww. Thanks! After all, this is my longest fanfiction not ditched quite yet. :P

Anyway, I'm gonna post a page either tonight, or tomorrow. It's been awhile since I've last posted a page, so enjoy.

10-26-2010, 09:28 PM
Pg.6, done again...

The Reverend couldn't help but to smile. "Heh...thanks. I do my best at these cases...did that sound too self-centered?" He looked over to his friend, concerned.

"Haha, not at all! It wasn't even self-centered. Aw, man, all these cases recently...especially on that law on banned religions and philosophies. I hate to fight against those people, but a law is a law. Luckily, only about 5% of all Americans decide to rebel. Two people, Peter Gilmore and Zeena LaVey, got sent striaght to jail yesterday for being a church, in San Francisco." He nodded. "They admitted to it yesterday."

"Ah." Wait...why do those names sound vaguely familiar? The former-rocker thought. "What church even?"

"Apparently, Church of Satan. Did you know police even caught a formerly-known rockstar? At least that's going around, it's not confirmed as fact yet." The Reverend saw the connection immediately---that crimson card.

"Rockstars are idiots. Well, some. Some bands are smart, today."

Jason nodded.

That night, Marilyn debated whether to go to the location in San Fransisco, or not to. "Well...It doesn't say you can't satisfy your curiosity..." He mumbled. He flipped through some other pages.

He finally caved in due to peer pressure from his friends to buy the sole leader's, known as ''the Big Bother'' or God or simply as the Ruler, book on the Religion Ban.

The whole trip to the huge city left the man in fear. Whether being arrested for having this odd card or just looking guilty for nothing, it could mean jail. He carefully walked around eventually finding the exact location; all because of the card. Worried about how Evan may feel when she'd get back from the vacation to Hawaii, he froze right in front of the run-down building. Here it is...the building...what the hell happened to it though? Thoughts ran through his troubled mind.

Completely forgetting a flashlight out of fear, he stumbled going up the remaining stairs to the building. However, a camera on his kitchen counter, he had remembered to grab on the way out.

Luckily, it was a full moon out, so he could see somewhat. Carefully, he moved further into the church sanctuary. The lawyer stopped. While in the middle of the room, he looked towards the altar and podium. Instantly, he felt drawn to the area. This podium...Was I here before? He thought.

A flash of himself walking down the aisle and taking the position at the podium, went through his mind very clearly formed as a...

MEMORY? Was this scene...made up? Was it just...a random thought? Besides, it wouldn't make sense if it was a memory.

Before he could even continue thinking about the scene, another popped up. The animation showed him at the stand, glancing over to a man with typical Pope-like robes, a determined look and a smile on his face, and a short beard. "You can begin, Reverend Manson."

The scene slowly faded into darkness.

It didn't make sense yet again! And...who was that man? Why the fuck was he having these...visions? Memories? Simply from the imagination? Yes. That makes sense. However, he was still drawn to this church. The lawyer decided to take a few pictures. The camera had a built-in light, so he can browse through the pictures in perfect-enough detail on the item. Wait...What was the purpose? Just because he imagined this bullshit? So be it. Why not? A connection somehow.

After taking the photos, he walked out to go back to the airport. The airport wasn't too far away at all. Right before entering the entrance for flight, he looked back towards that church, wondering, what the hell was going on. Walking foward, he went through the security gate and the waiting line for getting on the plane. As soon as he sat down in his seat, he sighed---and greatly confused. Worst of all, on top of it, he was extremely tired. Getting up for work at 7 am, he had already stayed up for 22 straight hours. As much as he wanted to fall asleep, the lawyer knew he couldn't. There was still rest of the flight, getting to his car, and driving home.

Phew. Typed it up twice, and I was sure this time to copy it before posting. o.o

10-28-2010, 06:06 PM

Lots and lots of coffee was needed. Also, compared to the 8 O'clock flight, this ride was extremely quiet. Hardly anyone was the first-class floor, right now. No noise.

The Reverend turned to a flight attendant. "Um, Miss?"

She was handing out Lobster dinner to another gentleman across from Marilyn's row of seats. She turned around slowly and gracefully towards him. "Yes, sir?"

"Could you get me two cups of coffee, please?"


Right in that moment of time, the lawyer saw himself make a speech about something related to the words, "last hope." The he asked others before him what a page in his hand was about. Once he un-crumpled the paper, it read something in the corner: 1 John. Following it was a stream of words, separated, by simply two columns looking like story out of a newspaper. After that, another speech followed. It was something about how---something---was a symbol for---something; half of it was fading while it was going on. Police sirens a crash integrated themselves into the fading scene. Wait...himself?

The man across from Marilyn patted his shoulder hard. "Hey! You okay?!"

The Reverend came back to reality. He found himself clutching his head, which was a bit wet. It was sweat. "Interesting..." He muttered. His hands went down to his sides. He glanced over to the man. It was an overweight redneck. He sighed.

