Human Trials: Unethical Experimentation (Part 1 of 2)

Before Mr.Goldwasser's returns to the states from his retreat, he needs to find a test subject by any means.

Bavaria, Germany. May 2010: 

    I woke up in my hotel room to a knock on the door. I opened the door to nothing but a letter asking for me to meet in the lobby in regards to my family. What I noticed however is the letter wasn’t signed with neither of the Goldwasser’s signatures. Just a signature with the initials "E.L.".

    I got dressed and went down to the lobby in my displeasure. I absolutely do not and will not want to see the Goldwasser’s. I had to focus on my research…or at least on making sure the same monstrosity never happens again. As I walked down the stairs from the tenth floor to the first; I started to question if this is a possible attempt on my life. If so, I don’t care to live anymore. If it’s not, which my gut is telling me it’s not; then I have the feeling I have to shovel through the usual Goldwasser bullshit. They found me because the owner must have called them about my overextended stay. The Goldwasser’s has invested a lot of money in their business.

    When I got to the lobby I was approached by a five-foot nine, Caucasian male in a sky blue three piece suit; with a white dress shirt with no tie, has light brown hair and black shoes. I looked him straight in the eyes as he stopped two feet in front of me. He was rather upbeat and approached me with a smile.

    "Illya Grigori Chekov; September 7th, 1984? Blood type AB-Positive?"

    "I’d appreciate it if you never address me by my government information again. Are you E.L?" I asked him with my arms crossed.

He then smiled "Call me Ethan. I’ve been a friend of your parent’s family since my birth. My family has been close with yours for decades.-"said Ethan.

I then cut him off "How come I’m just meeting you now?"

     Ethan looked around to check if anyone was listening. He then asked me if I speak or at least understand Italian.

     "I understand it." I told him. He began talking to me in Italian and started explaining how his family has been protecting the Goldwasser’s fortune since the 1930's and pretty much "protects their interest". What’s weird is he said the first half in Italian and the second in Russian. He was testing how I would react since my real father was Russian. I replied to him in Hebrew saying "I rather talk about this in a more modified scenario."

     In Italian "Define modified?" questioned Ethan.

     "How about a forest? If you are who you claim you are it would be wiser this way." I said calmly in Hebrew. He then paused and laughed

"Smart man." in English.

     "So you’re a friend of my uncle Alex?"

     "Yes, well Alex was one of our lawyers."

     Being the one to choke slam the elephant in the room, "So you’re mafia?"

     "Yeah. But not the type you think. We're the protection type. My family has been protecting the Goldwasser’s since they immigrated in the mid 1930’s trying to escape Hitler’s reign. They moved to New York and my grandfather met with your great grandfather to help each other out. Since they’re German Jewish immigrants; my family had to step in to make sure they have the best security, both business and personal wise since as you know- tensions were at an all-time high with us. They scratch our backs we scratch theirs!"

    "Wait a minute- where does your family originate from?"

      "Well to tell you the truth kid, we’re Germans. But when my family emigrated from Berlin in 1918, we had to change our identity as Italians and our surname to match the correct origin. Also again all due to war time tensions."

    German mafia acting as Italians covertly… I wondered who else knew of this. But I don’t want to ask too much knowing the nature of his profession. I rather not offend him.

    "So what are you, a capo? excuse me for asking. This is none of my business."

    "Nonsense! Just know I’m four out of five stars. We are forever indebted to your family, which means we are indebted to you Jorge. They helped us get to where we are today!"

     "Which is?"

    "Wealthy and under the radar." Ethan then pulled out a pack of menthol cigarettes. He placed one in his mouth and lit it. He offered me one but I politely turned him down. He then exhaled "Look I-I heard what happened, and I’d like to give my condolences-"

      I then cut him off stating "I appreciate your respect but no matter how many condolences I get I’ll never connect with the love of my life ever again." I said, with goose bumps hiving from the back of my neck. A rather weird feeling as if there was an extra presence watching us.

     Ethan looked to the floor and proceeded with, "Jorge I understand your grief, it’s natural." Then he looked at me and continued. "All these emotions your feeling all at once. It’s hard when someone close to you passes away. But you have to realize the soul is nothing but energy in which never dies and moves on towards its next stage of existence. And I’m not talking about religion or-".

     All this metaphysical s**t was getting me anxious. "I understand what you’re saying."

     "But you can’t just let her death hold you down from living the rest of your life. You got a whole life ahead of you! You can’t dwell on something you had no control over. It will eat you up inside and turn you into something you’re not. And trust me; me and my brother been down that road way too many times and I’d hate to see someone as smart as you go down that path. You have so much potential. I mean your parents are worried! Call it what you want, but they didn’t have to adopt you and send you to a good school-".

