Neo-Cortex

NEO-CORTEX

An intruder. There's an intruder in my house. In my darkness.
The rooms and hallways are pitch black, but I can hear him. There's someone in here with me. He has penetrated this black place. I sense him exploring, moving through my house.
My home is invaded. I must defend my property and my privacy. I slip into the corridor and try to find the origin of the sounds. Whoever it is isn't trying to hide their presence. Maybe he thinks no one is in, believes he can search without fear of his intrusion being discovered or challenged.
I'm fearful of confrontation. Who could it be? I imagine some figure darker than the pitch about them, face hidden, but a glimmer of light just visible where the eyes watch, and maybe the glint of a blade or gun in a ready hand.
In this thick blackness I don't seem to be able to feel the existence of my own body. No trembling or hot sweats in response to possible danger. I cannot even feel my feet upon the carpet. It's as if I'm floating through the house. There isn't even the precious light of stars or moon falling in through the windows. They appear to be blacked out and I'm sure this hallway is longer than it should be.
The noises seem no closer. Maybe I'm not even moving. There are no sensations from legs, arms, or torso. There are no feelings of air upon my skin. No scents arising from this once familiar interior. All that remains are thoughts and the sounds of the intruder.
Where are they? Where am I? My fear is slipping away as confusion begins to grip me. I'm sure I can sense more rooms and corridors about me than my house contains, and yet how can I be sensing this when my body appears to be numbed of all sensation?
Wait! There's a strange sensation building.
I'm having trouble¦
I'm having trouble holding these thoughts together.
They're slipping away into the darkness. The noises are retreating with them.
The intruder is leaving with¦
With¦
The shadow of my life¦
***
The surgeon stood opposite the gathered students, all in white coats and with eyes turned to the table that separated them from their teacher.
The printout from the monitor showed activity. Low and sporadic, but activity none the less.
The surgeon carefully slid the electrode from within the glistening organ. All stimulated activity ceased. The lines of ink on the printout went flat.
After the instrument was withdrawn the lesson continued. The human brain lay upon the cold slab on the table, intrusion ended, life's shadow gone.