The Confessions of Subject 917

Day 237:

It started off like usual. Lying in bed, trying to sleep. Small room; cross between a mental patient's room and a prison cell. Padded panel walls, a sink and toilet. A single bed with no windows. Nothing else.

It's emotionally draining living in a place like this.

And that's the condition they want us to live in.

The doors slide open, light bleeding into my room. My eyes feel the sudden flash of bright light, ending my stuggle to sleep. I hear the following voice break the silence:

“Subject 917, time to get up.”

As I start opening my eyes, I notice a Controller staying in the doorway, looking at me. Dressed in a black, police officer-style outfit and a large helmet with a computerized mask covering his face. He could pass for a robot if you ask me.

Looking at his mask, for some reason, I wonder what he’s really thinking about.

But his thoughts could be read by The Network for all I know.

All of them might be.

He enters my room and pulls me out of bed. He places me into a hallway where the other subjects are waiting. We all wear hospital gowns with numbers labeled onto them. A cloth cap covering our heads.

You could easily mistake us for cancer patients or recovering addicts.

They start matching us down the white sterile halls of Station One: our living spaces. We head towards Station Two: the examination rooms.

At one point, I pass this open door, noticing the children being given their daily history lesson via a TV monitor. The Controller inside that room closes the door when he notices me. Those poor kids, they must be enjoying all their grandparents’ faults that lead us to this.

The war. The breakdown of human society. The choice of leaving our fates into the hands of a global supercomputer. And it’s solution which we’re all currently living in.

Maybe they’re too young to even understand. I hope they are. And if so, I envy them.

For the first couple of hours, we were given various medications via IV bags, all in the experimental stages. The IVs are placed on wheeled poles and all the subjects walk around an open space as the medication begins running through our veins.

All meant to emotionally numb us.

After the IVs finish, we’re then placed into a dark screen room where a film is played continuously for hours. All showing people working, living a comfortably dull life. Various words like “conformity,” “healthy,” “productive” flash over the screen, all lasting for a micro-second.

And I swear I could hear something over the film’s soundtrack. Kinda sounds like a voice being played backwards.

One at a time, we’re taken to a white room. On the wall facing me is a camera lens. I hear this voice coming through the speakers, asking questions, wanting to know how I’m feeling. If the drugs and videos work.

I tell them what they want to hear, but I’m just lying through my teeth. Can’t help but wonder if one of these days they might catch onto me.

I know what The Network wants for all of us; it wants us to be like machines, free of emotions. The drugs, the videos, and the living arrangements. All of this is one, big experiment to condition us to get there.

This is The Network's solution to creating a better world.

As I’m leaving the white room, I hear a loud scream. I stop and see a subject, with the number 1071 written onto her gown. Two Controllers struggle to hold her down as she tries to break away from their grip.

“Gimme back my ring!!! You fucking assholes can’t do this anymore!!!!” She shouts.

But what catches my eyes is the blood stained over her mouth and gown. Must have come from her broken nose.

They go into an elevator and vanish from sight as the doors close. But I could still hear her screaming, eventually fading away as the elevator heads towards the 3rd floor, Section Three.

She’s not the first person I’ve seen go up there.

It’s night time and I’m back in my room. Once it’s lights out, I don’t go to sleep right away. I wait until I hear The Controllers leave the hall. They’re gone. I go to one of the panels, loosen it and remove it off the wall.

Inside is something that could place me into solitary, or maybe worse. It gets out an old locket, heart-shaped. After I sit against the wall of the room, open the locket, and there she is.

Inside the locket is a black-and-white photo of Meredith, my wife. It's been 237 days since I last saw her.

To be honest, I don’t even know where she is. It just makes me cry every time I think about it. And I think about it everyday.

Seeing this picture forms a memory. I remember laying in bed with her. Those beautiful eyes staring at me. The feel of her silky long hair. Holding her as I tell her that “everything is gonna be fine.”

And I’ll never forget the moment I gave her a kiss on the head, and the sound of the door breaking down.

The Controllers coming in and taking us away. All after refusing “volunteering” to be part of the experiment, like most of our friends have.

The last thing I could remember was Meredith screaming right as a black bag was placed over my head.

Tears formed in my eyes.

Suddenly, the sound of the other cells doors opening echoes. I could hear Controllers entering the other rooms. With that, I quickly put the locket back into the wall and place the panel over it. I get back into bed, a second later, the door opens and a Controller enters.

“Wake up. Room Inspection.” He states.

I look up, acting confused. “What? What happened?” I ask.

