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Description
Chapter 1: Blotched
Irony struck Ashley in the form of paper. Defenceless, she slouched near the edge of an oval glass table, the single sheet of paper crunched from frustration. She leaned on her elbow, reading the second most frightening piece of paper she would find in her life:

Dear Ashley

You were late for Friday. Silly girl. Don't contact me. Didn't want you saving anyone anyway, this job is for good-hearted people. Not idiots such as myself or yourself or those around you. Give up, and head to the café for a thousand boiling cups of coffee. Maybe you can waste caffeine's time instead of mine.

Brad Martinet

The letter's cryptic meaning confused her endlessly. Checking her phone, the building's clocks and the bronze watch on her right wrist confirmed to Ashley that she was in fact early by at least ten minutes. Checking the date told her today was Wednesday and not Friday. The strangest part of the message above all, however, was its existence; Brad Martinet was a stern executive who talked and wrote formally, never committing even the lightest of pranks on his associates. This left Ashley with only one suspect- a man named Steve who Brad had warned her about repeatedly the previous week.
Her mobile became animate with a timid vibration.
"Hello?"
From the speaker came the deep voice of Brad Martinet.
"Are you reading a note now?"
"Yes."
"What does it say?"
Ashley replied by reading out the message.
"You don't think I wrote that, did you? If not, stay where you are, I'm on my way there now. I'll meet you in approximately two minutes."
Ashley clicked the phone shut and crossed her arms, looking to the black leather chair sitting behind the opposite end of the glass table. In front of this chair she noticed a pile of papers stacked neatly next to a trio of violet pens. Considering the peculiarity of her small letter, Ashley slid off her current position and approached the block of white, unaware that in this pile the worst piece of wretched paper she would ever see lay dormant.
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Brad rarely walked alone. Close colleagues would trail behind or aside him, consistently discussing schedules and rumours regarding corporate controversy. The labyrinth of white he found himself trawling through daily created a sense of hopelessness, as he knew his destiny lay in remaining confined, acting as the guide for others who considered this job as a mere step towards greater success.
"I thought today would go smoothly, Bradley."
Brad took no notice of Steve, one of the many oddities fate would assign him for the day. He smelt like a rainforest, sweet yet dense. Brad had not asked why.
"Bradley, I must apologize, but could we at least slow down? Suits are not designed for such inconvenience."
"I'm afraid you do not understand. Someone has already forged my writing to try and divert her attention. We have to get there before she notices the rest of them."
"The rest of what?"
"The other papers. A small pile opposite the desk."
"Surely they can't be too bad. What harm can words do to such a dedicated employee?"
"Not words, Steve. Pictures; those which you won't wish to see."
"Pornography?"
"No. I told you, it's something you wouldn't want to see."
Steve chuckled, his deep voice echoing across the hall, "well then, I guess I've been checkmated. At least my daughter will have a story to hear when I arrive home."
"This is the kind of story you tell to your daughter? You disgust me more by the second," Brad spat, noticing the white door ahead. It led to the room where Ashley found the note.
"Let's see if you'll tell her about what's behind here."
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Steve had a disturbing imagination, yet when the wooden door opened itself to reveal its contents, his mind fizzed into a state of panic; he found a young, slender woman with waving red hair curled in a fetal position with different scraps of paper scattered across the room. Two leather chairs had been thrown off balance, the sight causing Brad to feel trapped in a restricting block of stone, unable to move.
"Ashley, what happened?" Steve asked.
She howled, startling him. Brad did not flinch, slowly walking up to her as if he had expected this. Steve looked at a piece of paper and instantly felt cereal fill his throat.
Distorted, monstrous images of Ashley flitted across the room in a grotesque detail, each piece of paper containing a different deformity which she would never forget for her remaining lifetime. The confusion which lay in all the chaos- the cause of all this- lay in Brad's mind, trapped within a frightening vault he would open to her in a moment. For now, he felt competent in tossing his briefcase aside and leaning down beside her.
"I'm sorry this had to happen."
She whimpered. Brad felt like he had also apologized to himself for experiencing the sight.
