Cleaper

Hello out there to you reading this. You will know about me soon. Before I was killed by one of my clones, I put myself into the Package. The Package is a porthole into another dimension. I have been lost in here ever since. I go by the name of Switcher.

Now if I was killed, you say, by one of my clones, how do I exist…because I am a genius, you pricks ...Okay, because I'm a clone. The original James Litfield stuffed me in here before he died. Feel better now? Can’t be fine with "because I'm a Genius."

I need to wipe out the other clones of myself, but I can't do it alone. If the other clones find out about me and where I am at, they might use this tech for evil purposes and we don't want that do we? Do we?

With the use of the Package, I enlisted the help of an alien named Dabih. I don't know if I fully trust him, but he has stuck with me for now.

The Package was invented for a gifted lad named Justin Case. Justin was equipped with making anything into a weapon, which is why it was important for C.O.R.E to make sure he was well taken care of. I created a suit he could wear that had portal pockets for him to hide anything inside. He fled the base with another gifted pupil stealing the suit.

He calls himself the Cleaper and has gone off the grid. He is a gun for hire that may have killed the wrong people. This is part of his story.

Deep in the woods, a deer stands and the hunter takes aim.

The deer chews on grass and stares into the woods.

A gun shot rings out and spooks the deer and it runs off across a dead body fifty feet away.

The fresh body lays out with a smile on his face. The victim of the gun shot felt no more pain.

Here lies Bob Hopkins, a sixty year old man that was dying of cancer. His wish was to be shot and put out of his misery. He set up payment with Cleaper.

Cleaper walks up to Bob and grabs the briefcase and sets it up on a stump and opens it. There is a note inside. Cleaper glances at it, but he checks the money first. Cleaper throws Bob's body into the fire like the note asks. He tries to read more, but the deer brushes past him and Cleaper looks in the direction from where the deer was running from. He sees a shine of light high in the trees, blinking at him. He dives behind the tree stump. Wood chips fly off over his head. Cleaper’s metal suit closes over his head, blocking the second shot. He shoots off smoke bombs from inside his wrists and starts running.

Cleaper manages to reach a cabin. Before going in, he sets up traps around the perimeter. After making sure that everything is clear, he reads the rest of the note.

Dear Sir,

Thank you for accepting the job. After you're done, please burn my body. I have always wanted to go out that way, reaching the heavens quicker through the smoke. I was always the dreamer. Anyway, the smoke from my body will send a message to my friend in the tree.

You see, if you're still reading this, I made things a little interesting. By now, if your head isn't blown off, you have made it to the only cabin in that area. That's where I would go if I was being hunted by the best sniper in the world. Let me introduce you to the Sleeper. He is patient and very detail-oriented.

I know about your kind, but unfortunately I became too sick and couldn't chase after you myself. You don't have much time now. Enjoy my cabin while you can. If you get hungry, there is a turkey sandwich in the fridge.

Sorry no beer. I drank them all.

P.S.

It's actually peanut butter and marmalade. I hope you choke.

Your,

Dead friend Bob.

Cleaper throws the letter into the fire place and looks out the window to see his traps have been disarmed.

Cleaper: “Crap!”

He shoots out a flare to get a better look at the forest but all he can see are the trees. A gun shot is sent through the window at the same time hitting the flare gun out of his hand.

Cleaper: “Damn, wait … wait one minute." He yells.

He goes the fridge and opens the door. There is a note taped on the empty milk container.

—Hello again. Still not dead yet?

Oh well, sorry … not sorry but there is nothing to eat. Weird thing about me is I knew I wouldn’t go back to the cabin, so I threw everything out. If I knew you were coming I would have baked a cake or something. Keep reading so that my friend can kill you.

A bullet goes through the letter. Cleaper throws the fridge down on top of him to save his armor from any damage. He takes a drill gun out of his suit and puts holes in the fridge to see and shoot. He takes out his machine gun and makes sure that there isn’t any termites in the front wall of the cabin. He thinks if it was me I would come through the back door. He maneuvers the fridge to take aim at the back of the cabin.

Cleaper: “How do you like that, Bob? I’ll turn your place into Swiss Cheese. I shouldn’t talk about food. Can’t take it with you Bob.”

Soon his machine gun is out of bullets, the sound of an empty chamber keep spinning and the smoke is thick.

A voice comes from a whole in the roof. “I hope you packed more bullets.”