“Due to Subject 1071 having an unauthorized item, The Network has placed an order to search every subjects room for much items. As having them will comprise the nature of the experiment.” He states in a cold, mechanical way.

As he inspects the room, my eyes land on the panel. I noticed that it’s not placed properly. Before I could react, a second Controller standing in the doorway states: “That panel’s loose.”

My eyes turn as I try to tell them it’s been like that for months. I’m mid-sentence when the 1st Controller removes the panel.

And finds the locket.

“Unauthorized Item found.” The 1st Controller states to the 2nd.

As I see him get the locket, sudden reaction comes over me. Many months of suppressed emotion is unleashed. They can’t take her. I lunge at The 1st Controller, grabbing his arm as I try pulling the locket away from him.

The 2nd Controller, removing a baton from his belt, goes to attack me, stating in a detached tone:

“Release him.”

I don’t.

And with that, he strikes me in the back with a baton. I yell in pain, losing my grip on Controller 1’s arm. The locket flies out of our hands, hitting the wall, breaking apart.

Seeing this, a sudden flash of anger hits me. I yell out in rage, grabbing The 2nd Controller’s arm and biting it as hard as I could. I feel my teeth burying themselves through his flesh. He doesn’t scream, but he drops the baton and falls to his knees.

Getting it, I tackle the 1st Controller to the ground, and beat him with the baton. I keep doing this, over, and over, and over again, against that fucking mask. It breaks apart, and for the first time I see a Controller's face.

Blood runs down a blank, dehumanized face with cold eyes. No fear. Calm as hell.

As I stare at him, a gunshot rings out, and I feel a dart hitting my shoulder. I turn quickly enough to see The 2nd Controller with a Tranquilizer Gun in his hand. Within seconds, I black out.

For a brief moment, consciousness return. It’s all a blur. The bright hallway lights blinds me. I could feel Two Controllers dragging me down the hallway.

As my vision somewhat recovers, I notice other subjects standing in the doorways of their rooms. All standing, and all shouting in unison the same phrase in an emotionally detached manner:

“Subject 917 is a broken-down failure! Subject 917 is a broken-down failure!”

The voices echo all throughout as I black out once more, right as I’m being placed in the evaluator. “Station 3, Please.” A Controller states to the voice command as the door closes shut. I pass out.

Station 3, the home of broken-down failures, that’s where no subject wants to end at. And that’s where I awakened in.

In the background, I could hear other subjects screaming. An overhead light shines over me. Scraped onto an examination table so tightly, I can’t move.

Right as I struggle to break free, four Technicians come in, along with two Controllers who stand guard by the door. The Technicians are wearing surgical outfits and white computerized masks. I scream at them to let me out while overhearing two Technicians stating:

“The subject appears to have been unaffected by the experiment.” One Technician states. Following with: "Another rare example."

"An unauthorized item was found in his room. Having it could have distorted his conditioning." The 2nd Technician states as their conversation continues:

"Like Subject 1071?"

"Yes. And the others."

"We're gonna have to increase security measures on the subjects living conditions. We have to ensure no other unauthorized items are found."

"Point noted."

“On recommendation from The Network, it is decided to remove The Subject’s cerebellum organ for analysis.”

“For improvements to the experiment?”

“Correct. The Network can no longer tolerate any mistakes.”

“How many has that been?”

“13 subjects as of now”

“The improvements must be made then.”

“This is still the beginning. Best to get rid of the errors now.”

"Before we suffer punishment from The Network."

I scream out: “Are you fucking deaf? Get me outta here!!!”

“Gag the subject.” A Technician tells a Controller who walks over to me and gags my mouth.

The Technician follows with: “Prep for surgery.”

The Technicians begin placing rubber gloves over their hands. Surgical tools are brought in via a metal tray. Fear begins running through my system as I notice this.

I haven't felt this in a long time.

They start penciling a line over my head. Suddenly, a loud buzz fills the room.

I quickly turn and see a Technician holding a large power saw. My fear turns to complete dread. Body trembles in terror.

An injection is placed into my arm. Everything begins to fade out as I hear one of the Technicians calmly say to me:

“Not to worry. Your sacrifice will help ensure the continuation of the experiment. The Network needs the results of this procedure. All for the fellow subjects.”

The Technician with the saw stands to my side. He lowers the saw towards my direction.

The rapidly moving blade moves closer to my marked head.

A final thought through my mind:

Meredith...

...smiling at me in bed with those beautiful eyes and that lovely smile. A teardrop rolls down my face; something they cannot stop me from doing.

It’s a nice, final memory to end with.

And with it, I black out.