My roommate Daniel has always been a trustworthy, reliable guy, at least to me. We’re not best friends or anything, but in the four years we’ve lived in the same house, he’s never shirked his part of the household chores, never kept me up late with noise or having people over, and he’s always on time with the rent.
I say “at least to me” because I know to a lot of people he comes off as a lazy stoner or something. The first couple of years we lived together, he went through a series of minimum wage jobs that he either quit due to them wanting him to work too many hours or got fired from for not showing up. Every time I found out he was out of work, I’d think yeah, this is it. This is the time when rooming with a middle-aged hippie stops being fun and starts biting me in the ass. But nothing changed. He’d find another job, and even when he didn’t, he was never late with the rent.
About eighteen months ago he stopped working entirely. Told me he’d found a company or organization or something that wanted test subjects. Said it was easy stuff and paid big money. Said all he had to do was sign a bunch of bullshit paperwork that said they’d sue his ass if he told anyone what he did or saw. He always laughed when he talked about that part, as though to say the joke was on them—that aside from half a lease on a track house in the suburbs and some beat-up furniture, he didn’t have much to take.
And I assumed that being a guinea pig, especially a well-paid one, would be short-lived or sporadic. I know that it was rare that I was home that Daniel wasn’t there too, though there were a handful of times that he would leave late one night or early morning and not come back for a day or two. When he did show back up, he would sometimes be a bit tired-looking, but otherwise he seemed the same—chill, friendly, and on time with his money. After a few months, I got used to it and stopped waiting for the other shoe to drop.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? The other shoe always drops, and usually not where you’d expect.
Six weeks ago I got laid off from my job. I’d been working for the same company for almost five years—I’d been with them since college and between their promotion track and retirement benefits, I thought there was a good chance I’d stay with them for good. Getting fired was a gut-punch. I had a little savings, but only a little. And after over a month of looking for work, I was running out of money and viable job options without moving or going into another field.
The stress started to get to me. I barely ate, I had two anxiety attacks in a week—one during a job interview (fucked that one up good), and I got to where I was sleeping maybe two or three hours a night. I’d stay up late staring at the t.v. while trying to not think about how quickly my well-planned life was unravelling.
It was during one of those late-night staring contests with cable television that Daniel came through on his way out to one of what he called his “guinea pig gigs”. He gave me a wave and then stopped, his tan, lined face furrowing into a frown.
“You okay, man?”
I looked at him uncomfortably. I liked Daniel, but we weren’t close. We didn’t talk or share things beyond surface stuff or really big stuff. He knew I’d been fired, of course, but I wasn’t confiding in him how worried I was. Still, I could see he was concerned and I appreciated it. Plus, I needed to tell him something anyway.
“Um, Dan, I may be a bit short on the rent this month. I’ll make it up, of course, but…I haven’t heard back from anything yet and my next interviews aren’t until next week. Even if one of them hires me, by the time…”
Daniel was already raising his hand as he gave a gentle shake of his head. “No problems, brother. I got you covered until you get back going. And you will, okay? I know you’re a serious dude, and that’s cool. But try not to be so serious you freak your shit out, right?” I gave him a relieved nod.
“I really appreciate it. I’m trying, it’s just a hard market right now I guess.”
He gave a deep laugh. “I get it, man. Hell, I’ve spent my life going for the low-stress, shit jobs people want to get away from and I still kept getting my ass fired. That’s why I’m loving…” His bushy eyebrows went up as a smile broke across his face. “Hey, wait a minute. The people I work for…well, the people that I guinea pig for…they have a new program starting up. It’s really good money and it sounds easy. It’s a sleep study or something. I didn’t get all the details because I’m still in two different trials right now and they have all these rules about what you can sign up for when you’re already doing stuff. Says it fucks up their data if certain things interact. But…” he trailed off for a moment as though considering something—though, to be fair, he sometimes did that and never came back to a point. This time he did. “I know some of the people there pretty good. That one is going to be competitive because it’s easy money, but I bet if I vouch I can get you in. You interested?”
A mixture of stupid pride and thoughts of being strapped to a table and poked with needles almost made me say no. But then I caught myself. I wasn’t too good to take money from being a guinea pig, and Daniel deserved better than me screwing him over on the rent because I was being cowardly or stuck-up. Besides, he’d been working for these people for months and as far as I could tell he was happy as a fucking clam. Maybe it would do me some good to take a break, make some easy money, and chill the fuck out.
So I said yes.
Three days later I was filling out questionnaires at an office downtown. Six hours after that I was going to a large gray building that I’d always assumed from a distance was part of the university’s main campus. Entering the building I saw I was wrong—there was a security checkpoint you had to pass through and whoever the guys were manning the metal detectors, they weren’t campus police. They were nice enough, telling me what floor I needed to head to when I reached the elevators with a practiced smile and a nod, but something about them still made my skin crawl a little. These weren’t ill-equipped college cops or sleepy old guards like we’d had at my job. These were trained men—dangerous men. Real security like I’d only ever seen a few times in my life. They had an alertness to them, a tension, that reminded me of a large dog guarding his yard. He was friendly enough unless you crossed some invisible line only he could see.