      At that point I had to put him in his place. "I've been to only pseudo "A" graded public schools in which the faculty only cared about test scores, cutting salaries, motherfucking football and not teaching us how to use plausible life skills. All I learned in that school s**t-steam was how to take orders and how to obey. I learned the fundamentals of how cruel and s****y humanity truly can be from the hypocritical social conditioning from chemically imbalanced and morally flawed authority figures. On top of that polluted ice berg- I barely saw them growing up until after I got my master’s degree. When I have a piece of f*****g paper deeming ME certified to be important. The higher my degree, the more these two-faced f***s wanted me around just to get into my personal life. Just to spread immature gossip with their materialistic, mid-life crisis friends. Yet when I really needed them- they were always dining on their yachts, with other fat cat bankers and celebrities; while their employees scheme and bamboozle poor people. I don’t know s**t about my birth parents besides knowing my father was a journalist from Russia and my mother's a nuclear chemist from Israel. Babysitters raised me until I was fourteen years of age and I had to end up raising that spoiled little b***h they call a son. I’m telling you right now, if I have to insert my SIM card and turn my phone back on just to call them-ugh; look. I’m not in the mood for their rudimentary bullshit. They're most certainly going to blame me for everything and then get into an argument about putting me on opiates and anti-depressant medication."

     What's weird about Ethan is, his body language, and speech pitches at the time seemed to be showing a lot of concern for my situation.

     "What? They’re worried sick! They think you were either kidnapped, died, or joined a cult."

     I was immediately revolted yet not surprised by what Ethan said my so-called “parents” thought. It’s some bullshit they would've thought. I grinded my teeth and responded sarcastically "Wow, what high expectations they have of me."

     "Jorge they just want you to come home-hell at least call them and tell them you’re okay."

     "Tell them I’m busy! That sentence will ring a bell. They better get used to me saying that for now on since that’s all I had growing up. I had to learn everything by myself through wisdom and observation." I said capriciously.

     "Remember when you guys first moved to Miami and all your father’s rivals stocks went up by twenty percent due to stealing their investors? “

     "Yeah?"

     Ethan explained how sophisticated and dangerous his network truly is. "Your family’s stock shortly skyrocketed passed their rivals by quadrupling pass their twenty percent increase to what they made within forty-eight hours. Within the next week your father’s rivals filed for bankruptcy and by the following Monday, the CEO’s and CFO’S either began working at the DMV, a post office, sucking dick or selling crack-cocaine down on Sistrunk boulevard. You’re welcome! Google me, and my family- hell ask your family themselves. We have a long history together and you’ll be absolutely astonished by not only my craft but my family’s as well. We’re diplomats and professionals with a code of honor, respect, and integrity whether it’s business or personal. We don’t bullshit my friend and if s**t ever were to go south; trust me, nobody is perfect. HOWEVER- it’ll usually be due to hidden agendas or the inflated ego of the other party. Now, I’m not asking you to trust me, but at least give your parents a call."

     F**k it, I had to ask-"Question. Why is a made-man like you talking to pathetic ol’ me for? My parents obviously sent you here to make sure I follow their wishes by any means-am I correct?"

     "Look kid-" said Ethan before I cut him off. When I did- I was losing my patience with this "kid" bullshit.

    "In case you may have changed my diapers as an infant and your hands still reek get this through your skull- I’m a grown a*s man. What you’re going to do is you’re going to call my parents as a confirmation of you actually knowing each other. Put them on speaker and I’ll confirm my safety to them. After that I’m going to hang up that phone and you’re going to help me find a test subject; and not just any test subject- a HUMAN test subject. THEN- AND ONLY THEN, I’ll fly back to that piece of s**t town populated by hypocritical imbeciles and drug addicted narcissist. Deal?"

     He looked rather surprised by my response. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to punch me in the face or laugh. But Ethan later responded          "And if I refuse?"

    "Feel free to put two bullets in the back of my head. I don’t care. I’ll tell you this- you, nor your family f****n' threaten me."

     "Wow Jorge, amazing how you grew up so fast." He then ashed out his cigarette on the heel of his shoe and deposited the cigarette remains in his cigarette holder.

     "Whatever, I’ll find you a bum or something. No big deal."

     "No. No bums. I need scum. I-I need a menace to society. A complete f*****g sicko with no children and nothing to lose. Not a drug dealer. Not a thief. A psychopath." I said coldly.

    Ethan smiled "I’ll see what I can do."

    "Proceed with your call."

    Ethan ended up making the call and it turned out everything he told me was the truth. Later, I even made my private investigator friend I knew since high school look Ethan up. Surprisingly these are some honorary business men, however; extremely dangerous and very sophisticated individuals. They even have close ties with the Yakuza, a few Italian connections, the Leon cartel, the British, the Vasquez cartel, a few Mexican cartels and pretty much any organized crime division west of what would have been the iron curtain; as well as an abundance of Wall Street connections, and even rumored to have their own private military overseas with the help of one of the most powerful arms dealers alive today. A French Moor by the name of Marcus Miguel LaPointe. Marcus helps Ethan's family with supplying them with military grade weaponry and the highest quality body armor to the States. Ethan's shipping corporation helps Marcus with shipping weapons for his black market operations internationally, undetected.            Speaking of which, this shipping company is what made Ethan's family “legitimate business men” to the public. However, it's really just one massive money laundering operation used for ease of access for black market transactions. Ethan told me the company has been around since the 1950's and has done business with the most powerful, down to the most wanted. Now Ethan's the current CEO of their LTD division.

