<span style="font-size: 250%">Conversion</span> In reading: //Conversion// is a story in which you follow a storyline and are often given choices to control your character. With every choice, there are paths you can go down. When you reach the end, there will be a link back to the beginning so you can explore all the different choices and pages in the story. This story is best when played in the Safari browser in order for all of its effects to work. //Conversion// is also best read with your sound on and with headphones to be fully immersed into the story. Warnings: This story addresses fictional, yet incredibly intense and potentially triggering themes and situations. [[Begin->Begin]]A tray plops down in front of me, next a tall brunet. When I look up, I notice the gray band on his shirt. //The newbie from class.// He looks S-9 and I over almost whimsically. There's something cheerful in his eyes... //Fuck, he has no idea.// "How the hell do you survive in this place?" the brunet intrduces, waving his plastic fork around over his shoulder. I shoot a glance to S-9, he's looking down at his mashed potatoes his dismay. "Here we go again." My eyebrows scunch up as I look over the stranger over. My brain twitches when I meet his eyes. //Can brains twitch? What the hell?// "You're new here right?" The brunet nods. "They brought me in yesterday." A pained smile tugs at my lips when I look at the newbie. "You don't, congrats. Welcome to [[hell->Hell]]."He's a goner." I raise an eyebrow at S-9. "Aren't we all goners?" He cuts his eyes at me as we walk past a guard. I smile at the robotic red eyes inside it's metal skull and give the guard a small wave. "How you aren't dead yet is beyond me. You know those things can hear you, right," S-9 whispers once we're out of earshot. "Those //things// are just people S, of course they can hear you. They're shells." "Shells that could fucking kill you if you look at them funny." "Bold of you to assume everything I do isn't funny." S-9 follows behind me down the hallway, tucking his hands into his pockets. I can see his bug eyes trying to find some eavesdropper waiting to report us through his glasses. "Would you calm down, dude. We'll be fine," I assure him. "You've been here longer than me, you'd think you'd be more used to this stuff." S-9 finally looks over at me, there's something in his eyes I can't figure out yet. Something wrong. "Two months, five months, eleven months. Years. It don't matter, L. You can't get used to this stuff. That's the point. Same reason that new kids gonna end up god knows where with that open [[attitude->Guard]]."<iframe width="0" height="0" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/OlrnABUcyzE?autoplay=1"></iframe> "Unstable No.L-018," follows the metal boots behind S-9 and I. I turn around and look up at the guard. Thing's gotta be well over two feet taller than me. Maybe more? Red eyes bright enough to scare the shit out of any newbie. "You're wanted to treatment in Ward 008." The voice is human. They always are. After first coming here, I used to try and imagine what the guy controlling this thing on the other side must look like. Almost humanizes 'em. I see S-9's shoulders slump out of the corner of my eye. "Unstable No.S-940, please vacate the premises." He shoots me a reassuring smile before he takes off away from the metal [[clunker->Condemed]]. <iframe width="1120" height="630" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/17u01_sWjRE?autoplay=1"></iframe> [[Continue.->No.W-184]]<iframe width="0" height="0" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/fO3mrrfkhjs?autoplay=1"></iframe> The guard bulky hand sinks into my shoulder and forces me down into the metal chair. With the push of a button on the back of my chair, metal latches link around my arms and legs. My foot begins to feel tingly as I realize I can't move it. //Greeeaaat. Just great.// I glance over and see two other chairs set up with two guards behind them. On the far end off our little row, P-284, a eleven-year-old I met in my early months here. He's young to be here, I remember my shock when I saw him for the first time. He's funny though, I'll give him that. No wonder he's in here... In the middle, Newbie. Newbie? Oh, orientation treatment. Good for him. He glances over and catches me staring. My cheeks start to tingle with fire as my eyes widen. "Welcome to hell, huh?" The guard behind his chair forces his head back to face the front. "You do not talk until spoken to in your treatments," it speaks dully. Finally, the TV in front of us flickers to life. First, it's a blue screen with the facility's logo on it. Then the voice comes on. It takes every muscle in my to not let my head fall back and groan. "Welcome to your orientation treatment, Unstable No.W-184. We proudly welcome you to the Inglewood Institution! The purpose of this video is to make you fully aware of where your instability stems from, and to show you what habits we will condition out of you during your stay. "Unstables No.P-284 and No.L-018, you are here to assist No.W-184 on his journey and for enrichment purposed based on previously exhibited behaviors. "Please [[enjoy->Propaganda]]."