The Zoo

“Ahhhhhhh!” said a strange man jolting up from the ground.  He looked around and saw trees everywhere.  There were conifers, deciduous and broadleaf’s all around.  He looked above and saw sky that was blue and clouds of white
‘Where am I?’ was the only thing going through his mind at the time.  He had no memory of anything that had happened before this.  He didn’t know his name, he didn’t know who his family was he didn’t know anything except that five seconds ago he awoke in this strange forest.  Maybe it was a dream and he will really wake up at any moment.  ‘
“Wait a minute,” he thought, “what are the chances of this actually being a dream?” His head was filled with questions but he put them a side and decided to focus on what he was going to do.
         So the strange man stood up and noticed a road far off in the distance.  Sprinting across the vast landscape of trees and well… more trees and he eventually arrived at his destination.  The road was narrow and paved, running right through the woods.  There was a slight incline to the left and it seemed to be the correct way to go.
         Halfway up the road he heard shouting and a ringing sensation in his ears. 
         “Hold ‘em back, boys” a low voice cried.  “Don’t let ‘em take the hill!”  Then the strange man heard a scream.
“Nancy’s been shot!” another voice called out, this time it was higher pitched and more frightened.  The strange man saw movement as he walked closer.  There were other men and women up at the top, they hadn’t noticed him yet.  As the man with no current name ran up the hill he saw the other people run to the side behind the trees.  When he got to the top, they were all gone.  There were no people and no bodies.  The only thing there was an envelope sitting on the top of the hill.  One might say that it was directly in the center.  He bent down to pick it up and it felt wet and worn.  The cover had already started to peel so he lifted it and saw that there was a note in it. Carefully he took out the note and unfolded it in his hand.

"Congratulations,
         You have successfully found your way to the hill and have not died or gone completely mental yet.  We have decided to reward you for this by giving you some information.  We will give you one thing.  You were born as Mr. Jonathan Alexander Emerson.  That is all for now."