     Later, I explained to him how I wanted everything to be setup. I’m going to give the patient a 150 milligram dosage. Ethan is going to hire a prostitute to flirt with him in the bar and slip a two hour dose of melatonin. She will then persuade him to order another drink. When he's not looking, she will then open the capsule into his drink by setting a diversion. After, Ethan will pay her $2,000 for the operation and then pick him up to later drive his unconscious body to a warehouse thirty minutes away. Within that warehouse there will be a total of five rooms in which music with different audio frequencies will be played from speakers built within the walls and ceilings; as well as different visual influences (flashing colors, projections, strobe lights, etc). From the looks of how I found Vivian that night, I must have found her towards the end of the trip. Meaning she was mobile for what I’m going to assume a few hours due to how trashed the house was and the fact that all the televisions and computers in the house was on showing different programming. I have a feeling I’m going to have a change in direction in terms of my career path for as long as I breathe.

Objective:

    The first room he'll wake up in will be a bedroom with incense and white candles burning- Feng Shui type s**t. I’ll play music with alpha waves in the blue room. There’s cameras all over each room. In the second room (with beta waves), I’ll kick it up a notch with him in a room with orange walls and a projection of people in a night club on each wall. I’d figure the drug has harsh side effects and I needed to know what they are in explicit detail. From that point on, I’ll begin to play a series of both high and low frequencies. By the fourth room he’ll experience a series of strobe lights with cigarette smoke and the fifth room with be black and gray with absolutely no sound and boarded windows. I had to test the effects in each environment as well as the half-life of the 150 milligram dosage. Ethan was rather impressed by my plan and hired a few people to help out with the controlled experiment.

    At around 2:00A.M., we got our incapacitated patient and drove him to a warehouse built in the middle of a forest in the outskirts of Bavaria. Me and Ethan were viewing the experiment from a surveillance room upstairs. It turned out Ethan got me a true piece of s**t-an embarrassment to humanity. Our test subject happened to be a serial rapist known for recording his acts on random women and uploading it onto the deep web. At the end of every video he would brand the word "s**t" and an upside down cross on their foreheads with a hot butter knife and proceed to read all the details of their ID on camera. What’s even more fucked up is he happened to be a part of a local black-doom metal band called "Werewolf Blowjob", the band's lead singer. I tried my best to not go in there and bash his f*****g teeth in with a ball-peen hammer…but I had to show patience and not get all into my emotions.

    This is just business after all.

Reviews

[JayG]

• I woke up in my hotel room to a knock on the door. I opened the door to nothing but a letter asking for me to meet in the lobby in regards to my family. What I noticed however is the letter wasn’t signed with neither of the Goldwasser’s signatures. Just a signature with the initials "E.L.".

I don’t doubt that this is an accurate record of what happened. But it’s told as an overview, as if the reader knows why he or she is in the hotel, who they are, or what the character thinks is going on.

And who are the Goldwasser’s to the character? Can’t guess. You know. The character knows. The Goldwassers know. But who is the story written for? Shouldn’t they know, too?

It’s presented as a report, and is just as entertaining as one. Story happens as we watch, in real-time, so to entertain. Plot is talked about and only informs.

• I got dressed and went down to the lobby in my displeasure.

Another summation. What time is it? No way to tell. Why is the protagonist unhappy? No idea. You would think s/he would be curious about who the mysterious E.L. is. You’d think the character would wonder, and think over the possibilities, so as to be prepared. You would think the character might be wondering why the person was at the door but didn’t stay. Yes, you list his concerns later, but here, you say our hero went to the lobby, so he’s already there without having those thoughts. Then, after you jump back in time, and have him marching down the stairs for unknown reasons, when any hotel that tall would have an elevator.

Problem is, the character doesn’t think. And how can that seem real?

• I absolutely do not and will not want to see the Goldwasser’s.

Who?

Without knowing who they are to him or her, this line has no meaning for a reader, so this is where you lose me. Someone I know nothing about, in a hotel in an unknown location, is upset for reasons not stated. And is going to see someone who, for unknown reasons left a note and ran. You talk about unknown “research.” You say that if someone is going to try to kill him he wants to die. You have him speaking multiple languages for no known reason

As you read you have an advantage over the reader. You know what you mean. For you the words summon story, plot, images, and emotion that lives in your mind. But for the reader, the words summon story, plot, images, and emotion that lives in YOUR mind. But it doesn’t come, and you’re not there to explain.

I really wish I had better news. But from an editor’s viewpoint the story is out of control. Things happen without context or logic. If your goal is to write fiction I would strongly suggest reading a few books on the basics of writing fiction. The library’s fiction writing section is a great place to begin.

[Lord of mad men]

Wow that took a nicely dark Ishmael turn I love it.great job

[Coyote Poetry]

The story line is getting better. I like the thoughts and the situations in this chapter. I like how you built each scene with good description. I liked the open ending. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote