Experiment 10

I was just seeing where this one would take me, and Iv wound up somewhere quite sinister. Again.

Experiment 10

 

I think my mind must be fading altogether now, Its starting to become harder to piece together how I actually got here.

I was working for Marie Curie when they found me, trying to cure cancer.

I was content.

I was at peace.

And yet, it’s strange, but… I always felt like something was missing.

It was the most peculiar longing for something I never knew that I was missing; I wasn’t missing and wishing for it, so much as craving.

I walked past a window. How strange it is, the thought that a mere window, a simple, plain, glass window, with six squares and a cracked white pane, can be of such impact on ones life.

The advertisement was there.

It was in a peculiar part of town, on the outskirts, in an area Id always thought of being quite dismal and not at all pleasant.

‘Bio engineers wanted, for work in a new experimentation facility in disease control and manipulation’.

Now, Id worked in Bio Genetics for a long time now, and I had never heard the term ‘Manipulation’ used to describe a job role.

However, to me, it only made the job sound more exotic, more tantalising.

I rang the number on the stained advert.

Another oddity and I have only realised this when recounting to you, and it may be of no importance at all really, but the number wasn’t the usual business number, you know, 0800 and such.

I wish I could remember that number.

A man answered.

He had a tinny, wheezing voice which rasped into the receiver, which was off putting and in a sense, not quite normal.

I frowned at my own judgement, the poor man may be suffering from a genetic failure himself, and it is not polite or in good character to judge a man by his ailments, I reminded myself.

Despite his interesting voice, the man was polite and seemed impressed, if slightly dubious, about my claims of previous work.

He asked to meet me at six the following evening to see the facility, claiming that strange office hours were part of the job, and that I would be welcome to a coffee in his office.

I agreed, and the conversation ended with the usual politeness methods.

The following evening, at six, I stood outside what would be my future workplace.

It definitely did not look exotic.

I had seen more exotic looking prisons.

The walls were cracked, and there appeared to be no window at all left in the pane.

The leaky drain trickled water down the green, moss covered wall, which snaked down the hacked door.

There were no cars or sign of anyone or anything that may even possibly be living.

I assumed I had got the wrong address, and laughed slightly at my own stupidity, assuming that this run down, unkempt building of apathy was my new work place.

I had turned and was leaving, when I heard that tinny, wheezing voice call after me.

I turned again, and walked towards him.

The look on my face must have told him of my bewilderment, as he quickly and believably, but somewhat oddly uttered ‘We are awaiting new windows and building restoration. Yes, its seen better days, hasn’t it?’

I smiled and agreed, and followed the Dr down the hollow hallways.

The strangest of noises seemed to be coming from what I was informed were treatment rooms, and the instruments for medical procedures which I observed on my way to the damp little office, were certainly not like any I had used before.

Dr Marw, he informed me that his name was, reassured me and explained that not many other facilities have access to this type of tools for medical procedure, that the diseases were incredibly rare and that I was very unlikely to have ever used this equipment before.

Now I know why.

Of course, I would be trained to use them properly, he informed me, and for my first few weeks I would be under observation.

I understood.

After my first few shifts, in which I performed some ghastly operations on seemingly unwilling patients, though I was informed that they felt very limited pain and were very much inclined to make a fuss as they were ultimately completely insane, another very odd fact came to my mind.

My colleagues and supposed bosses all had a very similar expression and a similar type of far away gaze.

They had sunken eyes, surrounded by what appeared to be bruised, tender skin, though the never complained.

Their skin was the whitest I had ever seen, It was like not one of them had ever considered that some sunlight would do them much good.

Realising this, I realised another sinking fact.

I had never seen anyone but I leave after shift, apart from, very rarely, Dr Marw.

I pushed this thought to the back of my mind, but at night, in my sleep, it reappeared.

Dr Marw was performing hideous operations on me, removing everything from the Gaul bladder, to the still beating heart.

My eyes were detached, and made to move with wires, my fingers became controlled by buttons that Dr Marw had installed in my back.

When I awoke, I scolded myself for my ridiculous thoughts.

Dr Marw was definitely not going to install buttons in my back, and I was very silly for thinking so.

But the strangest thing was, no matter how often I told myself what a ridiculous dream it was, I could never quite console myself fully.

I still let the hideous dream go to the back of my mind, and continued with my volatile work practices of attempting brain surgery, on the 16^th live brain, alas, again, I have failed.

I noticed my memory had deteriorated, remembering things about life before working at the facility became very difficult.

I started working long into the night, and sleeping through day to reimburse my sleeping patterns, I was becoming slowly nocturnal.

I noticed that my eyes had become puffy due to sleep loss, but I put that down to long hours, the stress of my job, and not enough sleep.

I thought about the famed ‘Experiment 10’ that the facility housed, it was regular talk among the staff, in fact, and sometimes it seemed to be the only thing which excited them remotely.

When we were told that we would have to be quarantined in the facility, I appeared to be the only person remotely alarmed, which, ironically, alarmed me far more.

I was the only one to question why, was it contagious? Were we to live?

I was reassured that we would be fine, and that the measure was temporary.

Then, we were lead into a chamber alone.

I was, for the first time in my adult life, frightened, and alone.

I sang softly to myself as the gas surrounded me, that hideous whirr spinning round my head, screeching and yowling until I thought I should also be screaming, and then the black.

The black comes, and it does, it’s a relief.

The black comes soon after.

Then comes the blank.

And in that, who knows what monster you have become.

I now know that I am never to leave the facility.

We are gassed on a nightly basis now, to keep us ‘Calm’ I am informed.

The gas makes you apathetic, easy to manoeuvre, no pesky emotions or free will to make life difficult for those in charge of us.

It is now, that I realise, my strange, hazy workmates are probably very similar to me, that we are all people who have fallen for the trap which Dr Mawr has set for us, that we are his for manipulation.

Manipulation.

‘Disease control and manipulation’

In this horror, I realise that the I am the famed experiment 10.

Manipulation of the human mind.

I know that I, along with Mawr, am the only person to realise this in the building, that is, if you can call me human anymore.

You see I have no face.

I have no face.

I have no face.

I have no face.

My wiring is delicate, I often falter and repeat.

I have eyes, a skull and a brain, linked to what I can only describe as a defibrillator, which doubles as my body.

I am harmless, and my free will remains intact because of my inanimate state.

I am kept from the gas.

Mawr calls me precious, tells me how precious I am, I am the soul reason for his existence.

That alone, makes me shiver and feel ill.

I never sleep, I never need to eat, the machine does it all for me.

I do not remember the process in which Mawr turned me into this machine, but how I wish I did.

Although I know I do not  need that gruesome, hideous knowledge to add to the torment.

To this story, there is no ending, as I cannot die.

So I end this now.

So I end this now.

So I end this now.