The Project
I wake in a room. How did I get here? Why am I here? Who… who am I? I look around. All I can see is darkness. What time is it? I try to sit up and find myself strapped to a bed. The metal restraints are cold and hurt my wrists. They’re too tight. I lift my head to try to see more, but it’s too dark and I’m too tired and weak. I’m hungry too. I can’t smell anything but dirt. Honestly, I’m hungry enough to eat dirt. How long have I been here? Slowly, it all comes back to me. My name, my real name… Jacey. Jacey Kirkson. I… I was a project. I was selected from a lottery for a science project. I always loved science. I had no idea I would be the project. I was just told I’d been selected to go to a real laboratory in Virginia to assist some professional scientists with a groundbreaking experiment. I’d had no idea what it would mean. I remember the conversation with my mom when I came home from high school one day, proudly carrying the letter; “Mom, look!” I said. I was so excited. “I got a letter from the president of the GET-GO!” The GET-GO was this big science group. It stood for Graduates Experimenting Towards Great Opportunities. I had always wanted to go. My mom had been so happy. If she saw me now…
High school was awful. Until I got the letter. The GET-GO had invited me to join them for a big project. Of course I said yes, and my mom helped me prepare. I would be going to Virginia for the summer, and, if I was good enough, I would be hired to work there. My mom was so proud that her only daughter of five kids would be getting such a great job. She was so sure I would get the position. I finished high school with high grades, especially in science. Only a week after school let out, I was saying goodbye to my family. My four brothers were teasing, but I remember looking back to wave one last time and saw all of them crying. I got to the airport no problem, and even got to ride first class since I was going to work for the GET-GO, the nationwide science phenomenon. One lady shook my hand thinking I was already one of their employees. I wish she had never done that…
After working as an intern for about two weeks, I was told I could start doing harder work. They led me to a large room with lots of equipment. I thought I would be told not to touch anything, and I would just watch as they did stuff. But instead, one of the head scientists said, “I want you to look around, look at the equipment. What do you see?” I did as I was told, but nothing seemed recognizable. “I see… large machines. Some appear to have holding units for test subjects. One has a syringe. I’m not sure what else. I’ve never seen anything like this before,” I said, gesturing to one that had a table with metal restraints on it. I wish those restraints had been tungsten or steel, or something stronger…
“Exactly,” he said. “These are new machines, some that have never been tested before. That one there,” he said gesturing to a different one with restraints. “The restraints are designed for people with mental health issues, violent ones. It is to hold them while we inject a special formula to calm them, to take away the mental problem that makes them violent. The one with the syringe. That is for people in comas. A human cannot physically inject the formula that would wake them up at the correct speed, so we designed a machine to do it.” He went on, explaining how each machine would cure a disease, take away stress, or even correct mental disorders. “We can make people get better for real. It won’t make them perfect, but it will help the world.” Had he only known what would really happen…
“And now,” he finished. “You will be the first to witness this great work.” At first, I was afraid he would strap me in, but instead a sleeping person on a stretcher was brought in. They placed the stretcher in the metal bed of the machine for those in comas. The patient was in a coma. They set it up so the syringe was aligned with their arm. It was a kid, maybe 15, a boy. The machine scanned with a red light, then jabbed the syringe into the boy’s arm, and slowly, very slowly, pressed the thumbpiece to inject the medicine. The boy’s medical card read “J.C.” like my name, only not. After a few moments, I realized I was the only one in the room besides the boy. Then I noticed the machine had stopped and was pulling the syringe away, leaving a small red dot on the boy’s arm. His eyes flew open and he sat up. He looked around the room before seeing me and yelling, “Where’s my mom, my dad? My brother? Where am I? I was in the hospital a minute ago… Am I an experiment now?” He shouted the last question while eyeing the syringe near him and the thin red line now trailing down his arm. I stood silent for a moment then said, “No, don’t worry. You weren’t an experiment. That was a serum that would wake you up. You were in a coma. You’re fine now, of course.” He looked at me skeptically and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could a nurse exploded through the door towards him, shouting incoherently, clearly overjoyed. She led the boy out and told me to clean up, gesturing to the bed and machine. I wish she had called someone else to help me…
