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  1. #1
    BPnet Veteran ev477's Avatar
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    "2028" -Creative Writing assignment

    So this is my creative writing story, I wrote it for a class and was pretty happy with the results... (sorry if it contains explicit content, I tried my best to remove that type of thing, administrators feel free to remove this thread if necessary).

    It's kind of a longer read for a thread but if you want to take the time and read it, I hope you enjoy it.


    Evan
    Middle Draft
    Fiction Workshop #2

    2028
    Swipe, I clip my identification card back on my shirt, open the door and walk into the bright, fluorescent bleached hallway. Arranged on the side of the hall is an assembly line of our work attire: a one piece paper jumpsuit, a doctor’s face mask, and a bouffant cap. As I exit the hallway only my black I.D. card with white numbering and my eyes are exposed to my coworkers. I used to think it was kind of weird but I guess you get used to it. All I have to identify myself is my number, 28, that’s my only name tag, that’s what people call me here. If I saw a co-employee outside of work I would have no idea that I worked with them.

    Swipe, I open the door and exit the changing station and enter my workplace. Only one person allowed in at a time, it never gets backed up though, people are always scheduled to arrive in thirty minute intervals to make sure situations like that never happen.

    “Excuse me… 28,” a coworker says as he looks at my nametag. I back against the door as he pushes a body bag on a stretcher that he nearly ran me over with.

    “Sorry 71,” I say then proceed to follow him down the narrow, white, quiet corridor. Not even a squeak from the stretchers wheels. I know that Lab R is the fifth one on the left, although there aren’t any labs on the right. Swipe, I shut the door behind me.

    Lab R is where our disease testing is occurring, specifically AIDS. It is quite humane, we don’t have to worry about people feeling pain. All the subjects in this test are in a comatose state. If I had to go out one way, I would prefer it to be like how these people die. The people of the nervous system lab, Lab V, make sure to reconfigure the brain so that only the necessary functions for life are used. Yes it is sort of a lobotomy. It’s quite interesting how they do it, but we’ll get to that later.

    “25, any new findings so far today?” we make eye contact, but only for a second.

    He looks down at his charts, looks through the windows from the end of the furthest tip of the L shaped lab station at the row of 10 bodies and replies, “Nothing so far. We lost the blond after we tried the newest treatment. She was replaced though, got some fresh skin in here.”

    “Good,” I knew that meant I had to do my job. I walk away from the bend in the hall to the top of the L, swipe my card to unlock a cabinet full of vials. I look between the Parkinson’s labels and the cancer labels to see HIV. I look through the window to see the new face of this study. It’s such a shame that a person could actually pay to kill themselves. It is helping the greater good of society, even when they don’t realize they are still alive.

    I walk into the rotting smelling room of patients. They are all alive, though your nose might disagree. The feeding tubes and waste chambers are all functioning properly. It’s just the decaying body that begins to reek when it’s not moving. I walk to the third bed, the new patient, such an innocent looking person. I retract the fluid from the vial into a syringe and inject it right into the bicep of this brain dead man.

    It’s not hard to keep people from dying that have HIV. We are currently working on how to revert AIDS back to HIV. Our future testing will include the cure for HIV, a theory is that we can use a simple virus to spread the DNA that will null the effects of the HIV virus. It’s nothing new on paper, but it’s just too unethical to test this potentially deadly theory on real people.

    25 had already prepared the feeding tube, the catheter and all that good stuff. That is his job. I would hate it if I was him, but I am the one dishing out disease for a job. For this experiment I am merely someone who prepares the conditions for others to observe. There are preparers, observers and the clean up crew.

    I walk out of the door of the testing room to observe the conditions of the specimens. 25 and I take notes on the progress of the disease in each person. They will receive the treatment as soon as the disease reaches its desired level.




    “AHH!” the screaming never stops, only for a second for a person to take a breath. Most people die from exhaustion within the day. My subject is beginning to regain consciousness from the overdose he previously received and he is just in fear. He isn’t feeling any pain yet. His eyes look up at mine, I look back down at the fclip board and fill in his forms; Subject is properly restrained: check, Subject is conscious: check.

    “What are you going to do to me?” John yells. His eyes wide are darting around the room. His head buckled to the back of his chair, his hands, legs, arms and torso are all restrained, and his struggle will not move him but a fraction of an inch.

    “Don’t move, it will not help you, you will be dead shortly,” I reassure him, that is the only thing I am allowed to say. I would lose my job if I said he might be living for a while, even though he probably won’t. The sweat on his forehead is dripping over the buckle, as I insert the microchip into the brutal machine he lets out yells that you would only hear in a horror movie. The computer screen displays the x-ray and I select the target area right in the heart of the spinal column to hopefully reach the spinal cord. As the cold flat steel presses up against his neck his shrill cries grow.