"But I'll explain everything. Just let me help you stand up- that's perfect."
Steve picked up Brad's briefcase while Ashley sat on a leather chair near the door. She angrily swept a batch of papers clean from the desk while Brad took out an unusual item from his briefcase to present to her: a mirror.
"I know this is absurd, but I'll explain everything in a moment. Look at this."
To Brad's surprise, she obeyed immediately, only to find meeting her gaze a fragile yet beautiful woman whose cheeks had been dampened with sorrow. The sunlight which shone through the paned glass behind her, scattered into a flash of colours, shining as if a rainbow had experienced a supernova. The moment appeared surreal, as if beyond nature, until Brad removed the mirror and set it on the table.
"Now, the cause of all this."
Ashley already felt a desire to tear him apart, for being traumatised and ridiculed without the protection of a single soul. The anger made her throat tense. She still could not completely trust the origins of the note she found at the beginning, causing her to experience the feeling that she was sitting next to the biggest liar on Earth. Steve sat down gravely, knowing now the sense behind his talk earlier.
"If you look at this with a technical eye, this was all my fault."
"Dear God Bradley, you freak!" roared Steve, his voice echoing.
"But I myself did not do this. When I say this, I don't mean that I have a twin or an alter ego. It's something more personal than that."
Puzzlement flared through her eyes. Anger remained in Steve's.
"There exists a condition known as the Nox. It's where the individual's subconscious thoughts and memories all merge into a physical, living form. Basically, it's a personal parasite. The Nox which is created represents every subconscious metaphor ever conceived in your mind, and grows more independent and self-aware through time. Since the Nox stems from your subconscious, it is capable of stealing personal traits and making disturbing thoughts real, as it does not truly follow the laws of nature."
The desire to tear him apart grew more intense with each word.
"Imagine yourself flying. You can do that, yes?"
Ashley imagined punching Brad in the face.
"Well, you can do that in your mind, but not in here, the real world. When you are infected with the Nox, the creature created contains properties which constitute the physics within your thoughts. A Nox can fly without wings, or live underwater without breathing, all because you can imagine so."
There existed a mental race between Ashley and Steve to see who could remain seated and take this nonsense the longest. Both remained still, feeling the strain start to overwhelm them.
"However, a Nox is still mainly influenced by your thoughts and feelings. My Nox left the note there, because I secretly did not want this meeting to take place."
"And why would that be?" asked Steve.
"Because I'm scared of what will happen if it's completed. My Nox knows this is a dangerous assignment to me emotionally, so tried to protect me by placing these mental obstacles. But today must be done."
"And what about those disturbing images of me? Do you think of me as a freak?"
"My Nox cannot create perfectly clear memories. Any image it recreates will be distorted- think of when you look at a mirror in a dream, you notice that your reflection does not match your appearance."
To Ashley, the Nox seemed as superficial as the note. She had never heard of such a term in her life, but then she thought of Brad and his serious nature, Brad and his normal calmness and Brad, his expression containing the mixture of both. She decided she would at least inquire of the meeting's contents.
"I was going to assign you the task of finding a young man named Richard Dutton. He lives in California and was separated from his parents at the age of six. This company here had him live a life without adoption by placing a fake babysitter and cameras around the house, because they thought he was a Nox. But he's not a Nox, he's a victim. I want you to find him and bring him here, to me."
Too fast. Ashley and Steve asked him to repeat certain details, and when he did their questions divided like bacteria. He knew he could not qualm all queries. At least, to him, he mission had been revealed, a mountain finally revealing its summit after a treacherous climb over haze and mist. Ashley Summers had been assigned the task of defying the company whose space she breathed in, all for the sake of serving a man whose words and explanations may not even be real.
"And why do you want to rescue him?"
"This company has created the illusion that his mother is dead. She works here. The executives think she's inflicted with the Nox, and that Richard is the parasite. You'll realise everything as time goes by. For now, keep hold of this folder. It shall provide you with the details of this mission. Protect it with your life and destroy all its contents if anything happens."