"Yeah...I'm allright..."

The flight attendant came back with steaming cups of coffee. Marilyn smelled a sweet scent coming from the two cups---it was vanilla. His body, mind, and soul warmed at the heat. Finally, some heat. It was 30 degrees outside; also that temperature when he went into the Church. He froze out there, after awhile. "Thanks..." he said with a smirk.

In about a minute, the lawyer calmed himself, and decided to watch a movie. There were flat plasma-TVs on the wall in sight of the passenger seats, as it was First Class and all. He asked for the remote and soon watching a great movie---The Titanic.

The whole atmosphere was so warm and peaceful---he had a few laughs, felt wide-awake, sweet and outstanding coffee, sweets and foods together, and an amazing movie. Hell, even he and the redneck shared some sweets and foods together and became acquaintances. It was all fun and games, the plane arrived in Los Angeles.

The redneck turned to Marilyn. "I want to ask you something, once we're off the plane..."

The lawyer raised an invisible eyebrow. He only had no eyebrows, because (the modified memory allowed him to think) he had a physical disfigurement. However, the man really did it to himself, unknown to the new lawyer ever since the rule set in. A perfect characteristic for the rocker to be different, yet again. Now, he only felt sorry for himself for the difference---wondering why.

Once they both were in front of the airport, the lawyer turned to the other man. "What do you want?"

"Well..." The overweight man looked around nervously. "I know I shouldn't do this...but I'm such a huge fan of your work before the Ban happened a year ago. Can I have your autograph?"

Marilyn was confused. "What work? I'm the same after it as well!" He shrugged.

"No, you weren't. You did a great album, AntiChrist Superstar, and released High End of Low, about...a year and half ago. And your stage-name---"

At that moment, police rushed over to the redneck and stunned him. "Shut up! Criminal!" They yelled. One threw him into a police car nearby.

"Umm...what?" The hugest confused expression flashed across the Reverend's face that morning.

"This man...um, stole from a Rutter's down the street and one of the big banks from Nevada." With that, the officer went back to his car. The others drove behind the one officer's car. The police siren faded as they moved further and further away.

Kind of weird how police arrest a man about to reveal Marilyn's stage name, huh? :P

Anyways, leave feedback my readers.

10-30-2010, 05:17 AM
^ I love it so far!
I like all the suspence you're building up :)

10-30-2010, 12:53 PM
^ Awww, thanks, girl. :)
Much, much more to come, so stay tuned! I've already got up to pg.27 1/2 written. Though, I can't decide whtether to let something happen to Marilyn's Reverend Card or not...Writer's block. xD

10-30-2010, 03:32 PM
I wanna read the rest <3

11-01-2010, 08:59 PM
This would make a great episode of Law and Order "Hollywood". I like how this is progressing. However, just a bit of advise, you should include the band members, as comrades in the revolution against the tyrannical/evangelical mind erasers trying to capture and terminate Manson. They should have some part in the story as covert assasins who take out the "new rulers".

11-02-2010, 11:35 AM
^Thanks yet again. :)
And Hmmm...Like I said in MSN, maybe I will put in some of the band members, Or maybe a surprise former band member.;)

Pg. 8

The lawyer's thoughts went back to that one scene---where that man (him?) made a speech, then the siren passed by. He sighed. Rubbing his temple with his left hand, he walked over to his black car near the entrance of the airport. He opened the door and climbed in, while still in a good mood. Turning the vehicle on, he sped off into the distance.

Luckily the traffic didn't slow him down much. The man was eager to get home and sleep. While at a red light, he wanted to put the camera, which was in his jacket, into the glove department as it's a good area to store things that are important. He banged it open, and a couple of CDs came out. He put the camera in and slammed it shut. Before the Reverend could even get a look at any of the CDs, his cellphone rang. Grabbing an earpiece and its wire, he hooked it up to his phone. He simply talked into his headset, while he laid his phone on the passenger seat.

"Hello?" At that moment, the red light turned to green. The car gained speed as he took a left.

"What's up? It's Jason. You want to watch a movie, or hang out after work today?" He loved hanging out with Marilyn. They had such good times at parties, watching the X-Files, breakdancing at a local club, banging their heads to the music of today, amd much more. Out of all Jason's friends, Marilyn was the best to him.

"Aw, man...I can, for the might. Work, I can't. I got no sleep."

"Why not? And Mark, our boss, is going to be pissed. You've got an important case for today. More people admitted to be in a church---and having a worship service."

"I...explored that one church in San Fransisco---the one where the rockstar got arrested. By the way, who was the guy? Or girl? And...I really can't, I'm about to fall asleep, any moment now."

"Well, allright. I guess I'll have to tell him you won't be there...Anyway, I keep hearing around our workplace, it was some guy named Marilyn Manson. Apparently it's the same guy whose CDs mysteriously disappeared after the Ban went into effect...from many stores, that. I understand why. Full of religious references and full of philosophy."

