The Enhanced!

By Natasha Kern and Corey Kern

Derrick suffers from Athazagoraphobia, the fear of being forgotten. His whole life has been dictated by this disorder. Despite only having a real connection with one other person, his brother, Derrick has always felt immense pressure to be the life of the party, to be memo

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasha & Corey Kern
• Release date: Feb 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781087994529

Book preview

Chapter One: Athazagoraphobia

1!

Derrick woke up in a hospital bed. He knew neither how he got there nor how long he had been there. All he did know, as he came to full consciousness, was that the room he was in was very dark. He moved to sit up. As he did so, a feeling of nausea overcame him. He turned to the side of the bed to stand, but as he leaned forward, he threw up instead.

Once his insides stopped spilling out, Derrick wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and looked up. His surroundings came into focus. The first thing he brought into focus was the bed on which he was sitting. He found he was not on a hospital bed at all, but rather on what looked like a metal laboratory bed. Only one light bulb on the ceiling was functional; the rest were shattered. Blood, which looked like it had been thrown by the bucketful, covered the once white walls. On the white, tiled floor, two dead nurses in white outfits were also covered in blood.  Fear consumed him. But rather than the fear putting him in a panic, somehow, it helped him focus. He was quite used to fear. His memory rushed back to him, reminding him how he got to this place and why.

The laboratory belonged to a company named The Garza Institute. Their supposed goal was to cure patients of mental illness. A couple of days earlier, Derrick had signed up to participate in a study for a procedure to rid him of a crippling phobia and pay him handsomely to do so. A win-win situation, or at least, he thought it would be. It was clear, though, that while he was under, something terrible had happened. He needed to get out.

Derrick rushed towards a robe still hanging up on the wall across from him.  His legs felt unsteady, like he had spent a long while on a cruise ship. As he approached the robe, he had to step over one of the dead bodies. The nurse must have been pretty when she was alive, he thought to himself. Now, her hair was matted with blood, and her eyes were frozen open with an expression of terror. What happened here?! He wondered.

Derrick grabbed for the robe and slipped it on. It had some blood on it but appeared clean mostly, at least on the inside. He then noticed a door to the right of the hook that had seconds ago held the robe. Derrick grabbed for the handle. The door was unlocked. He flung it open with more strength than he meant and sent it crashing against the wall. Without stopping, he stumbled into the hallway.

The hallway, like the laboratory room, was dark.  The only lights in the hall were the emergency lights flickering. Derrick looked first left and then right, trying to find an exit. He squinted in the dark, trying to see a sign, any sign that would point the way out. There was nothing. Making a snap decision, he turned left and headed toward the end of the hallway.

There were rooms on both sides of Derrick as he ran down the hall.  He resolved to keep his sights set in front of him. He needed to focus on the goal of escape, but he was also afraid of what he might see in those rooms. What he had already seen in his own room would stick with him until the day he died. There was no reason to make it any worse.

Reaching the end of the hallway, he found he again had two options: left or right. Again, he went left, hoping he was making the correct decision. He wished he could remember how he had entered the facility, but there was no time to concentrate on that. He was more worried about surviving than doing memory exercises. A few feet further, he made a blind right turn into another corridor. There, a young woman standing in the middle of the hallway with her back to him startled him.

Hey! How do we get outta here?! he called to her, too desperate to wait until he caught up.

Even with the distance that separated Derrick from the young woman, he could tell she was scared. It was also clear that he had startled her, just as much as she had startled him. She jumped and whipped her body around to face him. He could hear her crying.

Who’s there? she yelled in his direction. Derrick realized that she couldn't see him because of how dark it was in the building.

Derrick took a few steps forward and yelled, It doesn’t matter who I am. The important thing is that right now, we need to find a way out of here! There are dead bodies and blood everywhere. I don’t know what happened to them, but we’re next unless we find the exit! Do you know the way out? Derrick’s voice had risen to almost a shriek. He knew that it was the fear, and he could tell this woman was in shock. He hoped, though, that she would snap out of it once she realized that he was no threat to her and tell him where the exit was.

Instead of helping him, the young woman took off running and screaming in the other direction. She was fast. Derrick took off after her. His presence had not snapped her out of her shock. He needed to catch her and help her calm down. She was hope of finding a way out of this nightmare.

Derrick continued to race after the woman for what seemed like an eternity. Right. Left. Right. Two more lefts. He was losing his sense of direction and had no idea how to get back to where they had come from. It didn’t matter. He wanted to move forward, away from the death and destruction, not back toward it. The girl continued to run. Derrick was falling further and further behind her. He could no longer see her. The sound of her crying and screaming served as his only bearing in the dark facility. Her screaming was horrible, too. It never stopped, except when she would yell at him to leave her alone.

She can’t think I’m the killer, can she? Derrick thought to himself.

