The drug called happiness

         He was hooked up to an ungodly amount of machines. Most were there to acquire data. That'd check his blood pressure, heart rate, brain activity, and a host of other things. While some were there to keep him chugging along. I had stripped him down for the surgery. Inspecting him I felt a little self conscientious. He had short blonde hair, blue eyes, a strong chin line, and was in perfect shape. I looked at the mirror to my right; at my black hair which had long ago beaten me in the great war of style. At my eyes which had lost the life that used to be so evident. Their wonder extinguished, replaced with an almost grotesque dullness, they had turned grey. My face was forgettable, its plainness used to make me cringe at the sight of it, I guess at times this was a blessing. My scars were the only members of my body that told any emotion. A star had been placed on my stomach, at the center of it was my belly button. My right breast held a vertical zigzag, my back was the proud owner of a number of carvings. They were mostly just holes varying in size; there was no pattern to their placement. I looked around the lab to make sure everything was in order. All walls but the southern were identical. They had a white table with some drawers and white cupboards above them, they all contained medical materials. The southern wall had a steel door, as well as a portrait of Niccolò Machiavelli. It was the only color in the room; it made me snicker a little bit every time I saw it. He had done so much, yet I had him there because of one quote. "The ends justify the means."
         "Wh-What's going on? Why can't I move? Somebody help me!" My patient yelled.
         "You know that won't do any good," I said this in such a matter-of-fact way; I felt a surge of hatred for myself hit me in the gut. "You can scream all you want, but you will never have control. That is your first lesson."
         "Why are you doing this; what do you want?"
         "That's your second lesson, you don't get to know. Life doesn't tell you why things are happening; they just do."
         "What the hell are you taking about?" He was getting frustrated.
         "I find it so dull to work in silence. So, I've decided to bestow upon you my great knowledge of how life works."
         I took a scalpel that was laying on a the tray next to me. It always felt so smooth. With a deft movement of my hand; I started to make a vertical incision. One of the machines lit up. He yelled out in pain.
         "Did you forget your first lesson already?" I shouted over his cries.
         When I reached his waist I stopped, and returned the now bloody scalpel to its home. I studied my handy work. The cut was straight; his screaming had grown tiresome.
         "If you don't stop right now I'm going to be forced to cover your mouth. Is that what you want?" I felt like a parent speaking to an unruly child.
         This thought made me experience a pang of sadness. He continued to scream. I grabbed my scalpel, and waved it in front of his face. He stopped screaming.
         "I'm sorry. I've been very rude; I forgot to introduce you to Thomas." I gestured toward my scalpel. This reminded me of one of those shopping channels.
         "Look at this premium scalpel. It's the mark-48, nicknamed Thomas." These words rang out in my head in that over excited voice most talk show hosts use.
         I cracked a smile. I returned to the world of the living, when I heard the increasingly annoying voice of my patient.
         "I'll give you something for the pain; okay?"
         I sighed and strode over to one of the tables. I opened up a drawer; my eyes moved over the various syringes I had inside. My hands came to rest on two. One was filled with a dark purple liquid, while the other found one that contained a golden liquid. They were my own creations. After, removing them, I closed the drawer. I rolled my right sleeve up to prepare it for an injection. My arm was covered with puncture holes.
         "Fucking junkie!" My patient was watching me intently.
         "It seems you're done screaming, maybe you don't need anything then?"
         He looked away. The anger that had been in his eyes a moment ago, had been extinguished. I felt a small prick as I inserted the syringe filled with the purple liquid into my arm. I placed the empty syringe back in a separate drawer. As I walked back to my patient the effects of the drug had already started to take hold.
         "I'm glad you're back; we missed you." A million voices whispered this into my ear, all of different age and gender.
         "Hey! Hey! What are you waiting for?"
         Once again the whiny voice of my patient had returned me back to reality. I had moved from one end of the room to the other, and my second syringe poised to strike.
         "Of course, of course. You know, some say patience is a virtue."
         He rolled his eyes in frustration. I was very slow, and delicate with this syringe. He closed his eyes. For the second time I felt the small prick as I inserted the syringe into my arm. Without it the effects of the purple liquid would have sent me into the dark hole of madness.
