My gaze darts from his face to his finger poised on the switch. The loss of control over my situation is almost as painful as the dread encasing me as I wait for him to flip that button.
I swallow to moisten my dry throat. “You’re accusing me of being an unfeeling creature,” I say, tone low, solemn. “And yes, that’s true. I don’t feel in the same capacity the way you do. But I’m not the one with a torture device in his hands, Alex. I’ve never purposely hurt anyone. You’re making a conscious choice to harm me.”
Alex doesn’t wince. No show of emotion that my speech affects him. His determination to his project overpowers any rational thought.
“You claim I’m sick…but this, what you’re willing to do, that makes you the sick one, Alex.”
He inhales deeply and rolls his shoulders back, chin lifted high in defiance and resolution. With quick, unflinching movements, he shoves a plastic mouth guard into my mouth and straps the paddles to my temples.
“You will thank me one day
, Blakely.”
Then he flips the switch.
16
Defunct
Alex
Journal entry:
Subject 6 has become lethargic over the course of the first week.
I admit, I was impulsive and rash with the first round of electroconvulsive therapy. I hadn’t yet finished the subject’s emotional map. I hadn’t yet formed a complete hypothesis for her treatment. I allowed the subject to affect me, and years of disappointment coupled with her inability to feel that severe disappointment with my failure…
I halt writing, pen hovering over the journal page, as I stare at the streaming river. Dense pine trees block any wind, the basin a void of sound and life. The forest is muted by my thoughts as I search for the right word. There is no way to varnish or excuse my behavior. Blakely wounded me, and I wanted to wound her back. I wanted her to feel so desperately, it became a demand that had to be answered.
For a brief moment, I cracked, revealing the delicate fractures that have splintered me during the course of this experiment. I was irresponsible, childish. I won’t allow that to happen again with this subject. From the first moment I saw her, I knew she’d be a challenge, but she’s perfect in that challenge—a test I must succeed at. I simply have to reevaluate my reactions to her. Fortify my defenses. Be stronger.
I whisper a curse into the crisp air, my breath fogging the evening. Blakely, Blakely…
She’s the spark to my fuse.
A fire lit down deep in the bowels of my torment and self-degradation.
Her soulless, penetrating eyes strip me of every pretentious façade; she sees down to my stained marrow. And there’s a part of me that yearns for it, to be cleansed by her fire.
I force the torturous thought from my head and try again to form a cohesive thought.
The subject’s response to the initial treatment exceeded expectations:
No anesthesia was administered before 200 volts was delivered for approximately 40 seconds. Admittedly, again, requiring the subject to undergo the treatment without anesthesia was a callous oversight on my part, and most likely the result of the subject’s side effects which include:
Immediate confusion. Temporary memory loss of the event. Migraine-induced nausea.
Four days after the treatment, subject has resumed normal brain function and no longer suffers headaches or sickness, but remains lethargic.
During the 40 seconds of treatment, the subject’s seizure lit up all areas of the brain, denoting this subject is highly subjectable to the procedure. It gives me hope that, in time, the dormant pathways of the subject’s amygdala will function as a non-psychopathic brain.
Hope… Such a nonscientific word. But, nothing is ruined yet. Blakely is resilient. Now I must start again. Analyze the data and draw conclusions. Accept or reject my hypothesis. Modify the hypothesis if needed. Reproduce the experiment until there are no discrepancies between observations and theory.
Reproducibility.
That is the crux of the scientific method.
I find my feet wandering back toward the cabin, my steps quickening to match the eager beat of my heart. There’s so much that needs to be done… But first, I need to revive my subject.