The young woman ducked into a room to her right. Once Derrick caught up, he entered the room. The woman was lying on the floor curled into a ball with her back against the far-left corner of the room. She was sobbing.

Please, don’t kill me! Whatever happened to you wasn’t my fault! she screamed.

What is she talking about? Derrick asked himself. He looked around the room, desperate to find something, anything, that could help him. There were only two objects in the otherwise plain, white room. To his immediate right, there was a bed covered with a white sheet and white pillow. On the wall to his left was a mirror bolted to the wall.

She must be talking about me, he realized. What happened to me? Derrick looked himself over, fearing that he had an unnoticed injury. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

There’s nothing wrong with me, Derrick told the woman. Let me help you.

Derrick stepped toward her, reaching out his hand to calm her. As he did so, she screamed. She closed her eyes and put her hands out to block him. Flames suddenly shot from her hands, igniting Derrick’s robe.

Derrick let out a sharp yell and separated himself from the robe, falling to his back and down the wall as he did. Derrick looked straight up into what he had thought was a mirror. It couldn't have been a mirror because as he stared into it, he saw only an empty room. Then he noticed he could see his robe lying on the floor, burning.

What the hell? He thought to himself. Where am I? Suddenly, the events in the hallway with the girl came flooding back: her not being able to see him in the hallway and her fear of him whenever he spoke. It was not because she was in shock or the hallway was dark.

Was he invisible?

Not knowing what else to do, Derrick got up and rushed back out of the room, forgetting the woman on the floor. All he knew was that he had to get out. A thousand questions raced through his head all at once. What happened to him? Was he dead? How did his robe catch on fire? This place was worse than a nightmare because at least in a nightmare, you can wake up. This was different. This was real.

Derrick raced through the halls as his panic continued to consume him. Somehow, though he did not know how, he found the exit. He burst through the double doors and emerged outside.

On the other side of the doors was a scene as grim as the one from which Derrick had escaped. There were two more young women in the parking lot of the facility. One was on an ambulance gurney, and the other was talking to a pair of police officers. Blood drenched both girls.

In surprise. everyone looked toward the doors that Derrick had burst through, but it was clear by their reaction that none saw him.

This was Derrick’s greatest fear. Athazagoraphobia: the fear of being forgotten. It was the entire reason he was here in the first place. It was a disease with which Derrick had been diagnosed when he was ten years old. As a young child, Derrick's parents abandoned him at a park in Lexington, Kentucky. Derrick's psychologist believed this tragic event to be the origin of his phobia. Derrick felt a crippling burden of obligation to avoid his phobia by introducing and reintroducing himself to people. He would often have severe panic attacks when people had forgotten they had met before.

The study at this medical research facility was supposed to be his cure. Instead, Derrick now stood in front of a crowd of people who couldn't see him. A crowd of people who could never meet him, who would never know he existed. Derrick felt a familiar, terrifying sensation bubbling up inside of him. He felt panic. He felt fear. He felt helpless, as if nothing else in the world mattered because he did not matter. This was the same feeling he got every time someone had to ask him his name for a second time. The same feeling he got when someone had forgotten they had met before. Things were so much worse now. These people couldn't forget about him because they never even knew that he existed. They would never see him. The fear became so intense that he thought it would cause his body to explode. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. All he could do was panic.

Derrick looked around, hoping someone would see him, would recognize him, but deep down, he knew that they could not. Instead, he saw people going back to their work. Then, before he knew what he was doing, Derrick screamed. At first, it was a piercing sound with no words. Then, it progressed into syllables. Derrick couldn't control what was coming out of his mouth. All he could do was ride the wave of panic and hope for it to end, much like a passenger in a car crash.

I’M REAL!! He yelled at the top of his lungs in a shrill voice that sounded nothing like his normal one. I’M REAL AND YOU WILL ACKNOWLEDGE ME!!

Everyone, once again, turned to face the doors from whence he had come. This time, there was more than surprise on their faces. This time there was also terror. One woman let out a scream and started to cry. The cops all drew their weapons and pointed this way and that, trying to find the source of the noise and let it know that they were in charge.

Again, Derrick let out a yell. This time, it was so loud and high-pitched that it shattered the windows of nearby vehicles.

I EXIST!! Derrick shrieked at the crowd. Derrick took off in a dead sprint, knocking over several cops and rescue workers. Even though he was not in his right mind, Derrick’s instincts still knew the way home. His feet carried him in that direction.

Derrick did not remember the details of the run home. All he remembered was the panic that coursed through him as he did. He had no idea how long he had run or how far. All that he knew now was that the panic was subsiding. Once again, Derrick found himself in control.

Several thoughts emerged within his psyche. Derrick had no idea what had happened to him in that medical center.  The idea, of course, had crossed his mind that he was a ghost. The other possibility, which he was more willing to accept, was this was a dream. As he approached his campus house at the local university, he decided there was only one way to find out. Derrick pinched himself as hard as he could. It hurt, but it did not wake him into a calmer, less confusing world. Apparently, this was not a dream. So, was he dead?