Then you would see his teeth.
Telling myself I was being stupid, I got onto the elevator. I looked around confusedly for a moment at the lack of buttons inside. But then I remembered. I’d been given a magnetic card when I signed in with security, and they’d said it would get me access to where I needed to go on the sixth floor. Holding the card out towards the blank space where the elevator buttons would normally be, I jumped slightly as a sharp dinging noise filled the car and the doors silently closed. Ten seconds later they reopened on a different floor like magic. I’d never felt any sensation of going up or moving at all, but here I was.
A man was waiting outside the elevator, and after checking me in on his tablet, he led me down several halls and into a large conference room filled with a dozen other people. I imagined that most of them were subjects like me: college kids, people looking for some easy money, and…Daniel?
He was seated on the far end of the room, but he caught my eye and gave me a smiling nod. I guessed he’d found a way to get into the trial after all, though he hadn’t mentioned it to me. I searched for an empty seat in vain before finally deciding to just stand at the back of the room. It looked like some kind of presentation was about to begin.
Welcome to our experiment. As you all know from our preliminary literature, this is a sleep study of sorts. It is currently scheduled to last for four weeks, though that may change depending on both your individual results and our collective data. Starting tonight, your participation will include coming in to sleep in our lab every third night. This must happen without fail or your participation in the study will be terminated. For some of you, this schedule will never change until your time in the study comes to a close. For others, your results may dictate future modifications to your participation schedule.
On the days you come in, you must be here by 9 p.m. for evening interview and assessment, as well as initial dosing. You will not be allowed to leave or communicate with anyone outside the facility until 7 a.m. the following morning. Your cell phone, keys, and other devices or valuables will all be secured in a lockbox during your evenings with us. Only you will have the combination to your box, of course.
No doubt there are concerns about the term “dosing”. An element of this sleep study involves the introduction of a chemical mixture we are currently calling Blue Silence. It is a combination of low-dose DMT, ayahuasca, and several proprietary substances. Rest assured, it has been thoroughly and rigorously tested prior to its use in this study, and has been found to have no risk of addiction, toxicity, or long-term physical effects. The goal of its use in this study is to observe its psychopharmacological effects on subjects while sleeping, including—but not limited to—its effects on the dream state.
Undoubtedly, despite our assurances that it is safe, there are some of you that still have reservations regarding the administration of some unknown substance. That is entirely understandable. Unfortunately, we have no practical way of proving it is safe other than promising that it is. All we can do is offer is the option to leave now, as well as an incentive to stay and participate in the study.
As you know, the hourly pay for this study is $40.00. But in addition to this, for every week you successfully complete your participation requirements, you will receive an additional $2,500.00. And if you successfully complete the full sleep trial, whether that is just three or four weeks or longer, you will receive an additional $10,000.00 in cash as a performance bonus at the end. If you wish to leave the study, please collect your things and go now. Thank you for your time.
For the rest of you, welcome and thank you for your participation.
Three people left, but I wasn’t among them. At the time, I couldn’t say why, though I think I understand better now. Most people don’t go into the ocean expecting to drown. They don’t dive down into the darkening blue of a cold, alien world devoid of air and sunlight with the thought that it’s a one-way trip. With the feeling that if they manage to claw their way back up into their own world, they’ll have brought anything back with them. Nothing worse, at least, than the memory of a single terrible moment. That moment when they looked down into the unknown inky black spreading out before them like an eternity of nights without stars and thought they saw something moving there. Something living in that darkness and looking back.
But the memory of that moment would lose most of its power back on the surface. On the deck of a boat or the sands of some beach, it would be easy to lie. To say it had been a trick of the dark and imagination, or perhaps just some stupid tuna swimming along meaninglessly in the vast and unimaginably deep sea. Much better to believe that than the alternatives.
I stayed, desperate for the money and telling myself that, in the end, I was still safe and in control. To be honest, I was more worried that I’d get kicked out because I’d never be able to fall asleep. The room they’d put me in was bland but comfortable, with a soft bed and nice sheets. It was quiet and cool, and the lady who gave me the injection said I should start to feel sleepy soon, but I didn’t feel even sligh…
The cafeteria was empty.
I was in what looked like a school cafeteria…it felt like a high school though I couldn’t have said why I felt so sure that was the case. I felt disoriented at first. How had I gotten there? And where was I? Where was everybody?
Gazing around the room, I saw no sign of anyone else or any indication that they had been there before me. The place was clean—spotless even. But it also had a kind of sterility to it that made it feel wrong somehow. Artificial.
