Author : Ben ‘Inorian’ Le Chevalier

Insanity. That’s the first thing I thought when they told me about the project. Insanity.

I felt a sharp shock, followed by pain at the back of my head.

Well, there goes another one. Another one of the thousands they have taken from me, but it doesn’t matter to me anymore. That was strange. Once, it had mattered, now it didn’t. The tank seemed to dull all feeling. Of course it was supposed to, physically. Perhaps the matter does affect the mind, after a time.

I was one of the few. We were all selected because we had the right type of brain, the right mental architecture, the right-

Another shock. Another pain. Another one gone. I must be on top form today. I wonder what they do with them all…come to that, I wonder what they contain. Some, I’m certain, must be for the betterment of mankind. Others, the ones I worry about, the ones that keep me from tranquillity, they must be the opposite. They must be the destructive ones, the painful ones.

They’re probably the ones that hurt more, but who can tell?

I’ve been in the tank for near on five years now.

For near five years I’ve been having ideas formulated in my mind, then being brutally ripped away without me ever seeing the shape of them.

I laughed when they told me about the ‘think tank’. I laughed because I thought they had misunderstood the term. It had turned out that they had simply taken it further.

My ideas are no longer mine…my body is not mine, the only thing I have is my-

Another shock. Another pain.

Another one gone.

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