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Description
What a crock of shit.

They said I wouldn't be able to feel anything. None of the pain, none of the pleasure, nothing of the sort when they said they'd be able to use my body to help in science. They claimed I'd be in good hands. I don't know why the hell I bothered to believe them, coming from the US government and everything. Maybe for once, I though something good could come out of this. I was trying to be mature, optimistic.

Why do I even bother?

"STOP! PLEASE, STOP!"

The scalpel plunged into my skin again, cutting through another layer of tissue as he took hold of a flap of skin. With a harsh pull, there was a rather horrifying tearing noise, and I screamed bloody murder, shaking and struggling to break free from the chains that held me down. A piece of my body was being ripped right from my stomach area, the knife cutting through the skin slowly and surely as if on a dotted line. "Stop moving," the scientist hissed, glowering at me from behind a facemask. "It won't hurt as much…" Here, he grabbed the flesh like it was a steak. "…if you didn't squirm!"

One moment later, he was holding it up and examining it before placing it in a glass jar filled with ectoplasm. Right. In front. Of me. He just casually placed a piece of my goddamn flesh in a beaker. Once again, he loomed over me, but he put down the scalpel. Thank god. If he cut me up any more…

He picked up a needle, gazing at me and back at the hole now in my stomach. Without any warning, he placed his hand inside the skin wall and held it open, struggling to hold me down as I writhed in agony. With a scowl, he plunged the needle into the stomach, pulling out the syringe slightly as if he was taking blood. I could feel my vision hazing over, ghost and human half feeling equal amounts of agony and defeat. Liars. Liars, every single one of them.

They lied.

The needle was slowly pulled out of my skin, the scientist speaking nonchalantly about something. By this time, I wasn't sure what the hell he was going on about. It must've been medical mumbo jumbo, but hell if I knew or even cared at this point. I just wanted out. Gone. No more. If they stuck me in the freezer to get rid of the pain… by now, I would've taken the incinerator over everything.

Again, he stood over me with another needle. And again, he grabbed inside my body and held me for a moment before plunging the needle into my stomach. He injected something inside me, and I figured it was a dye of sorts. Maybe something to see all the bones in my ghost body. Who knew?

…then it came again.

The pain.

The wicked, wretched, unwanted pain. The want to claw out, get away, stop the nonsense and get rid of the shits who decided to put… put me…

…put me through… this…

---

1:57:29 AM.

Subject P subjected to overdose of drug use. Could not keep vital signs.

Lethal injection successful. Phantom eliminated.

Next experiment: Subject V.

Description
What a crock of shit.

They said I wouldn't be able to feel anything. None of the pain, none of the pleasure, nothing of the sort when they said they'd be able to use my body to help in science. They claimed I'd be in good hands. I don't know why the hell I bothered to believe them, coming from the US government and everything. Maybe for once, I though something good could come out of this. I was trying to be mature, optimistic.

Why do I even bother?

"STOP! PLEASE, STOP!"

The scalpel plunged into my skin again, cutting through another layer of tissue as he took hold of a flap of skin. With a harsh pull, there was a rather horrifying tearing noise, and I screamed bloody murder, shaking and struggling to break free from the chains that held me down. A piece of my body was being ripped right from my stomach area, the knife cutting through the skin slowly and surely as if on a dotted line. "Stop moving," the scientist hissed, glowering at me from behind a facemask. "It won't hurt as much…" Here, he grabbed the flesh like it was a steak. "…if you didn't squirm!"

One moment later, he was holding it up and examining it before placing it in a glass jar filled with ectoplasm. Right. In front. Of me. He just casually placed a piece of my goddamn flesh in a beaker. Once again, he loomed over me, but he put down the scalpel. Thank god. If he cut me up any more…

He picked up a needle, gazing at me and back at the hole now in my stomach. Without any warning, he placed his hand inside the skin wall and held it open, struggling to hold me down as I writhed in agony. With a scowl, he plunged the needle into the stomach, pulling out the syringe slightly as if he was taking blood. I could feel my vision hazing over, ghost and human half feeling equal amounts of agony and defeat. Liars. Liars, every single one of them.

They lied.

The needle was slowly pulled out of my skin, the scientist speaking nonchalantly about something. By this time, I wasn't sure what the hell he was going on about. It must've been medical mumbo jumbo, but hell if I knew or even cared at this point. I just wanted out. Gone. No more. If they stuck me in the freezer to get rid of the pain… by now, I would've taken the incinerator over everything.

Again, he stood over me with another needle. And again, he grabbed inside my body and held me for a moment before plunging the needle into my stomach. He injected something inside me, and I figured it was a dye of sorts. Maybe something to see all the bones in my ghost body. Who knew?

…then it came again.

The pain.

The wicked, wretched, unwanted pain. The want to claw out, get away, stop the nonsense and get rid of the shits who decided to put… put me…

…put me through… this…

---

1:57:29 AM.

Subject P subjected to overdose of drug use. Could not keep vital signs.

Lethal injection successful. Phantom eliminated.

Next experiment: Subject V.