The Costington Institute

Walking down the sterile white corridor, I paused to look over the forms submitted by the interns. Two of them were especially promising. Jason Cho, 26, had a high IQ and a reasonable amount of experience in the medical field. James McCoughlin, 21, was the son of Eric McCoughlin; Eric was one of my most trusted lab technicians. I straightened the files again and proceeded towards the meeting room.

On the way there, I passed one of the patient rooms and heard quiet sobbing. It was number 322 again. He had been a lot of trouble ever since his arrival three days ago. I sent in one of the nurses to give him a mild tranquilizer. Patients never learned; stress would only increase the chance of complications after the treatment. The nurse began unlocking the door and I retrieved a small cattle prod from my pocket-for protection of course.

Looking at him cowering in the corner of his room, I couldn’t help but feeling guilty. We had him trapped like an animal, and he had become desperate, violent even. Every time the nurse stopped by to give him his meds, he would throw them aside and try to escape. I didn't expect anything to be different this time around. He tried to run out of the room. The cattle prod put a stop to his escape plans. He lay on the floor gurgling, unconscious. I paged a technician to give him a quick checkup after his shock. McCoughlin arrived, and I left the room.

Clearing my throat, I turned to the crowd of interns behind me and began my introduction. “My name is Dr. Albert Schumann, and I am the director at this facility. Our goal here at the Costington Institute is to eliminate the need for prisons. Since the revolution in 2010, the prison system was flooded with dangerous criminals. There is no room left, so alternatives are needed. Out latest experiments focus on the use of direct injections of medication to bypass the blood-brain barrier. Although all of the patients are dangerous criminals, you needn't worry about it. The treatment center is perfectly secure, and all technicians are given a prod for self-defense. Any questions at this point?” The interns looked at me with blank stares. “Very well then. Lets continue.” We walked down the corridor and came to a small room with a metal door slit. This entire facility is under video surveillance, and armed guards are stationed at every floor should there be a patient uprising. "Welcome to the operating theater." With great relish, I threw the door open and entered the room.

“This room is affectionately known as the dungeon. This is where we perform our behavioral adjustment therapies.” After the interns follow me the room, I gesture to a metal table and inform the them that they would witness a program in a few moments. We duck into the side room and slide our private viewscreen down. There are a few moments of silence interrupted only by the sounds of nervous interns. Eventually, a man in his thirties is dragged, kicking and screaming, into the room and strapped down on the operating table. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present you with patient number 774. He is a convicted murderer and agreed to become a test subject rather than receive the death penalty.” The interns silently observe the program start. With the flick of a switch I turn on the loudspeaker. "Good afternoon 774, are you ready for the program to begin?" He responded with some choice words and several minutes of unintelligible ranting. Surprisingly, this was common. And to think we were going to be saving their lives.

I speak again and prepare the orderlies. “Activate the viewscreen for patient 774.” A screen lowers down from the ceiling and flickers to life. It is filled with images of shifting colors, which are intended to manipulate the mindset of the patient and make them more susceptible to our treatment. We then inject the patient with various chemical compounds meant to suppress the violent instincts by permanently altering the subject’s brain composition. “Does anyone know the current drug loadout?” Cho raised his hand. “Yes, Cho. Go right ahead.” “Well Mr. Schumann, I believe it’s a combination of haloperidol, L-tyrosine and Vyvanse.” “Excellent Mr. Cho. I can tell you have a lot of potential.” I knew the kid was smart. “We started off using Geodon, but there were too many side effects and most of them died within days. After that we switched to a cocktail of Clonazepam, Depakene and Trazodone. They lasted longer, but ultimately they died before treatment could be completed.” To date there has been a low success rate, but the Institute's goal is far too noble to abandon. The wishes of the Council were clear; they wanted us to rehabilitate them.

Slowly, a long, pencil-thick needle rises up from a hatch in the floor. It glistens in the bright surgical light as the robotic arm unfolds completely and points the needle at the subjects skull. Even more useless screaming follows this and the patient's heart rate rises to dangerous levels. I can see the terror on his face. To date, this was probably the sanest he’s ever seemed. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. I instruct the orderlies to continue, and they proceed to the control panel behind the patient. They manipulate the controls and the arm responds by slowly moving to the proper area, and then plunging into his skull. One of the interns turns and vomits in the corner. He would never cut it here, so I dismissed him promptly.

The patient’s screams can be heard even through the soundproof glass. One of the problems with the treatment is the fact that it is incredibly painful. The needle with the chemicals must be inserted directly into the cranial cavity. The patient’s screams soon die out and we leave the safety of the observation room. I turn to the orderly and ask him how it went. He just shakes his head. That’s the tenth patient to die during treatment this week alone. Luckily, we had plenty in reserve. To date, only one had survived, and he was profoundly affected. The treatment was literally driving him insane; making him paranoid, violent, and very unstable in general. Still, we might be able to cure him once and for all. If he survives. Patient 20 was an anomaly. He was the only patient to successfully receive all twenty doses.

Even though he survived it, it wasn't a complete success. He is no longer a threat to society, but he is a constant threat to himself. After the program he tried to commit suicide a total of 31 times. The last one was frighteningly close. He's currently in isolation, and under armed surveillance. We can't let him kill himself. He was far too close to perfection.