Jeffrey's desk made a buzzing noise and the security guard who had been following me around led me out. Eventually he led me back to my new "apartment." I spent about 10 minutes reading my handbook but it was extremely boring and almost incomprehensible. Huge swaths of it were just company indoctrination. Why working for BIMPT was great, why BIMPT was a leader in so many fields, why overtime was important, why dedication to the company was the same thing as dedication to your family. It was the same old shit I'd read fifty times before, but ‘suped up on turbo. These people really, really wanted you to like your job, love your job, think about your job, dream about your job. Did they want me to want to fuck my job? It felt like it sometimes? I daydreamed about what it might look like to copulate with your own gainful employment.

I did find out I was drawing a salary. Actually, the highest I had ever drawn. After they deducted money for insurance, hazard pay (it was a negative at BIMPT as you could cost the company money), paid off my debts for destroying company property, paid off debts to the families of the people I killed (the section on intracompany restitution for untimely deaths of work colleagues was particularly well-written for basically convincing you that you were responsible for paying for getting anyone killed), paid off my monthly housing allowance, paid for bills, food etc... (all deducted before I ever saw the check) I made exactly $0 per month. Forever. I owed quite a bit it turned out and really no one would ever be able to pay it off without hitting several Powerball jackpots. I sold my soul to the Company Store and I got was the shitty apartment and a lifetime of indentured servitude. My apartment wasn’t any prize either. I didn't have a coffee maker so I was pretty sure drugs were off the menu. I stared at the walls for about 15 minutes, but eventually I fell asleep.

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The alarm woke me. It took me several seconds to figure out what was happening as I hadn't set an alarm. It turned out work started at 7AM here at BIMPT KC, whether you liked it or not. A screen that I didn't know existed turned on in what I thought was a coffee table and laid out an agenda for me. It turns out my days were only 16 hours long, included three 30 minute breaks for eating and bathroom visits, and the lights to my room would turn off exactly 15 minutes after I arrived there in the evenings. Fun. I had essentially no choices, had access to almost nothing, and the only available food items were random mushes of nutrients ground into a bar-like shape. Super fun!

I looked around my room, desperately thinking of what I could use to kill myself. That's not a joke either. I was ready to die. I thought about bashing my head into the screen, but quickly realized it was not glass, or was glass embedded into a very hard plastic. While headbutting plastic to death sounded pretty metal, I didn't think I could actually pull it off.

I was shaken out of my suicidal daze by my door opening. My non-verbal security guard threw a bottle full of pills at me and said, "Take all those, we gotta do this once every eight hours.”

I threw the bottle back. "Pass."

The guard was non-plussed. “They said you'd say that. They said you're a smartass. Look man, I am going to level with you, I got three more years here and then I can leave and head back to Silver City, and I will dang near have enough money to retire. I am not risking that. They told me if you don't take the pills, I make you take the pills. Don't test me ok? Just take the pills."

"Come give it a try then." I felt tough. I had killed men. Bigger and stronger men than this guy at that.

Non-verbal Security Guard walked over and tazed me with something I hadn't even seen him pull. He seemed to get some sort of pleasure out of it as I was left with two bloody wounds in my neck. After a thorough tazing I was fairly helpless to resist as he shoved the pills into my mouth and then covered my nose with his hands and yelled "Swallow!" at me until I did so. He made me open my mouth and show him.

The guard said, "I can do that every day or you can take the pills. I don't care. My job is dependent on you taking the pills and not screwing up, so rest assured, you aren't going to screw up and you are going to take the pills." It did not seem like we were going to become the fast friends I had hoped us to eventually be.

My new security guard friend's badge said Dan. Dan was not super talkative. Seeing as how he and I would be interacting I tried to engage him. Dan a family name? (named after the dog in Where the Red Fern Grows). Got any kids? (daughter, not that you need to know that). Worked here long? (doesn't seem relevant to you not fucking up). Thought we weren't supposed to swear at each other? (then don't swear at me numbnuts). I only mention this in Dan's case because he was still nicer to me than most of the other employees. I guess word had gotten around about who I was pretty fast, and apparently BIMPT is a smaller company than I thought. When a random lady spit on me as I passed by, I realized that my reputation had definitely preceded me.

When we arrived at my "workstation" it was pretty obvious I wasn't exactly being trusted with splitting the atom. Dan turned me over to my supervisor with a hearty, "This is it" before walking off without a saying another word. My "workstation” consisted of a chair, a tablet with about 7 large and well-lit buttons such as "next sample" and "inject sample". Everything was laid out in big bright letters and large icons. There was an "undo action" key listed prominently at the bottom of the tab. I definitely felt as if I was viewed as a partially trained simian and given the command list to back that up.

My "superior" or whatever everyone else in the world calls a boss, walked over to me as I was staring at the tablet. "Hello, my name is Dr. Randall Surnow, we've been awaiting you for a while now. I am the Senior Director of Samskara Research here at BIMPT and I will be working with you directly on this project. As I believe you are aware, STAY BACK. GET BACK NOW!!” Randall was now brandishing his laptop like he planned to swing it at me.

