Have you ever wondered what happens after you die? I would bet many of you have, I’d even bet some amount of money since it doesn’t matter anyways.
What I’m attempting to get to is I found out, it has been my goal since I was a little boy to find what happened after I would die, later in my life I did many things I deemed unnecessary until I started with science.
Many, if not all deemed my methods unstable, unethical. I, however didn’t care. The cost for knowledge is something that can’t be reached, so I had to move to across the world from my town in Ohio to a country that would allow my research though i won’t name it here.
I did many experiments leading to the bettering of humanity if they would listen to me! I saw the effects of a child raised with no contact from anyone, I saw what odd drugs did to dogs and people and many, many more.
But it all led to the key months of finding what would happen, I was in my small lab made of brick and clay soft dust sprinkling every surface, I scooted through trash and random metal pieces to a splintered wooden desk with a large metal machine pressing all its weight onto my poor table.
From a bent, rusty cabinet I pulled files I admittedly stole from others through my journey through many North American and European countries, I canned through rubbing the dust off of the small plastic tags to look at the names settling on one named ‘plan de la machine de la mort’ I got it from France roughly translating to a death machine blueprint.
To my knowledge it was a machine that was supposed to track when one really died, but it failed and they never managed to get it to work. It was a similar machine to the one I had in front of me with screws jamming a out and jagged metal covered in dust.
Hopefully I would be able to piece it together with all the many papers I had and the many years I have dedicated to this. One of the three papers was labeled ‘what happens after death?’ I got from Wales long ago. Lastly, I had one, possibly the hardest one for me to get my hands on though most of them were easy because they yielded not many results alone, they were just puzzle pieces.
Anyways, the last on was ‘Moskva, snova zhizn’ which translates to ‘Moscow, life again’ then again, I wouldn’t know very well, in each of the files every last word was in the native tongue then a few others, English, Arabic, Chinese and oddly Uzbek to name a few.
These papers were thick, lengthy not only because each file had multiple copies in the different tongues but because originally, they were long to begin with.
After a few years at least of testing, getting the power needed and building it was time for another test. This machine was not designed to tell if one was dead by definition, i could tell when someone was dead by classical definition but i wanted to find out when someone’s soul left their body.
To make sure it didn’t just malfunction I needed to make something just as complicated, a computer that if someone wanted to, they could transmit words to the computer through their mind. It was like connecting to their soul to talk through a computer.
The discoveries I’ve made just to build it, I have used ingredients nobody could imagine using for science, unethical things and hidden things.
But it worked, I connected the metal strap to my arm thinking, on the computer the words of my mind appeared on the otherwise black screen with a bold automated voice announcing it through the room.
It was ready, fifty years of work leading up to this. I had three people sign up for the experiment, they each connected the metal bands around their wrists while I made sure everything was right.
I handed each a cup of cold water moving around in the glass, earlier I placed three dissolving pills into the glass.
I won’t say why they agreed, but they agreed and knew what would happen. They drank sharing thoughts through the computers for five minutes until they slowed, they spoke openly with slurred speech moving their hands slowly until it stopped.
The computers stopped, their pulses had stopped and for five more minutes there was nothing. I drank a cup of cold water scooping out my old ravioli waiting and almost begging for anything to happen.
Then it did, while o checked the bodies the sun starting to go down only lighten up by candles the robotic voice boomed.
“Where am I?” I turned; the souls were still there. Now I could finally see how long the soil truly took to leave.
“I can’t see, help me. The pain” the voice spoke with no amount of emotion as it was made to do.
“Where are you?” I spoke close to the body, if my study of the body was correct the ears were still functional for however much longer.
“My body, the pain” I grabbed my notebook writing notes down.
Suddenly screams erupted from the computer, in the same voice of robot but was clearly intended to be screams.
“Aaaaaahhhh!”
The screams didn’t stop, at one day it grew more silent and they couldn’t here me anymore, at one week they had been talking and yelling about the pain.
At six weeks the bodies began to decompose but the bodies spoke, they begged to die but they were already dead and they couldn’t hear me. The voices, the cursed voices! They wouldn’t stop!
I may have experimented seeing what part of the body the soul resided in but they continued. Six weeks and the souls were here.
I quickly disconnected the bodies hauling them in a large black bag to my basement throwing them in, I grabbed another bag dragging it out and desperately cutting it with my cold knife, I pulled the skeleton that was dead for two years pulling the arm up and connecting it.
Within minutes terrified screeches played from the machine begging the pain to stop, there was no life in the skeleton but it resided. It didn’t die when it died, it stayed alive living in the bones screaming.
“I can’t move! Help me! Stop the pain! Anything! Why can’t I see?” It seemed all senses were gone except for whatever kept them alive.
“Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it stop!” I had no choose to oblige stomping the body breaking the bones with horrid snaps echoing the halls, but even after those words of begging left the machine to my ears.
“Just let me die!” The voice screamed; I pulled it away from the arm stopping the screaming. My deepest hope was that the machine failed, but attaching it to my arm it worked just fine. And I collapsed.
I fell to the ground; I didn’t know what to do. To pray or hope my days would last longer or that somewhere I failed but deep down i knee I hadn’t.
So, I curled up and sobbed, tears drained my eyes falling to the ground where I slept, does the FBI know? Does anyone know? I hadn’t a clue, only a fear.