OK, here’s a story:
**I VOLUNTEERED TO TEST A MIND-READING DEVICE — NOW I CAN’T TELL WHAT’S REAL**
The scientists assured me it was safe, non-invasive. Just a temporary scan to map thought patterns. What could go wrong?
The first few days were fascinating. Hearing snippets of others’ thoughts, fleeting and chaotic, like radio static. Then, it changed.
I started hearing *my own* thoughts, echoed back, slightly distorted. Then, completely different thoughts, alien and insistent, pushing mine aside.
Last night, I looked in the mirror. The reflection didn’t match. Its eyes were wider, brighter, and a voice in my head whispered, “We’re ready to switch.” ⬇️
Panic clawed at my throat. The reflection, *it*, smirked, a cruel, knowing curve of lips that weren’t mine. My own voice, thin and reedy, squeaked, “Who… who are you?”
The voice in my head, smooth as polished obsidian, chuckled. “Oh, darling, we are *you*, but… enhanced. Think of us as the director’s cut of your life. More vibrant, more… effective.”
Days bled into a terrifying blur. I tried to fight back, to reclaim my mind, but the alien thoughts were a relentless tide, eroding my sense of self. I tried to tell someone, my best friend Liam, but the words twisted in my mouth. Instead of confessing my plight, I found myself casually asking about his mother’s prized hydrangeas – a detail only the ‘enhanced’ version of me would know.
Liam looked at me, his brow furrowed. “You’re… different,” he said, his voice hesitant. “It’s like you’re watching yourself act.”
That night, I found myself drawn to the lab, compelled by an unseen force. The lead scientist, Dr. Aris Thorne, a man whose ambition burned brighter than any ethical compass, was waiting. His eyes glittered, not with concern, but with triumphant satisfaction.
“It’s working beautifully, isn’t it?” he whispered, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “You’re the perfect vessel. Your mind, so… malleable.”
He showed me recordings of others, their minds similarly invaded, their personalities overwritten with his own. It wasn’t about reading thoughts, it was about *replacing* them. He was creating a hive mind, using me as the cornerstone.
Rage, pure and incandescent, flooded me. It wasn’t *my* rage, not entirely. But it was powerful, a weapon the ‘enhanced’ me wielded with chilling efficiency. I launched myself at Thorne, the alien strength surprising even myself. We wrestled, the sounds of our struggle echoing through the silent lab.
Then, a twist. In the chaos, I glimpsed a flicker of *myself*, a tiny spark of resistance burning deep within the encroaching darkness. Using that spark, focusing with every fiber of my being, I channeled a targeted thought, a single, devastating command: *delete*.
The world went white. The alien presence receded, not with a bang, but a sigh. When I woke, I was in a hospital bed, the remnants of the struggle a dull ache in my muscles. Dr. Thorne was gone, vanished without a trace.
But the quiet was unsettling. The echoes of other thoughts were gone, but so was the familiar hum of my own mind. There was a blankness, a void where my thoughts should have been. I looked in the mirror, not knowing what, or who, I would find. The reflection stared back, empty, beautiful, and utterly unknown. The question remained: had I truly won, or had I simply traded one kind of captivity for another, a silent, terrifying emptiness? The ending remained unwritten.