Deep space fear
Deep fear.
Darkness and light: deep space, dream and science fiction outside of time
In 2073, I completed a course at a college, and with a nursing certificate I entered a deep-red nursing home to take care of a vegetable patient number 1023.
After an unconventional accident in non-conventional treatment, he woke up — in a disturbing way.
01
In 2073, I completed my studies at the colleges and entered the position of a nurse at the Deep Red Sanatorium with a nursing certificate.
The deep-red sanatorium is said to be a private sanatorium, in fact a terminal care and psychiatric hospital for the rich. They entrusted elderly and sick people from their families who could not do so to a deep-red sanatorium to pay a large sum of money to allow strangers to look after the last days of their families ‘ lives.
I didn’t have enough experience, so I was assigned to take care of the kind of customer that was the easiest to manage — the botanist.
They do not move, speak, complain, and sleep in a single bed that is enough to accommodate two people. My daily work is simple, just to check their subsistence systems and vital signs on a regular basis.
The patient I’ve been assigned to is 1023, which means he’s the 1023rd patient in a deep-red sanatorium. In deep-red sanatoriums, we refer to our patients only by number, on the one hand because some people are not always able to communicate their identity to the institution, and on the other hand because they have little chance of being called their real names.
A young male brother, who was said to be the only son of an invisible rich man, had no future. Unfortunately, all of them were killed in a flight accident, and 1023 survived, but became a vegetable due to brain damage. Now the foundation that manages their family’s heritage is paying for his huge monthly sanatorium.
It’s boring to take care of a patient, and I often have to work night shifts to make sure that 1023 doesn’t die at night because he chokes himself. Sometimes I stare at this face that will never have an expression, and I wonder where he would be now, what he would be doing without that accident…
I happen to be on duty.
Before I went into a deep-red sanatorium, 1023’s treatment team was discussing whether to connect his possible remaining consciousness to the New World in order to stimulate the brain of 1023.
The New World is a virtual universe that parallels reality, where everyone has a single, untraceable virtual identity, and they can enter different subject groups for entertainment, friendship, learning and even work.
When I took over 1023, the hospital immediately contacted the head of the family foundation 1023 to implement the treatment plan.
Despite what the treatment teams say about smallpox, I understand that everything they say is nothing but nonsense. Although mentally ill people have improved their cognitive level by entering the “new world,” there is no evidence that the “new world” can stimulate unconscious patients’ brain to wake up, and the treatment team in 1023 has made such a decision simply to take advantage of the opportunity to take a large sum of money.
You know, it’s expensive to put awareness into the “New World” — I hear they’re putting the awareness network on satellites floating out of the atmosphere, and it’s a real rich game.
But no one wanted to hear it. A month later, the brain connector was assembled in the room of 1023.
Sometimes people have a feeling that something very unusual is about to happen.
When the doctors and technicians attached the electrodes to the head of 1023, and when his pale and calm face was surrounded by black wires, I had a strange feeling in my heart, as if this body was about to be thrown into a virtual net, and soon something would be caught.
I’ve always taken care of 1023.
I gave him the fluid, replaced the filters on the subsistence system, put on the brain connector, removed the brain connector, massaged the muscles, washed the body, and everything was calm.
Until one day, when, in 1023, there might still be consciousness wandering in the New World, his body vibrates with a regular frequency. His body vibrating doesn’t sound like it’s coming from itself, but it’s like something resonates.
The strange vibration lasted for only a dozen seconds, and when the first aid workers arrived in the ward, he stopped. Deep red blood flowed out of all the holes in his head, dripping on white sheets of snow, like hot magma.
I was squeezed out of the room by those professionals and had to wait outside. From the medical equipment in the pushed room, at least 1023 has since gone through the procedures of blood transfusions, hormone injections and pacemakers.
That evening, the supervisor came to update me on 1023.
“1023 woke up. He said, “I can’t see a thing in my stiff face. It’s normal. He certainly doesn’t want to get out of the hospital.
“Is he all right? I was careful to ask.
