Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25155011-20140708184838

Good day everyone, this is my first attempt at a Pasta. It is a science fiction story I came up for a Creative Writing Challenge for ScrewAttack and after reading Ben Drowned and Jeff the Killer I decided to share it here. It was both my first attempt at speed writing for I had only 3 days to write it due to life issues and at science fiction, for I am more of an epic-fantasy fan.

In any case, I hope you enjoy it.

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'''The Project '''



   '''Researcher’s Log – 04/18 '''

   It all began as I sat down before the monitor, I did not know where to begin or if it was really possible to complete the assignment given to us…

   We know that a human body can be created out of the most basic elements, and the function of the organs can be activated by some electric jolts with no problem; yet the issue of what is needed to FILL the body has always remained; what some call the SOUL…

   Doctor Armstrong, Head Researcher, charged us with proving the last of his theories… Or disproving it…

   I have always thought there is something odd about him, but his reputation and results precede him. Until now, all his theories have proven effective, or useful at the very least, and he was the one who created the device needed for both creating a fully functional and customizable body and giving life to it… In the most basic sense of the term…

   There are rumors about him, but they will not be useful for the project.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   The theory we are now faced with is if the soul resides in the brain. Or, more accurately, in the information stored in the brain.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   We have been given an almost unlimited supply of empty bodies, ranging from young kids to full grown adults. It has always amazed me how perfect they look inside the formaldehyde containers.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I gave instructions to have one of the youngest bodies sent to my station. I could read every bit of information about it the moment it arrived, from his weight and height to the functions of all his organs; Numbers and graphs danced all around me as I tried to come up with how to begin…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   After several hours of idling about, I decided to start from the beginning and see what an empty vessel was capable of, because I had read somewhere that a part of the soul is the will… Can an empty vessel have a will?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Determined to find out, I tested the young body’s physical capabilities, making it run, jump, roll, pull, push and swim until its limits. After several hours went by and some organs began to give in, I realized the futility of my experiment. While it was obvious that the body possessed no will since it had no soul, it also showed that it had no self-preservation instincts and so would perform a given order until death, if commanded…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   With no further use of a damaged clone, I proceeded to do away with it and sent it to the furnace.

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<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   '''Researcher’s Log – 04/21 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It is marvellous how breakthroughs come about. The last 3 days have been filled with failed experiments like the first one and yet the last clone I disposed of, a full-grown female adult, gave me the clue as to where to go next… Emotion…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It happened after I researched the possibility of an empty body to reproduce, certainly all necessary organs and fluids are there… But if all human children are born with souls already present, there would be some point during conception or pregnancy when the soul is created… Unless the child’s soul is a fragment of the parents’, which would explain why the last children are the weakest.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   All pondering aside, I attempted to make the female body pregnant with some of the sperm we have stored for any given use. My theory was that the body would not even begin the process… But, lo and behold! The necessary fragmentation of the ovum began! The female, empty, worthless body I had before me would actually give birth in due time!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   My amazement was overwhelmed by the frustration of not being able to determine how it had been possible. It has been so long since I decided not to believe in something like things just happening “because they are meant to” and exhaust every possibility until the answer had been found. That determination was had landed me this job.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Of course, every time I reached a dead end, Doctor Armstrong would appear and show me the path… This time will be different, I will be the one succeeding.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I sent the pregnant body to the furnaces as these thoughts coursed through my mind. I had grown accustomed to the flashing of the several screens still monitoring the bodies as they burned; All nerves lighting up as the fire seared and consumed flesh, fat and muscle, blood pressure and heart rhythm accelerating beyond the normal limits, accompanied by sweating, coughing and finally spasms and convulsions just before the “life” was devoured by flame…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   But the readings were different this time… The body was different… SHE was different…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   There had not been important functions in the brain in the previous experiments, as I had theorized, but she… So many regions in her brain lit up furiously and the fire had not even caught; The very feeling of the temperature rising dangerously set her brain on edge.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Was she afraid? Certainly the correct parts of her brain activated, but I had already experimented with female bodies before… Could it be that the life that grew inside her made here somehow more… Alive… ?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   If only there was a way to accelerate the pregnancy process… I would love to see how a child born out of a soulless body would work…