         Jon looked at the note and then at the envelope, he noticed that there was something else in the envelope as well.  He stuck his hand in and pulled out a small, thin square, piece of metal.  It had three characters burned into one side, 12-B.  The metal dropped out of Jon’s hand and made a ‘clunk’ when it hit the ground. His hand remained empty and in the same position.  He didn’t notice that there was someone coming up behind him with a night stick and an officers’ uniform. 
         “Papers,” said a shrewd voice.  Jon snapped back to reality and spun around still holding the envelope in his hand.  A young-looking officer looked down at the letter and ripped it from Jon’s hand.  The officer looked it over and then looked that Jon from over paper.  He folded it up and put it into his own shirt pocket.
         “Come with me please,” the officer said coldly, grabbing Jon’s hand and dragging him along.  Jon went with him but tried to get the guard to turn around and get the metal.  However, the guard ignored his cries.
         Jon fussed about until he decided to go with the flow and so he stood up with the officer still latched onto his upper arm.  They arrived at a small building shortly after and the officer led him inside.  There was afire burning in a wood stove and Jon could smell the fresh fragrance of balsam fir.  It must have come from the incense on the table.  The table on which it stood was on the left side of the room and there was a bed on the other side.
         The officer motioned Jon to sit down in a chair as the guard himself sat on the other side of the table.  He picked up something off the ground but Jon was too busy looking at the interior of the cabin to notice that it was a large typewriter.  Jon’s eyesight swirled back to the guard as he loaded up the typewriter.
         “Name?” said the officer with a shrill voice.
         “Jonathan Alexander Emerson,” Jon answered trying best to remember what the letter said.
         “Birth date?”
         “All I know is what was on that letter.”  When Jon said this the guard looked at him with nasty, impatient face.  The guard took out the piece of parchment and handed it to Jon.
         “Read it Mr. Emerson,” commanded the officer.  Jon opened the paper and looked at it hard.
He flipped it over several times until saying, “There’s nothing written on it, this surly must be a mistake.  Maybe you took out the wrong piece of paper.”  It was then when Jon noticed the officer’s badge on his shoulder.  He stopped talking and starred at it.  Then he pointed at it, “You’re badge!”
The guard looked confused and then moved his arm so he could see it as well.  “What about my badge?” exclaimed the guard with a meaner tone?
“Those numbers, 12-B, those were the numbers on the scrap of metal!” 
“What are you talking about?  These are my identification numbers.  What scrap of metal?”  The guard was really starting to teeter on the edge.  Jon looked at him now with a confused face.
“Identification numbers,” Jon’s mouth was partially agape. “What do you mean by, identification numbers?”
“It is what we officers use to identify ourselves over the communications device.”  The guard was wondering why Jon didn’t know any of this.  “It is much easier that saying the full name.”  Jon fell back in his chair and the guard shot up from his own.  “Sir what is the matter with you?”  The officer was really yelling now.  Jon got up and was grabbed by the shoulders.  Jon slowly turned his head towards the officers and looked at him with a frown.
All of a sudden, Jon broke away from the guard’s grip and dashed out the door.  He ran as fast as he could into the surrounding woods.  There was something strange about this place and he was going to find out what.  The guard, who was now more confused than Jon, was close on his tail.  They ran through the woods, evading trees but once in a while they would hit a cold wet branch and as it slashed across their cheeks it would leave little water droplets and a red line.  The officer started to catch up to Jon until he leaped over a tree branch and the unsuspecting official tripped and fell flat on his face in the cold wet mud.
The guard soon got up and was back on the trail once more but Jon was way ahead.  Pretty soon, Jon arrived at a long line of barbed wire and stopped short, just barely sliding under it with out receiving major damage, just a slight scrape on his upper left arm.  After getting up, he shook his head and wiped the dirt from his face and then stood in place.  The guard arrived there shortly after and cautiously slid his body in between two strands of barbed wire. 
“What has gotten into you, sir,” the officer said trying to get his handcuffs off, not noticing Jon staring blankly at the small dirt path in front of him.  It was very faint and was well hidden in between the bush around it.  The Officer walked up and turned Jon around.
“What has gotten into you?” He asked now that he was done with his cuffs. “Look, if you want to arrest me, fine.  However, it won’t do you any good.”  Jon sighed for a moment.  “I don’t know what is going on but for some reason, something about this isn’t right and I feel as though this isn’t real.”
“Five minuets ago you were very confused, what are you talking about.”
“A “vision” just appeared in my head when I saw your badge and for now I am starting to get a weird sensation that…”
“What, what!”
“That there is someone, or something, watching us,” Jon stared out in to space after he finished his sentence.  Then he slowly walked onto the path and made sure to stay on it.  Then without looking behind him he began to speak.
“If you’re going to follow me than stay on the path I am going on and do not take one step off of it.”  The officer looked up at Jon.  Then without a sound he began to follow Jon being extra careful not to step off the path. 
“Do you have a name?” Jon asked the guard who was not far behind him. 
“My name is Officer Marc, I think,”
“Okay then,” Jon agreed and they continued on the path.  They kept walking through the shrubs and Jon noticed that there was some sort of white wooly substance hanging from twigs and thorns that were next to the old path. 
They continued through until Jon lost the path.  He stopped and looked around cautiously.  He raised his head high and then heard Marc pointing and trying to get his attention.  The path was cut off by a large shrub that grew into the middle.  They didn’t know how they were going to get over the bush. 
Jon mentioned jumping but it would be too difficult.  They decided to sit down and think about it for a while.
Minutes passed, and then Marc got up and saw that there was barbed wire a couple of feet ahead of the shrub.
“Jon, we could risk jumping and then escape onto the other side of that barbed wire over there.” Jon darted up and then agreed.  Marc got behind Jon and they backed up a ways.  Mr. Emerson shut his eyes and breathed deeply.  Then when he opened his eyes he ran straight for the bush but jumped.  His legs fell into it and then he crashed on the ground.  He lifted his head with slight pain and then began to crawl.
“Are you okay?” Cried the guard when he saw what happened.
“Go, just jump,” Jon said in a firm voice.  Marc attempted and instead just ran right through.  When Jon got up he and Marc hurried towards the barbed wire.  They ran as fast as they could and heard the sounds of a large gust of wind right behind them.  They dived down and struggled underneath the barbed wire.
