Algernon | Teen Ink

Algernon

January 23, 2023
By ZachCarr147, Howard, Wisconsin
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ZachCarr147, Howard, Wisconsin
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Author's note:

This was written for my creative writing final and my teacher suggested I publish it. So here it is! 

The author's comments:

Part 1 is the longest, with the chapters decreasing in length as they go on. 

I will confess. There are things in this world that are beyond our modern comprehension. I understand fully that this is shocking coming from a renowned scientist, however, even I must concede this fact, and every single scientist who refuses to is nothing more than an idiot. 

 

Why does the cat chase the mouse? For the thrill? For its own hunger? But then, why does it hunger? “Because its body requires nutrients to survive”, a scientist would say. But if the cat were doing this purely for hunger then what has been the point of the cat’s owners feeding it this entire time? The cat just had a meal and yet, it still chases the mouse. Then, surely, the cat must be doing it for the thrill? For what other reason? However, if the cat were doing it for the thrill, would it not be more adventurous around the house? Would it not escape to the backyard where it could have much greater thrills than chasing a common house rat? Would the cat not keep the mouse alive if it truly did prefer chasing it over other adrenaline rushes? Certainly the thrill isn’t it either. 

I suggest a third option. As living creatures, we hunger, and we seek thrills, but not for our own sake. What if we hungered for something other than food? What if we sought more than a temporary experience that might get endorphins flowing in the moment, but not in the long run? Like the cat, and like all animals, we seek power. An overwhelming presence over all other things. We seek a hold on those that are weaker than us and we wish to have their life in the palm of our hands. To impose. This is why the cat chases the mouse. The mouse’s fate is up to the cat. We act similarly to the cat, as evident in politics and global affairs. We conquer, we destroy, and we impose. 

However, we are not the cat. We are no more a cat than I am a literal cat. I receive much backlash for my theories and my research. No institute would hire me with my track record, even considering my fame with the public. But that is fine, because I have accepted that I am not a scientist. A younger, stupider me would argue that I am as much a scientist as every other scientist, but I now realize. Since I am not every other scientist, I must be no scientist at all. This realization has provided me with so much more depth in my research, releasing myself from the shackles of the ego and the public’s perception of myself, allowing me to finally get to what I truly strive for, what my research has been for all along: the nature of reality. 


We, as a people, are stupid. We pretend to be the cat. We dress up as the cat and chase those we perceive to be the mouse and try to control their fate and how they experience life. However, our reality is, we are not the cat. We are the mouse. 


❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 


Emily went to school sick today. I didn’t want to send her, it broke my heart to see her suffering. However, my work takes priority. It will, in the end, be a beneficial sacrifice. I also have a meeting with a potentially new assistant: Sam. I’ve been researching alone ever since my last position gave me the boot a few years ago, so it might help accelerate my studies to have a helping hand. 

There’s a knock at the door. I opened it to be greeted by an adolescent boy. He must be in high school. He might be trying to solicit me for a wasteful club. 

“I’m not interested in what you’re selling.” 

“W-Wait, I’m not selling anything!” the boy grabbed the door as I began closing it. Stubborn. 

“Then what do you require from me?” 

“I-I’m here for the job interview, sir.” 

Job interview? Surely this child cannot be Sam? I cannot allow a child to help with my studies, they’re far too dangerous. 

“Are you, perhaps, Sam?” 

“Yeah, I'm here for the position of lab assistant?” 

He makes it sound like he’ll be paid. I suppose I should mention how Sam found this “job.” He called me, he sounded older on the phone, and said he was a fan of mine; a fellow researcher with similar goals who would do my bidding within the lab. I rejected him, at first, but he persisted. Once again: stubborn. Yet I agreed to a hearing. I do need the extra hands, and I’d never endanger my precious Emily in such a way. 

“How old are you?” 

“Just turned 17, Mr. Stevens.” 

“Don’t you have a sport or club or something better to do?” 

“Nothing would be better than this opportunity.” 

Flattery: a common manipulation tactic. And yet, like most people, I succumb to it. 

“Fine. I’ll review you. Before you get my final decision, you must fill out a form of consent that leaves me non-liable in cases where harm or death might occur.” 

He flinches for a moment. Maybe I will manage to get him to not persist? 

“Okay, once again, thank you for this opportunity.” 

What? Even after that? No sane person would accept a non-paying job in which they might die. 

