Notes

Cellbit’s heart sinks into his stomach. There are hundreds upon hundreds of cases– they go as far as the eye can see. He takes a step closer, and finds himself staring at another human person. They don’t stare back, they hardly do much of anything. These people here will sleep for the rest of eternity, or as long as the laboratory is running. Even when it shuts down, they will still be here for eternity.

He slowly walks by each and every one. They’re stacked, so he can’t see all the names like he wishes he could. He stops at one in particular, with no particular reason why. He reads the plaque at the front: Phil Sinfonia-Craft. It’s a simple name, really. From what Cellbit can see, he’s a simple man too. With straw blonde hair and regular features.

Once he’s decided that he’s spent enough time looking at this particular person, he moves on. And oh how his heart ackes. Directly next to Phil Sinfonia-Craft is Missa Sinfonia-Craft. This person has longer black hair, and seems more at peace than the other. It hits him then that these are all people. People with lives and feelings and loved ones, like the two in front of him. They both donated their bodies to science, and then were never able to see the light of day ever again.

He wonders when they decided to join. Was it in the early 1950’s when the company was thriving? Or was it closer to the 80’s, when both parties were desperate for money? Cellbit will never know unless he took extensive work to find out. With how vast this whole place was, there were got to be files somewhere.

He feels sick looking at all these people. And the more he stares, the more bile rises in his throat. It’s only when he can practically feel himself go green that he looks down. Then he walks back to where he started, hoping nothing will catch up to him with how long he stood still.