Brain Lock Novels & Stories

She would just have to accept the fact that he would find out her secret. As soon as she removed the block from her mind she felt Harry's presence immediately. *Babe, what's wrong? Where are you?* *H-Harry-* Brooke's thoughts were cut off and she gasped when there was a sharp prick in her neck. She looked up at Ben with wide eyes as he removed the needle from her neck. She suddenly couldn't feel Harry. He was gone. "W-what-" "It's a nice little invention of mine," Ben smiled. "Blocks the mindlink of mates and pack members. Now get in the fucking car."

Ethan asked, his torso shifting as though he were preparing to honor my comfort at the expense of his pride. “Where could your massive frame safely migrate at this midnight watch?” I muttered softly, my resistance crumbling under the weight of my exhaustion. “The blockage is not entirely generated by your physical position on these mats. My intellect retains the continuous awareness that our houses possess a massive network of unresolved border conflicts, yet my processing unit cannot pinpoint the exact core of the deadlock.” “Collins, if your brain insists on running loops through historical disasters, your system will fail to log a single hour of rest tonight.” Ethan’s heavy palm extended

He did not panic, did not overwhelm me. He said, "It's okay hey it's okay don't force it " but how could I not how could I just sit here and accept that I did not even know who I was. My breathing became uneven my fingers gripping the sheets tightly I whispered, "I don't know my name how is that okay?" He said, "Because it happens head injuries can do that temporary memory loss it does not mean its gone forever."

The map on the wall is bleeding red. Every red dot represents a human being currently trapped in a state of involuntary, relentless arousal. A surgeon in Chicago. A bus driver in London. A kindergarten teacher in Berlin. "We can't turn it off," Alex says, his voice tight with frustration. "The blockchain lock is holding. We have to wait for the encryption cycle to reset. Two hours." "They don't have two hours," I say, looking at the flood of panic messages scrolling on the sidebar. "People are going to get hurt. Or fired. Or arrested."

Month by month. At first, nothing stands out. Then something does. Berlin. The year we moved for the bridge retrofit project. Six months in, tight timeline, political pressure, nightly calls with stakeholders who treated “urgent” like a personality trait. That was the year Leah first complained about memory fog. We laughed about it then. She said she kept walking into rooms and forgetting why. I told her stress did that to everyone. She told me she felt like her thoughts were lagging behind her body. I told her to sleep more.

he said. "No just tell me, Is it bad news?" I asked nervously. "Actually it is good news, Dr peter my friend who works at the mental institution and I did some tests on Lewis. Lewis isn't mad or crazy at all, he has a memory problem due to whatever happened to him in the past, he doesn't want to remember or he is not ready to relive it again, if you force him he might go into a panic state or become traumatized, that also explains why he becomes violent, his brain is stressed and badly affected," he answered.

DAMIEN'S POV “Mr. Dickins, while memory loss isn’t my primary specialization, I have studied various aspects of the human mind,” Dr. Ellis began, choosing his words carefully. “Sometimes, in cases of extreme psychological trauma or distress, our brain’s defense mechanisms kick in. It’s a radical form of self-preservation. To avoid distressing memories, the mind simply… erases them. Or, more accurately, blocks access to them. It’s a way for the psyche to protect itself from overwhelming pain, from a reality it deems too unbearable to confront.”

“I can't do it!” “Miss Lis, look at me.” Greg crouched in front of me. “You won't get it right on the first try, but don't give up so easily. It's not the handcuff that's holding you back; it's your mind. Without the cuff, you managed to twist your wrist, even with your hands behind your back. It's not the physical restraint; it's your mental block.” I sighed, lowering my head. Greg was right. Any restraint brought me back to the past, to the terrible memories of torture inflicted by that damn sadistic monster who relished every torment to make it stop.

I just need answers, that’s all. I walk over to the bed, sit down, and take a deep breath, trying to focus. I close my eyes and try to push into the mind-link. But nothing. It’s like I slam into an invisible wall. I frown, shift around on the bed to get more comfortable, and try again. Still nothing. The same frustrating block. What the hell is going on?

Metal cuffs locked both my wrists, reducing my range of movement to a pathetic few inches. The hell? Where the fuck was I? Why was I bound, and why did my body feel like it had gone ten rounds with a wrecking ball? I racked my brain, trying to piece together the fragmented shards of memory before the blackout, but I came up blank. The mental exertion only spiked the agony in my head. What the hell is going on?