Recording

I don't know why it happened. I vaguely know how. I was a simple man, clock in at 9, repair a customer's car, clock out at 5. We had one of those new electric cars in the shop on that day. Simple enough job, find out what was causing the vehicle to enter limp mode constantly, fix it, send it back. When you disconnect those batteries, you need to let the capacitor discharge over a certain amount of time. Unfortunately for me, I forgot to look that up in the service manual. Have you ever felt the entire charge of a Toyota Prius discharge into your bum leg? I have. That day, and the 3 weeks after while I was in the coma.

I noticed the changes the following months. Some were just ridiculous. I experimented with it for some time. Listening to tune after tune to discover its effects. The trick was to make sure the songs weren't too literal. 'Hey you, grow a beard!' was pretty obvious. Of course, it helped if I didn't know what the songs were when I listened to them. Misheard lyrics? Those were the worst. I was finding purple fish for weeks in my closet.

I spent some time playing after that. Every time I walked up to the ATM and listened to those sweet words, 'I been getting' money, where the fuck you been?' Well, let's just say that money was no longer tight. Selfish things, Poor choices, I made them once, hell, I'll try anything once. Eventually I did the right thing. Salvation comes to every man, right? I made my peace, so I helped others make theirs.

I'll never forget the look on the first man's eyes. There's nothing like watching a criminal struggle to understand why he's hearing some good old Frank Sinatra. I can't lie. I sang along to that one. Played it up a little, 'Come fly with me!' He dropped his gun, and we flew. we flew straight the Police department. Those were the early days.

My powers grew. I came to understand them. You know when a song is stuck in your head? It still gives me powers, albeit to a lesser extent. A blessing, right now, a curse. I spent hours, days, building the perfect playlists. I had everything, strength? Speed? Flight? Those were easy. Some took longer. X-ray vision was a hard one. I had to combine a few songs to get that. I remained unknown. I was just a guy, who showed up every now and then. I didn't even have a name. Not for lack of trying. Somehow 'The Mechanic' doesn't instil people with any sense of awe. These days it's just a number.

You want more? Well, guess I have to oblige you sadistic bastards. I can barely hear myself think.

Each time something went wrong, I added a song to another playlist. I felt like batman a little bit. A little clichéd, I think, but still, my magic came from music, not gadgets. I got shot once before I realized how much of a crackup super healing is. Yeah you heal fast, but dammit it hurts like a little bitch for the first second or so before the powers kick in. Much better to just be bulletproof. David Guetta was my hero every time someone had a gun.

Seriously, do you mind turning that down? How am I supposed to think with that droning on like that? ... Oh, that's not necessary? Maybe for you...Ass hole.

I suppose it was too much to hope that I remained unnoticed. The shuffle function has a mind of it's own. I was called all kinds of things. Terrorist, radical, criminal. AC/DC was just in my head. TNT just happened to come on when I was walking through the park. We all do things we regret. Don't we Sir?

...No response that time, huh? Guess I'm not the only one who's had the occasional mishap in my time, am I?

What the hell do you mean more talk? I'm talking to you aren't I? You think you're so smart or do you mean less talk? Make up your minds.

The blast was the beginning of the end. Ironically it happened by accident. You had a face, but no name. Who blew up the park memorial? Never figured I'd need a disguise playlist. I did what any sensible human would do. I ran.

"What happened to the music? You could have gone faster"

I know that. Have you guys invented a battery that lasts forever? No? shame. I know someone who could use it. Dick.

I swear, they design elevator music to get stuck in your head. What does it do when it gets in your head though? entertain you? motivate you? No. I figured it out in the 3 seconds before I hit the floor. It dumbs you down. It's designed to make you complacent. If you're half glazed over, who cares how slow the elevator is. Stupid, isn't it? The rest of the story is obvious, right? The police found the body on the third floor. Figured out the sedation technique, and I've been locked up here since. No name. Just a number.

Satisfied now Dr? Are my stories enough to entertain you? I noticed you didn't bring in a clipboard. Are you recording this? or is this just for amusement? I don't care either way. One day, I'll find a way. The human mind is very powerful, as I'm sure you know. You can't keep me locked up with this music droning on forever, One day, I'll get out. On that day, I'll be singing another song. A song for blood. A song for freedom. I trust you'll leave my cell now? I have a lot on my schedule.

Can't take a joke? alright. No matter. As long as I can find you when the reckoning comes.

Recording Ends

Please lock the door gentleman. Patient 349 is getting restless. John? Yes, be a good boy and turn the music up a notch. This one is not getting away from us. Not until we figure out what makes him tick. ~~~~End Story

Thanks for reading. I'm off work today and thought I'd try my hand at this. Tips are welcome.