I hurried to get the bed, rolled it out of the way, then looked around to see if there were some kind of instructions for how to clean the machine. I eventually got distracted and began to explore the room a bit. I went over to the first machine with metal restraints. I saw a small label near the head of the bed reading, “For Jacey Kirkson. May your wishes come true.” Confused, I looked closer to see if I had misread. I didn’t notice the doctor behind me. “Find something, miss?” he asked. I jumped and turned around, accidentally smacking him in the face with my long, high ponytail. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” I apologized quickly, my face turning red. “It’s fine,” he said. “All is well. I see you found your welcome gift. A shame it couldn’t be given sooner, but it wasn’t ready in time.” I was so confused, but I knew I needed to improvise. First rule of improv: go with it. Say ‘yes’ to everything. “Yes, of course,” I said. “I didn’t know I would receive a gift when I came to work here.” “You weren’t supposed to know. It’s a surprise. Do you like it?” Now, looking back, I really hate that thing…
The look on the doctor’s face told me something was up. “I don’t know what it is, but I appreciate the thought,” I said, being honest. I tried to move away from the machine, but the doctor blocked my path. “I didn’t think you would. After all, it isn’t exactly easy to understand. This machine was designed specifically for you. To help you. Make you stronger. To help The Project,” he said. He then shoved me towards the bed and by some stupid luck of some kind, I landed perfectly aligned with the restraints, which automatically clamped closed. “What project?” I asked, trying to stay calm, though my fear must have been written all over my face, because the doctor laughed out loud, right in my face. “Not just any project. The one and only Project. The last medical Project. The Project,” he answered. “Hm, yes, very creative name,” I said. “Now could you please release me? I’m not fond of being strapped to tables attached to creepy unknown-purpose machines.” The sarcasm in my voice made him recoil slightly and his stare turned ice cold, regardless of how brown his eyes were. They seemed black with how he glared. “I think you deserve this. Didn’t you say you wanted to help? Now, be helpful and shut up,” he sneered. I closed my mouth, biting back the snarky comment on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t particularly want to get myself in any more trouble. “Good,” he said, and walked around to the other side of the machine. There was a control panel I hadn’t seen before over where he was, and when he started pressing buttons and flipping switches, I knew I should have called for help or stalled until someone else got there. I wish I had…
“Comfortable?” The doctor came back over to me to grin at me while the bed slowly began to turn so I was lying on my back. I couldn’t lean my head back or I would be forced to turn my head because of my ponytail, and that was not something I wanted to do. I didn’t want a view of the other machinery. “Not really,” I said, deciding to play along, partly because I wanted to annoy him more, and partly because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “My ponytail won’t make a very comfortable headrest. If you could get my hair tie out, I would be much more comfortable.” “That wasn’t a question,” he said, frowning. “Oh, really? The tone you used made it sure sound like one,” I answered, trying to stay calm, even as the machine began to hum and whir. What seemed like a shield of glass began to roll around the bed, encasing me like a coffin. “What’s this? My own shield? How thoughtful of you. Although I guess you can’t fix my hair now. Oh well,” I said, continuing my innocent, this-is-completely-normal-and-not-at-all-terrifying attitude. I wish I hadn’t done that…
The doctor’s eyes narrowed. Speaking through gritted teeth, he said, “You shouldn’t do that, miss. Tell me, what animal do you hate most?” I blinked at his question. What animal did I hate most? Why did he need to know that? “Raccoon,” I spoke, almost against my will. “Ever since I was 4 years old I have always hated them.” “Good,” he said, the grin returning. “Give me two more you hate and everything will be fine for you. Alright?” His tone made me feel like a little kid, but I had no choice. My voice came out almost without me knowing. “Well, it’s not an animal, but I hate moths. And komodo dragons. Those things always freaked me out.” “Interesting choices,” the doctor said, leaning over the glass. His name tag read “Dr. Bloordan” and when I looked at his face again his brown eyes now seemed deep red. Was I hallucinating? If only I had been…
He moved away and went back over to the controls of the machine. I heard something being pressed, at least 3 clicks, maybe typing. A metal piece went running up the glass shield until it was positioned above my eyes. A screen opened along it, about two inches in height, eight inches in width. The word “hello” printed across it. It then said, “You are here to recieve animal mutations to help you evolve, correct?” “Interesting,” I said. “Animal mutations. Why would I need those? I know why I wouldn’t, no, don’t, want them, but why would I need them?” “You don’t want them, correct?” the machine asked. “No,” Dr. Bloordan said. “She wants them. Didn’t you say in your application that you wanted to help us evolve? I believe you did. So yes, she wants them.” “Beginning evolver now,” the machine said. My mouth fell open, but no words came out. My throat was dry. I was going to become a mutant. I couldn’t break out, the restraints were perfectly fitted and I could not find any way to escape. I wish I could’ve found a way out, or just not gotten into that mess in the first place…
The doctor came over to me, looked at my bewilderment, and laughed. Not an evil laugh, like I expected, but a genuine, dad-like laugh. It made me think that there was something wrong here, that this was the wrong guy putting me in this place. I had never known my dad, he died before I was born, so it almost made me cry. This guy couldn’t possibly be here. But then he looked me in the eye again and I saw it, there, the evilness that his laugh had not held. It was all in his composure, in his eyes. They were a deep brown that appeared as deep red now. I was scared, but could do nothing as the machine put me to sleep with some kind of gas. And then everything went black…
I woke inside the machine, a beeping, flashing green light telling me something, but what, I don’t know. Was it over? Was I a mutant? “Well, I see you’re finally awake. Guess the sedative was too strong. Well, you know, a raccothadogon is a strange thing that needs to be controlled. I hope you knew that your choices were to be your new name? Well, anyways, hello there Raccothadogon,” said a familiar voice. It was Dr. Bloordan again, but where he was I couldn’t tell. I felt weird, like my body was the wrong size. I’d always had a strange ability to imagine my body was bigger or smaller when I was lying down, like change its proportions in my mind, but now it felt too real. Parts of me felt too heavy, others too light. There was a strange feeling on my back, like something was there that shouldn’t be. It was all too real, like a dream. Weird description, but my brain was disoriented and that’s the best way to put it. I felt like it was one of those super realistic dreams. I wish it had been a dream…
Dr. Bloordan pressed a button and the glass case slid away. He told me to sit up and I did, finally looking at myself. Or what I thought would be myself. My legs and arms were now those of a raccoon. My torso was that of a komodo dragon. I turned and moth wings were the source of that weird feeling on my back. I even had a raccoon tail. I felt my face with my new hands and found that it was mostly normal. My ponytail was gone, and my head seemed to be a raccoon head but with moth antennae. I turned to Dr. Bloordan, who was now at my side, and found that I had downsized. I was tiny against him, raccoon sized. “What… what have you… why… what the…” I said, unable to find the right words. Actually, there were quite a few I could have used, but didn’t, not wanting to dig myself a deeper hole of trouble. I wish I’d never been in that trouble in the first place…
“How am I supposed to help like this? I can’t carry out my daily tasks like this,” I said, finally finding something to say. “You’re not helping the GET-GO anymore, dear,” Dr. Bloordan told me, the way you would talk to a little kid. “Now, you’re helping me. This is what was meant when we would ‘hire’ you. You would be added to my team of test subjects. Now we can test shampoo and things on you and claim they were not animal tested, since you are technically not an animal.” “Or human,” I said, my voice cold. “And that can’t actually be what you’re gonna do to me, right?” “No, of course not,” he said. “That was a joke. I’m going to test other things on you. I’m going to… weaponize you.” He pulled a new syringe from around the machine. The liquid inside was blood red. “This small injection will trigger everyone from your past memories to become a target. You will have the irresistible desire to apprehend and bring in everyone you have ever interacted with. Family, friends, enemies, random people who complimented you, all of them.” “Even you?” I asked, hopeful. “Oh, didn’t think of that. I’m going to erase your memory of me first,” he said. I wish I hadn’t mentioned that loophole…
But when he injected me with that, I broke the restraints and went insane, desperate for bloodshed. The next few days were a blur. All I remember was running, hiding, sleeping, and hunting. I hunted my family, my friends, and all of them I brought to Dr. Bloordan. One day, I managed to catch my youngest brother, J.J., the one I was closest with. I felt a pang of guilt throwing him at Dr. Bloordan’s feet with my new strength, but the guilt was trampled when the doctor praised me. Something he had done with that injection had made me his. I don’t know what happened to any of the people I brought. I may never know. But I do know that that day another doctor and his team burst into Dr. Bloordan’s office, finding us. I whipped around and snarled while Dr. Bloordan tried to hide. The human part of me was glad that they had found us, rescuing my brother. But the animal part of me immediately wanted to tear them to shreds for ruining my moment of praise. I charged, but the doctors were faster than me. They caught me and sedated me. Chained me down. Eventually they tried to turn me back into a human. Did everything they could to reverse the effects of whatever Dr. Bloordan had done to me. Some was done with the original machine, a reverse, but some involved surgery, like the tail and wings. But even then, the want to eliminate my targets was too strong. So they put me here. In this cell. Where I am now, hungry and tired, the restraints too tight. Wishing none of it had happened…
I lift my head again as a sound reaches me. A door opens and light floods the cell. I try to ask for food, but can’t form the words. “Stop,” says a voice. “Don’t try to speak. Don’t move.” It’s my youngest brother, but what is he doing here? “J.J.?” I ask. “I said don’t talk. You’re too weak right now,” he says. He undoes the restraints at my wrists and helps me sit up. “You don’t want to kill me, do you?” he asks. I shake my head, realizing that that desire is gone. I am a complete human again. “Good,” he says. “Here, eat.” He hands me a bowl of soup that smells amazing. I gulp it down. “Good,” he says again. “Tomorrow we will try to stand. Today, just relax. You’ve been through a lot.” “What happened to… to those people? The ones he… he made me hunt,” I force myself to ask. But my brother’s face answers for him. He doesn’t even know. “And Dr. Bloordan? What happened to him?” I ask. J.J. smiles. “You will never hear that name again. I promise,” he says. After talking to me for a few minutes, he tells me he has to leave. He doesn’t bother with the wrist restraints again. And I’m glad he didn’t.
The next day I tried to stand, successfully. The next day, walking. I felt like a little kid, but at least I didn’t feel like an animal anymore. My life was slowly returning to normal. On the news I hear that Dr. Bloordan was sentenced to a lifetime of jail for what he had done. I stopped listening when I heard them start to talk about what he did with his victims. I didn’t want to know what happened to those poor people. I attended every memorial service, every funeral for all of them, telling the families what I’d done, been forced to do, how sorry I was, if I could make it up to them I would. All of them told me that nothing could repay a life, but my apology, my sincerity, made them feel better anyway. My brother and I went home. I’d gotten lucky that most of my family lived a plane ride away. That meant that I couldn’t reach them easily, so dismissed them as later missions. At home, everything was good. The GET-GO had to do serious investigations of all employees, but were lucky to discover that none were like Dr. Bloordan in any way. His assistant had had no idea of what he was doing and was shocked when told. So, all’s well that ends well.
Or is it?