Carol and Ray are watching me. I know they are. They didn’t say so but the form they made me sign said ‘controlled experiment’. And they call me the psychopath. At least I never locked anyone up in a house so I could watch what he does with a fake girlfriend. Maybe I will when I get out. Sounds like fun. Last man standing wins his freedom.
Although for me to win my freedom we both have to be left standing. They have baited me with this virtual woman who looks and smells and tastes so real but if I enjoy her, they won’t let me out.
“Neural remodelling,” Carol said. “So your brain learns to control your urges.”
Here I sit, with these little pills that hide me from myself but the pills themselves are hidden now you see and so I can see and what I see is her. ‘Alex’. Delicious. They made her look old and plain but I see inside her, I see what’s really there. The pale pink brain. So soft, so easy to damage. You poke it once and it becomes mush. Is that really my fault? And the deeper pinks of her heart, her lungs, her liver. Alex is every shade of pink and each tastes different. How is that possible? Try it, you’ll see I’m right.
I wait until she falls asleep then I lie down beside her. I run my finger down her neck, her collarbone. I feel her pulse thump against my finger as I breathe her in, salty and musky and sour and sweet. And then I bite into the neck tearing the flesh burying my face in the blood the salt the metal glistening pink and red and beautiful.
And a terrible noise fills my head, a high-pitched squeal and I can’t see, I can’t hear anything and Alex disappears, vanishes from the bed. The blood, the taste, the smell all gone.
My stomach knots. Carol’s voice comes. Into my ear. Destroying my peace. “Let’s try that again.”
Yes Carol, let’s try that again.