I led the boy into my lab, which is located in my basement. Unfortunately, I had to stoop to basement dwelling after my funds were cut by my previous employer. He didn’t think my research was “ethical” or “important enough” to deserve funding. What does he know? He’s just a cash cow and we all know it. Whatever. I don’t need him. I- 

“Mr. Stevens?” 

“Huh?” 

“You zoned out I think.” 

I…zoned out? This is embarrassing. I, once again, “zoned out” due to my mental ramblings. This is a common occurrence for me, however, I would hope that this wouldn’t have happened right before giving an interview. I should be better than this. I’m world renowned! Well, maybe not world, that’s a rather large scale, but I’m at least county renowned. I’m freakin’ Wesley Stevens! I’m the- 

“Mr. Stevens?” 

“Sorry, sorry. My thoughts just uh, cause my body to stumble sometimes. Forgive me.”  

“...Alright. Your lab is pretty nice. It looks straight out of a movie or something.” 

“Ah, yes. My crown jewel. All of my life’s work is contained right here.” 

Sam began to wander about, looking at my collection of technologies. According to my degree, I’m a biologist, so naturally I have many things a biologist might have. However, I think placing me into a scientific category is too limiting, for me. While yes, most of my studies are on a biological level, I feel like the importance that they have is so much more than just biology. 

“Hey, uh, Mr. Stevens?” 

“I’d wish you’d stop calling me that. Wesley would do just fine.” 

“Right. Wesley, what’s this chamber over here for?” 

“It’s a holding chamber. Have you never seen one before?” I’m starting to think that this boy has never been in a professional lab before. 

“What do you hold in it?” 

“Mostly diseased animals. I wouldn’t suggest going in there, by the way.” Sam stops in his tracks, as he was about to enter the chamber out of assumed curiosity, “It hasn’t been cleaned since its last use. I can’t find a cleaning agent strong enough to kill the bacteria left behind.” 

“Have you tried bleach?” 

“Have I tried bleach? Of course I have. What do you take me for? A fool- ah, just a second.” 

I quickly walk over to my cabinet where the cleaning supplies are held. Surely I must’ve tried just pouring simple bleach on it, right? That answer is so obvious. If I had tried it, it would be in here, as I refuse to throw out cleaning products half the time. If they aren’t good now, they might be good later, as my father always said. Sam joins my side, peering into the cabinet. This is utterly embarrassing. Once again, I might’ve just made a fool of myself. 

“What’re you looking for?” 

“None of your concern.” 

“Is it bleach?” 

“Silence, child.” 

There is no bleach of any sort in the cabinet. I have several concoctions of chemicals that I produced myself, however, there is no standard, buy-it-at-Walmart, bleach. 

“...” 

“What is it?” 

“...You want the position of lab assistant?” 

“Yes, Mr. Stevens.” 

“Call me Wesley. Or Wes. Either is fine. You’ve got the job. Here’s $20. Go get some bleach.” 

“T-Thank you, sir- I mean, Wes!” 

“Yeah, yeah, now hurry up. That stain really should’ve been cleaned sooner.” 


❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 


It’s been a few days since I’ve hired Sam. He was right about the bleach, in this scenario at least. I guess that goes to show that you shouldn’t reinvent the wheel. I had Sam take a sample of the stain and asked him to observe it under the microscope. He’s a bright kid, really. He looks like your average brute, but he’s shown a lot of knowledge on biology. He was able to discern that the bacterium was one that hasn’t been discovered by humans yet. Typically this strain is described under the umbrella class of rabies, as it contains many of the similar symptoms, however a keen eye can see that it’s entirely different in structure. 

I often work with undiscovered microorganisms, usually deemed too hazardous to be dealt with in standard laboratories. Then I inform the CDC of my discovery, and unless the organism is infectious to humans, they keep the information unreleased and pay me differing amounts depending on how important the discovery was. Why don't they release the information? Sam asked me this on his second day. As well as hazardous microorganisms, many of what I discover break our known understanding of science. The CDC and I agree that releasing the information will be too disruptive to human knowledge, as well as possibly threatening biowarfare. 