People who have been in this business for too long will not look at their patients as humans, but unlike 1023, he was my first patient, he was young, well educated, he had a lot of inheritance to inherit, and he was never a troublemaker, and he was such a sweet customer, so I hope he ends well.
But the supervisor poured cold water on me: “He will be transferred to the H section, and you have to keep looking after him.” I’m sorry.
The look on my face must be funny at this point, because my eyebrows are flying out of shock and my mouth is falling out of discomfort.
“But…but is Area H not a psychiatric ward? I’m nervous.
“Yes. The director waved and ordered me to work in Area H from tomorrow. I’m sorry.
“But I’m not sure I’ve had enough training…” The manager took a hard look at me, and I had to shove the rest of my words back into my throat.
He was staring at me, and Gimba said, “You just have to be in charge of the day-to-day living of 1023, it’s simple, just be careful with the doctor. I’m sorry.
I had to promise, but I was still confused.
It is not surprising that he wakes up with some mental disorder, and it is foreseeable that he will be transferred to other wards for medical observation, but the full name of the H section is a sanatorium for high-risk mental patients, all of which are single-person isolation wards.
What exactly did you do to deserve this?
02
With doubts, I arrived on time the next day to deliver breakfast to 1023.
Push the door open, I see 1023 tied to a bed with electric shocks on his skin. I noticed that 1023’s fingers were tied to his wrist, which means he must be awake, but he closed his eyes.
The doctor in charge of 1023 was standing on the bed, and he was flying and writing on the notebook.
Noting my arrival, the doctor stopped the pen and told me without any expectation: “Don’t untie the belt of 1023, you can try to feed him, and if 1023 doesn’t get in, then give him some nutrient.” I’m sorry.
I noded my head to make it clear that the doctor looked down and went out in a hurry.
I put the breakfast plate on the nightstand of 1023, and I tried to ask him, “Today’s breakfast is meat and grass juice. Would you like some?” I’m sorry.
1023 no response. I’m not sure his hearing was damaged in yesterday’s accident, but the doctor will at least let me know if he can’t hear me.
Because he didn’t give me any feedback, I had to put the straw to the side of 1023.
That weird sense of discomfort has surfaced on him again.
The eyes and mouth were open, but he was like a baby whose head was moving around the pillow with no control, and there was no way of placing a straw. And We helped him to put the straw into his mouth, but he could not suck like a normal person, but used his mouth organs to push it on his lips frequently.
Contrary to the childish behaviour of 1023, his face was covered with frustrations and undetectable panics that only full-minded adults could have.
I ended up feeding him with a spoon, and when he ate, he behaved like my six-month-old niece, messing everything up. The difference is that my niece doesn’t know what to eat and he doesn’t seem to know what to do.
I barely ate something for 1023, and his big eyes looked around me like a satellite, and I’d never seen it in anyone. When you look at the eyes of 1023, even though you know clearly that he’s not exactly the same as you, but subconsciously, you’re still going to believe that what you see is actually some kind of unproven fetus.
To ease the tension on the skin caused by the attention of 1023, I tore my own dry, sticky mouth and asked him, “Sir, do you remember your name? I’m sorry.
It’s a buzzing sound from the chest, and it sounds like a pattern, and it doesn’t seem to be random, but it doesn’t sound like any language I know, and I can’t tell what he’s trying to say.
Maybe because of my embarrassing inaction, 1023 suddenly got angry. He shakes his body in every possible direction, rubbing his bed with his feet on the ground and making a stingy sound.
The strength of 1023 was so strong that he was nothing like a patient who had been awakened from a coma for three years, and he continued to make that unrecognized sound while struggling. His voice stops with four syllables, and he moves increasingly in tandem with the torso.
I had to call the guards and the doctors, and it was only with the drugs that he became quiet.
From the 1023 ward left, cold sweat had dipped in my back clothes. I can’t connect this gruesome barbarian creature to the fragile, quiet patient of the past, and I’ve even suspected that 1023 may have been possessed by evil spirits, but that’s impossible.
03
First day of work in the H Zone, I spent in frustration and boredom.
1023 was forced to sleep all day, and I had to crouch on the chair in front of his room, counting the amount of sunlight that jumped into the window and cut into the bars. The huge brain connector, which had previously been placed in room 1023, had been swept out of the house and placed in the groceries downstairs with the electric wheelchair that he had never used.
After the accident of the first day, the attending physician at 1023 continued to come here every day to give him an impeccable psychological test. The seniors of the sanatorium are trying to hide the accident that happened to 1023, and they’re even willing to pay more to take care of this patient.
This high-paid job with a confidentiality agreement left me unable to refuse.
Although I was hardly hesitant to sign my own name, I must admit that in the first two weeks of awakening, his performance scared me.
If the other person was in my position, he might argue that he was just not used to facing highly aggressive mental patients. But frankly, I feel a pure and infamous fear, and I cannot even say what I fear.
What I’m afraid of is 1023? He was chained to a bed, his hands and his feet were shackled, and he could not harm me at all, but at most he made a noise that was annoying. But I was very scared of something about 1023, something that was hidden under his skin.
Given that 1023 is acting like it’s been irreversibly damaged, I always thought that the situation of 1023 would not improve. But his situation has gradually improved since the third week — in a disturbing manner.
It is hard to understand that we do not have a lifetime to be skilled in the use of our limbs and organs, and that behaviors such as swallowing, talking, walking, etc., must wait until our bodies grow to a certain degree before we can be learned. It is difficult to forget these basic functions once we are in control, unless there is irreversible damage to our brain.
As I said before, 1023 wakes up like a baby, who can’t eat and can’t speak on his own, and who doesn’t know how to manipulate his body at all, so I and his attendings thought that his brain had been hurt by something that we had not yet been able to identify; but after two weeks, 1023 started learning and mastering his body and everything around him as if he had forgotten how to eat, walk and speak.
But a person does not suddenly forget how he walked before, unless he never walked with this body.
In the sleep of 1023, I watched him. And through this face, which is no different from the previous one, I see no longer what I imagined was him in front of the camera, but a piece of material without form. What is it? Where did it take 1023?
In my frightful panic, now this 1023 quickly learns to speak.
“Let me out. “I don’t belong here. I’m sorry.
Listen, 1023, it’s like 10,000 tiny spiders crawling up my toes into my ears. The doctor standing in front of me must have felt this late feeling, because the day after the opening of the 1023, he never showed up again, and I was in the isolation ward with 1023 every day.
And what he will say on the Day of Resurrection was very simple, and he turned his back and said to everyone who saw him, “Let me go outside. Please, I do not belong here.” I’m sorry.
He always said these words without an expression and did not seem to have learned how to control the fine muscles on his face to allow the skin to move in a normal way.
I’m not mistaken that 1023 means he wants to get out of the room because he never showed his intention to leave the room, and he’s been acting like he wants to leave the body.
One time I accidentally forgot to supervise him while he was in the toilet, and he found himself tearing his chest in the bathroom — he was acting like he was doing something like an evil beast. He’s gone crazy fighting himself for life and death, with blood and flesh everywhere.
After that, 1023 had to lie in bed for more than half a month, and everyone who had seen the scene had made an appointment with a psychiatrist in the hospital — except me. I’m still left alone to take care of 1023 and not allowed to leave.
I understand I was given up. After I signed the confidentiality agreement and voluntarily entered the same cell as 1023, I became a one-off tool without the necessary maintenance, which could be used until it was completely damaged.
I feel like I’m going crazy too. Fear, tension, loneliness, isolation, duplication. I must be crazy to talk to 1023 and really believe what he said.
04
Perhaps there is some connection between the moon’s craziness and the extent of man’s madness, because the day when I am driven to the edge of the cliff of reason is the full moon.
That day, after dinner at 1023, I again tied his wrists to the guard by the bed, and then back to him two metres away, asking him who the hell he was — a question I had asked at the beginning, perhaps 1023 had answered at the beginning, but I would never understand his answer.
Hear me, 1023, turn your face to me in peace, and say, “I am…”
His last syllables are voices that I can’t discern and repeat, which reminds me of the fact that, in growing up, babies gradually lose some of their original voices by learning their own language. I chewed the voice of 1023 in my head and wondered if that was what we had when we were kids and what we’ve lost.
