ENTRY 5: FELLOW SUBJECTS

What a damn day.

My brain has been floating in a haze for hours now. Shit feels off. I keep zoning out, staring at the same spot on the wall, trying to remember what the hell I was thinking about two seconds earlier. This is exactly the kind of shit I was afraid of, Dr. Nelson. Thank God I have this laptop to sort out my shit right now.

Today’s dose was nothing special. I was half expecting some crazy ass trip, but I remained firmly planted in this dull facility. I just lay there strapped in the chair feeling tired and sort of bored. No crazy visions, no wild screaming, no nightmares… nothing. Like the drug skipped me completely. I gotta be on that fucking placebo or maybe this shit just doesn’t work on me.

But something did happen with one of the others.

I was half dozing when I heard it. A low choking sound from across the circle. Then a sudden gasp like someone was fighting for air. I cracked my eyes open just in time to see Randy’s body jerk hard in his chair, once, then again. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were staring straight up at the ceiling like he was seeing something I couldn’t. For a second I thought the big dummy was dying right there.

Then it stopped.

He went still again. The machines kept beeping like nothing happened. Nobody else moved or said a word. I blinked a few times, wondering if I imagined the whole fucking thing.

Thankfully, that was the only strange thing I saw. No one else had much of a reaction. At least not while I was still conscious.

After a while everyone was awake and Roberts and Waters guided us back into the common room for what they called a group introduction session. Dr. Nelson stood in front of us and laid down the law.

“Everyone’s going to share a little about themselves,” he said. “First name, where you’re from, why you’re here. Keep it honest.”

We dragged our chairs into a sloppy circle. Randy made sure to sandwich his fat ass right between me and Emily. On her left was Chuck, then Ben, Chester, Frank, and good old Rudy sitting directly across from me. On Rudy’s left were Amanda, Lynette, Kyle, Michael, Walter, and Jeff ended up on my right.

I finally know everyone’s names after today thanks to this shit.

Dr. Nelson looked around the circle and pointed at me. “Jake, why don’t you start us off.”

Of course he picked me first. How charmed my fucking life is.

I leaned back in the chair. “My name’s Jake McCoy. I’m from Revere, Massachusetts. I’m a gambling addict who owes five grand to some very bad people. I’m here because I’m broke, stupid, and just didn’t have any other way to fix my shit.”

Randy let out a loud snort. “God damn, dude. You really don’t hold back.”

Emily turned her head toward me, looking genuinely curious for once. “Five grand? What happens if you don’t pay them?”

I looked at her and for the first time I actually noticed how cute she is. Long blonde hair, sort of sad blue eyes, and that tired-pretty face that makes you wonder what her story is.

I shrugged. “They break my legs. Or worse. I’ve seen them do it to guys who owed less. You got five grand I can borrow?” I laughed.

She smiled a little and looked back down at her lap.

The room got quiet for a second. A few people shifted in their seats. For the first time since we got here, some of them actually looked at me like I was a real person.

“Thank you, Jake. Randy, please go next,” Dr. Nelson said.

Randy looked around like a deer caught in headlights. He sucked in a huge breath and just went for it.
​
“Hey folks, I’m Randy and right now I gotta take a massive shit,” he declared. Laughter broke out all over the room.

“I’m just fucking with you…” he smiled. “I got a wife and two kids at home. Stupid bitch was threatening to divorce me if I didn’t get a job, so here I am. I used to be a janitor at the high school, but I got fired for slapping a student.”

“Why did you slap the student?” Dr. Nelson asked, stepping up behind him.

Randy cleared his throat. “The kid was a real piece of shit, teasing this other boy, shoving him around. My brother was gay and used to get that same crap when we were young. He was a good man. I lost him a few months ago in a bad car accident. The guy behind the wheel was plastered and… well, no, hold on…”

Something was clearly gnawing at Randy. Right then his body jerked hard in the chair, mouth open wide, eyes the size of dinner plates staring straight up at the ceiling — exactly like he did during this morning’s dose. It lasted a second before he blinked and shook it off.

“Anyway,” he said, voice breaking, “every time that jackass bullied that kid, all I could see was my little brother. I just… I lost it.”