Standing up, I walked over to a big set of double metal doors. On the left one, there was a poster board sign like you’d see at a pep rally. In large, block letters it said:
You sought the truth
What the hell did that mean? It didn’t matter. I needed to get out of there. The right door didn’t budge when I gave the metal release bar a shove, but the left one opened without complaint. I felt a vertigo-flash as I found myself not in another part of a school building or outside, but instead…a bedroom. The green carpet was moldy and squelched beneath my shoes, sending up puffs of rancid air that made me want to gag.
What was that smell?
My eyes were watering, and while this room was empty of other people too, the soiled mattress and blackening wallpaper made me long for the antiseptic staleness of the last place. I stumbled toward the only door, grabbing a heavy brass knob that was greasy with…it didn’t matter. I just needed to get out. I tugged on the door once, twice, and it didn’t move. Putting my hand on the wall to brace myself, I let out a scream.
The wall…it felt like skin. It looked like rotting wallpaper, black and white shot through with lines of red and purple, but it felt like I was touching someone’s fevered arm or soured belly. It wasn’t just the texture. It…gave…in the way that meat gives. And…oh fuck no…
It had goosebumps. Where I had placed my hand, the wall was filled with tiny hairs standing up and row after row of discolored goosebumps.
That’s when I began to scream.
I made it through that door some how. It led me to a street in some city I didn’t recognize. There were skyscrapers everywhere around me and garbage lined the sidewalks on both sides. There were only a few cars parked here and there, several left with a desolate casualness that spoke of having been abandoned. I was expecting silence and solitude again, but this time I heard some distant but growing roar. A moment later, a mob of people came roaring past me. They…they were wrong somehow. Many were naked and some were injured or even half-mutilated, but it was more than that. They moved wrong, sounded wrong. I felt my heart start pounding harder as they approached, feeling sure that they were going to drag me down. They would bite me and claw me and pull me apart like an overcooked chicken…
But then they were past, running around me like I wasn’t even there at all. And maybe I wasn’t.
And then I certainly wasn’t.
I was in a field of sunflowers, or what once had been sunflowers. At the far edges of my vision, at the distant perimeters of the field, I could still see green leaves and yellow-brown heads bobbing gently in the breeze. But closer in…closer in those flowers were withered and black. A blight had befallen them, tracing out a rough circle of death in the middle of that field. It was easy to guess the cause, as there were only two other things of note that I could see. The country road I was standing on, which wound diagonally across the entire field…
And the house in the middle of the road.
And when I say in the middle of it, I mean just that. I could see the road continue on behind the black, three-story monstrosity that rested in that field like some poisonous fallen star. I felt queasy just looking at it, and I was already getting ready to run down the road in the other direction when I saw motion from behind the spindly railings of its front porch.
It was a small man in a brown suit. He had stood up from some hidden seat and was staring at me. Really seeing me, I felt sure. As if to confirm it, he pointed at me and began to laugh.
Not a jolly laugh or a happy one. It was a nasty, mean laugh that went on and on, boring into my skull as…
And then I woke up.
I left the study that morning vowing I was done with it. By the time I’d reached my house, I’d calmed down some. I was okay, right? It was just a weird dream. A bad trip or something. I’d told them about it when they did the “morning debrief” and they said that was unusual. That they’d adjust my dosage so I didn’t have such distressing experiences the next time. And maybe they could, but was it worth it? What if they were fucking up my brain or something?
I jumped as Daniel came in the front door. He looked haggard, and when his eyes fell on me, his gaze dropped a little. “Hey, man. Was that shit rough for you too?”
I gave a short, irritated laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. It freaked me right the fuck out. Maybe you’re used to bad trips or whatever that was, but I’m not, okay? The money’s cool and all, but I think I’m out.”
Daniel nodded, his face sad. “It’s cool, it’s cool. I get it. I’ve seen some bad shit before…hell, I took DMT twice back when I lived in the canyon. But I’ve never had something like that. It felt so real. Realer than real. And I remember it so clear…” He was shaking his head as he stumbled off to his bedroom. “Sorry, man, I didn’t know it’d be like that. Now I have to go and see if I can get some real, normal-ass sleep.” He trailed off mumbling as he went down the hall.
I raised my hand to his back and gave an ineffectual wave. I needed to try and…suddenly I froze. What had he just said? I stood up, my legs shaky as I called down the hall after Daniel, asking him.
He paused outside his door, shaking his head as he waved away the question. “Just me rambling, man. I saw some freaky shit in there. But that dude was the worst part.”
I tried to swallow, but couldn’t. I felt like I was using the last of my breath to push out a few more words. “What dude? What did you see?”
Daniel turned back and looked at me, and even at a distance I thought I could see real fear in his face. I’d never seen him look scared about anything. “It was some man. At this black house. He could see me. Nobody else could, but he did. He saw me and…” He winced, as though the act of remembering hurt him somehow. “…and he wouldn’t stop laughing.”
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Credits
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