The Experiment

Lucas pushed open the heavy oak door and found himself in an ornate foyer, glowing with sunlight from the vaulted windows opposite him. Despite the room’s magnificence, it held an unsettling stillness that set Lucas on edge. For the hundredth time, he studied the partially crumpled pamphlet in his right hand to make sure he had the correct address. 824 Walden, this should be it, he thought, though he was still doubtful. The trials he signed up for were usually in university or office buildings, not mansions in the middle of nowhere.

His eyes wandered up to the middle of the pamphlet’s front page, where he reread the details of the experiment, his pulse quickening at the thought of such a lofty payout.

“You will be shown a series of videos, each 2-5 minutes in length, and your total payment will increase after each one, as follows:

1. $1,000
2. $2,000
3. $5,000
4. $10,000
5. $20,000
6. $50,000
7. $100,000”

Whoever’s running this is either loaded, or they’re confident I won’t get through all the videos, he thought. This had better not be a scam.

Lucas’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of light footsteps in the distance, and he turned just in time to see a woman appear from a hallway at the far end of the room. She started talking while there was still a fair distance between them, but the cavernous space carried her voice to Lucas without trouble.

“One o’clock, right on time--you must be Lucas,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Lucas responded as the woman approached him. She wore a white blouse and a charcoal pencil skirt, and her long black hair fell over her right shoulder. Under her left arm, she clutched a clipboard and a small black notebook.

“Great. I’m Sylvia,” she said, holding out her hand. Lucas shook it and noticed that her grip was much firmer than his. He had participated in enough of these tests that he no longer bothered with formality, but Sylvia had a very professional air about her.

“Well I’m sure you’re eager to get started,” she continued. “I’ll just need you to sign this waiver, and then we’ll head down the hall on your left.”

She handed Lucas the clipboard, and he quickly thumbed through the dozen or so pages to the date and signature fields at the end. All these places used the same boilerplate language for NDAs and liability--what danger could possibly come from watching some videos?

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Sylvia said as he signed the last page, “what brought this experiment to your attention? How did you find us?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of things like this lately--psych studies, medical trials, anything that’ll pay the bills. I’ve, um... things have been rough lately, and this had the biggest payout I’ve seen by far.” He looked up at Sylvia and handed the clipboard back to her.

“I see,” she said, glancing at the form and tucking the clipboard back under her arm. “Follow me, please.”

Sylvia led Lucas down the hallway and into a windowless, nearly vacant room. It had one white wall, which Lucas quickly recognized as a screen for the projector that hung from the middle of the ceiling. The other three walls were a deep blue, and in the room’s center was a single chair. The only other items were a small plastic tub by the door, and a camera in each of the room’s four corners.

“Please, have a seat,” Sylvia instructed, motioning to the chair with one hand as she grabbed a remote from the plastic tub with the other.

Lucas sat in the chair, facing the screen. The seat was hard and unforgiving--it brought him back to high school, except there was no desk attached to use as an armrest. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, as Sylvia walked to the corner of the screen wall and settled under one of the cameras.

“Don’t mind me,” she said, “I’ll just stand over here so I can observe your reactions and take some notes. After each video, we’ll pause and you can tell me if you’d like to move on or stop. Feel free to say what’s on your mind while the videos play. It’s as simple as that. Any questions?”

“Um, how will I get paid?” Lucas asked sheepishly. He was in a state of excitement and disbelief at the prospect of getting this much money so easily. I have to get at least twenty grand, he thought, but nothing’s stopping me from the full hundred.

“A man of business,” Sylvia responded through a playful grin, “I respect that. We’ll give you a check once we’re finished.”

Lucas nodded. That check had better not bounce, he thought. Either way, it’s worth the gamble.

“Are you ready to start?” Sylvia asked.

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

“Okay--video number one.”

Sylvia clicked her remote and the overhead lights dimmed as the projector shot an image onto the white wall. It was a woman standing at the front of an empty classroom. After nodding subtly at the camera, she turned and began scraping her fingernails against the chalkboard, starting in the upper corner and moving in a slow diagonal downward. Lucas couldn’t see any speakers in the room, but there must have been some in the walls and ceiling; the sound wasn’t too loud, but it enveloped him as if his ears were pressed directly against the chalkboard. Lucas’s body tensed up and he squirmed slightly in his chair.

“Oh, God!” he exclaimed. He couldn’t help but let out a few nervous chuckles at how excessive it was. He looked at Sylvia, who poised a pen over her notebook, but didn’t appear to be writing. Her face was expressionless.

The scraping went on for a few more minutes, and then the video ended and the room brightened.

“Thoughts?” Sylvia asked.

Lucas ran his fingers through his hair and laughed. “I’m not sure what there is to say,” he said. “I mean, it was uncomfortable, sure, but it’s still about the easiest thousand bucks I’ve ever made.”

