Dead but Alive

I still failed to find a job. Sometimes, I just think I failed in life. No girlfriend, no children, no friends, no job, no money, no nothing. All of these show that I have nothing else to do in life. Just like any other broke 23 year old unemployed man would, I was desperately looking for a job. It didn't have to be high paying job. As long as I had a job, I was satisfied.

As normal, there was a big patch of newspaper, and as normal, I put it on the counter, planning on not reading it. However, something caught my eye. It read: "SEARCHING FOR VOLUNTEERS FOR HUMANITARIAN MISSION".

I immediately opened it up and found out they offered a whopping $4500 dollars for anyone who volunteered, so I did. I opened up my computer and entered my email to sign up.

I made myself a coffee and sat on the small porch. That's when I heard a high pitch ding on my phone. It was an email from the company that organized the mission.

The email had no title, but the description said that a black car filled with people was coming in just two hours. I hopped onto the shower and changed my clothes before eating a small snack and getting into the van.

Inside, there were 7 other people. All around my age, from 20 to 35. On the way, we introduced ourselves and lit up a positive mood before what seemed to be an intense day.

The van finally stopped and we stepped out of the van. Which changed everything.

What I expected to be a hospital looked more like a jail. Armed guards. Thick steel doors. No sign of civilians — only muffled cries that leaked through the vents like smoke.

I asked questions but only got silence in return. The guards only looked straight out into what seemed like nothingness, stretching out for miles.

We were put into a small room, told to wait for a few minutes. Awkward in the room, I tried starting a conversation, but no one else responded. They were all as shocked as I was.

Hours went by and nothing happened. Occasionally, we could hear banging and faint screaming in the room. It was unexpected every single time.

I decided I had enough and got out of the room. I slipped past a few guards while they were distracted and opened a door to what seemed like a restricted area.

Children. There were children. Strapped to tables. There was tubes in their arms, their veins lit blue.

One of them, a boy, not even 10 years old, looked at my straight in the eye. His eyes were red, filled with tears. As soon as we locked eyes, he let out a faint scream.

I ran out of the room before one of the guards could see me, terrified of what I just saw.

I kept repeating in the same voice. 'This isn't what I signed up for'

This was not a humanitarian mission. It was the complete opposite.

Rushing into the room, everybody jolted up from their half-awake state and asked where I went.

"This isn't what we signed up for"

Confused, they stared into my eyes. Just like the kid. "They are using kids and doing experiments or something using them. I think we might be part of it too"

They didn't believe me and told me to sit back down and just wait. Wait for what? Us being stripped away from the outside world even more than we already are? The kids being used as test subjects? As slaves? As who know what?

I would never let that slide. Never.

I tried grabbing people to go with me but it was too late.

The loud buzz came again. A hiss. The door locked behind me. A cold female voice echoed over the intercom.

"Test Group D, remain calm. Extraction in progress"

Suddenly, white gas hissed out from the ceiling vents.

Panic erupted. Screaming. Coughing. People clawed at the walls.

The teenager was the first to drop. Then two others collapsed like dolls.

I held my breath and dove under the table. The gas didn’t touch me there, at least not at first. I waited, lungs burning, until the room fell silent.

Ten minutes later, the door creaked open. Two men in hazmat suits stepped in. They checked pulses. Nodded. One spoke:

"Group D is ready. One anomaly detected."

It was me.

They didn’t drag me. They just looked at me and smiled blankly.

"He’s stronger than we thought," one said.

I woke up in a completely different room. No lights. No time. No nothing.

I realized the situation that I was in. The situation that I was trapped in. Maybe for days, for months, for years, or maybe decades.

Everyday passed slowly. I had to be examined by someone every 3 hours. I tried sleeping but everything distracted me.

Weeks passed, now months.

They fed me enough to live, not enough to think clearly. My arms were covered in small puncture marks. My muscles trembled on their own

One night, I noticed the door was left slightly open.

It was bait. I knew that. But I didn’t care anymore.

I staggered out, barefoot, dragging my long white hospital gown behind me. I only glanced at each room.

That's when I stumbled upon a group of people. My group. Group D. They were strapped to wooden chairs, red veiny eyes wide open. They looked dead but was not. The monitor indicated it. It kept beeping. Slowly but steadily.

They were kept. Not for their survival but for study.

I dropped to my knees. My stomach turned. But I didn’t scream. I couldn’t.

That's when I noticed something bright blue shining at the corner of my eye. I turned my head slowly to my left, only to see my veins blue. Glowing slowly. It matched the heart beats of my team. The team that was once talkative, fruitful, almost happy. A team that was alive.

I sit here now, in a dark room. I obey what they tell me to do. I do it and don't resist. They say that I am progressing. Evolving.

They call me subject zero.

They say I am lucky.

But I know the truth.

I am not lucky. I am not alive.

Every time I close my eyes to try to get a few minutes of sleep, the same advertisement keeps screaming at me.

It read: "SEARCHING FOR VOLUNTEERS FOR HUMANITARIAN MISSION".

$4500?

I laugh.

Then cry.

Then whisper into the darkness:

"I didn't sign up for this"