Derrick approached the front door of the house, which sat on a patio. He tried the doorknob, but the house was locked. Derrick descended back down the three worn, grey patio stairs and turned to face the house. The entire house was the same dull, grey color as the porch, and it was clear that it had seen better days. The university wasted no money on its upkeep, and it showed. Shingles were missing off the roof, and several windows were cracked. Because of the lack of attention to the building, none of the windows had working locks. This was a security risk but not a worry on a small, private campus in a small town.

Derrick rounded the left side of the house and found the window into the dining room. Underneath the window was a bucket he and his roommate had put there one night when they had locked themselves out after too much fun at a party. Derrick climbed onto the bucket and opened the window leading into his home. As he climbed through the window, his foot got stuck on the windowsill. He spilled into the dining room with a loud crashing sound.

Derrick lay on his back for a few seconds on the dining room floor, looking at the ceiling. He was suddenly extremely tired and was struggling to stay awake. He lay there and contemplated what would happen if he fell asleep. Would he disappear into the afterlife? He had no idea. The only thing he knew was that he was losing the battle with fatigue. He tried to come up with something witty to mutter just in case this was the end. His last words. He tried hard to think of something, but exhaustion made his brain numb. In the end, he muttered one phrase.

Dammit, I’m not wearing any pants.

With that, he fell into unconsciousness.

2!

Dude, wake the fuck up. What the hell’re you doing?

Derrick felt a kick to his ribs. He opened his eyes. His head was cloudy. He could see the white, peeling ceiling of his dining room, though the light from the window partially blinded him.

What the hell, dude. You go too hard last night’r what?

It was his roommate, Freddy. He and Freddy had been brothers and best friends ever since Freddy’s parents had adopted Derrick. The two had been through everything together. When Derrick turned over to his side, he saw a look he rarely saw on his brother’s face: concern.

What’s wrong? Derrick asked.

Well, for one, I can see your dick, Freddy replied.

Derrick looked down and realized that he was naked. Quickly, his hands dropped to cover himself up. Then, another realization hit him.

You can see me, Derrick said.

A little too much, Freddy responded. What happened to you last night?

Derrick thought back to the night before and everything that he had thought had happened to him. It must have been a crazy dream. He tried to remember what he did but couldn't. He must have partied really hard.

Dude, I have no idea. I don’t remember anything, Derrick said. Must’ve been fun, though, if it ended like this.

Freddy laughed. His pale face lightened from its concerned expression

Freddy helped Derrick to his feet, careful not to look at any of Derrick’s exposed body parts. The two boys were about the same height, roughly six feet. This was not the only physical similarity the two shared. The boys looked so much alike that most people believed them to be blood-related. Both had brown hair, pale skin, and both boys were slim in stature.

I gotta tell you about this crazy dream that I had, Derrick told Freddy.

Alright, man, but can you put some damn pants on first?

Derrick laughed as he brushed by his friend and up the stairs. The top of the stairs led to the two upstairs bedrooms and one bathroom. Derrick took a quick left-handed U-turn and went into his room. Usually, these houses had three students staying in them. Recently, the third wheel in this house had been forced to move back into a campus dormitory after one of the group's legendary parties. Freddy was not just Derrick’s brother but also his best friend. Ever since they had met, Derrick couldn't care less about any person in the entire world except Freddy. The parties were a way for Derrick to ensure that as many people knew him as possible on campus. It helped with his phobia. Many people knew of Derrick, but only Freddy knew Derrick.

As Derrick entered his room, he took a quick look around to mentally inventory what was available to him. As usual, his room was a mess. The bed, which was against the wall to the right of the door, was not made. There were sheets on the floor and clothes on the bed. The desk across the room was covered with a mixture of schoolwork, technology, and past meals. Against the left-side wall was a closet, which was open with clothes and had boxes spilling out of it.

Derrick walked the short distance to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a black tee-shirt. Then, he went over to his dresser, which was also exploding with clothes and old meals. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of plaid boxers and black socks. Derrick jumped into his clothes and headed back down the stairs toward the living room. There, he saw his roommate eating a bowl of cereal and surfing the web on his laptop.

Okay, let me tell you about this dream.

Immediately, Derrick sat down on the tan couch by Freddy and began to give a full account of his dream. For most of the story, Freddy seemed like he was only half-listening, which was typical. Though, that changed when Derrick described the scene outside of the medical facility.

Wait. Tell me that part again! Freddy said with urgency in his voice.

Man, listen the first time, Derrick said jokingly.

Seriously. Tell me again.

Okay. Like I said, I came running out of the doors in the dream, and there were several people outside. I think there were cops and two women, but I’m not sure. It was all a blur.