         "What the fuck?" His voice was starting to hurt my ears.
         "One of life's favorite tricks is the idea of false hope."
         Before he could whine some more I covered his mouth with duct tape.
         "A little brutish, I know, but it does the trick."
         As I moved all my tools into place for the up coming surgery; I started to hear a piano playing a somber tone. It was entrancing; it started to grow louder and louder. Then, at its peak it stopped. The lights in the room went out. For a second, my head felt like it had been smashed against a wall. An unnatural cold fell over me; a chill went down my spine. Then, with a loud bang, it started up again, even louder than before. Lights flickered on. People were floating above me, to my right and left. They were all looking straight ahead, with blank stares. Only their upper bodies were exposed, each person had a vertical incision running down their chest. They began to hum along with the piano. A spotlight was shining down at the end of this gauntlet of people. It was illuminating the piano, and its master. I walked towards it, as I did, I looked at the faces of the choir. I recognized some as previous patients others, however, I could not. The familiar feeling of guilt gripped me; I looked down. As I reached the spotlight I recognized the face of its master, it was my own. It was unnerving, when I was standing next to myself I noticed he also had an incision, as well as, a slit throat. The impostor's eyes were closed, and the music had stopped. The only sound I could hear was my own breathing. The choir had stopped their singing; I turned around to face them.
         "Don't you understand, my work is important! It will change the world." I pleaded. My voice had lost its fire halfway through.
         As I turned back around the impostors face was inches from my own. I felt the warm air he exhaled on my nose. I stood staring at him; I felt like something was trapped in my throat. When I started to move my hand to feel if anything was there he pounced on me.
         "Look at what you've done to them!" He sounded hysterical.
         He gestured over to the silent choir. I rotated my head to face them; they were all looking down at me now.
         "Look at what you've done to me!"
         He had opened up the incision, revealing his insides. His heart was light grey, dry, and cracked. His lungs had turned black. One seemed to be filled with liquid, while the other had shrunk to the size of a thumb. His liver was a sickly green, and was covered in holes. His kidneys were missing. I struggled to get him off of me, but he was stronger. He had me pinned down.
         "It's not worth it look at the cost." The impostor's voice was calmer now. "These are human beings."
         "I never said they weren't. I cannot stop now; I've gone to far."
         With all the jostling that was taking place a piece of his heart broke off. A cockroach fell out of the new hole onto my face; it scurried into my mouth.
         "You're beyond saving." The impostor growled.
         The cockroach had stopped in my throat, it was chocking me. My ex patients had started to crowd around this spectacle. As I ran out of breath some smiled, others looked at me with disgust, few looked at me with sorrow.. As I began to slide into unconsciousness, the choir began to chant.
         "Beyond saving, beyond saving, beyond saving."
         When I opened my eyes again I was standing over my patient. His chest cavity was open, lying on the tray beside me was a bloody electric saw. I was holding a folder. Inside it was pictures of all of his organs; each picture was accompanied by an in-depth examination of the organ. The notes were in my own hand writing, but this was really the work of the drug I had taken. It allowed me to be incredibly proficient at my work, while I suffered from the horrific hallucinations it brought on. I looked over at my patient his eyes were barely open; he was looking at me. I removed the tape over his mouth.
         "Please, just bring me water." He said in a quiet dry voice.
         I walked over to another table, and got a bottle of water. I went back to him; I poured the water gently into his mouth. There was a quarter of it left when I stopped. He smiled.
         "Thank you." His voice was no longer dry, but it was still quiet.
         "I see you don't have anymore fight left in you." I immediately kicked myself for saying that.
         "That blank stare you had while you operated on me. I know now; I'm beyond saving."
         For a moment I thought he was mocking me.
         "No, it's just a coincidence." I whispered to myself.
         "What was that." His voice had perked up a little bit now.
         "Never mind, it was nothing." I said hurriedly.
         "O-okay then, please, why do I have to feel this pain. Jus-just put me under."
         "I'm sorry, I can't do that." I felt like this was the first time I was actually talking to him, not pretending.
         "Why not?" His voice was shaky.
         Before I could open my mouth he spoke.
         "Oh right, I forgot, my second lesson." He laughed a little bit. It was the one some people use when they really feel like crying.
