The Burnsfield Project

Chapter 10

I opened the bathroom door with a feeling of empowerment, authority.  In my mind, this is just another catalyst in my life, one that I will conquer.  Mills and the boys were not at their desks anymore.  The entire place was quiet, too quiet. 

Starting from the farthest part of the room the banks of lights begin to shut off.  The darkness is creeping towards me, like it has always done.  Darkness is scary but it's actually emotional darkness that I fear the most.

Now, I'm standing in between the bathroom and The Boss's office, yet to move a muscle.  If something was going to happen then it was going to have to come to me, I stayed put.  The fact I was in the dark merely strengthened my remaining senses.

I could smell something, something like corn chips or nasty ass feet.  My skin was ultra-sensitive, like a radar device scanning all surrounding areas around me for any sort of approach or movement.  My ears felt as if they had tripled in size, I could hear a gnat fetus fart inside of the mother gnats belly from a quarter mile away. 

The slight rustling of filth on the floor was very apparent to me, but I did not turn to face it.  I just waited, I would act only on instinct.  The barely audible rustling sound crept closer as my skin radar picked up movement at about seven o'clock behind me. 

It was definitely a person but it wasn't Mills or the other guys, their bulk wouldn't permit such silent movement.  Whoever it was had now arrived directly behind me and opened their arms in such a manner that it warranted a response. 

Dropping directly to the floor, spun around with one leg out, and sweeping my pretend attacker to the floor.  Only then did I lunge to attack.  I mounted my attacker and I secured both arms.  Remember, the lights are still off.

Slowly the banks of lights started to activate starting in the furthest corner again and approaching me quickly.  While this was happening, I heard applause.  It was obviously a test and I think I may have impressed everyone with my ninja like skills.  I learned it all from my old cat Goldie, the best, most beautiful cat in the history of cats.

I was walking along through a field behind my house when I was eight years old.  The grass was so tall, my very existence in the field was questionable but even now and then my little head would pop up like a little Prairie dog checking for Hawks.

I could hear an animal, a very faint meowing but not a regular meow, a painful meow.  Did I use the word meow enough?  Any ways, being an eight year old boy in deep exploration of an uninhabitable field I approached the sound instinctively.

When I finally broke through the tall grass, I saw a beautiful orange and white cat with its head lodged in a hollow log.  I rubbed the cat on its back to try to calm it but my touch only terrified the animal more.  I laid myself on the ground facing the sky and began to slide my head into the hollowed log.

As soon as the cat spotted me, instant calm hit both of us.    I pushed myself in a little bit further and I put both hands seemingly around the cat's neck.  I didn't really but it looked that way.  I pushed up as hard as I could, my back being crushed into the bottom of the log.

Suddenly, the area I was pushing on cracked open and the cat was freed.  I went to get myself out and found that now I was stuck.  Story of my life.  The only thing I could do was put my hands out of the hole I created for the cat.

Well, when you're out of sight, generally you're also out of mind.  I was in this log for quite a while but not once did I give up.  I was squirming and twisting myself around, only securing my position in the log more.

Next thing I know, a raccoon is directly in my face, trying to enter the log for shelter.  Even an eight year old knows to not mess with raccoons.  I yelped out in terror as the raccoon swiped at my face, physically telling me to leave but that was impossible.

The raccoon screams out in pain and frankly it scared me so bad, I dumped in my trousers.  Not a normal dump, a splattery scared kid dump.  The raccoon pulled itself out of the hole and spun around rapidly.

Low and behold, the little cat from early was securely attached to this raccoon directly on its neck.  All its claws were dug in and its tail was working viciously to help the cat maintain balance.

I began to laugh like I never knew I could because it was a genuinely funny sight to see.  A cat riding a raccoon above a little boy stuck in a log.  That's only something that happens in books and the movies.

The little cat let go of the raccoon and climbed down in the hole with me.  Little Goldie licked my face, my wounds and proceeded to do so until the next morning.  The log and my body had obtained so much condensation that I slide out like a used tampon.

I grabbed the cat up and ran home.  The story was an epic tale of tragedy and terror but with a remarkably happy ending.  Mom let me keep the cat and I named it Goldie.  My Goldie.

Goldie passed away shortly thereafter and my world began to crumble.  Reference the first flashback for the crumbling part if you really need to read it again.  I love you Goldie and you'll never be forgotten.

The room was fully lit now; going from full dark to full light in a white room was pretty dramatic and blinded me as my pupils did their best to adjust.  I turned my head, looking for the applauder, yet to acknowledge my assailant. 

Mills, obviously Mills had something to do with it.  He was laughing and clapping so hard for me, like he was my biggest fan. 

"Another prank Mills?" I asked with confidence as if I had just conquered a giant with a dull spoon.

Smiling very proudly, Mills says, "This, my friend, was no prank.  It was a test.  I sent in the best man I knew for stealth and skills to attempt to abduct you and Gregg you reacted perfectly."

I released my attacker and stood over him as if I had just defeated him in a one on one old school duel. 

I reached down to help him up when it hit me like a ton of bricks, "Wait…I…J-e-s-u-s C-h-r-i-s-t!  What the hell…"  I couldn't get my mind around what I was seeing.

"Listen, everything's ok.  You're cute and all but you're a touch too old for me." This man, this ghost spoke to me as if we were acquaintances.

Mills interrupts, "Gregg, meet Jeffy, one of our best agents."

I step back as if I had been hit with a heavyweight haymaker and I crash down on my ass in the middle of the floor, "How? He's dead, we all know he died, he's dead, it's…he's dead Mills!" 

"That's what everyone needed to believe, everyone needed to know he was dead so he could join our team Gregg." Mills was very calm about all of this; they just unleashed this monster on me.  He's been dead for at least ten or twelve years now yet he's right in front of my eyes.  How?

Jeffy was…