I Am Someone

[Johnathan Morris]

“Who are you?” the calm voice from the dark rang out.
“I am no one”, a voice called back with equal calmness.
“Ready,” hissed whispers erupted around the room. “Ready”, they chanted over and over again. A single light appeared and slowly began to move away from the one who was ready. A doorway was lit and the being walked through.
White sterile light blinded it. While it waited for its eyes to adjust, it listened to the breathing of other beings. When it could finally see again, its eyes were met with many hooded figures making a pathway just large enough for it to pass through. The walk was a short one, ending at a table. It climbed on the table and laid down, as it was told to in hushed whisper by its soon to be brethren. It was strapped down to the table. A needle pierced its skin and a feeling of burning entered its veins. It twisted and screamed against the death that sought it out. Blackness overcame it and all was silent.
Johnathan’s eyes fluttered open. He had dreamed about his past again and it bothered him. He was someone. Not the no one that cult had brainwashed him into believing. He was still surprised, when he was reminded of his past, that they had seemed so old school with that handwritten things, candles, and monk’s robes and yet were able to perfect a SPR recipe that generated the same results every time on every one it was injected into. Sadly though their greatest creation was the reason for their demise. Everyone was killed in the compound by a monster. At least that’s what it seemed like when he awoke. Either by luck or because the killer had thought him already dead, Johnathan was spared.
He couldn’t remember his name or where he had come from. All he had was a book that he found hidden under a body. That book was his most sacred possession. The book described the SPR effects, side effects, and how to make it. What Johnathan had been injected with gave him the power to alter his appearance to that of someone else, but he could only become someone who he had seen before and he could only become them for 12 hours. After 12 hours the appearance would become his forever and he would lose the ability to change.
Johnathan was always very careful in that. He worked as a spy for the Rebellion, under the cover of a businessman. He had been working for them for years now, about 10 to be exact, though very few had ever seen his face. To most he was JM, a name signed at the end of a transmission. Even though he was now someone, it felt better to keep his anonymity.
He was Johnathan Morris, JM and everyone he had ever seen, because he wasn’t no one, he was who he created himself to be.
“I am someone”, he said to himself, his voice calm in the dark.