"So let me understand why, Miss...?" The nurse asked.
"Cooper. Shelley Cooper."
"Ah yes, Miss Cooper. Why are you willing to go through with this procedure?"
Shelly, a tall strawberry blonde with a slight gleam left in her eyes, was sullen. She squirmed in her seat. It's not every day that a person is asked why they're willing to give up their body for science.
"It's cancer. Ewing Sarcoma to be exact, you have all my charts. It's into my muscles and chemo with medication has done nothing. The doctors all tell me I have less than a month at this point. They made it clear I was going to die in extreme pain and it's just now starting to hurt. Keeps me awake some nights. Then I heard of your work here, and I want you to use me as you see fit."
The nurse looked up through her glasses. "You realize the process is specifically designed to end your life for study of your body afterwards, right?"
Shelly gulped. Of course she knew this but nobody had been so matter-of-factly about it. "Yes. I'm going to die anyway. I want it to be on my terms. How far along your study are you?"
The nurse thumbed through a journal. "I think we're almost done," she murmured. "We'll need one more subject after you but these days it's not tough to find willing young ladies. We successfully processed a subject two hours ago. She's still on the table waiting for her autopsy right now."
Shelley again cringed. The image of her lying naked and dead on a table for the doctors to cut open made her slightly sick to the stomach. The nurse typed something into her computer and handed Shelley a five-page form. "Read this. Carefully, because once you sign it, you've signed over yourself to the project and your life will end today."
She looked through the working as careful as she could. Her hands shook but she focused on what the doctors had told her. They offered the new "blue pill" for her to end her own life, but she had heard horror stories about people twitching away as they suffocated while the hospital staff just watched on. Everyone told her that if she was to go, this was the best way. She looked up and grabbed a pen. "What about my family? Will they-"
The nurse never looked up. "You can choose how your remains will be sent back. I strongly suggest cremation afterward."
Shelley was told to go to the bathroom, where she threw up. It happened a lot these days and she wasn't sure if was the cancer killing her or the procedure she just signed up for that was going to kill her faster. The nurse had given her a robe and told Shelley to throw her belongings into a container. She knew it was going to go straight into the trash. They needed her body and nothing else. She had left her keys in the ignition of her car, unlocked, nearby. She slowly undressed and tossed her things in the can. She stared at herself in the mirror one last time. The chemo hadn't taken her hair and while she was feeling almost constant pain, the disease hadn't taken its toll on her looks yet. She was thin, with a dancer's build, and medium sized round, perky breasts. She had shaved her public area like she had been told ahead of time to do. She continued to stare, realizing she had just donated her body to someone else and that before the sun went down, she would be no more. She slid into the robe but didn't fasten in at the front. Opening the door, she felt weak in the knees, again unsure if the disease or the fear was in control.
The nurse had told her to walk to door number 5. Walking past several closed doors, she passed one opened a few inches. Curious, she pushed it open and said a lovely young woman, blonde with an amazing figure, lying on a table. She was naked and strapped down, drenched. Several machines with tubes were nearby. The girl looked so at peace, Shelley wanted to walk in and see if she was alive or not.
The orderly startled her. "I'm sorry miss, come this way please."
Shelley was led to a room just like the one she had just seen. An examination table was surrounded by several large medical devices of different types. Shelley realized this was for her. She felt the butterflies in her stomach again. She turned to the orderly, "Tell me again what research you're getting out of this?"
The orderly look up from fiddling with a large computer screen. "Oh, we've been commissioned by the Justice Department to research humane forms of execution. We have this one figured out; we just needed a dozen test subjects. It all came about as an accident. Someone was running a study on repetitive orgasms in women and one subject expired. She was on Sacralon, probably addicted. Her body was so wired for touch, the project shut down her body while in orgasm. Poor girl had no idea she was dying and probably didn't care at the time. We realized with better drugs, we could make the experience more intense, more pleasurable and quicker. We want to create an experience the subject wants to experience. And with suicide now legal, people are looking for other forms of termination than the damned blue pill you read about. I'd rather put a gun to my head than go out like that, paralyzed and suffocating."
Adjusting a monitor, he looked up and grinned. "Odd, once word got out, it wasn't that tough to find people willing to participate. The last one you just saw, she suffered from depression something terrible. She was smiling as she went."
Shelley started to have a panic reaction, but the orderly had already locked the door. He adjusted one more device and said, "Okay, Miss Cooper, please disrobe and lay on the table."
She backed into a corner, panic well set in. She kept mouthing the word, "No," but no sound came out. The orderly walked over and grabbed her by the shoulder. Not rough, but like how a father would reason with a child, "Miss," the orderly said, "You've already signed the authorization. You had the week to think it over and it's time. I've read your chart, and we both know this is what is best for you."
He guided her onto the table, picked her up and laid her down onto the table. He told her that she would need to be restrained for the procedure. She let him cuff her right wrist and ankle to the table, but when we cuffed her left wrist, she started to struggle. When she saw her left ankle would be cuffed so she'd be spread-eagle like she saw the other woman, she started writhing in her bonds. The orderly tried to calm her down but with little success. Soon, she was laying spread legged, naked on the table. She struggled against the straps. The orderly sent for the doctor who showed up quickly.
"Miss Cooper, I know this is scary, but you're going to enjoy this, I swear. This procedure isn't painful at all, and it's going to be the most incredible experience you've ever had."