    I push the button to begin the sequence and leave the room for observation. The patient cannot make words, his screams say it all though. The machine pulls the micro plate directly behind his neck, the gap in the chair fits perfectly for the machine. Two sharp steel blades collapse onto the micro plate and the air pressure starts to rise. The steel against his neck separates and the robotic arm arrives an inch from his neck. His eyes dart at the mirror window, wide open; they look from the window to his left and the door right in front of him. It’s like the dentist chair from hell. I watch and see a blur as the blades dive into his spinal column and pull back out. The micro plate is a conductor of electricity, it senses the connections that drive the body. The blades, once pushed together, leave the back of John’s neck angled, blood spurts out in four separate streams on the wall behind him. The machine proceeds to wire the micro plate to the reading module to the back of his neck. John’s skin is seared as the sides of the module attach to him. No more blood.

    John pukes all over himself as I slide my card to open the door. He survived the first part of this experiment. Tears fall down his face, snot drips from his nose, and the yelling, it does not stop. I push the Taser shaped computer into the divots in the module and the download is complete.

    “Skin is burning! God!” he pukes again as he screams the words. All the signals from the body are not actually giving him any pain. The micro plate is just beginning to read the signals and relaying them throughout the body. It takes a few minutes for John’s brain to get used to these interactions. Not that the burning feeling will go away. I touch the top of his arm with a cotton swab.

    “AHHH!” he screams a few seconds later, his eyes glaring at mine, his eye brows confused at what is happening to him. The micro plate automatically recalibrates and I swab his hand again, this time with a scream right on cue from me touching his hand.

    In Lab V, we work with the nervous system. I prepare the initial equipment for the rest of the study. We are able to locate the nerves that control every part of the body. With this information we are able to design replacement limbs and appendages. However brutal we are, we are always working to advance our understanding of the human body.

    The fluid from the syringe squirts out to remove the bubbles. “This will numb everything for a little bit,” I say bringing a needle towards his neck.

    “Screw you, you... You number!” John says to me, “I should be dead! Kill me right now!”

    At least I am not a random John or Jane.





    From Lab V, I make my way towards the beginning of the alphabet. Lab S, in white letters on a black background on a piece of plastic, I’ve never been in that lab, I think as I glance at the letter. 84 leads ahead of 93 pushing a white cart with cabinets. The clean-up crew. They pass me between Lab P and Q. People of the clean up crew have higher numbers. I think it is because they started filling positions with lower numbers then they later realized the mess they would be making and created positions for new people. Every person’s number is a specific job. People do interact, but in a choreographed manner that is set up by the company.

    Swipe, the door for Lab F opens. The most interesting lab we have, in my opinion. I am an observer for this experiment. We are currently testing drugs to counter the effects of “cabin fever.” Some people have disbelief in this disease. We, at this government facility, know that “cabin fever” is real. People start to lose their minds after so much time in isolation. What we do, is send people on simulated space travels. They are in a simulated spacecraft with a real co-pilot. They receive simulated messages from us and they send real messages back. There is a simulated delay to the response of these simulated messages. Their “journey” is for a far off solar system that is about forty five years travel from earth. They are told that they are chosen to be launched into space as part of an experiment. They wake up as they are leaving the earth’s atmosphere, usually, if they wake up before the simulation starts we just kill them, they are disposable.

    Back to the “cabin fever,” for the first year the subjects are told not to use drugs. We observe how they behave. John and Jane never make a good couple. They fight more than brother and sister, sometimes John will kill Jane, sometimes Jane will kill John. We refer to them by these names but they refer to each other by their real names.

    Right now John and Jane are after the first year. The drugs they are encouraged to take are optional. We can modify the treatment through the medication drawer, we have access to it and they are never aware that we give them different medication. We make small changes to make sure there are not realizations of these changes. Jane is encouraging John to take the medication. She does not have any attitude; “Curtis, remember last week, you took the medication and you had no trouble with your workout, you have not been completing your workout since you stopped taking the medication.”

    “Yeah, but it just feels weird, I don’t like taking it,” Curtis says. “We’re just doing what they want us to do.”

    “There’s nothing we could do about it now,” Amy tells him, “we could be finding a habitable planet, or other forms of life, or who knows what else! I have told you a million times, we have these drugs to help us, there is nothing wrong with taking help.” The stereotypical female role, you should have seen Amy just yesterday though, when she forgot to take her medication.