Holy shit, are you fucking with me?

No. Why?

Seriously. Are you fucking with me?

No, I swear. Why?

Check this out. Freddy pounded away on his laptop keyboard. His eyes jumped back and forth as he scanned the screen. When he found what he was looking for, he turned his laptop toward Derrick. On the screen was an article from the local newspaper dated from the day before. The headline read, Tragedy at Local Medical Facility. Underneath the headline was a photo of the scene of the crime. The photo looked like a typical crime scene photo. There were cops and victims, ambulances and police cars. What made this picture special was the exact scene that Derrick had described from his dream.

Shit, Derrick muttered.

I saw the article this morning. I thought it was the same facility that you were supposed to have that thing done, but I assumed you didn’t go. Did you? The journalist stated that there were only three survivors and they were all women. What about you? Why didn’t they mention you? Freddy asked.

A familiar panic rose within Derrick. It was all true. He was at that medical facility. He did run through the building. He did break into his own house last night. But, if all that were true, that meant the woman who threw fire from her hands was also real. More important, somehow, he was actually invisible when it happened! How could this be? It made no sense. Derrick’s head was spinning with many emotions, not the least of which was fear.

I think I was invisible. Derrick’s voice trembled. He couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Invisible? he thought to himself. But it must be true.

Nah, man. That shit’s crazy. You’re off your rocker. You must have panicked and run outta there before anyone even noticed you. Everyone was too distracted to even notice you were there, or if they did, they forgot you. Freddy laughed; it slipped his mind who he was talking to. In the moment, Freddy did something he rarely does with Derrick. He forgot about Derrick's phobia. One phrase is guaranteed to send Derrick into a panic attack and Freddy used it. They forgot you.

Derrick did not miss the use of that phrase. He never did. Derrick heard it loud and clear. The familiar panic inside of him grew. It grew to a point where he thought it would devour him whole. Derrick felt the world swell around him and turn an ugly hue of orange. The room began to spin. Before he could do anything about it, Derrick yelled.

THEY DID NOT FORGET ME! I WAS INVISIBLE!

Freddy’s complexion became ghost white. He looked around for help. His eyes were wider than anyone would have thought possible.

Derrick! Derrick! Freddy stuck his hands out, feeling for some unknown object.

I EXIST AND NO ONE FORGOT ME! Derrick shouted. His whole body felt warm. He had no idea when this would end, but it was the most intense panic attack he had ever experienced.

Derrick, you’re right, man. You disappeared! Like, right now, you just fucking disappeared! Freddy stood up and reached toward the spot Derrick had been seconds ago. Where are you? After a couple of manic swings of his arms, Freddy grabbed Derrick’s forearm. He squeezed tight. Then, he attempted to talk in a soothing, calm voice. It was supposed to be the same voice he had used thousands of times when Derrick had one of his attacks. Instead, it came out as a small, stuttering, nervous voice. D-d-d-errick…listen...t-t-o me…I know you exist…I-I-I know you’re real…it’s going-g-g to be okay.

Although Derrick could sense Freddy’s fear, his voice still seemed to calm him down. Freddy was usually the only person that could calm him down, and this moment was no different.

It’s going to be okay. Freddy felt his voice getting stronger, as was his resolve. Somehow, he knew this was key to getting Derrick back on the visible spectrum. He didn't know how he knew it, but he felt it.

Derrick’s heartbeat declined. His breathing became less difficult. The fear heating his body dissipated. Soon, Derrick phased back into a visible spectrum. At first, he was translucent and pale. Then his image solidified into something resembling his previous self. The more that he came back, however, the more drained he felt. When he was finally visible again, he did the only thing he could. He fainted.

Still holding on to his forearm, Freddy watched his friend come back to him. Then, he felt Derrick go limp and collapse to the floor. Immediately, Freddy bent over Derrick and called his name.

Derrick, Derrick, wake up. WAKE THE FUCK UP! Not understanding what else to do, Freddy smacked Derrick across the face, hard, a little harder than he had meant to do. Unfortunately, it did not work. Freddy ran to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and turned on the faucet. Then, he filled the glass with cold water. Once the glass was full, he ran over to his friend and threw the water on him, but the glass slipped out of his hand. It tumbled through the air. Freddy watched it fall in a slow-motion stupor. He watched as it landed, smacking Derrick on the forehead.

Derrick awoke with a start, half from taking a drinking glass to his head and the other half from being doused in cold water. He opened his eyes, and the only thing he could see was a relieved, grinning Freddy standing over him.

Dude, you were invisible.

Upon waking and getting his senses about him, Derrick felt two emotions: fear and hunger. He was not sure which was more overwhelming.  He was now positive that everything that had happened the night before was real and this was who he would be from now on.

The invisible guy. Great. He thought to himself.

Although Derrick was upset, Freddy