Memory Man Series Novels & Stories

“Every single one of you. Including you. You died. You’re not alive.” The man shook his head violently, pushing back on his hands. “No. No, that’s not true! I—I was just home! I was home with my wife, I—” “—and then?” the Game Master interrupted softly. The man froze. “And then what happened, hmm?” It tilted its head again, eyes shining. “You remember, don’t you?” The man’s eyes widened, and I could see it — the exact moment his memory came back. His lips parted, his face drained of color. He started to shake harder, grabbing at his head.

It seemed his suspicions were not unfounded. Dr. Sandman went on, "It was a poison called Amni Poison. While it's not lethal, it disrupts the memory nerves of the victim, causing them to forget the people and events they care about the most. Moreover, if the victim forcefully tries to recall those forgotten memories, it leads to intense heartache. It's like a barrier in their memory; breaking through it only causes unbearable pain."

“Anything could help us, my son. We need to stop her before she destroys everything.” Manuel winced, pressing a hand to his forehead. “It’s like… there’s a wall in my mind. I can’t break it. I see flashes, darkness, fire, and… her voice.” “What does she say?” He looked down, his breathing shallow. “I don't remember anything.” My blood ran cold. “Manuel,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm, “try to remember where she is, or what she’s planning.” He opened his mouth to speak again but then stopped.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.” Vera tried. God, she tried. The man picked up a knife. Not large. Not dramatic. Clean. Functional. “This is about memory,” he said. “You keep forgetting where you belong.” Vera shook her head. “She has nothing to do with this.” “That’s what makes her useful.” The knife went in. Lina cried out—a sharp, broken sound that cut straight through Vera’s chest. The man twisted it slowly, deliberately, watching Vera’s face, not Lina’s.

She completely forgot about the manul. On the rare occasion she remembered to check on it, she paid it little to no attention. Within days, it began emitting a putrid stench. It was starving and was barely clinging to life. I thought it would die. But the next morning, I opened my eyes to find it crouched by the bed. It glared at me with a bloodthirsty glint in its eyes. Manuls were inherently vicious. They were quick to understand human intent and hold grudges.

“So she will have to fight all the good memories.” “Yes.” The scientist stated as he turned his attention back to his laptop. “So your daughter will treat her good right?.” The man inquired with narrowed eyes. “She will. Unlike your cousin my daughter actually likes to enjoy life and will teach your niece how to enjoy like too.” The man stated confidently. “If she gets her memories back than she will know something is wrong instantly.” The young man stated with pressed lips. “That is true.” Mumble murmurs went around the room. The man with the smokers voice didn’t seem fazed, he actually smiled big as he looked at everyone.

He asked. Mr. Evidence's brother cleared his throat before he spoke. "Seems like you 're suffering from Amnesia. Hmmm…" he said as he moved towards Mr. Evidence before he cleared his throat again and continued his statement. "You have a memory disorder, brother." "Memory disorder? How serious is it?" He asked. "We will find out from the doctor soon." Mr. Evidence's brother replied and with the anger in Mr. Evidence's eyes, he spoke in anger with a loud and oppressing voice.

“Something is wrong.” Nova felt it too. “The Architect is attacking your memories directly.” The woman clenched her fists. “Hold on to them!” Another shock slammed through the network. A man suddenly looked confused. “Wait… why am I here?” The group turned toward him. Fear spread instantly. “No,” the older man said firmly. “You remember.” “I… don’t.” Nova stepped closer. “You came because you refused to forget.” The man stared at her uncertainly. “I… think…” The Architect spoke again.

He just got down to his level. “The noise is loud,” Ronan said, his voice low and calm, not the usual bark of the guards. “It gets inside your head.” The man looked at him, surprised. “You have to find a quiet place inside,” Ronan said. “A memory. A good one. Hold onto it. It’s stronger than the noise.” The man stared at him. No one had ever talked to him like this. Not in the Citadel. “What… what kind of memory?” the man whispered.

Clearly, the healer's antidote had worked. But before the healer could finish, Raymond cut him off. "No. The less she remembers, the better. Don't let her recall anything." My heart clenched. My hand froze on the doorknob. 'Are you really that eager to cast me away?' I pushed the door open. Raymond froze for a split second, then his expression turned cold again. "Raymond, I actually—" He frowned at first. Then, he pointed impassively at a gravely ill male werewolf lying in bed. "Miss, you've got the wrong person. That's your brother over there."