The lawyer's eyes went wide. Holy shit...that's the same name on the crimson card I have...And his name's directly from that scene, I saw. That man said his name! These wildly went through his mind. "Wow..." he muttered to himself.

Brian? Brian! You still there?"

Marilyn snapped out of it. "Umm...yeah. Just a bit...spacey."

"You seem too out of it. I'll just talk to you later. Sleep well."


By the time he stopped talking, he was already at his house. He unplugged his phone and put it back into his suit jacket. He sighed and started to get out of his slick-black car, but the cd covers caught his attention---particularly the one with the angel on the front. Picking that one up, he opened it and let the cd booklet slide out. Opening it fully, he read some of the credits noting that name again: Marilyn Manson. The title of the work: Antichrist Superstar. Another name he instantly recognized---LaVey. Could that man be related to Zeena? The cd's title was the same as what that redneck talked about. And the most important thing---was that man saying...that the lawyer WAS that Manson guy? No, freak? The rocker had a girl's name! WTF!! His appearance felt familiar...

He put the other cd, apparently named Mechanical Animals, back into the glove compartment as he carried all of the 1996 cd---its case, cd, and booklet with him into the house. As he entered, he couldn't help wondering why he didn't buy a mansion. The man made quite a lot of money each year---$100,000. The house looked tiny and full of blackness. He shook his head. Too sleepy---now the man's seeing things.

Walking through a few rooms and going up the stairs, he just collasped onto his bed.


Don't forget to leave feedback.

11-02-2010, 04:50 PM

Later, a loud sound interrupted the Reverend's sleep. It was simply Jason's yelling that pierced the wonderful dream---he was the President of California, along with a free, fun-filled girlfriend and a million of philosophy books. The 41-year-old grumbled. The voice was right in the room, and confusion followed.

"What the fuck are you doing in my room, Jason?!"

"Haha...Evan let me in." He was just standing there, near the nightstand next to the bed. He was in casual clothes---a hooded sweatshirt and a pale blue pair of jeans.

"What? She's back?"

"Yeah, man! She can't wait to see you. Plus---we got to hang out once you eat something. Hehe, dinner."

Marilyn rolled over to see the clock. It read: 5:00 PM. A good 8 hours of sleep was achieved---his body finally felt allright. Grumbling, he got himself out of bed. He looked over to Jason.

"Umm...I'll need to get dressed. So...get out." The man smiled half-nastily.

"Allright! Sheesh..." He walked fast as he could out of the room.

As soon as the Reverend heard him going downstairs, he smirked. He took out his wallet and put it right next to him on the nightstand. Completely undressing, he took a towel and washcloth from a rack across the room. The water in his private bathroom started running soon.

Emerging from the bathroom, the man was wearing boxers. Getting a rock T-shirt on, he glanced into his pants drawer, noticing it was all leather. He didn't remember ever wearing leather, besides the jackets he always liked. Confused, he scowled. Looking around, he spotted some black jeans under his bed. Slipping them on, he raced downstairs after grabbing his wallet.

"Oh Evannn..." He said in a sexy voice.

The woman was serving some food to Jason and in a conversation with him. That suddenyl stopped when the lawyer's voice entered into the kitchen.

"Brian..." she said sweetly. She stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame.

Jason continued eating until he saw Marilyn enter into the room. The next thing he looked at was when both the lovebird's were embraced and kissing. The man pulled away, and grabbed a glass of orange juice on the table.

"I missed you , a lot, honey." He gave her a small kiss on cheek.

She blushed and giggled. "I did too."

Taking a seat, he observed all the food before him. It was an assortment of Chinese food and waffle4s with syrup. Licking his lipstick-free lips, he dug in.

He wouldn't allow anyone to talk to him, so Evan and Jason carried on a conversation about...something. He didn't really care. He was too hungry. But as soon as they mentioned Manson, he stopped all of a sudden. He looked up at them.

"What about him?"

Jason frowned. "Apparently, he got caught, being in that same church you were exploring last night. That's all we---the whole country---knows so far. New information, a fan may be put on trial in our building."

"Really?" He left to go upstairs.

"Huh...yeah. Wait---Why are you so int---" he stopped, and prepared to yell as Marilyn left. "INTERESTED IN THIS GUY?"

While upstairs, the former-rocker took a picture of the rocker, right besides the credits in the cd booklet, using his cellphone. He was careful not to get any of the nightstand in the photo. He shoved the cd items into the nightstand's drawer.

Sliding the phone into his pants pocket, he went calmly back downstairs.

11-07-2010, 10:39 AM
Pg. 10

Jason waited. He stared towards the doorway until his best friend arrived.