Before anyone could say anything, Chester leaned forward with a nasty smirk. “So why the hell aren’t you in jail, tough guy? You can’t just go around hitting kids last I checked.”

Randy turned his head slowly and stared Chester down. “Because the kid’s parents didn’t want the school digging into all the shit their son had been doing. They made a deal with the principal. No charges, no cops, just me getting fired.”

Dr. Nelson stood a few feet behind Rudy, slowly cleaning his glasses. “Thank you for sharing. I’m sorry about your brother.”

Next up was Emily. She stood up, brushed her long blonde hair behind one ear, and spoke in a quieter voice than usual.

“I’m Emily Vanderbilt. I’m not here for the money. My family has plenty of that.” She gave a small, bitter smile. “I’m here because… I need something to work. Anything. I’ve tried every pill, every doctor, every program there is. Nothing touches it. So yeah… I’m hoping this one actually fixes what’s broken in my head.”

For the first time she didn’t sound stuck up. She sounded real. I caught myself staring at her — her soft skin, the curve of her breasts — like I was under some kind of spell. For some reason that made me feel really anxious, and it still does.

Chester leaned forward, flashing that fake salesman grin. “Wait a minute. You’re a Vanderbilt and you’re still volunteering to be a guinea pig? That’s gotta be the dumbest rich-white-girl privilege I’ve ever heard. You’ve got money, and you’re still chasing pills? Jesus Christ, some people really are just born stupid.”

Randy stood up fast, marched over, and loomed over Chester. “You give this girl the respect of keeping your fucking mouth shut. You hear me, pal? Or I’ll rip that dangle of hair off your head and shove it up your ass.”

Chester stood up and went face to face with Randy. “Big tough guy. You gonna hit me too, janitor man?”

The guards twitched like they were about to step in, but Dr. Nelson raised his hand. “That’s enough. Both of you sit down. Now.”

Randy glared at Chester for another second, then dropped back into his chair like a sack of bricks.

Jeff, sitting on my right, leaned over and whispered, “Chester’s a real douchebag, huh?”

“Yeah,” I muttered back. “Fucking prick.”

Emily picked up where she left off, unfazed. “Anyway… I didn’t feel much from the dose. Just got really tired and woke up groggy. I might be here for nothing after all.” She glared at Chester and sat back down.

That got me thinking about Stephanie. Nobody had said her name out loud since yesterday. It was like she never existed. That bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

“Thank you Emily. Chuck, the floor is yours.”

Chuck stood up slow, like he really didn’t want to. He’s a big, mean-looking son of a bitch. Not showy muscle, just thick and heavy from years of real work. Crew cut hair with some gray in it, arms covered in old tattoos, and a face that looked like it had been hit a few times and didn’t give a shit.

“I’m Chuck Meyers,” he said, voice flat. “Former US Marine. I did steel framing for the city until my back decided it was done with me. Now I’m here. Thanks, y’all.”

He sat back down just as quick. No extra words. A couple people muttered “Thank you for your service.” Chuck gave a small nod like he’d heard that line a thousand times and was tired of it. I respected that.

“Thank you Chuck. Next up Ben,” Dr. Nelson called out.

Ben looked like he wanted to sink into his chair and go missing. Skinny redheaded kid, barely out of high school, big ears and nervous eyes. His freckled face was already turning red before he even opened his mouth.

“Um… I’m here to pay off my student loans. Or at least a good chunk of them,” he mumbled. “Oh, I’m Ben by the way…”

Dr. Nelson nodded. “What were you studying, Ben?”

Ben let out a nervous little chuckle. “That’s the thing… nothing really. I got student loans for an online school and used the extra cash to go to Vegas and try to be a, you know, uh, a stand-up comedian.”

Michael perked up. “Tell us a joke!”

Ben froze, staring at the ceiling. Finally he shrugged and went for it.

“Okay, um… a man was at a bar when a genie sat next to him and said he could grant two wishes. The man’s first wish was an endless glass of beer. Poof… the glass appeared and never emptied. He was really happy about that. Then the genie asked for the second wish. The man looked at the full glass and finally said, ‘I guess I’ll take another one.’"

Randy and I laughed. Most of the room just sat there blinking. Poor kid. Tough fucking crowd.