With that notion aside, Sam comes in after his football practice every day, excluding the weekends. He has been extraordinarily helpful with filing and cleaning up various messes. When he finishes, he pulls out this journal and scribbles down equations and notes. He says it’s for school. I guess he does need to do his schoolwork at some point in the day. It’s a rather nice book for just schoolwork, however. Leather cover, with what seems to be yellowed pages from age, supposedly this book used to belong to his grandfather. I can tell that he wants to do more in my lab, though. Unfortunately, this is all I have for him as of right now. Considering my expulsion from the organization I worked at prior, getting subjects for experiments doesn’t come as often as I’d like with my independence. However, Sam would have to wait no longer, as a rather peculiar subject was sent by an anonymous sender. 

“So…it’s just…a rat?” 

“Hm…seems so. It looks like the typical mouse bred for lab studies, however I’m unsure if that’s all there is to it. For now, I’ll hold it in containment. You made sure the chamber was free of contaminants, correct?” 

“Yeah, I cleaned it earlier.” 

“Good. We’ll observe the mouse for now.” I release the rat into the containment chamber. It runs around and acts as any rat would. I put some food and water in the chamber as well, as I’m unsure as to when it last ate. It immediately started eating and drinking. 


A good hour has passed since feeding the rat and Sam decided to name it. 

“I would advise not getting attached to it. We may have to dissect it later or what have you.” 

“I’m aware, but still. Maybe naming it would be fun.” 

“If I wanted to name something, I would have another child.” 

“How is Emily, by the way?” 

“She’s with the nanny. She should be fine.” 

“Y’know, the rat reminds me of this book character. You ever read Flowers for Algernon?” 

“Most likely, the name sounds familiar. What about it?” 

“Well there’s this test rat in the book named Algernon and he gets this surgery or something and then dies.” 

“Very detailed description, Sam.” 

“It’s been a while since I read it. Point is, Algernon was a labrat. And this rat is a labrat. So we should name it Algernon.” 

“You could name it Algernon, if you wish. However I will remain unattached.” 

 

I have remained unattached. However, the name Algernon grew on me. I started referring to the mouse as Algernon, as well, after Sam kept referring to it as such. 

“I thought you weren’t going to name it?” 

“It’s unintuitive for you to call it one thing and for me, another.” 

“Fair enough.” 


❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 


It’s been a few day since Algernon arrived when Sam made an observation: 

“Wes, has Algernon pooped or anything while I’ve been gone?” 

“If it has, wouldn’t you know? It’s your job to clean up messes, Sam.” 

“Hmm…” 

“You haven’t cleaned up after it, have you?” 

“Not once. Odd.” 

“Odd indeed. Especially considering the amount of food it eats.” 

Almost as if Algernon had heard us, he released an extraordinary amount of feces. 

“Oh, ew, that’s gross.” 

“It’s rather interesting how such a small body could hold so much. Wait for him to finish, then go clean it.” 

“Uh…” 

“What is it? Is there an issue?” 

“No. Wes, look.” 

Sam was pointing towards the containment chamber. Algernon was taking pieces of feces and bringing it to the center of the room. He was forming a shape. 

“Well, that’s definitely unordinary for a labrat.” 

“D’you see how Algernon is jittering?” 

“Yes, it’s rather unusual. Let’s just observe him for now.” 

“A-Alright.” 

It took about an hour for Algernon, all the while twitching about, to finish what he was forming. 

“An…infinity symbol? That doesn’t make sense.” 

“No. What makes even less sense is how he managed to make the symbol exactly in the center of the room, as well as perpendicular to the walls so that we can see what the symbol is.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. I hadn’t noticed that.” 

“Hm…alright Sam, it’s about 8. You should head home. I’ll watch Algernon for a while longer and you can worry about cleaning this up another time.” 

“A-Alright, have a goodnight Wes. See you tomorrow,” Sam hesitated when speaking. He didn’t want to leave just yet. 

“See you tomorrow, Sam.” 

And then Sam left. After a little while, Algernon stopped jittering, so I entered the chamber to refill his food and water supply, however Algernon was extremely hostile to me, contrary to his attitude prior. When I went to grab his food bowl, he tried to bite my fingers, so I left the bowl alone. 


❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 


I had left Algernon alone for the night. In hindsight, perhaps that was a bad idea. As a researcher, I should know better. However, it seemed Algernon was doing nothing of note anymore. The doorbell rang. 

“One moment, Sam!” I echoed throughout the house. Emily is giving me a particular rough time today, given the nanny running late. I don’t know how to handle a child! I had one to please a woman that died during childbirth! Nonetheless, it is my duty, by law, to care for the child. So I’ll do as I must. The doorbell rang again. 