"Allright...I got an odd photo...I took while---" He quickly thought about whether to tell them the truth. He shook his head, mentally. "---I was on the plane. Some guy showed it to me." Getting out his phone, he scrolled to his pictures and stopped on the rocker. "Look."

Jason and Evan squinted at it. Marilyn eagerly waited for their response.

"Actually...where did they have this...?" Jason inquired.

"In a cd booklet...they got arrested once they got off the plane. It was in a Manson cd booklet by the way."

Jason nodded.

The Reverend sighed, fearing they didn't get the connection. Suddenly, something clicked in Jason and Evan.

"Oh!" Evan exclaimed. "Same eyebrows status..."

"Oh my gosh! HOLY SHIT. He's wearing the same suit you had on." Jason pointed out. "Wait---so what?" He shrugged. "Millions could wear that."

As if Evan's comment didn't sink into Marilyn's head yet, he frowned. "Damn...I was thinking he was me...but then again, you said millions could wear it..."

"Why do you think he's you?"

"It's only a theory so far...I've had flashes of that rocker doing stuff in that church. I don't know if they're just...imagination, memory, or I may be psychic---picking up energy from places...The flashes of whatever are from his point of view, as well." He sighed. "Am I crazy?"

"Actually...if you could validate any of this, it may just be a memory, or a psychic thing. I believe in psychics. That's not philosophy..."

"Wait---Evan, did you just say, he doesn't have any eyebrows either?"

Evan nodded.

"Interesting...Anyway, got any photos of anyone arrested from being in that building?"

"Well...no, but there might be some in the newspaper..."

Rushing into the living room, he searched for any newspapers laying around. The Los Angeles Times laid right on the coffee table in front of the TV. The TV was on. Some news program, as well. Picking up the paper, he momentarily glanced over to the TV.

"Peter Gilmore, who right here...was held up for parole yesterday, but..." the newsreporter said in a consistent tone.

As soon as the picture of that guy popped up, the lawyer's eyes instantly recognized him. That same man was in the flash of memory, standing right beside Marilyn Manson. The former-rocker gasped.

"What?" Jason questioned, as he walked into the living room.

The newspaper slide right between Marilyn's fingers onto the floor, creating a small mess. "Wow..." He stood there a few moments, struck by the memory's accuracy. Turning to Jason, he started talking again. "Yeah...that Peter Gilmore from that church, you know?"

Jason sat down calmly on the couch, beside the Reverend. "Yes, I remember."

"He was in that flashback, I saw."

Jason sat there stunned just as much as the lawyer was. "You didn't see him before, correct?"

The Reverend shook his head.

"Well...you may be just seeing his memory from his view then. Wait...did he sound like you too, in your...or his...flashbacks?"

"Hold on."

There was another interesting scene on TV. "The man hurt his right forearm, apparently, before he got arrested. The Reverend, here, was hiding, alone." The screen featured a short video as the man (in black suit, black tie, and red silk shirt) struggled before getting caught. A small bleep covered up his cussword he uttered. "This video was caught by an anonymous bystander, peering in from a hole in the building," the newsreporter said calmly.

The lawyer couldn't see the man's face, as it was pix-elated, but the torn right sleeve was in clear view. He looked down at his right arm, remembering there was a healing wound.


Don't forget to leave feedback!

11-07-2010, 12:37 PM
I like it, I like where the story is going! Keep on writting :D
And I agree with Shangs, you should at one point or another bring in some of the band members :]

11-09-2010, 06:54 PM
^Lol,don't worry. :P

Pg. 11

It was probably about halfway healed---or 1/4 healed.

"Okay, now do you think I'm crazy?" He showed Jason his healing wound. "Reverend got a cut, all the while, I had the same suit and had the same area damaged."

Jason scowled, now confused completely. "Well...the only thing that doesn't make sense, is that you weren't there that day, at least, that's what I remember."

"Me too."

"Coincidence? Both of you having that happening?"

"I don't know. I want to say yes, but a nagging, suppressed voice says no."

"You know what, we need to get this off our minds. We need to get over to the bar. Chuck and our new friend, Borg Haywood. Interesting name, no?" He chuckled. "They'll be there, waiting."

"Exactly." A small laugh exited out of the Reverend's mouth. He noted that Evan was still in the kitchen. "Evan...if you could wash that suit for tomorrow, that'll be great," he called out to her.

"Allright, sweetums," She replied, as she saw out of the corner of her eye, Marilyn and Jason racing out of the door.

When they arrived at the bar, two men were standing near the entrance. One was wearing jeans, a beanie, and a zipped up black leather jacket. The other one, was leaning against the bar's wall. He was wearing a long trenchcoat, had somewhat spiky hair, wore black jeans and a green T-shirt. Marilyn and Jason got closer and noticed eyeliner around his eyes.

"What's up, Borg?" Jason said to him.

"Not much...Hey, is this Brian?" Borg smiled at the lawyer.