    “You’re crazy, you need this medication to make it through here alive,” Curtis thinks he is sane but we speculate that he isn’t. “You know what? It’s over, I’m through with putting up with this. We’re going no where fast, you are so stupid you don’t even understand it!” he yells at her waving his arms around in the air.

    “Calm down, there’s nothing we can do about it now,” Amy says in a relaxed cool tone, sitting, not even concerned about his frustration. She is basically a robot programmed to reason for the continuation of the trip.

    “I’m done with this,” Curtis proclaims. He pries the medication drawer out from the wall of the simulated cockpit and carries it to the front of the craft. He swings it towards the simulated window projecting the simulated space travel and the metal bends and deforms the drawer. The surplus of pills is caught in the connection, spraying hundreds of white mind numbing substances into the cockpit. “You want me to take my meds?” Curtis yells, “I’ll take them, just watch me!” He swipes his arm across the floor and begins to shove pills down his throat by the dozen. Pills are falling out of his mouth and Amy remains watching, calmly.

    “Are you alright?” Amy asks, although a child would be able to recognize the irrational state he is in.

    “Yeah! I’m so great right now!” Curtis yells, eyes wide, his face a foot apart from hers. He lets out a loud scream and stomps to the simulated door with a simulated wheel to open it, none of which are functional. He tries to turn the wheel but it does not budge. He cannot get the simulated vacuum of space to destroy him and his co-pilot.

    “59, the experiment seems to be near its end,” I say from my observation window. “We cannot alter the treatment and we might have a death with John.”

    “Well 28, you might be right,” 59 says letting a sigh out, “but we should continue observing and see if John recovers from this stunt. We can worry about the situation with the cabinet tomorrow.”

    “I agree, I will file an incident report.” You always have to file an incident report when something happens that destroys the study. The boss, Professor Inchslenglad, is responsible for determining the status of an experiment, whether it is over or not. No one knows much about this deranged man. He comes up with all these experiments and worked with the government to use suicidal people for his test subjects. I heard about these types of experiments in graduate school but laughed at how ridiculous they were until a colleague asked if I was interested in work. He heard about a job opening for people interested in experimental studies. I filled the 28th position after his friend. I am no longer allowed to have contact with my colleague.





    It looks like any other doctor’s office you would see. I walk to the receptionist’s counter, sign the clipboard for an appointment, Jonas Engle. I sit down in the waiting room on a surprisingly uncomfortable leather chair. There is no decline from the knees to the back, it is straight, firm, the back at a 90 degree angle. White leather, the floor is white, there is no pattern on the floor, just a flat white. There are no magazines, people who want to die don’t care if they are entertained.

    “John,” I hear the receptionist call me, “You need to fill out this paperwork.” Euthanistic Infirmary and Crematorium, the name of the company was printed in plain white letters over a black background. It is not really a crematory. It just makes it easy to cover up what happens to the bodies. I had already filled out some paperwork like this over a year ago. Not just anyone can kill themselves; you have to really want it done. You have to be over thirty years old. You have to fill out paperwork to inform your employers that you are killing yourself. 40286-28 I write for my employee identification number. I sign my life away and return the paper work to the receptionist.

    “John,” a receptionist calls my name. I follow him through the renovated doctor’s office to the room where I will hopefully die. I sit on the table that has straps and buckles on it and the receptionist closes the door behind him. There isn’t a sink or cabinets like the usual doctor’s office, just a table with straps.

    “Hello, you can call me Dr. Inchslenglad, you shood be fery familiar vith my name,” the notorious man spat out in a heavy German accent. He grimaced and exposed his teeth, the bottom row was crowded with two in the bottom overlapping, the tooth behind was covered in a black filth. He was a gruesome looking man.

    “Hello… Professor”

    “We have something fery special planned out for you,” he said then exposing his crowded teeth. He knows that I came from working in his laboratories, I put my notice in to him to tell him that I was coming to him to kill myself. “All of our employees that vant euthanasia as a solution are sure to be poot to a good sleep.”

    Professor Inchslenglad straps my legs onto the table and hands me a pill the size of a peppermint along with a glass of water. I throw the pill into my mouth, drink the water, lie down and the professor straps my hands, and head into place. “Thank you for your work Jonas,” Inchslenglad says with a smile revealing his disgusting tooth.




    A warm sensation runs through my body, like if you were embarrassed, but it feels good. It feels like the rush you get from the first time you are in love, when a tingling sensation runs across your nerves and unexplained powerful heat pumps through your veins. All I see is darkness, I cannot move, my body is too heavy.

