Since the dawn of man, we have sought to know everything in existence. My name is Dr. Steven Abner, and I'm here to tell you that omniscience will NEVER happen.
In April 2009, I was selected to participate in a joint hearing of the congress through the National Academy of Sciences. The discussion: New Sciences to be studied. After heated debate over topics like Nanotechnology, Energy, and Space Exploration, a voice suggested a profound idea that was met with some stares-Omniscience. The idea came from a rather stupid fellow in my view, Dr. Isaac Morton. I had never been met with such a proposition. The idea of an all-knowing human? Questions raced through my head, until I heard a voice say "I accept the motion!" The next question raised was, of course, who would lead the project. At that moment, the same voice I heard before called out my name. I lashed out at Morton, but to no avail. The motion passed, and on April 7, 2010, testing began.
The test subjects were volunteers, students at the National Academy of Science. All had IQs of over 100. They had been hand selected and extensively tested. In all, ten subjects were selected: seven men and three women. They had been informed of the procedure, but still, when reminded that the special injection given to them had to be administered through the genitalia, the females put up quite a resistance. The injection was a DNA stimulant that would expand and cause the chrosomes controlling the functions of the brain to compress every bit of data so as to fit every possible piece of knowledge into the subjects' minds. The subjects were sealed in a chamber with thousands of books, ten of our finest supercomputers with which to study, and enough food to last them for over a year, but there was a catch: they had to make it themselves.
The subjects were perfectly fine for the first week of study. They spoke to each other, studied attentively, and in their off time, played on the internet. After the two week mark, however, they stopped reading altogether. Instead, they spent most of their time writing in notebooks and sleeping. However, as they slumbered, they tossed and turned violently, and screamed the things that they had learned. After three days of this, they attempted to hide from us. When they realized that they could not, they began their displays in public. The subjects stripped themsselves above the waist, when we noticed what was on Subject 2's right arm. The Greek alphabet was partially written in blood on his arm. We expected that this would be the only time we would see it. We were wrong.
After this, the subjects began to cut into themselves with the knives they had been given to prepare food with. They constantly cut symbols, words, and numbers into themselves. What threw us for a loop was that they experienced no pain whatsoever. In fact, they seemed to be smiling while cutting themselves. The practice soon went awry. The subjects began to kiss each other, still cutting into themselves, and now each other. They soon began to perform sexual acts, like "French Kissing," Oral sex, and even full sexual intercourse, while cutting into each other's flesh. Hour after hour they did this, the men smiling twistedly. The most disturbing part was that none of them seemed to feel pain. We took extensive notes on the subjects' actions, but somehow we were still puzzled.
The sexual acts finally stopped after January came to a close. The test subjects were lined up, then told to strip. The cutmarks, surprisingly, were healing very well. The scabs were almost gone. When asked about what had healed them, however, only one response was given. "We used this,"said subject 2, the one who had been discovered cutting himself first. He went to the cabinet and held up a bottle of blue liquid. A sample was immediately sent to our lab. The results startled us. By taking small dosages of several pain suppresants such as Ibuprofen, Morphine, and Fenatyl, and a number of clotting agents and proteins, had created a serum that would make anyone immune to pain, as well as fully heal over a period of about two days. This was mind-blowing. In a month, these people had created the penultimate healing agent. The project was working. However, the female test subjects were becoming more and more resistant to testing. They resisted the males' advances and even slapped them when they attempted to seduce them. When the time came for their half-month examination, we found the females, covered in writing, but this time, it wasn't in blood. It was in black paint. One word was written on each girl that spelled out MUST GO HOME. The girls' request to leave was mostly ignored, but their pleas became more desperate. They began to live their daily lives stripped from the waist up, painting each other with the word "Home" on every part of their body. We were beginning to get irritated when we finally witnessed that changed our minds.