Description
Chapter 1: Blotched
Irony struck Ashley in the form of paper. Defenceless, she slouched near the edge of an oval glass table, the single sheet of paper crunched from frustration. She leaned on her elbow, reading the second most frightening piece of paper she would find in her life:

Dear Ashley

You were late for Friday. Silly girl. Don't contact me. Didn't want you saving anyone anyway, this job is for good-hearted people. Not idiots such as myself or yourself or those around you. Give up, and head to the café for a thousand boiling cups of coffee. Maybe you can waste caffeine's time instead of mine.

Brad Martinet

The letter's cryptic meaning confused her endlessly. Checking her phone, the building's clocks and the bronze watch on her right wrist confirmed to Ashley that she was in fact early by at least ten minutes. Checking the date told her today was Wednesday and not Friday. The strangest part of the message above all, however, was its existence; Brad Martinet was a stern executive who talked and wrote formally, never committing even the lightest of pranks on his associates. This left Ashley with only one suspect- a man named Steve who Brad had warned her about repeatedly the previous week.
Her mobile became animate with a timid vibration.
"Hello?"
From the speaker came the deep voice of Brad Martinet.
"Are you reading a note now?"
"Yes."
"What does it say?"
Ashley replied by reading out the message.
"You don't think I wrote that, did you? If not, stay where you are, I'm on my way there now. I'll meet you in approximately two minutes."
Ashley clicked the phone shut and crossed her arms, looking to the black leather chair sitting behind the opposite end of the glass table. In front of this chair she noticed a pile of papers stacked neatly next to a trio of violet pens. Considering the peculiarity of her small letter, Ashley slid off her current position and approached the block of white, unaware that in this pile the worst piece of wretched paper she would ever see lay dormant.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brad rarely walked alone. Close colleagues would trail behind or aside him, consistently discussing schedules and rumours regarding corporate controversy. The labyrinth of white he found himself trawling through daily created a sense of hopelessness, as he knew his destiny lay in remaining confined, acting as the guide for others who considered this job as a mere step towards greater success.
"I thought today would go smoothly, Bradley."
Brad took no notice of Steve, one of the many oddities fate would assign him for the day. He smelt like a rainforest, sweet yet dense. Brad had not asked why.
"Bradley, I must apologize, but could we at least slow down? Suits are not designed for such inconvenience."
"I'm afraid you do not understand. Someone has already forged my writing to try and divert her attention. We have to get there before she notices the rest of them."
"The rest of what?"
"The other papers. A small pile opposite the desk."
"Surely they can't be too bad. What harm can words do to such a dedicated employee?"
"Not words, Steve. Pictures; those which you won't wish to see."
"Pornography?"
"No. I told you, it's something you wouldn't want to see."
Steve chuckled, his deep voice echoing across the hall, "well then, I guess I've been checkmated. At least my daughter will have a story to hear when I arrive home."
"This is the kind of story you tell to your daughter? You disgust me more by the second," Brad spat, noticing the white door ahead. It led to the room where Ashley found the note.
"Let's see if you'll tell her about what's behind here."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Steve had a disturbing imagination, yet when the wooden door opened itself to reveal its contents, his mind fizzed into a state of panic; he found a young, slender woman with waving red hair curled in a fetal position with different scraps of paper scattered across the room. Two leather chairs had been thrown off balance, the sight causing Brad to feel trapped in a restricting block of stone, unable to move.
"Ashley, what happened?" Steve asked.
She howled, startling him. Brad did not flinch, slowly walking up to her as if he had expected this. Steve looked at a piece of paper and instantly felt cereal fill his throat.
Distorted, monstrous images of Ashley flitted across the room in a grotesque detail, each piece of paper containing a different deformity which she would never forget for her remaining lifetime. The confusion which lay in all the chaos- the cause of all this- lay in Brad's mind, trapped within a frightening vault he would open to her in a moment. For now, he felt competent in tossing his briefcase aside and leaning down beside her.
"I'm sorry this had to happen."
She whimpered. Brad felt like he had also apologized to himself for experiencing the sight.