"Hehe, yeah. He's been a friend of mine and Chuck's for quite a long time."

"Hello, Borg. What's going on in life?" Marilyn shook hands with him.

"Hehe! Just trying to rock out into the famous life. Come on here, new buddy!" Borg gave the lawyer a noogie and put his arm around the man's shoulder. Both walked into the bar, chuckling.

They sat down right in front of the bartender's area. There were other tables and chairs, however, throughout the building. The two men noticed the building was about full. The bartender brought their attention back to the drinking area.

"What will you guys have?"

"I'll have..." The lawyer looked around, scanning the selection. There it is---the Green Fairy. "Absinthe."

"It'll be distilled, obviously..." The bartender pointed at the rocker. "And you?"

"Just some Yellowtail."

The man disappeared, going off to get the drinks. While he was gone, Chuck and Jason entered the bar. The man with the beanie, apparently, was Chuck all along. They walked over to the two, and Jason sat beside Marilyn, while Chuck sat beside Borg.

"What do you think of Borg, so far, man?" Jason questioned the Reverend.

"He's...pretty cool. He's a wimp in drinking, though."

They both laughed half-heartedly. Right at the moment, the bartender came with their drinks: two Yellowtails, one beer, and one Absinthe. Within 10 minutes, the three dared Marilyn to chug down just the right amount of Absinthe to make him completely drunk.

While the former rocker look drunkardly at the local band playing in the bar, his rocker friend leaned over to him. "Hey, man...I didn't know you wore eyeliner..."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Confused yet again.

"I see the slight remaining dark area around your eyes..."

The lawyer shrugged it off. Looking at the band playing its music, he felt an urge to go up on their stage. Next thing he knew, his legs were directing him to the area.

"Hey..." He looked up to the lead singer, during a small interlude.

"What's up?" the singer questioned.

"Could I sing a song of mine, or...from this singer? Using your bandmates?"

"Sure." The singer smiled.

Uh-oh! :P

Leave feedback, my readers as always.

11-10-2010, 08:43 PM
Pg. 12

"Thanks, motherfucker." The Reverend smirked.

With that, the frontman walked offstage. From a distance, the lawyer's friends watched him giving out instructions for whatever song to be played. That took about 10 minutes.

"Hey...you got eyeliner I could borrow?" The former-rocker nudged the bass player while onstage.

"Uhh...yeah." He grabbed it off a nearby table.

"Thanks..." Before the bassist could give it out, Marilyn snatched it away from him. It was the old-fashioned type rather than the newly (and frequently used) eyeliner pencil. He put it on carefully. The mirror he used; he gave that and the makeup bottle back to the second guitarist. Last thing he did, was when he pulled off his T-shirt and took off his leather jacket.

"You ready, motherfuckers?" he screamed, clearly as possible, into the microphone.

He heard several people say yes.


The guitarists started playing the guitar as instructed, as well as the drummer.

"...I'll beat you...It's not your fault you're always wrong, the weak are there to justify the strong...the beautiful people, the beautiful people..." At this point, it seemed as if everyone was interested. Borg looked entranced by a spell.

"There's no time to discriminate, hate every motherfucker in your way...the worms will live in every host, it's hard to pick which one they eat the most..." By this point, a full, changed view of audience happened. Instead of seeing a full bar in a medium-sized area, the former-rocker saw a full, cheering-on crowd in a huge venue. He continued: "Capitalism has made it this way, old fashioned fascism...take it awayyy..." At this moment, he felt dizzy. Badly. He turned, threw up, and passed out for a moment. Once he woke up, he started up the song once more, and finished it with a much satisfied crowd---what he saw and in the bar. Unfortunately, some people were not entertained. "A freak wrote that!'' they yelled.

The celebrity noticed this and suddenyl picked up the microphone once more. He pointed over to the disagreeing party. "Well, too bad, motherfuckers...I'm MARILYN---FUCKIN'---MANSON, and I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon!" He flicked them off.

Just at that moment, he proceeded to walk offstage. Thinking the stairs were right in front of him, he took that route. Two feet high stage. Blackness surrounded him instantly.

Several people were afraid to do anything. If he was that shock rocker and being on the "Band Banlist" (sent out as thought provoking bands by the government), then they wouldn't touch or help him. Plus, the people who were Christian before the Ban didn't want to help him.

Jason and the two others were the only ones to give him attention.

The following morning, the former-rocker woke up to conscious with a splitting headache. It hurt so bad. The ticking of the clock, a distant TV going off, and birds chirping outside were all too much. He had to cover his ears as he lazily used his legs to get out of bed. Luckily, he didn't have to go to the courtroom until 2 pm. It was 8 am. The man had 6 hours to get over the hangover.