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<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   '''Researcher’s Log – 04/25 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I moved away from useless endurance and raw power tests and moved into the dark, mainly unexplored recesses of the brain.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It is certainly a joy to have an endless supply of brains. It is no wonder, however, that no real breakthroughs have come out of experimenting on them; These are perfect brains, all genes that could cause any kind of illness, malfunction or disorder have been done away with.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I have tried my hand at reproducing disorders like OCD, schizophrenia or dementia before, but without the necessary faulty genes, the brain recognizes that something is wrong and corrects the error… But those were experiments of my youth, when I had high hopes for the medical sciences, none of that will help me here…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I must recognize that, during these past days, I have destroyed many brains or at least left them severely damaged. My experiments in inducing and, sometimes, forcing emotions have taken a heavy toll on several bodies…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Strangely enough, they are still able to follow commands, so I am now certain I was merely wasting my time. Still, nothing is entirely for naught, as I have rediscovered and redefined the parts of the brain that deal with any given emotion.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   The data from the pregnant woman has been most useful, for I have identified with absolute certainty what was going through her brain at the moment her body began to catch fire…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   She needed to protect her offspring…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   No other emotion was felt. No other hormone, chemical or synaptic process coursed through her brain or body. She was not concerned with her well-being, just like the previous test subjects, only the overwhelming desire to protect the child that was not even born…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It was not difficult to reproduce that feeling on other test subjects, once the correct spot had been found, and I marvelled at the reactions reflected in their bodies and the various differences between them; One would have thought that clones would react the same, but it is not so.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I even tested this once more with various of the youngest of bodies, in an attempt to determine if age had something to do with a more developed brain-body connection, but even kids reacted differently to the same stimuli.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   And so I stumbled upon another great question… Was it impossible to clone a brain? The answer, by logic, should be no, since every one of these bodies are created from the same elements and yet my discovery destroyed that logic… Here I had extensive data from countless bodies being subject to the same treatment and displaying vastly different results…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I feel this question will haunt me…

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<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">      '''Researcher’s Log – 05/01 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I received a visit from Doctor Armstrong a couple days ago. He just walked around my office, watered my plants until their leaves were bright green without even asking and left without giving so much as a glance to my progress… It was very irritating!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Then again, the “genius” is insane…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I set my anger aside and continued with my tests. I have now grown used to working with a young girl. I am now sure that the term “Gender Equality” will remain only as a dream, for males and females work so differently at the base brain level.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Her emotional responses are so strong and fixated. She does not ever display mixed emotions. As I introduce in her brain images of war and suffering, her immediate response is deep sadness, yet as her brain is stimulated in the part that controls anger, her sadness is forgotten and an unquenchable rage burns within her… Even her face twists and twitches…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I have taken great care of her, testing bits by bits and avoiding damaging the lobes too much. Her information has been valuable, yet I am unsure if it will help me with other subjects, now that I know their brains do not react the same…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Then again, my doubts are overwhelmed by pride as another discovery has been made; While soulless, the clones can display a certain amount of “endearment”.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I noticed this yesterday, as I came back into my office and saw the girl’s emotions flaring up. It was the region of the brain that takes charge of releasing relaxing hormones when one is close to an object of affection.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I felt a sudden stab of shame, as I remembered how many horrible things I have shown her, but I did not let it affect me; In the end, all we have exchanged are electric impulses and she is just one more of millions. If needed be, she can be recreated…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Now then, going back to work, if endearment can be developed, then hate, scorn and fear can also be created with the right stimuli. I may be no closer to discovering what the soul is, but I am closer to finding what it is NOT, and how much a personality can be altered.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I am amused!