"But I'll explain everything. Just let me help you stand up- that's perfect."
Steve picked up Brad's briefcase while Ashley sat on a leather chair near the door. She angrily swept a batch of papers clean from the desk while Brad took out an unusual item from his briefcase to present to her: a mirror.
"I know this is absurd, but I'll explain everything in a moment. Look at this."
To Brad's surprise, she obeyed immediately, only to find meeting her gaze a fragile yet beautiful woman whose cheeks had been dampened with sorrow. The sunlight which shone through the paned glass behind her, scattered into a flash of colours, shining as if a rainbow had experienced a supernova. The moment appeared surreal, as if beyond nature, until Brad removed the mirror and set it on the table.
"Now, the cause of all this."
Ashley already felt a desire to tear him apart, for being traumatised and ridiculed without the protection of a single soul. The anger made her throat tense. She still could not completely trust the origins of the note she found at the beginning, causing her to experience the feeling that she was sitting next to the biggest liar on Earth. Steve sat down gravely, knowing now the sense behind his talk earlier.
"If you look at this with a technical eye, this was all my fault."
"Dear God Bradley, you freak!" roared Steve, his voice echoing.
"But I myself did not do this. When I say this, I don't mean that I have a twin or an alter ego. It's something more personal than that."
Puzzlement flared through her eyes. Anger remained in Steve's.
"There exists a condition known as the Nox. It's where the individual's subconscious thoughts and memories all merge into a physical, living form. Basically, it's a personal parasite. The Nox which is created represents every subconscious metaphor ever conceived in your mind, and grows more independent and self-aware through time. Since the Nox stems from your subconscious, it is capable of stealing personal traits and making disturbing thoughts real, as it does not truly follow the laws of nature."
The desire to tear him apart grew more intense with each word.
"Imagine yourself flying. You can do that, yes?"
Ashley imagined punching Brad in the face.
"Well, you can do that in your mind, but not in here, the real world. When you are infected with the Nox, the creature created contains properties which constitute the physics within your thoughts. A Nox can fly without wings, or live underwater without breathing, all because you can imagine so."
There existed a mental race between Ashley and Steve to see who could remain seated and take this nonsense the longest. Both remained still, feeling the strain start to overwhelm them.
"However, a Nox is still mainly influenced by your thoughts and feelings. My Nox left the note there, because I secretly did not want this meeting to take place."
"And why would that be?" asked Steve.
"Because I'm scared of what will happen if it's completed. My Nox knows this is a dangerous assignment to me emotionally, so tried to protect me by placing these mental obstacles. But today must be done."
"And what about those disturbing images of me? Do you think of me as a freak?"
"My Nox cannot create perfectly clear memories. Any image it recreates will be distorted- think of when you look at a mirror in a dream, you notice that your reflection does not match your appearance."
To Ashley, the Nox seemed as superficial as the note. She had never heard of such a term in her life, but then she thought of Brad and his serious nature, Brad and his normal calmness and Brad, his expression containing the mixture of both. She decided she would at least inquire of the meeting's contents.
"I was going to assign you the task of finding a young man named Richard Dutton. He lives in California and was separated from his parents at the age of six. This company here had him live a life without adoption by placing a fake babysitter and cameras around the house, because they thought he was a Nox. But he's not a Nox, he's a victim. I want you to find him and bring him here, to me."
Too fast. Ashley and Steve asked him to repeat certain details, and when he did their questions divided like bacteria. He knew he could not qualm all queries. At least, to him, he mission had been revealed, a mountain finally revealing its summit after a treacherous climb over haze and mist. Ashley Summers had been assigned the task of defying the company whose space she breathed in, all for the sake of serving a man whose words and explanations may not even be real.
"And why do you want to rescue him?"
"This company has created the illusion that his mother is dead. She works here. The executives think she's inflicted with the Nox, and that Richard is the parasite. You'll realise everything as time goes by. For now, keep hold of this folder. It shall provide you with the details of this mission. Protect it with your life and destroy all its contents if anything happens."