[ WP ] A machine has been invented that recovers lost memories . You 're going in for your first session with this machine .

`` James. James Barnett,'' called the man with the white lab coat. 
 
 `` Here,'' I replied as I raised my hand. 
 
 `` Good. Now if you could follow me please. We're strict on time as there are still many participants left who we need to schedule in,'' the man retorted in a rather pompous manner as he keyed in the room's code. 
 
 As the door opened there was n't much to be seen except for a machine that looked more or less like those things that gave you CAT scans in a hospital. 
 
 `` Now if you could please remove your shoes and lie on the bed over there,'' spoke the man in a rather bored tone as if he had repeated the same sentence time and time again. 
 
 I removed my shoes and lay on the bed staring at the white ceiling above me. The room was too white. Too white for my liking. Maybe it ought to have a splash of red to it that way it'd brighten up the place a bit. 
 
 `` Okay, the process is simple. Close your eyes and as I turn the machine on it will create an anesthetic effect. After that whatever happens will happen and memories that you have forgotten will come to you however both the good and the bad.'' 
 
 His pale unemotional face fixed with large circular spectacles was the last I saw before it all came to darkness. 
 
 When I opened my eyes again, or so I thought I did, I was in the same room though now I was simply sitting on a chair. The door in front of me, if you could even call it a door, looked more like the entrance to a tunnel rather than the metallic gateway which I had entered through. In front of that supposed `` door'' was a figure that slouched against the wall. As I approached it, it looked up at me his face brimming with radiance only to fall into a depressed expression as he readjusted his glasses. 
 
 `` Oh it's you again,'' he sighed. 
 
 I wanted to question what he meant but before I could even move my mouth to speak he pressed his fingers to his mouth signalling silence. 
 
 `` We do n't have that much time as these sessions are limited to an hour each so it's best we be on our way before our lovely time together is cut short,'' he said as he pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. 
 
 Dead silence fell between us as we traversed through the tunnel. 
 
 `` Who are you?'' I asked. 
 
 `` I'm your conscious dammit. I swear you ask this e-v-e-r-y *single* time,'' he replied not before face-palming in a rather dramatic manner. `` Anyway, here's our first stop. Whitechapel. London. 1988. This is where it all began.'' 
 
 I watched in horror as I was given a slideshow of women getting ripped apart by a blurred out silhouette of man? Woman? I could n't tell or maybe I simply did n't want to know. 
 
 `` Yeah I know, pretty gruesome stuff if I must say. It's really ruining my appetite, if I had one,'' my conscious joked with his arms folded and eyes staring nonchalantly at the murders. 
 
 It felt like eternity but eventually we were back in the room where it all began and the moment we set foot in that room I bombarded my conscious with questions. 
 
 *'' Why did you show me this? Is this what I had forgotten? Why did I forget murders? Was I the witness to these events? `` * 
 
 `` Witness? Good joke,'' he scoffed. `` If you were the witness to these events then I might as well be a God. The ruler of everything in this world and sadly I'm not.'' 
 
 `` However I will answer your questions before you leave even though you'll probably be back asking me the same things because of your Alzheimers. Anyway, these murders were a big part of who you are. You were famous in London and you will continue to be in the time to come.'' 
 
 As everything around me began to fade but not before my conscious spoke one last time. 
 
 `` See you next time Mr Jack,'' he paused a bit before whispering with a maniacal grin etched into his face, `` the ripper.'' 
 
 Back to the real world as I emerged from the machine, the man who had called my name earlier asked if I could remember anything. 
 
 `` No. No for some reason I ca n't remember anything at all,'' I cried in frustration as I racked my brains to remember what had happened while I was asleep. 
 
 `` It's fine Mr Barnett,'' he sighed. `` We will reschedule for next time. Although I do n't see how it's going to help with your Alzheimers.'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