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<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   '''Researcher’s Log – 05/15 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I have been suffering from a fever for the past week. Its cause: Malnourishment.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   My tests are absorbing my time and attention, there is nothing more important, feeding and bathing can be left for later. I have had nothing but success and the data to put everyone in the research team to shame.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Not one of the other researchers has even dared to take a step ahead from tests upon the body. Not one had even glimpsed at the idea of implanting emotions, let alone developing them.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I cannot help but feel a surge of pride as I see them scratching their heads!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I will not allow a simple fever to slow me down. It even helped me in my research, as my girl grew concerned for my well-being while a boy whose mind I pushed towards hate mocked my ill looking face. I could read all their emotions in my screens.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   And they were not the only ones, as I have developed specific feelings in several subjects. I have convinced a woman that I am the most attractive man alive and every time she sees me her libido skyrockets, while on the other hand I have implanted memories of a family’s murder into the brain of a violent man. He sees his family’s murderer in me, and spends his days banging on the crystal container, snarling and roaring at me…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I wish they knew language… I could run so many behavioural tests if I could set them loose upon each other! Would my girl try to protect me? Would the angry man harm them if they tried to subdue his rage?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Ahh, so many tests I wish I could do… But there is no time and no purpose in them, the answer must be unveiled, I am sure it is very close…

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<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   '''Researcher’s Log – 05/16 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Where is everybody? I saw every other researcher yesterday as I went for medicine to treat my fever, yet I have not been able to find them today and there are no notifications in my computer either…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It is of no consequence however, whatever they do is of no importance for me.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   But perhaps I should look for the medic, this fever is rising and I am even getting disoriented… But the tests must continue…

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   '''Researcher’s Log – 05/20 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I have been unconscious for the last couple days, they told me as I awoke on the medical bay, I cannot believe I pushed myself so hard… And yet I cannot help but remember the first tests I made, those cloned bodies being forced to perform better than an Olympic athlete until they broke down…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   The medic says I must rest, but I can feel that I am very close to disproving Doctor Armstrong’s theory!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   As I step back into my office, I can see that Doctor Armstrong came by, as the blue plants appear moist and so alive, I wonder if he looked over my results when I was not here; I suppose not since my subjects’ reaction was unchanged…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   My head still hurt and my balance was frail, but I had to continue with my tests, for a new idea came to my mind… Servitude…

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<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   '''Researcher’s Log – 05/25 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I could not believe what happened this morning. It is hard to explain but I will try my best in order to keep a record…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   A military squad stormed in the laboratory and held everyone up at gun point… They spouted nonsense in a language I could not understand…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   General Armstrong was shot dead amongst several other researchers…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Several data files were stolen and deleted… The squad went away as suddenly as it came by…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Hours have gone by and I still cannot believe he is dead… Out of all the bodies lying on the floor, he was the one who stood out the most. All the other researchers were the same in their lab coats and red ties, but he never wore a coat, he only wore a white suit, white pants and white tie…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Now he was all tainted in the red of his blood, his eyes wide open in surprise, his screaming mouth was not allowed to close as they gunned him down while he complained about the value of his work…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Even in death, he looked alive…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   His boss approached me, I had only been able to see him from afar… He certainly does not look like a researcher; A towering man, dressed in a black suit, with harsh features on his face…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   He commended me on the progress of my work and insisted that I continued, unfazed, as Doctor Armstrong himself had found that my research was the most advanced and had convinced the squad that it was of no value at all.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Doctor Armstrong… So he had reviewed my data after all… And he approved it… He died for it…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Now I am more certain than ever that I alone am on the right track, but how much of my research had he seen…?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It is unnerving to not be able to understand the man’s mind! I am reminded of this as I go into my office and see my plants recently watered, their bright red leaves swaying lightly… What is his fascination with watering them?!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   My head still hurt from the fever and I still shivered from the earlier shock but I paid no mind. I am almost done with the servitude tests, my results should not delay…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">

<span style="font-family:Tunga,sans-serif;font-size:14pt;line-height:115%;">    Researcher’s Log – 05/27

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   If there is a soul, we will never find it… I have tinkered non-stop with brains and bodies… I have implanted memories, induced feelings and created relationships… I have even made all my test subjects completely obedient to me… I needed nothing more than implanting a vision of the world in which I, as Head Researcher, had every answer and held absolute power…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I have also destroyed flesh and mind with no remorse but I still cannot find that very thing that gives will and purpose to the useless meat I see before me…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Moreover, my mind is occupying itself with idiotic questions… I have given my favourite test subjects pasts and lives with no difficulty, it was only a matter of creativity to mold the scenario into a believable timeline and adjust feelings to the correct parts of the brain.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I even felt like a professional script writer at times.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   All of them believe the story I told them faithfully, but my mind now asks if the memories stored in it are not fabricated by another researcher believing himself a professional script writer…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It is absurd, of course, for my subjects have no mixed feelings about the decisions they have supposedly made, while I am sometimes regretful and sometimes glad.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I do believe that kind of discordance is a fabrication of the soul.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Discordance…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Doctor Armstrong was certainly discordant… And he had a soul alright… I wonder what I could get from his brain… I certainly had never experimented in the dead…

