A new clinical drug is being developed called Miserationem. If your Doctor attempts to begin a procedure that utilizes Miserationem, stop them immediately.
Miserationem’s whole function is to create a sympathetic link between the Doctor and the Patient. It exploits a gene-editing tool known as CRISPR/Cas9.
This medication is the first of its kind to be prescribed to the Doctor rather than the Patient.
The goal of Miserationem is to create a temporary empathetic response within the Doctor that will let him better diagnose an illness or injury within a Patient.
Miserationem alters the user’s genes to make them extremely prone to Acute Pain Transfusions via a sublingual transfer of blood.
A minor dose of a Patient’s blood can cause a 30 second reaction within the Medical Professional. That will give them enough time to understand the severity of a Patient’s ailment.
In essence, Miserationem will help create a phantom link between the Doctor and you.
The issue is that we weren’t meant to completely understand each other’s physical natures. Each of us carries within us our own burdens. And our burdens are often not compatible nor comparable with each others.
The following is my story with Miserationem.
I was involved with a clinical trial of Miserationem in February of this year. There were three of us involved with the initial run.
Doctor John Williamson, Connor Stevens and myself, Avery Moore.
Both Connor and I were only participants of the project. We had no hand in its development.
The trial was part of a medical college credit elective course but otherwise had no bearing on our lives. We were both attempting to get into the Medical Field at that time.
February 3rd was our first wet run of the procedure. By this time Dr. Williamson had been taking Miserationem for several weeks and showed no ill side effects from it. Initially things looked promising.
The first test was simple. Dr. Williamson would wait in a separate room out of view from Connor and Myself. I would then issue a harmless intramuscular shot to Connor in any location of my choosing. The shot would create a minor pain within Connor that Dr. Williamson would then attempt to identify.
So I gave him the injection on his exterior left quad.
Dr. Williamson had then stepped into the lab, extracted a minor amount of blood from Connor and utilized the syringe plunger to coat the bottom of his tongue.
Dr. Williamson was immediately able to identify not just the location of the injection, but also the intensity of the pain and the delivery method that was utilized for the shot.
The next several tests revolved around Dr. Williamson and Connor identifying several different pain application points.
With the success of the project so far, Dr. Williamson had also begun placing Connor and I both on Miserationem. The goal was now to see if all those involved in the project were equally susceptible to the drug.
A few weeks passed by and phase two of the trials had started.
It was now my turn to attempt to identify a superficial pain. This time I wouldn’t be told if it was Dr. Williamson or Connor that had been injected. I would have to ‘feel’ the pains and be able to judge whether it came from a healthy younger man, Connor, or a man more senior than us, Dr. Williamson.
When I stepped inside the room I saw a 1ml vial of blood sitting on a metal portable tray. Both Dr. Williamson and Connor were smiling at me. I was unable to tell who was injured or where the injection was made just based on looks alone.
So, without a second thought, I sublingually ingested the vial of liquid under my tongue.
Almost instantaneously I felt a sharp pain flooding into my body.
It felt like fire had coated every ounce of my person. Through my blurred vision I could see intense bubbling hives running up across my body. My veins pulsated and expanded inside of me, just under my skin. My vision had become white and I couldn’t catch my breath.
At that point I blacked out. According to Dr. Williamson I had fallen to the floor completely unconscious.
When I eventually woke up I was in an Emergency Room with both of my partners. The medical staff couldn’t identify anything physically wrong with me. The pain that I had felt was completely mentally induced.
After that incident I had refused to take part in the experiment again. At least as a taster.
Dr. Williamson had convinced me to come back strictly as a donor. I was reluctant at first but the Doctor was good with his words and a genuinely decent man. I felt obligated to finish the trial run at the very least.
For a while I played the assistant role again. Taking blood samples out of Dr. Williamson and Connor and providing injections when needed.
One night I got a little tipsy while out with friends and fell down some stairs. I had severe pain in my legs and lower back. It wasn’t my proudest moment but I’m just trying to be honest with you.
I called Dr. Williamson to tell him I wouldn’t be able to make it into testing that day. But Dr. Williamson thought it would be a perfect opportunity to do an actual field run of the Miserationem reaction.
So he conducted a house visit and came over to my little apartment.
I was pretty much bed-ridden at this point so I thought the company would be nice to have.
The Doctor conducted the routine procedure of extracting my blood into a syringe. And with one push of the plunger took the red liquid into his mouth.
The next 30 seconds were the most frightening moments of my life.
As soon as the blood pooled underneath the Doctor’s tongue, the Doctor had dropped his arms. His pupils constricted into almost imperceptible pin pricks of black dots. His body had completely relaxed.
And for those 30 seconds he just sat there, staring blankly at my bedroom wall.
About 20 seconds into the trial his lips had begun twitching. At 25 seconds in they had formed into a smile. And 30 seconds in his pupils had completely returned to him.
Accept they weren’t normal. They had dilated several times larger than their usual shape. I couldn’t see his irises at all and could barely make out the whites of his eyes.
He looked down at me with absolute addiction.
And the next words out of his mouth will haunt me for the rest of my life.
“Avery, you don’t know what pain is, do you?”
When he reached back towards the syringe on the table every ounce of my being told me to ‘run’.
I fought through the pain in my legs.
I swung myself over my bed and ran towards my window. The syringe the Doctor had grabbed hurled its way towards me. His fist tightly wrapped around it. He ripped out a chunk out of the back of my tricep and I felt a hot warmth erupt down my arm.
I turned around to see the Doctor standing over the small puddle of blood on the floor with absolute, uncontrollable desire. He dropped down to his hands and knees and began lapping up the blood like a thirsty dog. His pupils had immediately constricted into another manic craze.
I used those next 30 seconds to open up a window and leapt out. Every instinct inside of my body had begged me to run as far away as I could.
So I did.
By the time I got to a neighbor’s house that had actually opened up their door for me I was in an absolute panic.
They had taken me inside and called the Police immediately.
By the time they arrived Dr. Williamson had gone missing.
The Miserationem had taken its full effect by that point. Dr. Williamson had completely given into whatever it had done to him.
To be honest, since that night I haven’t felt safe going back home. I’m staying with my parents a few towns away right now. They know about everything.
The reason I’m writing this is because I’m watching the news right now. They’re talking about some missing persons in my area. The first to disappear was Connor.
Did Dr. Williamson take him? Did the same thing happen to Connor? Is he okay?
I don’t know. And I’m scared that I don’t know.
Listen, please, just don’t let a Doctor try the Miserationem procedure with you. I don’t want whatever is happening to spread to any more people.