NEW YORK, USA
2029
There was a bright light. A blindingly bright light.
And then there was pain.
Chance Parnell screamed. He cried. He sobbed. He thrashed.
The pain was so so so great.
Then there was a burst of something strange.
Peace? No. Relief.
Then an overwhelming cacophony of sounds.
The scraping of someone’s shoes against marble tile. A hand shifting metal tools on a paper-lined tray. The harmony and melody of two people’s breathing.
Then it ended.
A cool hand rested on Chance’s forehead. There was whisper. Female. “You will be fine. You will be fine, you will be fine. Do not worry, young man, do not worry. The pain will all be worth it in the end.”
Not exactly reassuring words.
Then there was a new voice. It was a man’s and it was quiet but sure. “Excellent work on the brain, but it seems that our little friend is awake. Bring him under.”
A saccharine smell entered his lungs. Chance’s eyelids drooped and clamped shut. But he stayed conscious.
He tried to open his eyes, his mouth, move his fingers, anything, but his body wasn’t responding.
The voices continued to speak, but they sounded so far away.
“Why don’t we start with the fat. Strip that away then add the bulk before the skin resets.”
“A clean slate?” The female voice.
“Yes, a clean slate. Hand me a marker.”
The pop as a lid came off then slight pressure on Chance’s left arm. It felt like fingers.
“He consumed quite a bit of junk food, didn’t he?” The male voice. He chuckled. There was a cold, almost liquidy feeling along his arm. “I’ll give you the blueprint then you can attend to the rest by yourself. Subject 84 is becoming restless.”
“Yes, doctor.”
More cold slippery feeling along his arm, then the next one. The liquid went all around his body until finally, it stopped. Another pop as the lid was replaced onto the marker head, then steps fading away. The whoosh of a door opening and closing. And then tinny sounds of small metallic objects rustling along a paper-lined tray.
“This might hurt a bit.” The voice- female- was right next to his ear. It was soft and sounded almost like a hiss. It was so quiet that the words might not have even been said. But Chance knew they had been. “And it will be so much worse if you don’t behave. But don’t worry.
“The pain will be all worth it in the end.”
YOU ARE READING
Ameliora
Sciencefiction"The masked creatures slithered out of the sewers at dawn, the second day of January, just like they always did. They couldn’t be called people. They all had similar cold black eyes and pale white skin despite ethnicity. They were all tall and well...