“He must’ve not heard me,” I sighed. 

I rush downstairs to let Sam in. But to my surprise, it wasn’t Sam. 

“Oh, Joan. Sorry to keep you waiting. I expected you to be much later.” 

“I’m still a few minutes late, Mr. Stevens. I had to call in advance to let you know regardless of the length of time of which I am late.” 

“Well, your call is appreciated. Emily is upstairs in her bed.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Stevens.” 

“Hope she doesn’t give you too much trouble.” And off she went. 


About ten minutes later, Sam arrives. We, together, head down into the basement, to check on Algernon. His food bowl was empty, as I hadn’t filled it. His water was empty, as I hadn’t filled that either. And his body was empty, of a life that he once had. 

“No! Algernon!” Sam rushed into the chamber and crouched by the body. I told him not to get attached. 

Algernon’s lifeless body rested at the intersection of the feces-infinity shape. Once again, perfectly and mathematically parallel to everything else. An odd place to die. Even more so, Algernon’s body was split down the middle of his stomach. Sam grabs Algernon. 

“Sam stop! Touching a deceased creature could pose a threat to your health!” 

“But-” 

“Put the rat down, Sam. Wash your hands immediately.” 

Sam’s shoulders slumped. He walked over to the sink and promptly washed his hands while I examined the chamber. The infinity is intact. However, I noticed a dried blood trail leading to the intersection. Where it came from is the water jug. It’s one that is commonly used for hamsters and other rodents, where they can lap up water from the tip. And it’s along the edge of that very tip where a cluster of dried blood, presumably Algernon’s, could be found. 

“I’m presuming that the rat slit his own stomach.” 

“Algernon did what?” 

“The rat-” 

“Algernon.” 

“Algernon used his own water jug to slit his own stomach and dragged himself to the center of the infinity symbol.” 

 “But- why?” 

“It’s impossible to know. However, I can do an autopsy to see if there’s anything there.” 

“You mean you’re going to cut him up even more than he already is?” 

“It’s my job.” 

“...Fine. Just let me know when so that I can leave the room.” 

“As you must.” 

Sam is a sensitive kid. He wishes to be a scientist, and yet, he struggles with his empathy for living things. That much is apparent. If he wants to make it big in this field, he’s going to need to lose that. 


“Alright Sam, you can come back in.” 

“Does anything look odd to you?” Sam was shielding his eyes from the table where Algernon’s body rested. 

“It seems like his heart rate was erratic for several hours, and his skin seems a little, how do I put this, loose.” 

Sam makes a gagging sound. 

“Aside from that, no. There was nothing wrong with him. Which aligns with a suicide.” 

“But Algernon was a mouse! Why did he do that?” 

“Hmm…I have my running hypotheses. However, one that sounds more likely than the others is: maybe he was forced into this?” 

“What? That doesn’t make any sense. He was in containment.” 

“And yet, he was sent to us anonymously. He made a symbol with his own feces. And when you left yesterday, he acted extremely hostile. Many things here don’t make sense, Sam.” 

“But how would he have been forced, disregarding the fact that he was a mouse?” 

“You lack imagination, Sam. Did I not tell you that what I work with is most commonly subject matter that breaks our known laws of science? Anything can, and will, happen.” 

“I’m just…not sure, Wes. It’s hard to wrap my head around.” 

“Feel free to head home early today, Sam. Regather your thoughts or what have you. However, when you come back, keep in mind that you will have to clean the feces.” 

“Maybe you’re right. I will head home early, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting a pet to die today.” 

I refrain from telling him that Algernon was, once again, a labrat. 

“Have a good weekend, Wes.” 

“Yes, you too.” 

I forgot that the weekend was upon us. Sam doesn’t come in for the weekend. Looks like I’ll be alone for Algernon’s research. 


❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 


I haven’t managed to find anything outstanding about Algernon. The feces proved unhelpful as well, as it was standard rat droppings. I tried researching the symbol, however every source I looked into just referred back to infinity’s numerical significance. Even after looking in some, admittedly unsavory, places, I couldn’t find any relevance on perhaps a cultist meaning behind it and Algernon’s ritualistic-feeling suicide. The doorbell rings. 

 

It’s Sam. Today’s Monday, I forgot. I was engrossed in this mystery and forgot that that was what today was. 

“Welcome back, Sam. Was the weekend enough to recuperate?” 