    “You get his legs and I’ll get his shoulders,” a voice says as the tension from the straps is released. I release a slow breath of air as I am lifted, not even a trace of life is in me. Wind brushes my face as I am pushed through the hallways of the doctor’s office. My heavy eyelids open slowly and my head falls to its side. A man above my head looks down at me and chuckles. All I see is bleached white walls dividing door, after door after door. I arrive in a room, I see stainless steel cabinets are all around the perimeter as I am pulled into position. One of the cabinets is open, a large tray is pulled out.

    “One, two… Three,” a man says as he lifts me up and places me on the tray. My eyes shut. I feel a tag placed around my toe. A cold shiver goes from my toe and continues to my neck then back down to reverberate through the rest of my body. They slide me into the cabinet and lock the cabinet door.





    Click, I hear the door activate after the swipe from employee number 25. He looks at me, wearing his paper jumpsuit, his bouffant cap, his doctor’s mask. He makes eye contact, but only for a second. He looks back down at his clip board and writes in the forms. There is nothing familiar in the room I am in. There is not a cockpit, I am not strapped into a chair and I am still awake. I am certain that I am in Lab S.



    Thanks for your time. Feedback would be great, it is still in the works... I really didn't like Dr. Inkshlenglad so I'll probably remove him and give more rationalizing for the ending. (if this is better suited for the quarantine room, that'd be great if someone moved it, sorry for inconvenience if there is any, I just hope people enjoy reading this)
    Evan
    0.0.1 Sinaloan Milk Snake (Vegas)
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    Feel free to correct me on my grammar.

  2. #2
    BPnet Veteran littleindiangirl's Avatar
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    Re: "2028" -Creative Writing assignment

    I liked it, so far so good! The only thing I will comment on though (if this makes any sense) is the switch back and forth from first person narrator to third person/narrator.... If that makes sense.
    Just a bit confusing for me. I'm just not used to first person I guess!! It's late forgive me if I'm just reading it wrong.

    Very good though, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

  3. #3
    Registered User naba2002's Avatar
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    Re: "2028" -Creative Writing assignment

    good job you could be on to something here if u continue with this, the only thing i can criticize is how you tried to give the proffesor an accent. i think it would be much more affective to just describe the accent like you did everything else.

  4. #4
    BPnet Veteran Thor26's Avatar
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    Re: "2028" -Creative Writing assignment

    Quote Originally Posted by littleindiangirl View Post
    I liked it, so far so good! The only thing I will comment on though (if this makes any sense) is the switch back and forth from first person narrator to third person/narrator.... If that makes sense.
    Just a bit confusing for me. I'm just not used to first person I guess!! It's late forgive me if I'm just reading it wrong.

    Very good though, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
    ya i agree that was a bit confusing that and i cant figure out how to say the doctors name lol other than that very good

  5. #5
    BPnet Veteran ev477's Avatar
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    Re: "2028" -Creative Writing assignment

    Quote Originally Posted by Thor26 View Post
    ya i agree that was a bit confusing that and i cant figure out how to say the doctors name lol other than that very good
    I can see how the story would be confusing, I don't really know how to go out and say what the story is about without just saying it, and I don't like to say the plot in the story. (By the way the doctor's name is pronounced Ink-sh-len-glad)

    Quote Originally Posted by naba2002 View Post
    good job you could be on to something here if u continue with this, the only thing i can criticize is how you tried to give the proffesor an accent. i think it would be much more affective to just describe the accent like you did everything else.

    I agree with the accent, I think it is a little over-done, I am probably going to change it so that he doesn't sound as creepy in person, and have it so he's just talking to Jonas because he had worked for the company... There's a lot I could change there and I'm still wondering what I should do.


    Quote Originally Posted by littleindiangirl View Post
    I liked it, so far so good! The only thing I will comment on though (if this makes any sense) is the switch back and forth from first person narrator to third person/narrator.... If that makes sense.
    Just a bit confusing for me. I'm just not used to first person I guess!! It's late forgive me if I'm just reading it wrong.

    Very good though, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
    It was supposed to be in 1st person the whole time, like thor said, it might be confusing at times. If this doesn't make sense it would be great if you let me know where you're talking about where I do this... I'm glad you enjoyed it! I feel like I could write a book about this idea.

    It's probably pretty hard to read on the forums too, It was a lot easier for me to read in a word document...


    Thanks for your time guys
    I appreciate your time I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did
    Evan
    0.0.1 Sinaloan Milk Snake (Vegas)
    0.0.1 Colombian Boa Constrictor (Ticuna)
    Feel free to correct me on my grammar.

  6. #6
    BPnet Veteran pythontricker's Avatar
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    Re: "2028" -Creative Writing assignment

    Nice!
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