All the things he did that morning, just made the sounds worse. Screw it. He'll just get ready for the day around 1 pm. Much simpler. Downstairs, he grabbed a can of Axe Body spray and sprayed it over himself. A shower will have to wait until the night. The man was just too tired to even do that, but had energy to look foward going to work that day.

The morning, the entire thing, was just annoyance for him. The only good part was making out with Evan. By 12 pm however the headache went down to a dull feeling, and Marilyn smirked for the small victory.

11-16-2010, 12:22 PM
Pg. 13

Before he could finally tell about his victory to Evan, the home phone rang. He picked it up lazily.


"Haha, there's the singer!" It was a familiar voice.

"Um, what? Who is this?"

"Just recapping last night's events...Anyways, this is Borg. I've been wondering what song you sang yesterday. And how's the hangover?"

"Uh..." The lawyer rose an invisible eyebrow, unsure what exactly to say. "It's just a dull feeling now, thanks. I...don't know what song it was. Plus, after I threw up once, I don't remember anything after that. Why? And, hell, I have no clue whatsoever why I told the band to play it the way they did." The scene where he got onstage, started singing with "I don't want you, I don't need you/Don't bother to resist, or I'll beat you'', and the music all played through his mind.

"Yeah...I really liked that song. And good to know the hangover's almost over with...Wait, I've heard that song before on MTV years ago. By that guy too---Marilyn Manson. He was a freak---but that one song was outstanding. I need to find it, and---"

"Could you find pictures of the real singer?"

"Why? And...I was about to say, you sounded just like the singer."

"Just because. I have a theory about him and me." He was in his bedroom, half-undressed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Manson's cd still on his nightstand.

"Allright, man. I'll do that. Also...don't trust anyone to tell them about this. Pretty illegal. His stuff is 110% banned."

"Okay. Wait, why not let my friends know? Especially Jason. I'll need to tell him, I already told him other personal stuff." The lawyer took out AntiChrist Superstar from under a couple of shallow music cds. Looking at it, a worried expression crept onto his face. He shoved it below, in his nightstand's book area. It was now behind the Book on the Ban and the book about music that's allowed.

"Jason...he's the last one you want to trust, on this stuff. He'd rat you out immediately. Hell, because of all those people still being enamored over this guy's concepts and powerful imagery, they took off all his websites, fansites, and pictures from the Internet about two weeks ago. Many people accepted what the 'government' did without a question. Only a few opposed. Some say Manson's individuality after getting arrested caused it to happen."

"How come you're saying all this? How do you know?"

I've a private Internet server, even before the the Ban took place. And I still have it. Apparently private servers haven't been shut down yet by the 'government'. Nearly impossible to trace. It's great! Private ones have the entire, original Internet. However, everything's just archived on a hard-to-find web archiver. Look, I'll get you to come over sometime, so you can see, allright? And remember, I'm trusting you to keep it all a secret! Plus, you'll be surprised...at a forum put up by somebody...how about next weekend you come over?"

"Allright, that'll be cool. What about Jason...? What is he? A doubleagent?" the lawyer chuckled.

"Exactly! I'm not joking one bit, either. Fine, fine. Look in his desk when he's doing his job, after you get there this afternoon. I've heard from one of his co-workers, he keeps his secret records there about his job. Second job."

Marilyn sighed. "Fine, I'll do it."

"I'm out for some rocking. Cya."


With that, he put the phone down on its receiver.


Don't forget about feedback. :)

11-16-2010, 01:57 PM
I know i've said it before, I love it. :)

11-20-2010, 08:33 PM
Hehe, thanks girl.

Pg. 14

Time passed quickly, and he barely realized he was already at work. He was too busy thinking about Jason. Well, the man was a really great friend. He listened, laughed with, felt pain for others, and best of all---did outstanding cooking. His food was so...good. Poisonous. Borg's view quickly entered into his mind. Aware of his surroundings, he sighed.

"I don't know..." he mumbled.

He walked into the building's lobby, all donned in his black suit and red shirt, carrying a briefcase. The elevator immediately opened, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Jason. Jason was in it.

"Hey, buddy! How'd the morning go?"

"Umm...okay, I guess...Nice breakfast...except for the hangover part." He chuckled uncomfortably.

"Floor? Haha. Poor you...I remember the times I had hangovers. And on a better note of clarity, I found out you are not that Manson guy at all, in any shape or form. I cleared it up just for you!" He smiled at Marilyn.

"The 4th. And thanks, man!" The lawyer forced a smile.

"No problem! And I'll be down here on the first, if you need anything. For an hour, by the way."

"Okay, man."

That moment, the doors opened, and the sign above the number pad flashed "4". Waving goodbye, the Reverend set off to his office. As always, one of the building's lawyer assistants was near the door of the room.

"Mr. Brian Warner, you will be starting your day, instead at 3 pm. I have laid out a planned worksheet for hour-to-hour of today's assignments on your desk." It was a young woman this time. The assistants vary each day, depending on who can be there to help.