         "Hey, it's okay though. This is part of the operation is actually quite enjoyable." I tried to say these words with as much enthusiasm as possible.
         "What do you mean?" He asked.
         I went over to the syringe drawer. When I came back I was holding one filled with a green liquid.
         "Don't worry this one really is for you." I joked.
         He shook his head. I carefully plunged the syringe into his arm, administering the green liquid. He instantly started crying.
         "Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt." He said while laughing. "This is amazing."
         He looked around the room, and smiled. Each time he looked a different direction his smile grew wider.
         "I know it is; I know." I said quietly to myself. "I'm sorry for what has to happen next."
         I grabbed my scalpel. My patient looked up at me.
         "It's okay."
         My lip started to quiver, and my hand started to shake so much I almost dropped my scalpel. I quickly composed myself.
         "There's something you need to know about life. It is the master of cruel jokes. Its greatest work is the feeling of happiness. I would consider happiness to be the worlds most dangerous drug. True, it doesn't have the brutal physical dependency that accompanies some drugs. However, it is the most addictive, what's more is that everyone uses it. Life has made it so you will get a taste of it enough to keep you coming back. Yet, the higher you feel from happiness, the lower you'll feel when the inevitable wave of sorrow washes over you."
         I flicked my wrist making a small cut on his leg; his laughter stopped.
         "No! No! No! It's gone everything's gone what have you done to me?" He screamed.
         All the machines were going haywire now. He started to have a seizure. It quickly faded away, and he was left unconscious. I cried. When I wiped away the tears, and regained my vision four large metal doors with eye slits in them surrounded me. I went to the one on my right, and peered through the hole. A man covered in bandages from nearly head to toe was pacing back and forth. Only his mouth had been left uncovered.
         "Her hair is fire, yet she brings only darkness!" He said quickly. "She's carved her way into my head! She's everywhere!"
         He began to look around. He ran towards me. His mouth was the only thing visible through the slit now. His teeth were yellow and chipped.
         "You've seen her haven't you?" His voice was angry now. "Where is she! where is she! where is she!"
         He started to bang on the door; I backed away until my back hit another door.
         "Hehehe, why do you hide what you are?" The voice from the cell asked. "Just show the world! Worst case scenario they'll put you down like the rabid dog that you are. Hehehe, deep down you know you want it."
         I heard his foot steps as he moved away from the door. They were slow, and one of his legs was limp so he had to drag it. I turned to the door on my left. I could hear crying coming from inside it. When I peered inside I couldn't see anyone. The crying increased in intensity and volume. Soon the entire room started to shake; I lost my balance, and fell. When I got up a wooden table was in front of me with two chairs on opposite sides. My legs started to feel very heavy. I walked over to the table to sit down. I heard someone's familiar laughter behind me, when I turned around to see who it was no one was there. I could hear someone humming from across the table; I turned back around to face them. When I saw her I almost fell out of my seat. She was so beautiful, that it hurt to look at her. It felt like I was submerging my eyes in acid; I had to look away. Each time I dared to look at her she was more beautiful than the last, causing it to be more painful. I wanted to say something. Maybe i could fix things, or, at the very least, change them make them better. Nothing would come out.
         "It's pointless anyways." I thought.
         I began to feel exhausted, as if just being near her required energy. She reached out her hand. I went to hold it, but just as our hands were about to meet mine turned to ash. She smiled; I could not tell whether it was supposed to be sinister or comforting. Seeing that felt like molten lava had been injected into my heart. I no longer had the strength to keep my head up, nor did I have the strength to look at her. Just as I was about to fall asleep I felt her hands moving across my face. She picked up my head so that I was facing her. It felt like I was staring at the sun. My heart started to beat faster and faster. The molten lava had moved to the rest of my body. My whole body felt that searing hot pain, and yet I was lost staring into her dazzling eyes.
         She started to sing. "You better shape up, cause I need a man."
         Her voice was so sweet, the taste of chocolate filled my mouth. She continued to sing. I desperately tried to say something, but there was something stuck in my throat. She stopped singing, and smiled again. I closed my eyes, when I opened them again I was back with my patient.
         "He's back." He said weakly.