//Welcome to Inglewood Institution for the Unstable Youth. Here, we will work tirelessly to ensure you experience a pleasent and fulfilling life at the institution. We will strive to help you embrace a life of stability and purity. Please select what class you would like to begin with.// [[History->Class1]] [[Religion->Class2]]Bolts of static jump through my leg everytime my heel hits the ground, making small tapping noises on the floor. My friend, S-9, shoots me an annoyed glare at the noise. At the front of the room, over all the other heads and desks around me, the projector sparks to life. A female professor appears seconds later. She's dressed in white and holding up a book on the adaption of our nation. "Alright class, let's get started, shall we?" she finally speaks, looking over the class she can't actually see. "Today we will discuss the beginning of the Pletrin Regime and their resurgance of Christianity within America. "As you all know, three hundred years ago, Americans called for a return to the values this nation was founded on. Leonard Pletrin entered a presidential race and won two terms in a row. He recognized how much our nation truly needed his rule and dismantled America's former, disjointed government. "However, this is just the basics. The largest cause for returning to the beliefs America was founded on was bringing back the importance of Christianity. You all can look anywhere in this facility and see the top of the line technology which you've been provided. Technology is the pinnacle of our society, but centuries ago, citizens buried their religious practices in their machines. In their idea of what identity is. In their idea of what love is. They lost their way. They lost God. They were unstable." This time I feel the static shoot down my spine and I shiver at the feeling. S-9 notices how she says the word too, I see him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. "You young people, unfortunately, have been genetically been based these unstable gene that we once thought had died ou-" I tune her out and start looking around. Same white walls, white clothes, white shoes. Same people who all look bored out of their minds. Wait... I see a guy sitting in the front row by the door. His white shirt has a grey band around the write arm. //A newbie. Haven't seen one of those in awhile.// I try to catch a better look at him other than just the brown hair on the back of his head. //I wonder if he's-// S-9 nudges my leg with his, and when I turn back he's glaring at me. He's like a mind reader I [[swear->Lunch]].Bolts of static jump through my leg everytime my heel hits the ground, making small tapping noises on the floor. My friend, S-9, shoots me an annoyed glare at the noise. At the front of the room, over all the other heads and desks around me, the projector sparks to life. A female professor appears seconds later. She's dressed in white and holding up a book on the adaption of our nation. "Alright class, let's get started, shall we?" she finally speaks, looking over the class she can't actually see. "Today we will discuss the beginning of the next generation of Christianity under the Pletrin Regime "As you all know, three hundred years ago, Americans called for a return to the values this nation was founded on. Leonard Pletrin entered a presidential race and won two terms in a row. He recognized how much our nation needed some form of foundation. As a solution, he turned to religion. "However, this is just the basics. Leonard Pletrin did not come up with the idea all on his own. Americans had been craving the return of religion for decades. Leonard Pletrin, however, was the only one who made it happen. You all can look anywhere in this facility and see the top of the line technology which you've been provided. Technology is the pinnacle of our society, but centuries ago, citizens buried their religious practices in their machines. In their idea of what identity is. In their idea of what love is. They lost their way. They lost God. They were unstable." This time I feel the static shoot down my spine and I shiver at the feeling. S-9 notices how she says the word too, I see him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. "You young people, unfortunately, have been genetically been based these unstable gene that we once thought had died ou-" I tune her out and start looking around. Same white walls, white clothes, white shoes. Same people who all look bored out of their minds. Wait... I see a guy sitting in the front row by the door. His white shirt has a grey band around the write arm. //A newbie. Haven't seen one of those in awhile.