He opened the door and lazily flopped himself into the chair. The words Borg spoke that morning kept coming back into his mind as he fiddled with a pencil on the desk. He looked down at his watch. 40 minutes. He sighed, and turned to see outside the huge glass window, taking up space of the one wall. Nice weather today. Sunny. The little people on the ground, the occasional plane flying by, and the sound of vehicles going by all seemed so lovely. Productive. Happy.

The decision was made in his mind. He rushed out of the office, locking the door on the way out. Walking fast down the hall, the lawyer stopped at his buddy's office: 4107 B. Luckily, the door wasn't locked. He carefully opened the door, as he entered. The room was empty of people; however, it contained only, a desk and two chairs before it and behind it.

Frantically, he pulled out his phone and called Borg.

"Hello?" the other end said.

"Hey, this is Brian. I'm in his office. I only have 35 minutes, so what am I looking for?"

"Haha, I knew you would...allright there's rumored to be folders for every lawyer in the building. Also government documents, particularly about the recent capture of some known celebrities. The most mysterious being of rumored practices of memory modification. I'll explain about it later. Wait---not every lawyer is documented, however. Well, the rumor varies."

"Allright, thanks, cya."

"Look for memory modification firstmost. Bye for now!"

Marilyn put the phone back in his jacket. 30 minutes now. Sitting at the desk, he opened the first drawers on the left and right. He skimmed through the left drawer, seeing nothing of particular interest. The right drawer, however contained a folder entitled: MEMORY. Grabbing that one, he opened it on the desk. First page read: BULLSHIT. He sighed. He flipped through all of them, but stopped when he saw a different paper.


Cliffhanger! I know, I'm mean.

11-20-2010, 09:38 PM
Manly Roman Sin is also an anagram for Marilyn Manson. You can type it right into Wordsmith.

I am a firm believer in premonitions. Hopefully it remains fiction and pretty cool to say the least. Keep it up.

Your friend owes me.

11-20-2010, 09:42 PM
^Thank you, for the kind words and you reading it. Truly means a lot. :)

11-21-2010, 07:29 PM
Pg. of the Mar1lyn Man5on fanfiction.

It read:
Jason Newarkat
Secret Document

Modification of a Memory is a complicated process. Whether the personality, feelings, or talents can be supressed, we don't know quite yet. We've hired special teachers to evaluate you. We've found out you can be quite skilled doing this advanced chemistry. You have performed ''outstanding'' in all your classes dealing with anthropology, biology, psychology, and most importantly: chemistry.

Memory can now be changed into chemicals, as we've studied this ever since September 30th, 2001 to hopefully damage our attackers (earlier in this month) by not using any nuclear or biological weapons to harm our chances for our environment. However, this has proven effective by which assholes who have gotten into our secret facilities (such as Area 51) have no recollection of what they've seen.

Of course, sometimes those people will remember suddenly and tell others. For then, modified memories were a necessity. That power suddenly turned into a slowly progressing mass-induced method , around 2008, late 2008.

Multiple reasons are for why Modification is needed, today. Individuality. Religions. Philosophy. Much more.

Our leader's sole reason: to throw all thought away. Less questions=more power over the country.

So, your assignments are enclosed, within your computer for now. As promised, you will receive a pure paycheck---free of taxes or healthcare benefits. You will get everything free.
---end document---

Marilyn couldn't believe his eyes. For a moment, he just sat there frozen to the core. Nonetheless, he looked at his watch. 22 minutes. Putting the paper back where it was (as well as the other papers), he shoved the folder back into the drawer, hastily.

He closed both drawers and opened the bottom two, the remaining ones. Skimming the right one, he recognized some names from the offices and friends from the building he was in. He turned to the left one, and his eyes nearly popped out of his sockets from his overwhelming shock. Why would Jason have a folder on...

HIM? Instantly, he pulled the folder out carefully. Opening it, he scanned it very closely. Most notably, he read some paragraphs extremely close:

Name: Brian Warner
Age: 41
Born: 1/5/69
Alternative name: Marilyn Manson

this man was definitely the toughest (whose memory was modified) to deal with in the Memory Chamber. His individuality was very strong. He had a very willing spirit to rebel, to make sure religion and philosophy kept alive.

He skipped a few more paragraphs:

This rocker had one of the more complicated memory wipes and modifications. We achieved shaping his personality and individuality, all thanks to you, Jason Newarkat, Advanced Chemist.

His memory had to be completely rebuilt, as he had been exposed to both religion and philosophy in many ways including in his rock career. How Christians acted towards him in the past, made him spiral into rebellion against them. His music was influenced by Christianity (along with other religions and with philosophies) into becoming known as: Shock Rock. However, many fans (and our researchers also) knew it was about being against their ways, not their way necessarily.

He was disguisted with what he read.


Be sure to continue reading and enjoying it! A bit of a cliff-hanger in this one too....