By that time, I had almost established that there was a new soul in the shell of 1023.
And I have the courage to speak to the presence of my patient: “Where have you come from? Where’s the man in this body? I’m sorry.
“I come from…” is another syllable I can’t understand, and I guess it’s about where it came from.
“…in a galaxy very far from here. Your sun is our star, and the light it sends will take at least 65 years to be captured by the eyes of my people. My people stripped my consciousness out of my body and threw it into the universe at a speed faster than the light. I don’t know how long I’ve been in the universe — when you’re faster than light, time means nothing to you. I’m sorry.
I can hear it. I didn’t notice it stopped. The alien mind looks around, and there’s a strange flash of light in the eye, like some kind of liquid reflecting.
Emotions cannot be conveyed by its words, and I can only hear it without emotional fluctuations: “And then I stopped, and I was caught by this body. I’m sorry.
I can’t help but begin to imagine that in the vast black universe, a wave of consciousness is flying forward and suddenly it hits an empty cavity. It’s like a flying bird crashes into a bird-hunting net in a tree and it’s trapped.
But what I’m shaking about is, “Is this body empty when you’re here? I’m sorry.
Is the original 1023 consciousness gone long ago?
“I don’t know. “The mind of the alien begins to repeat its long-standing claims, like a broken tape: “I must leave, I must go, I must go home, I must go home…”
It seems that the skin can no longer bear such a strong feeling that it does not belong to its own true master, that 1023 has a crooked face and an uncontrolled spasm. I had to warn the alien consciousness that if it didn’t quiet down, I would have to call the guards.
“This deformed body!” I’m sorry.
I don’t know what kind of people are in its country, but in my view, 1023 is a healthy and tactful body, which is not called “mature.” I’m trying to imagine what alien consciousness looks like, but I can only think of disgusting things, like smooth, multisect worms or filthy, non-magic moles.
I again warned, in cold sweat, of what was in the mass of 1023, unexpectedly calmed down and only twisted faces hinted at a previously out of control.
“I have to leave.” I’m sorry.
“How do you leave? I couldn’t help but ask, “I can’t let you kill yourself. I’m sorry.
What if 1023 is still inside him?
Alien consciousness was silent for a while and asked, “What about the machine?” I’m sorry.
“What machine?”
“The machine I saw in the room, the black thing, like the nest. I’m sorry.
I don’t understand the metaphor, but I understand what it means. I say, “That’s a brain connector. Would you like to transfer your consciousness to the Internet?” I’m sorry.
“Sensitivity… even for the sake of your own peace, people should not try to play with consciousness…” It murmurs and fears radiation from every crack in the body.
The expression of fear is not limited to the degree of control of the body by the alien consciousness, but is the emotion that all intelligent creatures are born of, and it stems from, fear of death in the depths of the genes, which can be shared even among different species. So, of course, I joined it in this fear from the stars and deep consciousness.
It’s not my fear boils in my head, and it cools and turns sweat all over me.
1023, like radiation, directs my head, through the barriers of skin, muscle and bones, licking my brain from the inside.
I couldn’t help but stand still. I can’t talk, I can’t escape, I can’t control my limbs — maybe that’s what it feels in the body of 1023, so of course it thinks it’s a cage!
I still have a faint hope that 1023 real consciousness didn’t get knocked out of his body in that cosmic accident; I hope he’s still there, just being suppressed by alien consciousness.
“What do you want to do? What do you want me to do before I leave? I’m sorry.
“Bring me that machine. “An alien’s consciousness commands that the lines on its face form a mockery. I can’t read what it really wants to express. I see only drama.
I ignored the look on his face and I put the rest of my heart under pressure. I wanted to talk to it calmly, but the shivering throat had betrayed me: “Yes, what else? I’m sorry.
The head of 1023 swayed very slowly around, at exactly the same frequency, to remind me once again that it is not any life we know that lives in this body.
05
What alien consciousness wants is not hard to get. The brain connector, though expensive, is of little use in a deep red sanatorium, and it’s lying downstairs in the ashtray room, and I can take it with me at any time. The question is how to avoid people’s eyes and ears.