Sylvia smiled. “Ready for the next one?”

“Bring it on.”

The lights dimmed and a sepia-toned stage appeared on the screen, accompanied by a scratchy music box melody. Lucas recognized it immediately: it was the music video for NSYNC’S “Bye Bye Bye”. He laughed heartily and glanced again at Sylvia.

“You know, I think the guys in the band might take it personally if they found out you put them after nails on a chalkboard,” he heckled. “Oh man, this song has always bugged me though. I used to argue about it with my wife all the time, she loved this damn song.”

Lucas’s confident grin faded as a wash of memories rushed back to him. He hadn’t heard the song in years, but he realized now that his response to it was much more visceral than the simple dislike he remembered feeling in the past. It was a time capsule he didn’t want to open, one that made his stomach clench. He forced his mind elsewhere as the song finished.

“Thoughts?”

Lucas shrugged. “Just that if I got two grand every time I had to listen to that song, I wouldn’t have needed to come here today. Hit me with the next one.” He focused his thoughts on the money, and figured that if he acted nonchalant and confident, maybe it would relieve the tension in his gut.

Sylvia smiled and clicked the remote.

This time, the audio started before the video did. It was the sound of waves lapping against a beach, with seagulls calling faintly in the distance. A moment later, the screen showed a view of the ocean under a clear sky, the camera moving smoothly over the waves’ crests as though gliding on some unseen vehicle. It then plunged into the water, sinking slowly, its view staying straight for a moment before turning up to see the light at the surface fade from sight.

Lucas’s heart raced and he instinctively dropped his gaze to the floor. How could they know?

“To receive payment for this level, you must keep your eyes on the screen,” Sylvia ordered.

In defiance of his screaming conscience, Lucas looked back at the screen, straining to detach himself from what he saw. This is what a fish sees, that’s all, he repeated to himself. While his efforts were enough to get him through the remainder of the video, the adrenaline hangover at the end was almost too much to bear. It must have been clear to Sylvia that he was distressed, as this time her question was more pointed.

“Would you like to stop?”

For a split second Lucas strongly considered it, but then he remembered the money. He didn’t have a choice--he had to go on.

“Next one,” he said timidly, shaking his head.

The lights dimmed and the image of a bride and groom appeared on the screen. They were cutting their wedding cake, one hand each on the knife, amid cheers from family and friends.

Lucas’s eyes welled up with tears as he watched his younger self smear cake on his wife’s face, laughing and trying to avoid getting frosting on his rented tux. The scene cut to the couple on their honeymoon in Fiji, giving a tour of their resort. Lucas trembled as the montage continued. He wanted to run, but was paralyzed.

When the last excruciating memory had ended, Lucas’s pain quickly turned to rage. He sprang from his chair and bolted at Sylvia.

“Where the fuck did you get that footage? Who are you people?” he hissed through clenched teeth, grabbing Sylvia’s wrist and snatching her notebook. She looked shocked, but not frightened.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss, and let me remind you that due to the waiver you signed, you’re not at liberty to ask. Now let me go, give me back my notebook, and sit down, or you will not get your money. Understood?”

Lucas was only half listening as he flipped through the notebook. All it contained were tallies on the first four pages--six, thirteen, eight, and twenty.

“What the hell do these mean?” he asked, his voice shaking. Sylvia grabbed the notebook back from him, and Lucas slowly eased his grip from her wrist, realizing how he must look.

“Sit down,” she commanded.

Lucas was desperate to leave, to drink away this whole experience, but he couldn’t. Reluctantly, he returned to his seat. What could possibly be next?

“Play it,” he said, the words falling out of him at barely more than a whisper. Sylvia obliged.

Lucas’s spirit plummeted as he heard the familiar ramblings of a toddler trying to speak. He watched his son chase the cat around the living room of their old house, Lucas’s younger self laughing with joy as his wife egged the child on from behind the camera.

“No, no, no,” Lucas repeated pathetically. He ran his sweaty and quivering fingers through his hair, his breathing staggered through choked sobs.

When the video ended, Lucas cradled his head in his hands and watched as his tears formed a dark patch on the carpet. He knew this feeling all too well: he had once again hit rock bottom.

“No more,” he whimpered, “no more. I’ll take the twenty grand.”

He heard Sylvia’s footsteps move toward the door, and looked up as she was pulling a small piece of paper from the plastic tub. Lucas rose defeatedly and took the check from her, noticing that it was already filled out. He glanced down and saw no other checks in the tub.

“Thank you for your participation,” Sylvia said flatly. Lucas didn’t respond. He walked out the door next to her and left the building, certain that the money wasn’t worth it, trying not to think about what the last two videos may have been.