“I wake up every morning the same way, with my vision frustratingly blurred and my whole body wet. I must be a goldfish. I swim so slowly I must be an expensive fish. I cannot see my whole body, but if I turn the right way, I can feel the tips of my fins against my round sides.
After I wake up, I hear and feel the vibrations of the million-tentacled creature who lives where my bowl rests. I make sure to spread my fins as it pauses in front of my bowl. I am convinced this is why it feeds me.”
Subject 339’s thoughts are complex enough to form short sentences. It seems to hold some traces of its original form, if only in the way that it formulates its thoughts.
To study the data, consult the electrometer, the code to deciphering what it reads is taped to it.
Its body is slow to change, most of the features still appear to be human, though more scales are growing across the skin. It is mostly tan, though the scales it is growing are a mix of white and yellow. Due to hair color? Subject 339’s hair was blonde…
“It dips only a few of its tentacles in my bowl and I make sure to clean them of any traces of fish food.”
Subject 339 is voracious, a delight to feed. Its lips are still loose enough to wrap around fingers without any teeth.
“I like the days when the creature hangs around my bowl the best. It leaves the flashing lights on while it is home and I like to hear the music even though it’s muffled by the water and the sound of my very powerful filter. Goldfish, contrary to popular belief, need good filters to keep their water sweet and healthy. My water is always sweet and healthy. It never burns, not since the tentacle creature brought me to my bowl.”
Subject 339 appears to enjoy the television. It follows some visual stimulus outside of the it, but the television seems to be a vestigial joy.
“It stares at me often, making noises with its mouth. I have tried to make noises back, but I don’t think it can hear me through the water.
I dislike the days when I am placed in a smaller bowl. I cannot swim in that bowl anymore. It is the soft bowl I was in before the tentacle creature put me in my favorite bowl. When I am in the soft bowl, time moves differently. It is always dark, and the water in this bowl burns very quickly. It hurts my eyes and it hurts my mouth.
There used to be another goldfish, a white one with very long fins, that I would see in passing, but could never speak to. It made noises, but they were so quiet through the bowls and I was still getting used to using my fins. I still had a tube, then, and I was always tired.”
Subject 339 seems to be experiencing short periods of extended memory recovery. The data suggests that it can recall parts of its recovery period. It also remembers Subject 321, though it does not have any thought of its former neighbor past simple recognition.
Most of its bare flesh has been covered by healthy, average scales. Subject 339 has two black scales over each eye, giving the rather humorous illusion of eyebrows. Its fins are longer, and it seems to be swimming better, it may be time to move it to a larger aquarium with the other successful subjects?
“But then I am in my bowl again and everything is sweet and healthy and the tentacled one has placed food on a stick in the pebbles of my bowl. This food is delicious, different than my every day food. I have to use my small teeth to nibble pieces off. It tastes like nothing else.
I have to finish it all or the tentacles will come down and take it back. When it takes the food away, I do not get to eat more. Not until the next dark.”
Subject 339 prefers blanched meat to blanched vegetables. It seems to recognize its caretaker. The subject is covered entirely in scales. Its hair has started to fall out except for one thin strip down the middle, almost like a dorsal fin.
“I sleep very well at night. I remember long nights stayed awake, when the tentacles would forget to turn the light off my bulb. It remembers every night now. I remember long nights awake before my bowl, too, when I still had tentacles of my own. I remember wet on my face but nowhere else.”
Subject 339 actively recalls life before the experiment, though it appears to be losing cognitive function. Reading the results of the electrometer is getting more and more difficult. Each thought is sporadic and unconnected to the others.
Its eyes have lost their human coloration. The subject blinks less than four times per hour, and its eyelids seem to be receding.
“I am always wet now, and I am very expensive. I must be a beautiful goldfish, to move so slowly, and yet to be cared for so well. I hardly ever miss my tentacles. The tentacled one takes such good care of me. I wish I could see it clearly, but everything is so, so blurry underwater.
Every once in a while, the tentacled one pulls me out of the tank by my topmost fin. I can hear so clearly up here that it doesn’t matter that its tentacles pulling my fin hurts. It hurts more that I cannot breathe. It hurts worst that it is very loud outside of the water, the creature is. This is how it tells me it cares. I don’t understand the noises it makes anymore, but it never sounds bad, even though it is always loud and sometimes my fin starts to tear from its shaking.
I am always returned to my bowl. It always feeds me. I am always sweet and healthy. I am a good fish. I am a grateful fish. I am a goldfish.”
Subject 339 is retired. It has resigned to its new life. All attempts at reviving the experiment have failed. The subject is still not showing any signs of aging, but all currents being read by the electrometer are blank and without meaning.
It grows more orange throughout the day. Bony protrusions are forming just below the nose. The beginning of barbels, perhaps?
These notes were found in the home of one disgraced Dr. Eric Ermine dated July 16th, 1988. Also found in his home were over 250 live koi in three 200-gallon tanks, six human embryos in various stages of growth, one fetus with various severe limb deformities and three other fetuses with mild to severe facial deformities, over 400 frozen, dead koi, of those 400 fish 60 seemed severely deformed and mutated and fifteen adult human bodies with their heads, lungs and several bones removed. There were extensive notes, detailing the continuation of the experiment he had started while he was working at [REDACTED] University.
And me? Well, I know no one is gonna believe this dumb shit! I might as well get free internet points. I’m almost at 3k karma, you know. This was in my dad’s old box of journalism stuff. I hope he doesn’t care that I posted it but come on, this is too crazy even for me.