“Yeah, it-it was. Thanks.” 

Odd. Sam was seemingly nervous. Maybe that’s unrelated to us. It could have just been a school issue. But not only that, he seemed…twitchy. 

“Are you alright, Sam?” 

“Of course, why-why wouldn’t I be?” 

“...If you say so. As to update you on Algernon’s situation: I still have failed to find any significance regarding Algernon’s death. So I feel as if we should put this situation on hiatus for now. We aren’t getting any further, so it might be best to work on something else for now.” 

“Ok-Okay.” 

“If you’ll give me a moment, my apologies Sam, the nanny hasn’t arrived yet and I need to keep an eye on Emily to ensure she is out of trouble. Feel free to start cleaning downstairs.” 

“I will-will, Wes.” 

 

I can’t get over Sam’s odd behavior. The stutter was peculiar. His demeanor was off. Perhaps school really shook him up today. I’ll be sure to ask him about it later; small talk, if you will. 

“Emily? What’re you doing?” 

“I’m coloring, daddy.” 

“Hm, and what might you be drawing, daughter?” 

“Me and Joan, daddy.” 

“That’s sweet, daughter, I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” 

“Do you like it?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“My drawing. Is it good?” 

“I’m afraid it’s rather rudimentary, Emily. But you have many years of practice to come before you can make something ‘good.’” 

Emily started to tear up. 

“What’s the matter, daughter?” 

“You don’t like my drawing…” 

“I never said I didn’t like it. I said it wasn’t good.” 

Emily started to bawl. The doorbell rings. 

“One second, dear. Daddy has to go get the door.” 

She keeps sobbing. 


I open the door for the nanny. She can hear Emily’s crying. 

“Oh no, what’s the matter with Emily?” 

“She drew something poorly and I told her as much when she asked if it was good.” 

The nanny gives me a shocked look, preceding a dirty one. 

“Mr. Stevens, you can’t tell your daughter that!” 

“I don’t see an issue, Joan.” 

Joan sighs. “That’s why I’m here. I’ll go tend to your daughter now, if you don’t mind.” 

“Not in the slightest, that’s why I’ve hired you. Don’t let her give you too much trouble.” 

The nanny doesn’t look at me again. She hurries upstairs to, assumingly, comfort Emily. I don’t understand Emily’s sadness. I truly am unfit to be a father, it seems. 


I enter the basement and find Sam staring into his notebook. 

“You’ve finished cleaning already?” 

“Yes.” 

I take a look into the containment chamber. It’s as if nothing ever happened here. As is expected. 

“Excellent work. Have you considered a position in being a janitor?” 

Sam doesn’t respond. 

“Sam, did anything negative affect you at school today?” 

“No-No.” 

I can’t force him to speak. Or perhaps nothing really did happen. I look around the room for a new assignment. 

“Where is Algernon’s body?” 

“I took car-care of it.” 

“I thought you were repulsed by the sight of the body?” 

“I got-got over it-it.” 

“Do you mind telling me where you disposed of the body?” 

“In the-the garbage out-outside.” 

Very well. I didn’t want the stench of a rotting body to cause the lab to need aeration. 

“What are you currently working on?” 

“School.” 

I walk closer to Sam. 

“Are you positive, Sam? You’ve been staring at that book of yours.” 

“Yes-yes.” 

I walk closer. 

“Sam, there’s nothing written in your book.” 

“Yes-yes there is-is.” 

I’m looking at a blank page. He’s looking at a blank page. Truly unusual. 

“Sam, there is not.” 

“Yes there is!” Sam snaps at me, all the while not unlocking gaze from the pages. 

“Very well. Do you mind if I-” I reach my hand out to grab the book. 

“DON’T TOUCH THAT,” Sam hits my hand away and picks the book up with his other hand, holding it away from me. 

On the cover of the book was something that was absent before. 

“Sam, why do you have the infinity symbol etched into the cover of your book?” 

Sam doesn’t respond. 

“Sam, what's the issue?” 

Sam doesn’t respond. 

“Sam, look at me. I am concerned about you currently.” 

“I’m do-doing schoolwork-” Sam starts coughing. Out of his mouth he shoots a little white clump of fur onto the table. 

“Sam.” 

Sam doesn’t respond. He’s staring at the fur. 

“Sam, did you-” 

Sam jolts out of his chair and hurls his fist into my cheek. I’m stunned. Sam rushes out of the room, book in hand. 

