AN: Written when I should have been paying attention in lecture. This plot bunny has been bouncing around my head for a while, so while not paying my professor any mind, I typed it up. It's weird, and I don't really like it, but I figured I'd share. Reviews are encouraged, and thanks for reading!

Without a Trace

This is all I can do for the time being, and I truly regret not being a more active participant in this situation.

For starters, this document will be the only remaining thing left of my existence, after you read this, you will never hear of or from me again. I will disappear.

Again, I’m terribly sorry about this mess.

All my things will be destroyed. I will be presumed dead. You must believe I am dead. I will be dead.

The fire will have destroyed all evidence of my existence. No, I will not try to prevent the inevitable, nor will you for this will be read long after my departure.

Do not, I repeat, do not have a funeral, or a memorial, or anything of that sort. Just move on, it’s for the best. Do not place a false gravestone, there must be no evidence of my existence on this earth.

Treat this document as my last will and testament.

There are too many variables to truly keep you safe, but for my own peace of mind, do not try to solve this. Do not look for me, do not talk of me, do not even think of me.

I do not exist.

This is a good-bye and a fair-well that absolutely MUST be deleted once read. Please do not question this.

Above all, lay low, that will be best.

Thank you, and again, I am quite sorry.

--

I printed the short letter and deleted the file completely from my computer. I would keep the printed page with me at all times. Folding it up, I placed it in the hidden pocket of my wallet, praying I would always have the wallet.

She disappeared without a trace, and she expects me to simply forget? I couldn’t do that. I could never do that to anyone, especially not her. She was my everything, my everyone. And she was gone. “Presumed” dead.

I missed her.

--

“Mark?”

I turned at the sound of my name, and glanced around looking for the person who’d spoken it.

“Mark, it’s me, Jason, Jason Nichols,” a tall, lanky fellow with long black haired pulled back into a ponytail.

“Oh, right, Jason,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face, searching my mind for any trace that I’d met this man before.

“Keri’s party? We played darts, you beat me by a landslide?”

“”Yes, yes, I remember.” I had no clue who this man was. I was playing with her at Keri’s party, not this man.

“How’ve you been?”

“All right, I suppose.”

“Yeah? Same here,” he said, forcing an awkward laugh. He knew I didn’t know him.

“I should--”

“Yeah, ‘course, nice seeing you, buddy!” he said, cutting me off and turning to walk away.

I shrugged, and turned back, continuing on my way home.

--

The phone was ringing.

It was 4:47 in the morning, and the phone was ringing.

High pitched, more shrill than the afternoon rings, and it kept going.

I groaned, getting out of bed to answer it; the answering machine still hadn’t picked up.

“Hello?” I said, my voice sounding of the sleep that had been disrupted.

“Mark! It’s Jason.”

What the fuck?

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, s’not like I’ve never called you before at this time. Remember, when my dad had yelled at me, told me I was going nowhere and kicked me out of the house? 4 AM and you picked up the phone.”

“That wasn’t you,” I said. That had been her.

“Yeah, it was? Don’t you remember?”

“I’m going back to bed,” I said, before hanging up the phone on him.

Who was this Jason Nichols?

--

“Terra, could you run a search on someone for me?”

“Do it yourself, mate.”

“I’ve got work to do!”

“I do too!” she whined.

I gave her a pointed look. Terra was mostly kept around for our employer’s amusement.

“Fine, fine, what’s the name?”

“Nichols, Jason. He’s about 6’2, thin, kind of awkward, long black hair? Probably in his late twenties or so...”

“Righto, I’ll email you the results.”

--

“Oi, Mark?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s no Jason Nichols that matches that description in the database. There was a Jason Nichols age 15, 5’6, blond, lives in England. And there was a J. Nichols, age 62, completely stark raving mad, living in a nursing home in Grimsby, Ontario.”

“Where’s that?”

“Do you know St. Catherine's?”

I shook my head.

“Hamilton?”

“Yeah, it’s near there?”

“Sort of. It’s small, population 20, 000 or something.”

“Right.”

“So, who is this guy you’re looking for?”

“No clue, someone who doesn’t exist, I guess.”

--

The phone was ringing again. 5:32 in the morning, this time. Still too early.

“Yes?”

“It’s Jason.”

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, the sound of his name immediately drawing me out of my state of semi-consciousness.

“Jason Nichols, we’ve met so many times, man. Do you want to hang out?”

“No, I want to know who you are. You’re not in the database.”

“She isn’t either.”

“Is that why you’re here? Make me forget her? Replace her with you in my memories?”

“No, Mark, she never existed, it was only me.”

I hung up the phone.

--

I scanned through the phone registry. Her entry was gone, that was no surprise, but I found Nichols. There were three listing now, as opposed to the two Terra had looked into yesterday. The third was the one I apparently knew. I used a security override and delved into his files. They were all new, updated last night, 5:46.

Name: Nichols, Jason Edward

Age: 28

Eyes: brown, 20/20

Hair: black

Height: 190.7 cm

Weight: 70 kg

Rank: Civilian

That last one was a flat out lie, so was the name as far as I could tell. It was rare to find a lie with the clearance level I was signed into.

The phone rang.

“Yes?”

“Get off of that page.”

“Jen? No, wait, I though you were-”

“Mark, now get off of that page,” a male voice said, cutting me off.

“Wait, Jason? No, fuck that, what’s your real name?”

“Get off of that page now.”

“No.”

“Goodbye then.”

The screen suddenly went blank, a bizarre colour, that I could only imagine was a mix of a dark green with a fluorescent yellow, filled the screen. A near silent, high pitched screech filled the room.

Then it all went black.