Subject 8, the girls' leader, what you could call a leader, and the most attractive of the group, was slumped in a chair, reading To Kill a Mockingbird, when three of the males grabbed her, and slammed her against the wall. One of them garabbed her arms and forced them into the air. The second one took a knife from the silverware drawer and walked slowly towards her. He grabbed the collar of her shirt, cutting into the threads. He then dropped the knife and tore her shirt in two, then spun her around, took it off, and spun her around again. The subjects groped her for aout three minutes, then backed away. Then the first man punched her in the stomach. She clutched her stomach and lurched forward. Then one of the others took his elbow and smashed it into her back. She fell onto the ground. Then the third male picked her up, thumbs under her breasts and fingers clamped around her back and threw her. The first subject then grabbed her, set her down, and punched her in the face. The second subject then kneeled on top of her, repeatedly punching her face, then jamming his elbow into her chest, causing her to spit up blood. The other two tried to stop them, but they were batted away easily. One of the men stood up, then body slammed the girl, jamming his elbow into her breast again. She spit up more blood. They forced her to stand up, then forced off her pants and underwear, then threw her on to the bed. Then the men stripped and began to rape her violently. They then grabbed knives and began to carve more Then, the other subjects double-teamed the girls and cut their clothes off as well. They beat them and threw them on the bed, and did the same thing. But it got worse.
Soon the men were throwing the women into one another. First slamming their whole bodies together, then their heads. the did this many times, until the women lay in a heap on the floor, bleeding from their heads. The girls were extracted first thing next morning and sent to our medical facilities, then dressed, given their belongings back and sent home. February went on uneventfully. March? Not so much.
From the first day of March, the subjects studied the play Julius Caesar quite intently. after about a week, they began to ritually repeat the words "Beware the Ides of March" for hours on end. Whenever one looked up and saw Dr. Morton, who was assisting me on this project, however, they would all look up and say, "Beware the Ides of March, Morton. Your time has come." Morton thought none of this, but it worried me. On March 14, Morton decided to go home and spend the night in his own bed. I bid him farewell, hoping nothing bad would happen.
The next day, my assistant, Steven, came running through the door. "DOCTO ABNER! DOCTOR ABNER!" Steven was never like this. I wondered what was going on. "It's Isaac." Oh no, I thought, this can't be good. "Spit it out, lad!" I demanded. "Well," he said, shaking, "he...he's dead."
I ran to the lounge. the TV was still turned on. The screen showed Morton's car, completely smashed next to a truck. When I asked Steven what day it was, a slow, nervous reply was given. "March 15." I cringed. The Ides of March.
I turned on the intercom and told the subjects that I needed to perform an outside test, and that one of them would be extracted. The subjects began to whisper to each other, then Subject 2 replied, "Very well." Two security guards were sent to bring Subject 3 to be tested. What happened made my blood run cold. Upon opening the door, Subject 1 grabbed the guards and threw them into the room. The subjects stood the guards up. Subject 2 then delivered three quick blows to the first- a punch to the stomach, a solid uppercut that caused the guard to fall back, then a stomp to his neck, which shattered his spine, killing him instantly. The second guard was then struck twice in the neck, and once to the philtrun, the area in the middle of the mustache, under the nose. He fell dead, too. They looked up at me, smiling. I lost my mind. I threw myself into the control board, grabbed the mic,and screamed at the top of my lungs, "YOU! YOU REFUSE TO DO EVERYTHING! TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW!" "You will know all that we know, when the time is right," said subject 2.
Next morning, there was a CD case on my door, with a note attached:
You may find this-enlightening. All is not as it seems among you.
"What is this?" I thought out loud. I popped the DVD into the drive in my laptop. The familiar Media Center dooo-do-do-do sounded. I clicked "Play DVD." I was taken to a blue menu screen with a bunch of 3's and the words "Not What It Seems." I was taken to a series of security tapes. They ranged from simple captures to what looked like a proffesional pornography, of Steven and-8. I was appalled by the sight. Steven was having relations with Subject 8! I didn't know what to feel. I felt something, a mixture of anger and... pleasure. When the video ended, A photo of Subject 3 appeared, with the same words as the title. Then a news report popped up. The news crew was at an apartment in Steven's complex. Apparently there was a murder last night. The screen suddenly distorted and a picture was shown. Steven, lying on the ground, with several bullet holes in his chest. Then the same photo of 3 popped up, with the words "ALL-KNOWING" on it. I turned on the news. There it was, plain as day. Steven Cooper was confirmed dead. Time of Death-2:30 AM. I rushed to Steven's apartment.There he was, lying on the floor. I rushed to him, held my young student and trusted companion and confidant."Steven, oh,my dear boy, who could have done this to you?"I choked out from behind my tears. Then I saw it. The cryptic writing on his arms.