On the other side, they stood up and as Marc was fussing about the damage he had done to his uniform he noticed Jon standing blankly.  They were no longer in the middle of the forest as it seemed when they were on the other side of the wire.  They were standing in a vast field of grass and not much else.  They looked over their shoulders and saw the forest on the other side of the fence.  There was a canopy hanging over their heads.  They stood there staring out into the, what seemed to be never ending, stretch of land.  The forest ran for miles to both the left and right.  Jon walked forward and Marc walked next to him as they went to see if there was anything at all in this new land.
Marc got out his nightstick and they began walking forward.  They went up hills and down hills and looked out into the distance.  Eventually they came to a small gathering of tall weeds in a small lowered basin.  Marc pointed it out and they turned and walked down towards it.  They squeezed through the brush and then saw a small lagoon.  Marc walked to the left of the pond while Jon stood looking in.  It was incredibly murky.  It made him start to think about what could be making it murky like that.
         “Hey, Jon,” called Marc and Jon snapped back to reality.  He ran in marcs direction to find him looking down at a small stone structure tilted out of the grass.  It was a stone door protruding from the ground, probably leading to an underground tunnel.
         “Where do you think it leads?” Jon asked as he inspected the stonework.  Before Marc had found it, it was completely covered in vines and bushes.
         “Down,” Marc said seriously.  Jon turned around with a grin and began to lightly chuckle under his breath.  “What!  That is probably where it goes.”
         “Never mind, how do you think it opens?” Jon pushed back more vines and tried to find the mechanism that opens it.
Just then, Marc took his nightstick and walked slowly to the door.  He lifted up the stick and placed it into a small hole in the stone which was covered by a vine leaf.  It fit in and there was just enough space to put his hand on the grip.  Jon stopped what he was doing and looked at the officer.  Marc turned it like a key and heard a click; he then turned it more and heard another click.  It continued to turn the night stick until it was stuck.  Jon and Marc stepped back as they heard more noises coming form beyond the door.
         “How did you do that?” Jon asked looking over at the officer.  However, before the officer was able to respond, the doors swung out and then the two men saw into the staircase on the other side.  They started to walk down it and continued for a while until they heard a clunk behind them.  They found that the doors closed and that there was only a strange light coming from newly existent candles.  They looked at each other with confusion and then Jon walked ahead.  There came a short hall way and then another door.  Jon opened the wooden door and saw that they were now in a medieval dinning room.  They seemed to be in an old fort; the only catch was that everything in the room looked in mint condition.
         There was a big wooden table in the middle with food and goblets and all those kinds of things on it.  There were also bookshelves full of food and wine bottles.  They walked around the table wondering how this got here and then saw a door on the other side of the room.  They opened it and came to a very small hallway, with a door on the other side.  Opening the other door they came to an empty dusty room of the same size as the last.  Jon walked into the middle of the room.
         “This is what I call a dungeon room,” he said.  Marc walked up behind a him with his head up at the ceiling and his jaw dropped.  He tapped Jon on the shoulder and he replied with “what”.  Marc pointed to the ceiling and then Jon imitated Marc’s expression.  It was an entire replication of the last room, planted upside-down on the ceiling.  Marc fell down on the floor, dizzy with confusion and anxiety.
         They stayed in that position for a while until Jon decided that the best idea would be to get out of there while they can.  He noticed yet another door on the other side of the room and kicked Marc to get up.  Marc slowly got up followed Jon through the next door.  When he entered the door he bumped into Jon’s back who was standing stiff.  He noticed that Jon was looking down and when Marc looked down he saw that they were standing on a small stone over hang and below them was pretty much nothing but empty void and darkness.  There was rickety wood bridge, connected to a tall stone platform, in front of Jon.
         “Well, I guess we’re going to have to cross,” said Marc trying to get around Jon with out falling.  He cautiously stepped one foot onto the bridge.  Marc was actually not as brave as he is when he is around his “clients”.  He is happy in his log cabin and he is happy when he is alone in it with a warm fire to keep him from getting a cold.  Any way he continued to place his feet on the bridge.  He closed his eyes and made his way to the other end.  Jon did the same right behind him, and then they continued on through the next door, this time with Marc in the lead.  The next room was dark and had red stains on the wall.  There were wooden tables scattered around the room.  They too had red stains on them.
         “I don’t really want to know what those stains are from,” Jon said.  Marc didn’t say anything; he just heavily choked for a second as if he were to throw up.  Jon walked forward and Marc walked to inspect on of the tables, even though he was disgusted by it.  Jon walked around looking for something special.  He looked at the tables and under them until he spotted a piece of metal.  It had a couple of characters burned into one side.  He picked it up and called out to Marc.  Nothing.  He tried again and still got no response.  He spun around and found that Marc wasn’t even in the room.  He raced around the room and noticed that there was no sign of Marc or Marc’s body.  There was no new door and no trap doors in the floor.  He spun around several times and raced around the room several times.  He opened the door he came in form and raced out onto the stone platform.  The only thing was that there wasn’t a stone platform; it was only a painting of the bridge.  Jon placed his hands all around the painting and found that it was against a hard surface such as metal or flat stone.  His heart was pacing faster and then he ran to the center of the room.
         “WHERE IS THIS ACURSED PLACE?” he screamed at the walls.  Nothing.  He sat on his knees in the middle of the room.  “Who are you?” he said quietly under his breath.  The metal slab rolled out of his hand and hit the floor.  Its black characters faced up at the ceiling.

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Below is the ending i originally wrote. I wrote it to make the story a bit easier to understand. It sort of detracts from the surreality of the story, so if you like the unanswered mysteries of the story, don't read the ending.
*          *          *

“Good, this is perfect,” A man in a black suit said, looking down at a computer console.
“Shall we continue, sir?” said a younger man in a brown suit standing next to him.
“Not just yet, give it a little more time.” The first man said stroking his small goatee. 
“Of course, sir,” said the second man.
“Oh and one other thing,” The black suited man said.
“Yes, sir”
“Tell our sponsors that ‘The Zoo’ will be ready shortly.”
“Consider is done, sir,” and with that the second man left.  The man looked at the computer screen eyeing a certain little figure moving around.
“This has worked out much better than I planned.” The man turned around and left the room.  “Watch him,” he said to a man with an officer’s uniform. “Oh, and get yourself another nightstick.”  The officer smiled and walked over towards the computer screen.

END