// I try to catch a better look at him other than just the brown hair on the back of his head. //I wonder if he's-// S-9 nudges my leg with his, and when I turn back he's glaring at me. He's like a mind reader I [[swear->Lunch]].I try to rub away the dull pain in my wrist after leaving the treatment room. When I hear footsteps coming up behind me, I swing around with a smirk, assuming its S-9. W-184, standing there, smirking back at me. There's a twinkle in his eyes that I can only assume means he thinks all of this is a joke. That look in a newbie's eyes might be scarier than any torture this place could show me. "So, you're 'to assist me on a journey', huh? Like the lady in the TV said?" My face contorts in confusion, I feel pretty much everything scrunch up. "What? That? Fuck dude, they say that to everyone here. I'm not your big brother or some shit, I fucked up and they put me in there. That's it." The brunet steps closer to me and my face heats up with that same feeling from in the interrogation room. //Fuck has it really been this long since I've been hit on?// "You know, you don't have to call me 'dude', you can just call me Will." The tomatos on my cheeks immediately switch from embarrassment to panic. "How about you tell me your name, what is it? L-something?" "I-I, uhh, I, we-" "We?" His smirk gets bigger somehow and I don't fucking know how. My chest starts pumping, my throat burns from breathing. "You're really not supposed to tell me that. Like, believe me. I get it, dude. Y-you wanna make friends. I'm all for the rebellious teen thing, but like, don't fuck with these people." [[Why not?->Fucked up.]]"Unstables No.W-184 and L-018, please seperate and report to your respective living quarters," a female voice says over the speakers. //Fuck.// I step back and look up at the white ceiling, there's a speaker in it right above us. Part of me doesn't remember the last time I heard specific callouts over the speakers. W-184, Will? A shiver hits my spine just thinking his name, like maybe there's someone in this damn place that can read my mind. When I look back at him, he's staring up at the ceiling, eyebrows knitted together in what I can only assume is confusion. Maybe he's just trying to find someway to taunt the feminine voice or make this worse or... //Would worse be so bad?// //Fuck, yes it would.// I can feel the thoughts bouncing around in my brain like some musclely bouncey castle. I can't think straight when I look at him. I don't know what he's thinking, what I'm thinking. What the hell is [[happening->Leave]]?<iframe width="0" height="0" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/euCViLHKFrk?autoplay=1"></iframe> (css: "color: white;")[ I track the seconds hand on the clock across from my bed. I try to count the ticks every minute. Like counting sheep I guess. The sheet scrunch up into my balled fists as I try to calm all the racing thoughts in my head, just pretend they don't exist. The ticking only makes it worse. A countdown to the next time he tries something and I turn into a tomato. A countdown to the next class. The next treatment. The punishment for yesterday's callout on the speakers. The thin white quilt over my bed keeps me weighted down, from running. //God this is embarrassing. Why am I reacting like this? What the fuck are they gonna do to [[me->Stories]]?// ]<iframe width="0" height="0" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/euCViLHKFrk?autoplay=1"></iframe> (css: "color: white;")[ I met S-58 on my first day here. He came in with me. He was loud and proud. Kind of a pain but he meant well. I haven't seen him since a week after we got here. Ten and a half months ago now? Half the people that knew him say he's been in solitary this whole time. The other half thinks they just killed him I remember when J-3 came back from treatment three months ago after he refused to have sex with one of the female unstables they bring over from the girl's instituation. Nobody fully understood what they did to him. One of the older unstables who'd managed to get a few years of high school in before getting sent here said they called it a "Lobotomy". They cut off a part of your brain, the part that causes emotions or emotion-fueled choices. He didn't make any sense. Couldn't talk. Could barely keep his eyes open. J-3 died two days after he came back with a huge, untreated scar on his head. The guards made us look at him as a [[warning->Will]]. ] <iframe width="0" height="0" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/euCViLHKFrk?autoplay=1"></iframe> (css: "color: white;")[ I snap out of my thoughts when I hear my door opening. A shot of adrenaline bursts through me as I bolt up. They never take people at night for treatment. It's always during the day. //Did I fuck up that bad?