         His voice sounded much older. Once again, a folder was in my hands; I didn't bother reading it. I looked at his organs, they all had the same characteristics as my impostor's organs had. Except there was one difference, his heart still looked healthy. I smiled; I had made progress.
         "Just tell me why I have the right to know." He tried his best to sound commanding but his voice broke towards the end.
         "It's simple I want to make everyone in the world happy." I said.
         He sat there with his mouth open. I waited, this was not the first time I'd spoken to one of my patience; they all had had different reactions to my purpose.
         "There has to be a better way." He spoke these words slowly, as if he had thought about them deeply.
         I shook my head. His eyes began to water.
         "What you felt at the beginning. I can make that last forever. I just need more time, more data, and more experiments." I said these words quickly.
         I was starting to gain hope, maybe he would understand.
         "People are happy." He spoke these words, as if he didn't believe them himself. "Your plan won't work it can't."
         "It will yo-"
         He cut me off. "If our places were reversed you wouldn't accept this. Why don't you test it yourself, instead of killing others!" His voice had picked up some steam.
         I showed him my arms.
         "I tried, but if I die nobody is left to continue my work. I don't want it to be this way, but it's a necessary evil. When the dust has settled, and I've perfected concoction. Few will ask how I did it. However, if it makes you feel any better, I plan to put a bullet in my head when I am finished with my work." I spoke somberly.
         "Liar!" His old self was back.
         "What I have said is the truth, but it matters little if you believe me or not. You asked what this was; I told you." I tried to make my voice sound as strict as possible.
         "Someone will stop you. This can't g-" He gulped,
         His heart had stopped beating. He started to make a crackling sound; looked at me, and perished.
         "I'm sorry." I whispered.
         I closed my eyes, and gave him a moment of silence. When I opened them I was surrounded by fog. I was standing on wet grass; I could make out the outline of a swing set through the fog. The scent of freshly cut grass was in the air. People began to walk out of the fog, however, something was wrong with them. They were covered in darkness, a smoke like substance was emanating off of them covering their true forms. They were all around me getting closer and closer. I looked around, but there was nowhere to run. I heard footsteps coming from right behind me.
         "Hi dad."
         I turned around; the being standing in front of me looked like all the others, except for his green eyes.
         "Tommy!" I choked back tears.
         We embraced each other.
         "You can't give up. We need you." He waved his hand around everyone else.
         Now that they were closer I noticed some of them had nooses around their necks. Others had cuts on their wrists, while some had holes in their heads. Tears were flowing down all their cheeks. I felt a cold liquid going down my back. Tommy pushed me away; blood was running down his arms.
         "Stop others from sharing our fate. Promise me you will." He pleaded.
         "I will son, I will."
         He smiled. I went to embrace him again, but just as i was about to make contact, he vanished. I was back in my operating room, everything had been cleaned up. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I felt a searing pain in my chest. I ripped off my shirt to see what was wrong. My scars were reopening, except they were not opening up flesh. Instead, it was a glossy red glass. I started to pick away at my skin soon there was none left and I was peering inside myself. It was cloudy i felt like I was looking into a swamp. I saw a streak of black, but before I could focus on it, it moved. I saw it again it looked like an eel, except it had the eyes of a human. It looked up at me staring at it. It's eyes were intelligent; I could have sworn it smiled at me. Then, it vanished. I felt it moving around my body. It started to attack me I'd get an electric shock every couple seconds. I grabbed Thomas, and began to stab at the beast. The scalpel would bounce off the glass gracefully, it was no use. I fell to the ground, writhing in pain; I continued to try to pierce the glass.. I felt him move up through my throat, it felt like I had just swallowed tar. I vomited a black, pudding like, substance. While I gasped for air I noticed there was something moving in it. The cockroach was on it's back its tiny legs kicking furiously, but hopelessly. I blinked, and the vomit turned orange. I noticed some half digested bread in it. The cockroach was still there, only it was right side up now. I brought my hand down on it I could feel it squirming in my hand. When I brought it up to my face to inspect it; it had vanished. It was then that I noticed I was bleeding. I had cuts all over my body. I went around the lab, as I always did after a surgery, gathering the necessary materials to patch myself up.