11-27-2010, 10:16 PM
Pg. 16

Nonetheless, he continued with another page:

His memory has been on...(He couldn't read the date) His past was into:

fascination with crime and the trials following them
TV show= Power Inspector, favorite
a circle of friends who loved his C. S. I. skills, math skills, his friendly nature, etc.

...and much more.
The present has been made into something completely different from his former rocker status, his antics with his friends, and relationships with people around him. Most importantly---he has no recognition of his individuality.
EXCEPTION: About a week ago into his new life, I, Jason Newarkat, report that he questioned his identity. I will ensure I tell him he is who he is today [on the Modification]. He will, nonetheless, take it to heart. He's a spineless idiot who will believe people easily, unlike in the past. Marilyn Manson will be no more, once again.

Marilyn noticed it was a copy of the document. No doubt the governme---or rather in the hands of the Ruler---the original document. One more paragraph he read:

Evidence---His Reverend Card is still missing, unfortunately. I have searched his entire house, after he passed out, and I (like a good, false friend) drove him home. No albums of his own were found at his house. In the next few weeks, we---myself and the other investigators---will search all areas for this Card of his. We have found a contact who admitted they told him he was a famous rocker, and a Reverend.

The lawyer felt confusion and anger rise up in his body. Angrily, he put the papers of the document back in their proper order, put them in the folder, and with care put the folder in the drawer. He slammed both drawers shut. Glancing at the clock, he noted he had 10 minutes to get out of the office without harm. Scowling, he stormed out of the room, careful to shut the door calmly behind him.

While, he strolled down the hall, he pulled out his phone and dailed Borg's number. "Come on...Come on, pick it up..." he muttered to himself.

"Hello!" Borg's voice came through.

"Hey. This is---" he paused, deciding whether to use Brian or Marilyn. Brian, however, is a safer name to give out, in an environment like this. "---Brian. You are completely right about Jason. I'll definitely be willing to come over ANY time." He smirked.

"Haha, awesome to hear...were you able to confirm on memory modifications, whether they exist or not?"

The Reverend took a left and stopped at his office door. "Exactly...It definitely---I repeat, DEFINITELY---exists. A---"

"Hey, Brian." A voice interrupted him.

Marilyn held up a finger to signal to wait.

"Yes, they exist. I got to go, so I'll talk to you later." The lawyer clicked it off, and put it in his black jacket. "Yes?"

Jason stared into his face, happily. "Man, I'm here to review that interview from one court case victim. She's been (supposedly) suffering from domestic violence."

He sighed. "Allirght." With that, he unlocked his door, and walked in. "Take a seat."

The doubleagent took a chair near the desk, turned it around, and sat down on it that way. "First off, what's bothering you?"

Marilyn imagined flipping over the asshole's chair, and screaming into his face: "YOU."

Don't forget to leave feedback, and keep reading this!

12-19-2010, 09:03 PM
Been a long time, eh?


Instead, he sat down calmly. Anger started to appear in his face, turning into a scowl. "You know what, I'll be right back, I'm going to the bathroom..."

Once Marilyn shut the door, he instantly heard Jason dialing a number on his phone. The anger soon turned into curiosity. The Reverend pressed his ear to the door.

Jason started up the conversation. "What's up, sole Ruler?"

Pausing, he listened to the other end in silence. After a few minutes, he finally got to respond. "Yes...I understand it is criticial...this stupid rocker...he's too stupid to hang out with. Nonetheless, I have more solutions to his small identity problem---planning to go over to his house, and offer a fool-proof part of evidence. Sometime this week, by the way."

Pausing yet again, he listened. "I know. He should be and is a spineless idiot. Yes, sir. I'll be sure to win over his decision, completely. Plus, I reinsured him about him being a lawyer, this morning, in the elevator."

He listened for a minute.

"Thank you, sir. It definitely isn't the easiest job..."

Another pause.

"Yes, I know. I'll do my best. And haha, yes, he was a jackass and a freak before I modified his memory. Simply put his real name, Brian Warner, spread throughout his fake, yet better life."

A pause yet again.

"Allright, sir. I'll talk to you at...9 pm tonight! Bye."

After that, the Reverend sped right in to the bathroom. Dialing Borg's number again, he scowled.


"Yo, this is Marilyn. I mean, Brian. Calling back to----" He quickly kneeled down and scanned if any legs were showing under the stall doors. None. He stood back up and leaned against the sinks while crossing his legs. "---report my findings."

"What did you find?"

"I am that singer. You know, the Marilyn guy. I know it---I saw it---the government seal was on the documents of mine. They had to dumb down my individuality. My memory was modified by the one and only greeeat Jason! Hell no, I'm not telling you about the secret document on the Modification process, however."

"You've got to!"

Huge cliffhanger, I know. But I think is long enough of a post....2nd half of page coming later.