// "L?" My eyes adjust to the darkness in my doorway and I notice a head of brown hair and a shirt that I can faintly make out a gray line on. "Will? What the hell are you doing here? How did you get through the room locks?" The edge of my matress sinks as Will sits down on it. I can faintly see his raised eyebrow in the darkness. "Locked doors? Mine and yours were open." //A test. They're testing us. They're testing us and we're failing. And they're going to kill or lobotomize me.// "Do you remember your life before here?" Will snaps me out of my thoughts. It might be the most sincere question he's asked me since arriving here. "How long have you been here anyway?" I try to form words but instead my mouth dries out. From embarassment or confusion... I'm not really sure. I nod, "I, uh, I've been here almost a year. I remember everything before." "How'd your folks find out that you had it?" All the adrenaline and pumping blood in me freezes. I can't remember the last time someone asked me about my past or how it all happened. Outside of punishments anyway. "My sister saw me kiss a boy after school one day." "Your sister ratted you out?" I can only nod in response. "Shit, man." "What about you?" Its his turn to be confused as he looks over at me. "Said they 'just knew'. In their defense they weren't wrong, but it still sucks." "Yeah." All I hear is the clock ticking in my ears through the pause in [[conversation->Will2]].]<iframe width="0" height="0" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/euCViLHKFrk?autoplay=1"></iframe> (css: "color: white;")[ "What the hell is up with this place anyway? The guards, the computer teachers? Hell even the lunch ladies are robots." I can't help but laugh at him. "They think we have some kind of contagious disease dude. Why do you think you got sent here in the first place? Or that the people who come to bring you here come in metal hazmat suits. People think if they touch you or vice versa, they'll get infected and become unstable." I watch a grimace spread across his face and his nose crinkle up. I can't help but laugh at the sight. "Isn't that just the shit the regime feeds these people?" "You shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you. People wanna keep their rights. If throwing your sick kid in a correctional institution is supposed to keep up your societal status, why not?" Will groans, "Fuck man, you're startingto sound like one of them." He falls back across my bed, bouncing off it a few times from the pressure. Its comical watching him try to understand things, especially considering he seems older than me. He just seems confused is all, like the only way to understand is to push some kind of boundary. S-9 would call me such a hypocrite if I judged this guy for that... "Lee." "Huh?" "My name's [[Lee->Boundaries]]." ](css: "color: white;")[ He looks over at me from the edge of the bed and squints his eyes at me. "Lee," he tries. "Leeee." I raise an eyebrow at him. He pops back up into a sitting position and faces me on the bed. "I like it!" I chuckle quietly. "Thank you?" "So now that we're on a first name basis. Are personal questions allowed?" "The first question you asked me was about my life before this facility. How much more personal can you get?" "Did you like kissing guys?" My shoulders slouch down and I drop my head. "No, I just kiss them so I can get sent to looney asylums that make me have sex with girls and shock my brain if I think about men." He stares at me for a few seconds to gauge the seriousness in my voice. "So, technically speaking, if you kiss a guy you get sent to the institution. So, there's no punishment if I do this?" Cue brain short [[circuits->Unstable Actions]].](css: "color: white;")[ There's a warm pair of lips attached to mine and all I can think is... I can't... I can't think. I feel.. something. The palm of his hand pressed against my cheek. The general comfort of his presence. Just, him. And it feels... [[nice->Feelings]]. ](css: "color: white;")[ When I open my eyes, his green ones are cutting into mine. "Was that okay?" I nod. "Can- can we do that again?" Will smiles. [[Continue->Later]] ]"Of course, geneticists show that this particular branch of instability you all posses is not, in fact simply genetics. Much like the Pletrin Regime says, instability is a disease brought to Earth centuries ago by demons, this disease has been pased on through the ages. So yes, while genetics play a part in carrying the disease, it is also a disease induced by the devil himself," the woman on the screen says, writing things down on the whiteboard of whatver room she's in. S-9 nudges my arm and gestures over to the guard standing by the door. This guard is heavily plated compared to the ones we typically see. This one has addictional black plating as well as a high powered automatic rifle in its arms. It stands at attention in the doorway. I can't remember the last time I'd seen a guard in the classroom with us. "I believe that is all we have for today," the teacher dismisses before the screen goes blank. I look over at Will and his gray stripe. "Should be off soon right? Those things only really last two weeks," S-9 whispers to me. //Has is already been two weeks? Running and sneaking around?