I had been approaching the doctor to shake his hand, but apparently that was unwanted. “Did I do something wrong?” I showed him my hands, palms up, the international sign for “chill the fuck out dude.”

Randall seemed to have been briefly calmed by my gesture. “No, sorry, it’s just that your reputation precedes you. This was not a desirable posting given the fact that you killed the last person who tried to have to this conversation with you, but I am uniquely qualified within the company to lead this effort. Myself and my colleague Dr. Jae-Sung Park will be your scientific liaisons.” Another man who was staring into a microscope in the back of the lab casually waved his hand upon hearing his name. “We will review all of the data that comes from these experiments and continue to direct them. Before we begin that though, I need to know if you have been taking the new medication schedule?” Dr. Surnow seemed nervous about this question.

"Yea.” I said.

“Any side effects?” Dr. Surnow asked.

Dr. Surnow began writing as I spoke. “I have a thirst for human flesh, an unquenchable thirst for human blood as well. I was recently shot multiple times however none of the bullets affected me until one hit me in the head and then that was sufficient to stop me, but I eventually rose again. My skin is rotting and cold…” Dr. Surnow stopped writing.

“John, our trepidation about working with you is extremely real. Jokes are not needed in this environment.” Dr. Surnow said.

“I’m fine Doc. Chemically neutered. No more dangerous than the next guy.” I started poking at the tablet they gave me trying to figure it out. “How’s this thing work anyway?” I started pushing buttons. Old habits of the ADHD adult.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Please! Please don’t press anything until we explain it.” Dr. Surnow gently moved the tablet from my hands. “We have eliminated most of the potential issues in this system. You simply queue an accession number, retrieve the sample from the vault, load it into this machine” Dr. Surnow pointed towards the large cylinder shaped object in the middle of the room. “Then go sit in that chair.” Dr. Surnow now pointed towards the adjoining chair. “And then press inject, and the machine will inject the Samskara in you. Then we’ll monitor you for up to 14 hours and then you go back to your room, escorted by Dan. Then we repeat that more or less forever until we find what we are looking for or you die.”

I have to admit I hadn’t seen this part coming. I probably should have, but I didn’t.

“You’re injecting me?” That was the best I could muster.

“Yes, I thought this would’ve been explained to you. Frankly, while we have a good idea what many of the other Samskara structures do based on Dr. Cooper’s work in Rhesus monkeys, we still have a great deal to learn. Dr. Cooper’s fixation with the deleterious effects of Samskara exposure prevented our work from progressing. So now we can simply start testing them on you until we find what we need. Then we’ll likely dispose of you. But who knows? Maybe you make yourself useful and we just employ you here as needed. So, there is an upside.”

It’s hard to explain my exact feelings at this moment in time. I didn’t cry. I don’t know why. Long-term emotional torture is fairly numbing I guess. I didn’t want to be a lab rat, I didn’t want to die. I don’t know why, but I always just kept hoping if I survived, then there would be another day and that it could go better. Maybe some breakthrough or something and I could assume a new name and identity somewhere else. Try to live the rest of my life in peace. Being told you would be used like a petri dish and then discarded is disheartening to say the least.

“I don’t understand?” I mean, I didn’t understand, but I guess that was hardly my most serious problem.

“Sure, allow me to explain a bit better. You are a biological anomaly that appears to have spontaneously mutated a specific protein that allows you to be successfully injected with Samskara. The Samskaras. Samskara? Samskaras? We are still working on that. Anyway, the Samskara are a chemically diverse set of neurochemical reprogramming agents that alter your brain neurochemistry. In your case, it made you a homicidal lunatic. Hasn’t this been explained to you? I feel like you should know this by now. Anyway, we are now going to inject you with other Samskara structures to see what else we can produce. Think of yourself as a Mr. Potatohead. We previously put a funny nose on you, and some zany ears. Now we are going to stick something else on you too. We don’t know what will happen. Eventually, my colleague is quite sure you’ll die.” Dr. Park gave another thumbs up from his microscope. “But for now, you will serve to define the Samskara structural code, should one exist.” Dr. Surnow was proud of his exchange and seemed eager to start our work.

“That’s not exactly what I meant. I meant something more along the lines of ‘you psychotic bunch of fucks, why are you doing this to me, I just wanted to make some money to buy drugs.’ Can you answer that for me?”

“No, not today. Please don’t swear. First, let’s just see how my whole thing goes. Jae-Sung is fairly convinced the first event was an anomaly so honestly, it’s only 50/50 you make it through the day.” Dr. Park again gave a thumbs up from his microscope before emerging.

Dr. Park said “We are ready, jump in the chair. The first sample is loaded. After today, you go get samples. Today we get the sample for you. Let us begin.”

“And what if I say no. What if I fight you?” I asked.

