Experiment 21

31: Momento Mori

Log Date 1570: This isn't something I can keep ignoring. Now that the plans been disrupted I'm.. I'm not sure if I can even keep this going. It's either they die or I do at this point. Dying.. that's what this about. That's what this has always been about.. hasn't it? Ha-

Test Tube's P.O.V

I stared blankly at the keys of my computer as I paused at the log date. The space on the screen continued to blink, tempting me to continue writing. Mocking me. I had so much more to say, so much more to scream, but I just.. couldn't. This was for researches sake, not some personal diary. But it felt like it. It felt so heart achingly personal. All of this felt like if it were jeopardized, I would just collapse. I've worked so hard to have all of this succeed and now look at it. Everything's going up in the flames despite having survived at least three literal fires. Three.. fires..

I winced and put a hand up to the side of my face as another flash of their fate ran through my sight. Nonsense. That's all it was. They died for the experiment and that's it. All of this guilt and nagging feeling is merely just nonsense. It wasn't my fault. They weren't listening. None of this is my fault. But.. if it's not mine.. then who exactly do I have to blame for this..?

I hesitantly glanced back at the screen, before pushing away from my desk in frustration. There were such better things I could be doing right now then philosophy. Which while equally interesting, not what I needed to do right now. What I needed to do right now was write that letter. I quickly squeezed my eyes shut to try and avoid seeing them again, but that just made it worse. Their blood spreading across the floor as I dragged them to the vault with others. Their organs dragging and scraping across the floor. The betrayed dull look on their face. I gasped as I opened my eyes again, gripping the edge of the armrests on my chair quietly as I looked back through the viewing window. I'll write it later. Not like anyone actually sits and waits for them to arrive.

1 and 3 just sat there talking to each other. That's right. The room shouldn't be empty, you moved them last week. God.. was it last week..? I can't even remember at this point. All I care about this point is surviving. That's the goal. The entire point, to survive. To see how someone reacts to certain experiences. Even death. This wasn't just about death, it's about how someone feels. That's right. The brain, the most interesting cognitive tool we could've ever been blessed with. Blessing.. ha. Sure. Like I want to keep remembering that scene over and over again.. like I want to worry about what's going to happen to me after this. What even is.. after this. The end. Getting caught? Loosing passion for the project and releasing them? No, that's stupid.. Death? If so.. who's? Mine? Them? What was I even going to ask them today?

My vision blurred as I began to zone out, thinking of a question that would cause both an interesting reaction to write down and one that would be individualistic enough to get different answers. I didn't hear silence.. just an echoed tapping, scraping, screaming, crying, all dull and quiet. Like it was happening in the room and I just.. wasn't listening. I blinked for awhile to refocus my eyes before going back over to my desk through the swivel chair, quietly staring down at microphone with bitter hesitance. I didn't even have anything to ask them.. why was I over here..? Why am I running out of purpose because of the lack of them..? There's only two of them after all.. I said I'd end the experiment whenever everyone was dead or I had died first. Just like how any good experiment should end. A scientist never quits in the face of refusal, or anything. I am a scientist. A scientist does not quit. I am a scientist. I am a scientist. I am a scientist. 

I am a murderer.

In the middle of my mantra that phrase sat, disrupting ever single clear thought I had even come close to having. Why am I asking so many questions..? You know what, that's not important, and even more so a rhetorical question. Or an oxymoron.. the point is it's not important and not where my focus should be. None of this is my fault. None of what happened to them is my fault, they agreed to come here. They agreed to give everything up. Everything meant their lives as well.. even if they didn't know that yet. Even if I didn't know that yet. Sure it's a pleasure to watch.. but it's not like you just plan to kill people. If I had planned that I would've done this to so many more people already..