The Sleeper shoots Cleaper's metal helmet. Cleaper reaches inside his suit for another gun, but grabs the c4. He then plants the c4 on the fridge and hides inside his pocket dimension and blows the fridge into the roof, knocking the shooter off and the cabin falls apart.

Cleaper lays in his white room of solitude. He can see a red door at the end of the white abyss.

He tries to open it, but burns his hand. The door is hot from the flames on the other side. He can’t go out. He is trapped. He sits exhausted, too tired to care.

Cleaper gets up and wanders for hours, seeing no way out. He then passes out and falls to the ground. Hours go by.

James Litfield: "Hey…what are you doing in my chair? Get out of my chair!"

Cleaper’s eyes blink open to a bright white empty room. A banana peel floats over his face. He sits up to see an older man with wild hair standing above him. The Man struts with knobby knees and trips over his white beard.

“Damn, I need a razor. Next time I am out I will get one. You there … get out of my seat.”

Cleaper gets up and makes a hand gesture like Vanna White pointing to nothing.

“Seats all yours.”

James: “Thank you.” He sits eating a banana.

Cleaper: “Wait a minute, I know you.”

James: “I don’t know you.”

Cleaper: “No, I suppose not. The person I knew was a genius. You look like you have no concept of anything.”

James: “I am a genius. Just look on how I decorated this place. Look around.”

Cleaper: “We are in a total white…whatever this is. It’s bright and forever going. I see nothing in all directions except for banana peels. Yes, I see it now. The yellow stands out perfectly. You are a genius.”

James: “You see it ...but you don’t see it.”

Cleaper: “How did the banana peels get in here?”

James: “Well, you see, after I peel the bananas, I throw the peels and they float away.”

Cleaper, not looking impressed: “Where … do the … bananas come from?”

James: “A store. I stole them from a store. I reached out and grabbed them without anyone seeing me.”

Cleaper: “James, stop messing with me.”

James: “How did you know my name?”

Cleaper: “You’re wearing a name tag. (James looks down) Naw, see what I did there? Now I am messing with you. You were the one that made my suit and created the package.”

James: “The suit that you are wearing is made of holes. I wouldn’t have made that. It looks like crap.”

Cleaper: “No, I am not currently wearing the suit. This is just what I wear under the suit.”

James: “So, you are in your tighty whities, parading around for everyone to see and embarrassing me. Thanks.”

Cleaper: “What the hell happened to you? Have you gone mad?”

James: “You are standing in my living room in your underwear asking if I have gone mad.”

Cleaper: “I would put something on, I just don’t know how to get to the store from here. Could you help me out.”

James: “How do you know me?”

Cleaper: “My name is Justin Case. You were a teacher of mine when I was younger at the C.O.R.E.”

James: “You are one of them. Who sent you? No, on second thought, just leave me alone.”

Cleaper: “I work for no one and I came here by mistake. You showed me when I was younger a suit that you can disappear into. You said 'remember where you come in at so that you can go out the same way.' You never mentioned another way out if the first door was blocked.”

James looks at Cleaper in awe like something is coming back to him.

James: “My dear boy, have a seat. Here, take mine. It’s very comfortable (He points to a spot where there is no chair). I have something very important to tell you… Justin. You are screwed.”

Cleaper: “…What?”

James: “I am a clone of James, one of many, and I have gone bananas trying to figure out how to get out of here. I knew once, but I forgot the way. I have been afraid to go back to life; back to reality.”

Cleaper; “Bananas. How did you get the bananas?”

James smiles: “From … a store.”

Cleaper: “I am screwed.”

James: "Forgive me, I am a bit eccentric. Most geniuses are, you know. You can find what you seek in my pocket.”

Cleaper: “What, do you have a key in there that will get me out?”

James: “No, in my pocket is the way out. A portal pocket. Just dive right in.”

Cleaper: “Your pocket isn’t big enough.”

James: “Oh, maybe you can try that door over there. But before you go, there may be danger behind that door. You may not like it in there. Also, don’t let anyone in, especially if they look like me.”

Cleaper grabs James by the jacket collar: “You mean it’s been there this whole time, and you knew about it?”

James: “No, the door just appeared and I just now saw it. Now unhand me, you simpleton. You know I have been through that door before. It's dangerous. You shouldn't go through it."

Cleaper: "If it gets me out of here."

James: "Danger."

Cleaper opens the door and memories flash back into his mind. Long lost, bad memories.

Cleaper: "No...not this place. Anywhere but here."