“Ah. Precisely what we are trying to combat. If you try and fight us, then we call Dan back in and he straps you to the chair. Then Dan does your job, which makes him incredibly angry as it risks his life. On the way back to your cell er…. apartment, Dan takes a path that doesn’t have security cameras. On that path, if I had to guess, Dan forcibly sodomizes you with his baton. While this is against company policy, Dan is an exemplary employee we wouldn’t want to lose. Let me be clear Mr. Brunsen, we are quite through with toying around. At this point, you will be participating whether you like it or not. Compliance can be willing wherein you will be treated as you treat our company. Compliance can be coerced wherein you will find we can be persuasive. Or we can do things the hard way, wherein compliance is forced. Forced compliance would be…unfortunate for all. Particularly for your anus and Dan’s baton. Rest assured though; you will complete your tasks.” A look passed over his eye. He was a coward, I could tell. Constantly afraid, but here in this moment, where he had the power, more than willing to abuse it.

I set in the chair.

Nowhere to go but up from here at least!

They installed what they called an injection port into my arm. It’s the same thing cancer patients get. Dr. Surnow told me it was so they didn’t have to stick me with needles every day. It itched like shit and I hated it. Cancer patients keep them for a few weeks at a time. Mine was for life.

They told me the tablet could handle everything I needed to do. They would observe from a secondary room. Every day was the same. They had identified several hundred Samskaras. We were going to work our way through them one by one.

My days started the same. I would get around, walk to the laboratory, and begin my process. It started by firing up my tablet. I’d find the accession number, setup the injector system and fire some liquid death in my bloodstream. After that, it was basically just 14 hours of mulling around combined with reading the BIMPT pamphlets on their bullshit propaganda. I repeated this over and over. The food was crappy, the room was boring, the lab was boring. It got monotonous pretty quick. Enter the room. Hit the next accession number. Go grab the sample from the rack. Insert it into the injector. Sit in the chair. Pull the straps down tight. It took a few days to learn that. Sometimes it hits hard. There isn’t any way to know how much you are injecting because the Samskaras have different potency. That was our first discovery. That part was actually kind of fun, participating in the discoveries. I took a big hit the first week and I guess it went pretty badly. I ripped the straps off the chair and sent Samskara all over everything. It took forever to clean up. Long cleanup, big delays, big problems. After the hit I can do whatever I want though. My free time. Me time. Days starting to blur together now though. Just me now. Just me. Sometimes Dan. Getting lonely almost. Too bad there is nothing to do. Eventually you just say fuck it. Pull your dick out, masturbate. Sure, they can see, but honestly what else is there to do. Your dick hurts by the third week. Can’t cum because the scar tissue is ripped open. Get out of the chair. Walk around. You should kill Dan. No books. No tv. No drugs. Nothing. Not even a puzzle. Walk around. Entertain yourself. Same empty space. Try some pushups. Who am I? Punch the wall. Jumping jacks now. Fuck this. Run into the door. Headbutt the wall. Calm yourself. The intercom comes on. How do you feel they ask? What do you feel they ask? Does it hurt they ask? How do you feel they ask? What do you feel they ask? Can you hear us they ask? Getting stronger though. Pushups. Sit ups. Jumping Jacks. Boredom. Fuck I just want to put my head through this fucking wall. I hit it. I hit it again. I can’t count how many times I’ve hit it now. Gonna kill Dan. The blood just keeps flowing. How do you feel they ask? What do you feel they ask? They put in a metal plate to stop you from hitting the good spot. The spot you like. The spot that feels good. They think the plate will stop you. Wake up on the ground. You knocked yourself out again. The plate’s gone now. Fuck. Sleep. Fuck I just want to kill something. How do you feel they ask? What do you feel they ask? Weeks go by. Months? Months go by. Time is melting away. Months for sure by now. You only see Dan. Dan and the injector. Dan and the bottles. You pick a fight with Dan. Gonna kill Dan. Kill Surnow. Kill Park. Kill Surnow. Kill Dan. Dan breaks your wrist. You hear others. Fight Dan again. Kill Surnow. Kill Dan. The bottles start to run empty. When will this stop? Melting. You only see Dan. Dan doesn’t talk. You don’t talk. Has it been a year? It hasn’t. Kill Park. Use the pen. He’s got a pen. Put it in his eye. Put it through his eye. Can’t. Maybe a New Year for some. Christmas was sometime. Gonna kill Dan. You didn’t get a present. The bottles are almost gone. What happens when the bottles are all gone? Will you be done? Melted. Sometimes you talk. Not to Dan. You want to kill Dan. Kill Park. Kill Surnow. Are you breaking? Is your mind gone? Is this what they want? Where am I? Who am I?

Bye John.

Who’s John?

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“Hi again,” I said.

“Hi again,” it said.

“Is it going right now?” I asked.

“Almost. Something went wrong,” it said.

“I know, I make a lot of mistakes,” I said.

“Why’d you stop?” it said.

“I don’t want to anymore,” I admitted.

“I can help with that,” it said.

“How can you help?” I asked

“I need more,” it said.

“More what?” I asked

“Keep going. I can help,” it said.