I had a hunch.
Next morning another murder had happened. Then another, this time two killed. Then another sometime later. Four casualties. I had one last theory I needed to prove.
For the next week, I had my workers operating double time. Everything went smoothly. The subjects seemed to be focused on the Rocky movies, and they repeated a boxer montra constantly: Never let your guard down. Then it happened. One of my top scientists was killed in a brutal street fight. According to the news, He was murdered by a street gang. I could only watch as the news report showed camera footage of the murder.
The murders stopped completely three weeks later, after two women were murdered. The first woman was stabbed. A picture was shown, and a name given-Natalie Cofflin. Subject 10. The second girl was shot. Gina Leeway, Subject 9. The two didhave something in common. Cryptic writing, except for the number three written on it. The number three.
I decided to confront subject three the next morning, but I was shocked at what I saw. Upon looking down from the skybox,I saw a horrible sight. Six of the subjects were dead, bloody and beaten, to the point where it appeared that they looked like a pile of flesh, instead of a human body.I saw the door wide open, and a man huddled in the corner. When he saw me, he jumped up. "DOCTER ABNER!" he called, "You're in terrible danger!"
"What?" He pointed slightly to the left of me. "Turn around," demanded a voice. I felt a slight pressure on my back asthe voice spoke,and out of my peripherals, I noticed an M1911 pointed above my ear. I saw the subject grab the bed and bring himself to his feet, then grab the last scrap of his shirt and pull it off,dashing through the door, before I was pulled around. I was staring at the eyes of a woman. Subject 8. She put the gun down, looking at me. She grabbed me and pulled me into her chest, and whispered to me. "I must confess. I did it." She forced my hand onto her chest."Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"I want you to know what it feels like to be insubordinate. For so long, we women have been abused and treated as second-class. This experiment was my perfect opportunity. Now that I can learn everything, I can finally give women a place in this world," she said as she pushed me down. She knelt down and placed her breast in my mouth. "At least I can give you some sexual pleasure before you die," she said as she smothered me inside her chest, then aimed the gun at my head. "Any last words?"
"Yes. Omniscient,my ass."
I grabbed the gun and swung it back as it went off. Suddenly a man grabbed her by the waist and spun her, right into his fist.She ran up to him, but missed. The man punched her in the stomach, then in the jaw... the same moves used to kill the guard. It was Subject 2. I kept watching as the two threw fist after fist. Then Subject 2 Grabbed her by the waist again and threw her to the floor. 2 had 8 pinned down, legs on either side of her, hands on her arms, until she bucked him off. She then did the same, except she had her hands around his back. The two grappled for a time, until 2 submissed her again. This time however, she kissed him, then delivered a solid right hook to the jaw. 2 rolled off,then 8 picked him up and punched him, continuing to do so while walking him to the wall. Even then, she kept landing punches, until one solid blow by 2 sent her back. As they fought,I slowly crawled to the gun. I wrapped my fingers around it.2 and 8 grappled standing up until 2 threw 8 into the wall, then delivered a headbutt to the abdomen. The two spun around for some time, until 2 threw 8 off again, stumbling back. "DO IT!" he called. I pulled the trigger,and watched as Subject 8 fell to her knees, then collapsed, dead. I set the gun back on the floor.
The last thing I saw was Subject 2 crudely bandaging my arm. "You're going to be fine."
I woke up to the news. Scientist Turned Hero: Experimenter Saves One, Takes Out Serial Killer.
Subject 2 stood over me. "Good morning, Docter Abner."