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">'''<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Researcher’s Log – 06/01 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I must not allow my weak flesh to get in the way of my work, even if I have to move around in a wheelchair, I will continue until the end!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I could not get up from bed the day before yesterday, losing precious hours of work with the beautiful brain of Doctor Armstrong. It is a shame his body was no longer useful, the squad really did a number on him, all riddled with bullets, one would think they emptied two or three gun clips…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   But his brain… He must have lived all his life in deep thought, for the marks on his brain were so deep; Even the flesh of the brain felt as strong as a bodybuilder’s muscle. It was so different from the soft, squishy brains of my test subjects…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It was not difficult to revive the synaptic activity either, it took no more than a mild jolt for it to activate. I could feel its powerful life even through the glass of the container and the sepia sea of formaldehyde…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Though it was only his brain, I was almost certain that he was looking at me…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Since I had no need for the screens that displayed bodily functions, I exchanged them for a big display which rendered brain activity into images. I was determined to see what I could get from tinkering mildly with Doctor Armstrong’s memories…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Certainly he will not need them anymore…

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">'''<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Researcher’s Log – 06/02 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I just woke up… My whole body is feverish and in pain… I have lost use of my left arm… Doctor Armstrong’s brain is too powerful for the machines we have… My office equipment exploded as I tried to change one of his memories…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   The moment when was named Head Researcher…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It was done out of mischief as much as for professional purposes. As the graph showed me he was overwhelmed by happiness and pride, I attempted to change his past and have his boss tell him that he had been fired.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   His brain had no reaction for a moment, but then it recognized that something was amiss and fixed the memory. It raged upon me when I tried to alter it again…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I could only see for a split second how every graph and meter showed the brain releasing an impossible amount of adrenaline. Its anger was uncontrollable to the point it exceeded the machines’ power…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   My test subjects were safe inside their containers, but Doctor Armstrong was connected directly to the machine which caught on fire immediately, I could only crawl with all my remaining strength to save him…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   The last thing I remember was a piece of the machine falling over me; I shielded Doctor Armstrong with my body and the machine crushed my left arm…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   But I still have one good arm and the power of my will and mind, my brain may not be as powerful as Doctor Armstrong’s but as long as I live I will carry on!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I went to my office one last time to have my test subjects relocated to one of the dead researcher’s lab… I also went out of my way to bring my plants along, after watering them… Their purple leaves were glad…

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">'''<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Researcher’s Log – 06/05 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I no longer know what to believe… I was sure that I was going to disprove Doctor Armstrong’s theory about the soul being in the brain… I certainly have the data that proves that feelings, emotions, memories and bonds can be reproduced at will…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   But then here he is, back from the dead… Or was he ever dead…? I am sure his body had died, I performed the tests myself… But his brain was just asleep, waiting for a small push to wake him…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   He remains defiant after every attempt at subduing him, not even mind numbing drugs seem to work on him. While the simple tasks of inducing emotions can be performed with no issue, the process of altering memories remains forbidden. He continues to resist against any type of change in what it has stored…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Could it be that, instead of the soul being stored in the brain, the soul itself keeps watch over the brain and what it has accumulated? Could the soul of Doctor Armstrong remain in his brain, guarding all his knowledge and memories?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Are we all the same…?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I was so close to finding the answer and now I feel like I have barely made progress… I cannot understand him now that he is dead any better than when he was alive…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   What’s worse is that he is not even insane. In my curiosity I looked for every defect both brain and DNA might have and he does not display any; He is a very average person in every physical way, but that mind of his is something I had not ever seen…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I have disproved the rumours about him, for all that is worth…