Ben shrugged again. “Yeah… that’s why I’m here. It didn’t go so hot.” He sat down fast like he couldn’t get out of the spotlight soon enough.

I feel a little confused about him. How the fuck does a shy kid like that decide to become a stand-up comedian?

“Thank you Ben. Now it’s your turn, Chester,” Dr. Nelson said, sounding like he already regretted it.

Chester leaned forward with that big fake toothy smile. “I’m Chester, currently from Boston, originally from Sacramento—”

Californian, huh? That explains so much.

“—I’m here for the money. I’ve done a bunch of these trials before and let me tell you, this one is the strictest I’ve seen. But hey, rules are meant to be broken, am I right?” He laughed and winked at Emily.

Emily just rolled her eyes.

He kept yapping and yapping. It was fucking annoying. He’s educated, he’s been in charge of shit, he’s got a lot of followers on Instagram, blah blah blah.

Randy finally groaned loud enough for everyone to hear. “Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up already, used car salesman.”

Chester turned on him fast. “I am not and never was a fucking used car salesman. I’ve got my bachelor’s degree!”

Randy smirked. “For what?”

“Women’s studies,” Chester said proudly.

Randy let out a thunderous howl. “Oh shit! That explains everything.”

A couple people chuckled. Chester’s face turned red, but he finally shut his mouth. I could already tell this guy didn’t play nice with others. He just liked hearing himself talk.

Finally, Dr. Nelson politely thanked Chester and moved on to Frank.

Frank is a quiet Asian guy with thick glasses who apparently doesn’t want to be around the rest of us. He eats his meals in the corner and then heads straight back to his room as fast as he can. When Dr. Nelson called on him, Frank just slowly shook his head. That was it.

Dr. Nelson stepped closer. “Frank? Anything at all?”

Frank didn’t even look up. He just stared at the floor like the rest of us weren’t even there.

Dr. Nelson gave a small sigh. “Okay Frank, maybe not today. Rudy, your turn buddy.”

Randy groaned. “Oh great, here we go.”

Rudy took his sweet time. He leaned back in his chair, that permanent oily sneer spreading across his fat face as he slowly looked around the circle, staring at each of us like he was figuring out which meat to buy at the butcher shop. The room got real quiet.

Finally he opened his mouth.

“I’m Rudy,” he said, voice low and raspy. “And that’s all you need to know.”

Chester couldn’t help himself. “This is bullshit!” he snapped, looking straight at Dr. Nelson. “The guy busts ass every ten minutes and we’re all just supposed to sit here and breathe it in? That’s not right, Doc. Do something about it!”

Rudy turned his head slowly toward Chester, eyes dead and flat. “That’s because my guts are fucked from twenty years of cheap prison food and bad booze. Doctor says it’s something called ‘diverticulitis’ or whatever the fuck. Means I shit and fart like a broken sewer pipe. Happy now?”

A few people chuckled nervously. Randy shook his head. “Jesus Christ, this guy…”

Jeff leaned over and whispered to me, “Prison for what?”

Before I could answer, Rudy’s head snapped toward Jeff, that smirk getting wider. “Doesn’t matter for what,” he said softly, almost friendly. “What matters is… some of the guys in there never did make it back out. One even looked a little bit… like you.”

Jeff's face turned pale and nobody laughed this time. Even Chester shut his mouth. Rudy just leaned back, crossed his arms over his big gut, and didn’t say another word. The way he looked at us made my skin crawl.

Dr. Nelson gave him an awkward little nod and kept moving around the circle. “Amanda, you’re up next.”

Amanda moved her chair a little further away from Rudy and sat up straight. She was a short-haired white woman in her forties or fifties with thick glasses and a tired but tough look about her.

“Hello everyone. I’m Amanda, call me Mandy if you want,” she said, her voice loud and clear. “I just want to say I’m here for the same reason as you are, sweetheart,” she added, looking directly at Emily.

“I was a veterinarian and I’m now a recovering alcoholic. I lost my practice because I was too drunk to actually do my job.” She winced. “I’m sort of here for the money, but I’m also here because I’ve been sober for three months now and it’s driving me up a fucking wall. I’ll take the money, but I really hope—”

Her voice cracked.

