131 Lbs.
26.8
Overweight
Please describe your physical, mental, and emotional state as pertains to this clinical trial.
Mental state not great. Definitely experiencing some memory issues and not sure if it’s from the trial??
At first it was just little things, like not being able to remember what I’d had for breakfast or completely forgetting a volunteer shift I was scheduled for—stuff that isn’t like me at all.
But recently I feel like it’s been getting worse, less like forgetfulness and more like short-term memory loss??? For example, waking up one morning not being able to remember where I’d been the night before. Then I found a text conversation with my boyfriend, Aaron, like a full-on text conversation that I couldn’t remember having AT ALL. Apparently I’d made plans to go to a show with him and didn’t realize it until he was blowing up my phone, asking where I was. I had to make up some story.
Then this week at work, something happened that really freaked me out. One of our regular shoppers finished checking out and we noticed she’d left something at the register. I ran out to give it to her and saw her rounding the corner toward her apartment across the street. I remember going after her, calling her name… and that’s where my memory goes dark. Like, I have a few images swimming around my head, but mostly stuff that doesn’t feel possible. Why would I follow her back to her apartment? Why would she be screaming???
Next thing I remember, I’m walking back into the store and my coworker Jazz is like, “Where the hell have you been?” She says I’ve been gone for like two hours—and she’s right. I turn to look outside and it’s night. WTF?
“What’s that on your shirt?” she says. I look down and see something red and sticky. I tell her it’s cocktail sauce. My hands were covered in it earlier and I’d wiped them on my shirt.
But WAS it just sauce? I could’ve tasted it and been certain in a second, but part of me didn’t want to know. Why couldn’t I remember where I’d just been?
I’m still pretty freaked out about it, to be honest. Between the blackouts and my crazy hunger, all these weird cravings for raw meat… something’s not right. What’s happening to me???
CHAPTER 27
The clinical trial protocol required that after the first three months, doses of EmaC-8 should be self-administered at home rather than by Cronus Health. Emmett had welcomed the change, which meant fewer trips to Chula Vista. It also reduced the frequency with which he was forced to expose his stomach to Dr. Halleck for injection.
Though he was smaller now, edging toward average, Emmett still felt nervous about showing his body. He blamed the loose skin beginning to accumulate at the base of his stomach, which he kept concealed under a cummerbund of flesh-colored Spandex he’d ordered online. Despite his best efforts to hide the garment from Aaron—never taking his shirt off in front of him, even during sex—Aaron had noticed it. He seemed surprised but didn’t say anything. Emmett was grateful he didn’t have to explain.
At the end of his most recent check-in, Halleck had given him a box of four plastic injector pens—two months’ worth of doses—each preloaded with clear blue serum like a drip of California sky. Now Emmett stood before the bathroom mirror, pinching different rolls of flesh, assessing them for potential.
He settled on a bit of belly fat where his stretch marks used to be livid and pink, now ghostly pale. He held the pen against his skin but couldn’t bring himself to push. It wasn’t fear of the needle that stopped him, but a lesser-defined discomfort, a stray whisper of dark instinct that gave the serum the look of smiling poison.
A couple of hours later he dug out his participant handbook and found the number to Monstera’s participant hotline. He needed to speak with someone, reassure himself that what he was experiencing—these lapses of memory, these cravings—was normal and safe. He was met with a robotic voicemail.
“We’re sorry, you’ve called outside our normal business hours.”
Ten a.m. on a Monday was outside normal business hours?
He left a message requesting a callback as soon as possible.
Twenty-four hours later, Emmett still hadn’t heard from Monstera or taken his injection. He ought not to go too long without it, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that something wasn’t right. Why had no one seen Myra around the store the past week? Usually she was in every couple of days. Trying the hotline again, he received no answer and decided to go straight to the source.