// I look back over at [[S-9->Choice]].//You are being given a choice.// [[Tell S-9->S-9]] [[Do not->Not]]I pull S-9 down the hall out of sight of any guards, speakers, cameras, or whatever the hell else this school's decided to start tracking us with. "Can you please tell me what the hell is going on dude?" "W-184," the name catches in my throat when I try to say it. "He, um, he and I-" "You didn't. L, please tell me you didn't." "For two weeks." The look he gives me could probably kill me quicker than any kind of torture if he'd really wanted to. "Do you have any idea what kind of punishment they'd use on you if someone finds out?! Fuck L, I've never even heard of anyone trying that shit in here. There isn't even a protocol for that!" My ears tingle as he gets louder before I clap my hand over his mouth. "Well we're gonna find out what happens if you don't shut the fuck up." S-9 sighs, "I just don't want something to happen to you, man. Was it not bad enough to get caught and thrown in here in the first place?" "I know, I know, but there's had to have been people that did this before." It starts to feel like S-9 might rip my head off. "And do you see any of them walking around?" "Okay, but what if they escaped? Isn't that possible?" "L... We live in a prison. There's an entire nother layer of building all around this one where all the workers and people who control all the guards and stuff are. How are you going to escape?" "I-I don't know yet. You're not gonna report us are you?" "Of course I'm not gonna report you, you're my best friend, you dumbass," S-9 chastizes me. "But you need to stop seeing him; because god, you're a dumbass but I'm not letting you be dumb enough to [[die->Off]]I sit down across from S-9 and pick at my lunch. I can't help but feel like I'm hiding from him, like I need to tell him or something. He's been my best friend since I got here, the only person I knew had my back and vice versa. He's been there after every electro-shock therapy, every forced male/female pairing. Am I supposed to be able to not trust him despite all that? ... I can't risk [[this.->aware]]I'm forced down into the chair, again locked into it. A guard is in the room by the doorway, one of the heavily plated ones similar to the one from the classroom this morning. I expect more unstables to enter, maybe for another orientation meeting. I look around before I hear a click above me. A chill bolts through my bloodstream, my whole body frozen. The metal cuffs on my body cut in harder, like my blood might cut off completely. I feel like static... My arms are chilled and shaking. I want to shake free. I want out. The metal cap lowers onto my head, the needles poking what feels like all the way through my skull. The guard moves over to my frozen chair. He plugs more needs into my body. I hear a light chuckle come from the metal shell's voice box. The TV turns on ahead of me. "Unstable No.L-018, you are here for treatment. You are to be treated for suspected unstable thought and or actions. You have been through this treatment before. Please remember your mission at this institution," the feminine voice from the TV speaks. I hear the electric current rip through the cord holding the needles to my head. I hear moaning from the TV. I am [[frozen->Will?]].S-9 follows me back to the main hallway as we go past guards and other unstables. My chest fills with pressure. Like my sternum is pressing down into my lungs and trying to squeeze all the air out. I thought telling S-9 would reduce the pressure, not increase it... A heavily plated guard looks over at me, red eyes meeting mine. //Does he know?// //Do they all know?// //Where is [[Will?->Gone]]//<iframe width="0" height="0" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/euCViLHKFrk?autoplay=1"></iframe> (css: "color: white;")[ He comes to my room almost every night. Every night.. Where is he? Last I saw him was class. That must've been hours ago.. I focus on the clock, each tick draining the life from my veins, making me slouch, making me tired and drained. I hear footsteps coming, loud, metal, pounding [[steps->aware]]. ]Brain. Mush. Pain. Frozen. Will. Where? Help. Lights.. on "Unstable No.L-018, do you admit to your [[sins->help]]?"A man is escorted into the room but the heavily armed guards. He is propped up against the wall beneath the TV playing porographic videos and images, both stable and unstable. The man is forced to watch another, strapped to a chair as electric bolts are forced through the body like a type of rag doll. "Are you ready to admit to your sins?" The man watches, a scar cutting across his forehead, looks around the room dazed, eyes almost completely glazed over. "Are you ready to admit to your sins?" A sob rips out of the electrocuted man's throat when he finally opens his eyes to see his partner. Sobs and screams. "Are you ready to admit to your sins?"