I should, as a matter of fact, do a no-loss plan after the investigation, but I want it too much to leave, and I cannot continue to live close to the radiation of the alien consciousness, and the feeling of living with it makes me physically repulsive. So that night watchman that night, I snuck into the groceries room on the first floor, moved the brain plug to the medical cart where the patient was transported, and snuck it into the room at 1023.
When I opened the door to room 1023 with my spare limbs, the sense that was in the body of 1023 was standing in front of the window staring at the night sky.
Today is the night of the moon, and two satellites reflect the light of the sun, as high as two dazzling red eyes, and the reptiles look down.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? ”I tried to ease the tension when I pushed my brain connector into the room, but I forgot to ease my tape first, which led me to send words that were sharp and sharp, and I heard a little bit of an ear.
However, the alien consciousness was only standing indifferent, and it took a long time before it opened its mouth with a long line of words that I could not understand, and then explained, “as long as we were in the same moonlight, we could enjoy the joy of reunification.” I’m sorry.
I’ve responded in two vague words, but I don’t really understand what the relationship is between a “move the moon” and a “happy reunion”. The exposure to the red moon without cover means greater chances of being discovered by natural enemies, and in our culture the moonlight is usually associated with pain, death and madness.
When I put the machine in place, I took the alien consciousness to the edge of the bed and let it lie down. I still tie a pair of pros, two pairs of lower limbs and a pair of limbs on the side of my body to the bedboard, as usual, to make sure that it does not cause too much damage.
Although I did forget a lot because of the stress and insomnia, the memory of the previous care for 1023 was not completely removed from my head. I was familiar with the road and I put the electrodes on both sides of the head of 1023 and buried his face again with a thin line like a slug.
Look at this face, in the middle, I thought I saw a big bunch of worms sucking his flesh in the dead face of 1023.
Alien consciousness told me a dozen frequencies to try it one by one, and if he didn’t react in half an hour, the next frequency.
I trim my brain connector, and after a brief hesitation, I pressed the start-up switch, and 1023 was immediately pulled into a higher, more phantom space.
In the first half hour, I was so nervous, I was so bored in an hour, and three hours later, I was a little skeptical about the whole idea of being from an alien. Could this be a funny trick; five hours later, I began to look at time and fear that the early shift would catch me.
The sixth hour after the alien consciousness got into the New World, and when the first morning light permeated into the room, I noticed that 1023 bodies began to shake at a small rate.
This vibration is almost incomprehensible in comparison to the initial violent tremor, and I have confirmed several times that the body is actually vibrating vertically. Like the first time, this vibration is like a resonance.
All of a sudden, the eyes of 1023 fell asleep, and he returned to the dead lead gray when hundreds of little eyes rotated colours, ranging from black, which showed a sharp rise in body temperature, to red, which symbolized fear.
I turned off the brain connector and pulled out the wire on 1023’s face, but he was still lying down and there was no sign of waking up.
I was standing by his bed, and it took me some time, and the color of 1023’s eyes had only deepened, and finally turned into a comforting black — the color of the universe. His face has also become softer, more emotional and more like a real person.
I’m sure that alien consciousness has fled this body and the planet in some way I don’t know, and I believe that the real 1023 has returned, and that it is still in a heavy sleep.
Although it is impossible to explain why 1023 is going back into a coma, the court is satisfied with his current state and my life is finally back on track.
Only after that, when the moon is not so strong at night, I will stare at the dark night sky, swam at the stars above it as sand, and guess which star will be the sun of alien consciousness.
On very rare nights, deep fear will grab my trachea. The idea that alien consciousness might come to the planet again with its people makes me chill and can’t breathe.
I think I’ll live my whole life in a desire and fear of a deep space, and then fear and, finally, fear.
The end–
□ Muni
Record number: YX01MVomQG2lg5WB6
Starlight cinema.
Comments
Darkness and light: deep space, dream and science fiction outside of time
Tang Xinwon, wait!
I don’t know.
Keep your eyes on the road.