“Come, Emily. Quickly.” 

“Daddy, why are we going to the library?” 

“We’re going on a little trip, daughter.” 

“I don’t want to go to the library…” 

“This is important business for daddy, dear. And Joan is taking a mandatory vacation leave so daddy can’t leave you at home. That’s child endangerment.” 

“I don’t know what that is.” 

“I know dear.” 

Yesterday, Sam was arrested for holding and assaulting a hostage in this library. I have yet to find out the cause of this sudden aggression. I’m sure it has something to do with that rat, however. Perhaps his mental state was shattered, however I doubt his mentality is so fragile that the loss of a labrat would toss him into a fit of rage. There’s more to it, however. The implication of Sam consuming Algernon, as well as his twitches, leads me to believe there’s some connection between Sam’s behavior and Algernon’s condition. 

When I think about it, the similarities become plain, leading me to believe that I should’ve realized this sooner. No time to dwell on the past, however, science waits for no one. Sam and Algernon both exhibited spontaneous twitches, as well as a subsequent hostile behavior. On top of that, Algernon was always hungry, eating every ounce of food we gave him. If Sam did eat Algernon, then we can assume that the hunger was the same as Algernon’s. This leads me to believe that Algernon was infected with some sort of virus, then passing it on to Sam once he went to handle the corpse or clean the containment chamber. Because of this, I- 

“Daddy?” 

“Hm?” 

“Daddy, why aren’t we going in?” 

Lost in thought, again. Supposedly I had stopped us right ahead of the front doors. 

“My mistake, daughter. I was just taking a moment to myself.” 

Emily shuffles uncomfortably. 

I enter the library with Emily in tow, before quickly being stopped by a presumed member of the security staff. 

“Excuse me, you’re not allowed to be here right now. This is a crime scene.” 

I flashed a police badge at him. It’s not mine, of course, however the CDC was able to pull some strings one day to ensure I’d be able to complete my research regardless of environmental conditions. 

“That’s precisely why we’re here.” 

“O-Oh, my bad officer. Come on in.” 

“No worries, I’m not in uniform.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking, why do you have a kid with you?” 

“Bring your child to work day.” 

“Ah—okay.” 

The security guard moves aside to let us in and we stroll into the scene of the crime. 

“Daddy is a cop?” 

“For today, Emily, I am.” 

“Can I be a cop too?” 

“If you’d like. Who am I to stop you?” 

Emily started laughing and ran off into the labyrinth of books, pretending as if she was chasing a criminal. It gives her something to do. 

I don’t know what I’m looking for. I just need an ounce of subject matter. Something from Sam that perhaps fell off his body. Anything, really. Just so that I could examine it. See if there’s any peculiar microorganisms on it or what have you. 


❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 


I didn’t manage to find anything. A useless waste of my time. There was a blood stain, however upon further examination, it was somebody else’s. 

Our next stop is the juvenile detention center. I am aware of the nature of the facility and how it might look to bring a child into it, however I mustn't leave her alone, as she is too ignorant to fend for herself. My failing as a parent, clearly. Anyhow, she comes with. 


“Sir, you are aware that this is an unsafe space for a child of that age, right?” 

“I am fully aware.” 

The officer shrugs. 

“Alright, the kid you’re looking for will be brought to the visitor’s area shortly. Pick a seat and you can wait for him.” 

And I do as such. 

“This place is scary…” 

“I’m aware, Emily.” 

“Can we go home?” 

“Shortly, daughter.” 

“Remember, there are security cameras watching you, so don’t try anything stupid.” This voice was coming from an officer. He was allowing Sam to enter the visitors room. 

“Hello, Sam.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I’m here to ask you about your outburst and what might have caused it.” 

“Sam, you’re an aspiring scientist, correct?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Tell me, did you not realize the parallels between you and Algernon?” 

“Don’t talk to me about Algernon.” 

“Sam, I hope to help you, not harm you.” 

“You want to harm Algernon!” 

“Why would I want to harm a deceased rat?” 

“Algernon is not a rat. He is…” Sam spaced out for a second. 

“Algernon is…beautiful.” Sam flung his hands up in the air in a praising position. 

“Excuse me?” 

“He is what now?” 

It was at this moment I noticed the marks on Sam’s arms. Cuts. Cuts in the shape of the infinity loop. 

“Sam why have you carved the infinity symbol into your arms?” 