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">'''<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Researcher’s Log – 06/15 '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I sit in my wheelchair, defeated…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   My right arm has failed as well… I have barely enough strength to flick the lever of my wheelchair and move about on it, but the rest of my body is dysfunctional…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   On top of that, my mind keeps pestering me with nonsensical thoughts of life being nothing but ideas planted on empty brains. I have the proof of something that cannot be fabricated before me; Even now, with the machine turned off, I can feel the power of Doctor Armstrong’s brain towering over me… I can almost see his face formed in the waves of the formaldehyde, smiling mockingly at the deplorable sight I must be…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   That willpower cannot be reproduced… He is unable to feel as every nerve has been disconnected, yet he still displayed thought and emotion just like when he walked around the lab, muttering to himself…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   And yet my mind keeps saying that this, too, is someone else’s creation in my brain; Just like his is able to perceive whenever a change is made in his memories, my mind insists that it can sense Doctor Armstrong’s brain is a fabrication, that it defies logic and therefore must not be real…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I cannot believe it, I cannot accept the fact that all the work I have done, all the achievements I have made and all the pain I have gone through have been unreal…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   It has to be real… It must…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Looking back, everything started to go to Hell when the squad came in. If they had not killed Doctor Armstrong, I would have never messed with his brain and I would not be in a wheelchair…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   But that is not entirely true… I got sick before… Why did I get sick when everyone else was healthy…? I know I lost a day or two of sleep and skipped a few meals, but we all do it… I have been doing it since my days at school!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I cannot think of any reason why I would get sick… Unless it was sabotage! One of the other researchers must have slipped something in my coffee or my food… Or the air in my office…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Or…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   A sudden headache grips me… It is not strong… What could have been…?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Doctor Armstrong displays emotion… Which graph is it…? Amusement… He is happy… He is laughing… He is mocking me…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I cannot look at the graphs anymore, the headache is making every light unbearably bright… It hurts my eyes even when closed… I must turn it off…

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   '''Researcher’s Log – x/x '''

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I must have fallen unconscious because of the headache I had; It must have been very strong, as my sight is so blurry, yet I would recognize my office any day. I can see Doctor Armstrong in his distinctive white get up, he seems to be talking to his boss. They do not seem to have noticed I have woken up, I may hear something important about the research!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   “Yes, it was a complete success…” Doctor Armstrong said, barely audible “… he kept on believing his research and results were real until the end!”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   His boss said something but I could not hear it, everything sounds muffled. Doctor Armstrong laughed heartily “I know, I may have been able to keep it up a bit longer, but his body had already failed. Even his mind was reproducing the damage in his ‘dream’. I was afraid the body would take the brain down with it…”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I have no idea what he is talking about, maybe he is heading another research… ?

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   “I know, I know… I am aware bodies cannot be easily cloned and there are still malfunctions, but rest assured that I will use this beautiful brain as a map to complete what he kindly found out for us…” Doctor Armstrong said, then cackled manically and raised his hands high “2 months of experiments performed in a matter of hours and with only one body sacrificed! Only one body for the great cause of mind alteration and control!”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Why would he say bodies cannot be cloned when he was the one who perfected the process… ? I have just worked with countless of his clones! I even made them obey me! I made them hate me, love me, loathe me!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   The only body I could not work with was his because he had…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   He had been shot to death…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   Why is he here in my office… ? When was my office rebuilt… ? Why can I not hear my own voice or turn my head?! Why is everything so blurry?!

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I am unable to move, yet I seem to have caught their attention… Doctor Armstrong laughed “You see? I told you this brain is beautiful and strong! I told you he would come back!”

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   His boss gave him some kind of command I could not hear and he bowed lightly, then walked close to me…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I must be drugged, for I cannot move or even feel my body… I cannot speak… I cannot even turn my eyes… All I can do is see and hear… And all I can do is see and hear Doctor Armstrong “Come, dear brain, it is time for some research…” he says…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   I can see his hands over me… If he is holding my head, I cannot feel it… The he brings me closer to his hip and starts walking out of my office… But he turns around and returns to water my plants…

<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size:14.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:"Tunga","sans-serif";mso-ansi-language:EN-US">   The last thing I can think of is that I cannot remember him being so tall or my plants ever having a flower… <ac_metadata title="- The Project - First Pasta attempt, hope you enjoy it."> </ac_metadata>