“—I really hope this Formula 35C gives me a way out of this darkness I feel. My daughter died two years ago… and I just can’t get past it.”

Tears started rolling down her face. Lynette reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s awful, honey. I’m so sorry.”

Amanda wiped her eyes and tried to smile. “Thanks. I just… I need something to change.”

Dr. Nelson handed her a tissue and patted her on the shoulder, whispering something I couldn’t hear. She nodded and settled back into her chair, still sniffling.

Damn. I wasn’t expecting that.

“Lynette, it’s your turn.”

Lynette leaned forward, her bright pink hair catching the light. She didn’t waste any time.

“Before I say a damn thing about myself, I got a question. There were four women here when we started. Now there’s only three. Stephanie is gone and nobody got questions? Four women. Now three. What the hell is wrong with you all?”

Everyone's faces turned blank.

Dr. Nelson stared at her for a moment and then said, “We’ll address that at the appropriate time, Lynette.”

“Motherfucka, I already asked you three times,” Lynette snapped. “Appropriate time? Now is the appropriate time. Right now. Where the hell is that girl?”

Dr. Nelson raised one hand, his voice calm but ice-cold.

“The paperwork you all signed on day one was very clear. Trial conditions can and will change. Not every participant will remain suitable. Stephanie had a serious adverse reaction. She was removed immediately for her own safety. That is all the information I am at liberty to give you right now.”

He paused, eyes moving across the circle like he was daring anyone to push further.

Lynette stared at him hard for a second, then finally sat back, still pissed. “Fine. Whatever. I’m Lynette. Single mother from Dorchester with three kids. I need this money. That’s why I’m here. None of my kids know what I’m really doing. I told them it was a secret job. That’s all I’m saying for now.”

She crossed her arms and shut down.

“Thank you Lynette. Kyle, your turn young man,” Dr. Nelson said.

Kyle stood up like he couldn’t be bothered. He’s in his twenties, long raven black hair that he kept flipping out of his face, a 666 tattoo on his neck, and this permanent half-smirk like the rest of us were beneath him.

“I am Kyle,” he said, leaning back like he was the most interesting person in the room. “Look, this trial is kinda boring so far, but I’m hoping Formula 35C finally unlocks the real shit inside me. I study Aleister Crowley. He taught that the right chemicals can open doors normal people are too weak to even knock on. I’m not here for the money. I’m here to awaken my hidden power…”

Randy raised an eyebrow. “So what kind of hidden power are you hoping for? You gonna start levitating or some shit?”

Kyle gave a lazy smile. “Nah, man… this is about opening levels of consciousness the average sheep will never even touch. Crowley called it the Great Work. I’ve done LSD, DMT, mushrooms, every pill I could get my hands on… and it’s all been weak. This Formula 35C? This might finally be the key that unlocks the real me.”

Randy snorted. “You sound like you’ve been reading too many comic books, man.”

Kyle just shrugged, unbothered. “We’ll see.”

He sat back down.

I didn’t say shit out loud, but something about what he said stuck with me. Not because I believed it, but because part of me wondered… what if the drug really could unlock something? I shook the thought off quick.

“Alright Kyle, thank you. Moving on! Michael, please go ahead,” Dr. Nelson said, sounding relieved.

Michael stood up with that big, easy smile of his. He’s the friendly Colombian guy with dark curly hair and this warm vibe that makes you forget for a second we’re all stuck in this weird prison.

“Hey everyone,” he said, looking around the circle like we were old friends. “I’m Michael. I came from Colombia seven years ago. I’m a chef, or at least I was. I love cooking real food. When this experiment is over and I get the money, I’m going to open my own little restaurant in East Boston. Nothing fancy, just good, honest plates. No more of this bland chicken and shake crap they keep feeding us.”

Randy perked up. “Finally someone talking sense. I’m dying over here, man.”

Michael laughed. “Exactly! That’s why I need this money. So I can cook for people again instead of just dreaming about it. First meal is on the house for everyone when I open the place.”

A couple people nodded. Even Emily gave a small smile.

​Michael sat back down, still grinning.

The guy’s got real charisma.