“Algernon told me to.” 

“How is a rat speaking to-” 

“HE IS NOT A RAT.” 

Emily looks scared. 

“...How is Algernon speaking to you?” 

“Through my book. When I still had it. I hope he’ll speak to me again…” 

“Your…blank book?” 

“It’s not blank. Algernon wrote in the most beautiful calligraphy…” 

“Hallucinations…” I mumbled to myself. 

“Sam, you said ‘when you still had it,’ correct? What happened to your book?” 

“I…uh…I wish I knew. I wish I knew.” Sam stood up, “I wish I knew. I wish I knew!” Sam started banging on the screen that divided us, “I WISH I KNEW I WISH I KNEW I WISH I KNEW.” 

Emily has started to cry. 

“That’s it, kid. Time for you to head back.” An officer has entered the room again. 

“WHERE’S MY BOOK WHERE’S MY BOOK-” 

“Kid, again, you didn’t arrive with a book.” 

“NO, YOU MUST HAVE IT. WHERE’S ALGERNON?” 


❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 


“We have gathered, today, to honor Samuel Matthews. While, towards the end of his life, he became unwell due to unknown causes, before that he was a special kid with a bright future ahead of him.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Matthews are sobbing. They blame me. They’ve made this known previously, mentioning “how dare I show my face here” and whatnot. I, of course, redirected them to the contract Sam signed. 

“He will be dearly missed. He left behind his family, friends, siblings, as well as employer, of which he was the only employee.” 

While this is sad, and I do truly miss Sam, I feel like his suicide is just another step towards getting closer to Algernon. He was a smart kid, really, and I saw potential with him. Plus, his help was appreciated. 

“He played football after schools, following with him attending his internship under the wing of Mr. Stevens in hopes of going into the field of biology once he graduated.” 

Maybe Sam’s death would’ve impacted me more if I hadn’t expected it to happen. However, following the patterns of leading up to Algernon’s suicide, this was the next step Sam would take. 

“He had scholarships lined up, with the potential of a full ride at several universities.” 

I never found the book. While I visited the library again and searched extensively, I didn’t manage to find it. One thing of note is Sam’s cellmates. I interviewed them earlier this week to see if they noticed anything peculiar about him. To my surprise, they had, aside from his hostility and cult-like praise of the presumed-virus Algernon. They said that the night before his death, he looked like his skin was too big for his body, like he could take it off, or like it was loose. As well as one of them mentioning how they could’ve sworn it looked like something was living under his skin. Perhaps this was the virus reaching a head? Perhaps instead of a virus, Algernon is more so a parasite. Perhaps it’s neither and is an entity beyond man's understanding of the animal kingdom? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve encountered something like that. 

I’m embarrassed that I overlooked that part of the rat’s death. The loose skin, of course there could’ve been more to it, but I took it as a sign of decay. Clearly it’s not just that, seeing as Sam had similar symptoms. 

“Sam was a wonderful man and an excellent son, and I think it’s safe to say that everyone present will miss him dearly.” 

The author's comments:

This one gets dark. 

The doorbell rings. I look out the peephole to see who it is: the police. Alright, Wesley, time to put on the facade that you’re an average suburban father. Can’t have them snooping into the basement. 

“How can I help you, officers?” 

“We’re here to see Emily Stevens. Is she here?” The older of the two officers was doing the talking. The second must be relatively new. 

“Ah, yes she is. Is she in trouble?” 

“Not currently; do you mind if we speak with her?” 

“Uh…yeah. She’s in her room. Would you like me to call her down?” 

Completely changing my mannerisms on the dime can be rough at times, however, with the research that I do, I’ve had to adapt and become able to act more stereotypical. Especially after Sam’s death all those years ago. The police threatened an investigation against me at one point, however they couldn’t get a warrant. Apparently the parents wanted the police to watch me, out of suspicion that I did something to Sam. That’s all in the past, now. The police haven’t visited in a while at this point. 

“That won’t be necessary. We’d like to speak to her privately, if that’s alright.” 

“Yes, yes, of course officer. Let me show you to her room.” 

I lead the two officers up to Emily’s room. I didn’t expect for her to get into difficulties with the law. However, I mostly leave her to her own devices, so I estimate there’s a possibility. 

“Honey, you have some visitors, can we come in?” 

“Yeah!” 

I open the door for the officers. 

“Honey, this is officer…err…” 

“Whitewater.” 

