Don't Go to Sleep: A Re-telling of "The Russian Sleep Experiment"

II

October 2nd, 1984 - A Report from an Unnamed Assistant to Benson Richards

Report from Staten Island, Assistant to Richards, Benson Codename: B2. 09-02-1984

Benson has fully set up his research station. We are now awaiting the individual presences of Dan W, Seth X, Tom S, Jack T, and Gerry D*. Arrivals are expected to come on 09-03-1984 at 10:04:00 am (STD). Awaiting your arrival.

(* - fake names are given to test subjects in order protect identity)

Two days. Two days of tension and fear. They were now in full working operation at the Seaview Hospital on Staten Island. John was a militarized medical attendant along with two other unnamed assistants of Mr. Richards.

Jordan was chief medical officer. She was in charge of the patients well-being. When she inquired Benson on who these people were, he only smiled and then gravely instructed her to get back to work.

Tim was in charge of the microphone. It was set up across the room on a table that had a bunch of other switches and dials on it. It also had a big main speaker so they had the ability to listen in on their conversations and so they could generally communicate with the prisoners more effectively.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Benson sat in his office on the third floor. His was a nice shade of grey and was kept very clean and tidy. He had a large leather recliner stationed behind a eight-drawer oak wood desk. He also had a closet full of some spare lab coats. Included as well was a mini-lab work space; the countertop to this station had a few random test tubes standing up holding some unusual liquids.

Jordan had finished making the cell a bit more cozy when she heard some insane laughter coming from above. She jumped at the sounds and stood in silence for a bit, deciding whether or not she should go investigate. She finally came to the conclusion that she must.

Upon arriving to Benson's office, she noticed the door wide open, which he never usually left open. She poked her head around the corner, peering into the unsettling office. Benson was leaning back in his chair, holding a rotting human skull in his right hand, carefully examining the artifact. "Come in," he beckoned upon noticing her curious mood. She cautiously entered, taking a seat on the ground. Benson peered into the skulls eye sockets. "Hamlet," Jordan began, "to be or not to be. That is the question. Act 4, scene something I believe." Benson turned and looked at her. "With this final experiment of mine, the mystery to sleep will be uncovered." Jordan looked at him, dead in the eyes. "What exactly is going to happen?"

"Does it matter?" he replied

"In many ways, yes."

"How so?"

"These people...their lives are changed forever by this," Jordan explained. "Once they're ensnared by your devious trap, no escape." Mr. Richard's looked unamused. Jordan stood up aggressively. "These people have lives!" she yelled. Benson screamed angrily. "Do you have any idea how many years of dedication and approval, silent approval, this took? I am not turning around ever again! Am I crystal clear, young lady?"

Jordan stood there, still fuming with anger. She decided she had the nerve to ask one last question. "What is this stimulant made out of?" Benson snickered. "Well, would you like to find out yourself? Experience no sleep? No darkness? Stimulating the effects the human body has on our minds is the greatest leap forward in science...I would say...ever." Jordan shook her head somberly. This guy was completely insane. "We, physiologically and psychologically, thrive on sleep. Taking that away would be killing us. Slowly but surely, we dissolve." Benson looked at her.

"This is your nation? A bundle of metaphysicians who have beautiful visions of the future and ideas of humanity at its purest. This, I am telling you now, is wrong. Your nation is dying. I predict its imminent destruction very soon. Can you save yourself? I think not. Basing your ideas of humanity and love on the principle of death is contradicting in and of itself. Sleep, yes, is necessary, but can you survive without it? That's what this experiment is all about. Not so much if you physically can survive without a wink of darkness, but more if your mental well being can handle it. Making you stronger."

Suddenly, John burst into the room. He had a look of anticipation in his eyes. "The test subjects Mr. Richards, they're here. Benson, they're angry..." Benson laughed. "As I expected. Jordan, to your station. Be prepared to comfort our guests."

John and Benson rushed downstairs, leaving Jordan questioning her thoughts and Benson's as well.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Ah, my specimens all lined up in a row." Benson laughed. "This is treason," Jack, a blonde-haired middle aged Russian stated. Benson peered into the glass eyeholes of his gas mask that was covering his face. "Jack, you could always make me laugh." The tall, black haired man at the end snickered. "Your face breaks each time, Jack," Gerry, a 23-year-old American with wavy brown hair, scoffed. He stood upright and proud next to Jack. Benson giggled. "Where's your head?" Dan, a 30-year-old theater attendant said poetically. Benson rolled his eyes and walked down toward Tom and Seth at the end. They were both twins in their mid twenties and worked at a gas station in central New York. "Nothing to say?" Benson inquired. Seth, the one at the end of this line, piped up. "There's nothing to say Benson. We all know you have to have revenge on your agenda. That's what this all is really about. I can tell by the look in your eyes."

John looked at them all. He could tell that they were extremely angry with Mr. Richards. He only wished he knew more. But, he knew, if he even asked a simple question, Benson would fly off the handle and maybe throw him in with the subjects.

"So," Benson began, speaking to the prisoners, "a test for you: If you can all stay in a single room for a little over two weeks...you will receive the greatest freedom of all." Seth looked anxious. "What exactly is the reward?" Benson smiled.

"You get to live."