Dr. Nelson then shifted his attention to a man named Walter and I realized he was like a hidden character I hadn’t noticed until now. Some old dude who’d been lurking in the shadows the whole time. Walter looked like a crazy old fuck who stepped out of a time capsule from the 1960s. Messy white hair, thick glasses that made his eyes look huge, and a skinny frame hunched forward.

Everyone turned and stared at him. He just sat there rubbing his knees for a long moment, looking lost in his own head. Finally, he looked up, all slow and dramatic, and locked eyes on Kyle.

“You,” Walter said, pointing a shaky finger. “With that mark of the beast on your neck. You speak of Aleister Crowley like he was a prophet. That man was a servant of darkness. You play with fire, boy. You invite demons into your soul with that talk.”

Kyle just smiled. “It’s not demons, old man. It’s transcendence.”

Walter’s eyes widened. “Transcendence? Foolish boy. Repent before it’s too late.”

The room got tense.

Randy couldn’t resist. “Hey, you old bastard, what about you? You got anything to say about yourself?”

Walter lifted his head and stared at Randy with those giant magnified eyes. “I am a sinner like all of you. And I see the darkness coming for this place. It comes for all of us!”

Dr. Nelson clapped his hands once, sharp. “Thank you, Walter. Jeff, you’re up next.”

Jeff was sitting right next to me, the long-haired grunge kid who always looks like he’s about to fall asleep. He cleared his throat a couple times, looking nervous as hell, and finally mumbled, “Uh… I’m Jeff, from Malden. I’m twenty-two and I figured, hey, why not make some quick cash getting high?”

He shifted in his seat and shot me this desperate look. I just gave him a little nod.

“Anyway,” he went on, “I haven’t really felt the high, just kinda tired a lot, you know? I dropped out of college and needed the money so… this whole thing is kicking my ass. I’m dying for a cigarette and a joint right now, man. Half the room probably feels the same. Hell, I could use a strong cup of coffee too.”

A bunch of people nodded and muttered in agreement. I felt that one in my bones. A cigarette and a Dunkin’s dark brew with two creams and two sugars sounded like heaven.

Dr. Nelson thanked Jeff for his honesty and was about to dismiss us when the door to the common room burst open. Dr. Waters stormed in, face white as a sheet, and waved Dr. Nelson over with a quick, urgent motion. Nelson’s expression changed instantly. He looked worried. He walked over fast and the two of them stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind them.

The room exploded.

“What the fuck was that?” Randy said.

Kyle leaned forward. “Did you see Nelson’s face?”

Emily crossed her arms. “Something’s wrong.”

Chester muttered, “Great. Now the white coats are hiding even more shit from us.”

Lynette shook her head. “Old kook is right… darkness is coming for us.”

Which prompted Walter to shoot up from his chair, eyes wild. “This is the beginning of the end! The signs are here! Repent before the darkness swallows you all!”

Randy groaned. “Oh shut the fuck up with that crazy shit, old man.”

A couple other people muttered in agreement. Walter sat back down, still muttering under his breath. The whole circle was talking at once, everyone wondering what the hell was going on.

I just sat there, stomach in knots. I still don’t know what the fuck is happening. Maybe Dr. Nelson’s grandson fell off his skateboard or some stupid shit and we’re all just paranoid for nothing.

The rest of the day dragged like a bad hangover.

I didn’t stick around the common room much. I took a quick shower, let the hot water run over me for the full five minutes then waited two minutes for it to come back on and did it again. After that I headed straight to my room. I was too fucking drained to care what anyone else was doing.

I lay down on the cot and stared at the ceiling. Every little noise in the hallway made me tense up. Footsteps. A door closing. Voices too quiet to make out.

It reminded me of being a kid again. Dad would slip out late at night, telling Mom he was “going to handle some business.” She’d just sit in the living room with her vodka, staring at the TV like a zombie. I’d lay in my bed scared shitless, knowing “business” meant he was going out to put someone in the ground. I’d stay awake for hours waiting for him to come back, wondering if this time he wouldn’t.

That’s exactly how I feel right now.

This place is starting to fall apart already.

And I’m starting to think none of us are getting out of here the same way we came in.

Or at all.
​
—Jake

NEXT ENTRY

If this chapter hooked you, feel free to share it:

□ Facebook □ X □ Reddit