“Officer Whitewater and officer…” 

“Derebottom.” 

“Yeah. They’re here to speak with you. So I’m gonna step out and let you three talk, alright?” 

“I’m not in trouble am I?” 

“Uh, I’m not sure. Talk to the officers, ‘kay sweetie?” 

Ugh. Speaking like a doting parent puts a rotten taste in my mouth. Emily is well aware of the persona I present to the public at this point. She’s heard it all her life, after all. 


The officers leave, apparently unable to find anything on her. I go back into Emily’s room to question her on it. 

“What purpose did this visit serve, daughter?” 

“Ugh, they just thought I wanted to bomb the school or something.” 

“If you were to, make sure you allow me to check your work on the bomb.” 

Emily laughs, “Dad! I didn’t know you could make jokes!” 

“What are you referring to? Bomb creation is a fickle subject.” 

Emily’s smile returned back to her usual neutral face, “Oh. I’m not actually bombing the school.” 

“Mhm. Make sure you make yourself an adequate meal for dinner.” 

“...Yeah. Okay, Dad.” I leave her room. 


❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ 


A loud crash comes from upstairs. I’m sure everything is going well. However, there’s a creeping feeling that I don’t usually get that compels me to go up there. Maybe it’s just old age. Regardless, I came upstairs and opened Emily’s bedroom door. 

“Oh my gosh! Dad! Don’t you ever knock?” 

Emily is…disfigured. Not horrendously. But her body is contorted. 

“Is th-there an issue? He-hellooo?” 

There are scorch marks on the carpet. Recently melted wax as well. Candles are formed in a circle. Unlit. 

“Da-Da-Dad!” 

In the middle of the circle stands Emily’s mangled body. Underneath her: the book. Same blank pages. Same red leather cover. Same infinity symbol etched into the cover. 

“Where did you obtain that?” 

“Wh-What do you me-mean?” 

“Stop speaking like that. Why do you have this book, Emily.” 

Emily convulsed for a moment. I make a motion for the book 

“D-DoN’T ToUCh TH-THaT-THAT.” 

She hurls her form onto the book to remove it from my reach. It is now that I see her whole form. Limp skin, hanging loosely from her bones. A motion underneath her skin, similar to that of a parasyte. Her hair was frayed. Her jaw appears wider and about to come apart. All of her joints crooked. She looks like a creature from a horror film. Drool is seeping from her gaping jaw. Her eyes leaked tears. Her arms and legs are covered in scars of the infinity loop. 

“Emily, give me that book if you know what’s best for you.” I reached out again, despite her mass being atop the book. 

“GeT AWAy FrOM iT.” Emily’s words are gargled. 

I realized it’s too late for her. She’s beyond the point of no return, far more than Sam was when he exhibited symptoms. 

“Emily, I am your father and you will listen to me when I speak to you.” 

“YoU’Re nOT MY FAthER. AlGERNoN is thE OnLY maN to lOvE ME aS sUcH.” 

“How do you know that name?” 

“YOu NEvER LOVeD mE.” 

“Emily, get away from that book.” 

“YOu NEVER LOVeD ME.” 

“Emily, I said get away from the book. You’re ill.” 

“YOU NEVER LOVED ME.” 

Emily pounced on me as if she were a cat and I was a mouse. She’s the closest anyone has ever come to being a cat. Inappropriate timing, but a smile comes to my face. Emily spreads her jaw wide and latches onto my shoulder. She tears a chunk of flesh out. 

This is my reality. I make extraordinary scientific discoveries weekly. Emily takes another bite, clamping down on my arm this time. I haven’t taken the proper precautionary measures to disallow this from spreading to people, albeit it only appears to have one host at a time. Emily tears my arm off and devours the tissue like a rib, swallowing the bone when she’s done. 

Despite my helplessness underneath Emily’s body, she still hasn’t become the cat. A cat would never be controlled by something as simple as a supernatural parasyte. Emily moves to my stomach and proceeds as she has been. 

No, there is only one cat among this world of mice. Emily opens her mouth wider than she has before and places it over my head. There’s only one cat, one true cat. Emily applies immense pressure on my skull, easily drawing blood, soon to penetrate the bone, and inevitably, my brain. Among all these stupid, idiotic mice, regardless of what they call themselves, that being a scientist, or a politician, or a doctor, there’s only one cat. Only one. And his name is Algernon. 



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