Painless

Pain was no longer permitted. In fact, pain was no longer possible. Twelve years ago, miraculously, the government was able to remove pain receptors from the body. They called it the Great Mercy. As a result, people were blessed. A world without pain or misery was a blessing. No more toes stubbed on the corner of your desk. No more mosquito bites, no more itching all week. No more random migraines. The world could finally be at peace. Or so they thought.

Because pain was gone, people no longer feared papercuts or the danger of touching a hot stove. Though agony had ended, injuries had now skyrocketed. After all, it was always quicker to tumble down the stairs than to walk.

"Alright, everyone, line up on this green line in alphabetical order. Two feet of space between you. At attention!"

Isabelle had been in the military for over a year and had just completed her prerequisite training. She followed in her mother's footsteps, who also enrolled a decade ago. Now, she awaited her promotion. Her feet lined up cleanly on the desired line; everyone's jumpuits were the same shade. She stood straight up as the fourth soldier from the left, her last name giving her that advantage. To her right, nearly one hundred others in her uniform formed. The giant building they were stationed in was bright and mostly metal, but the floors were filthy, and there wasn't a window in sight.

In less than ten seconds, the man who had ordered them walked along the line while lecturing the group for what he claimed was the final time. "Listen up! You all are the ones who survived the trials of war. I am proud of you all," his smile formed. "That said, you have been selected for testing. That is what you all volunteered to do. For the next three months, you will be consuming various poisons, taking injections, and being bitten by anything we tell you to be bitten by. Do not worry, it's for a good cause."

The already silent room grew quieter. The shuffling feet halted, and the twisting of heads froze.

"If you are to survive, you will be sent a paycheck you cannot imagine! You like the sound of that?"

"Yes, Leader Markkanen!" The line shouted in unison.

"Very good. If you have any objections," he pointed at the man who questioned him, "I will see to it that you are discharged before you leave this very room!" The rest of you, please follow the line to the laboratory. You are dismissed." Being discharged would be a blessing compared to the other option.

No one spoke after; only the sound of hustling feet persisted. Even though the line was long, they each began marching at the same time, their feet matching patterns, including Isabelle, but she kept her eyes low, unlike her peers.

~~~~~

"Angel, come forth." A short yet stout man called for Isabelle. His scruffy black beard protrudes from the blue mask he wears, but luckily, it still stays above his nose.

The soldiers were taken to the laboratory where experiments were conducted. In this very room, the government had discovered a way to remove pain and suffering for everyone. Only a select few in the world knew the secret of its mechanism.

Isabelle rose from her post and stood before the scientist. "Sir."

The man ordered her to sit, and she did so peacefully. With three other soldiers still standing where she had been, they watched as the man opened a white shelf with a beautifully bedazzled handle and removed a syringe with a needle attached to the end.

She gazed at the large amount of purple liquid that sloshed around inside the clear syringe. "Isn't that too much?" She asked the man.

The second scientist in the corner of the room lifted her head into view from behind the computer and chuckled at the question.

The man gave her a lighthearted smile. "You have nothing to worry about." And with that comment, Isabelle submitted to the man and relaxed her shoulders. She stared at the three others in front of her as she was punctured, then felt the juice flow into her slowly. It did not hurt, of course, but she could feel the needle tussle inside her veins.

"Good job. Now, Ashburn, come forth. Angel, take a seat beside my assistant, please." The man waved Isabelle off and scooped up the next soldier. Isabelle made herself comfortable in the chair to the leftmost. There were four total, precisely the number of soldiers sent to this office.

The astonishingly young assistant had beautiful blonde hair, but her roots were turning darker. "Angel, please allow me to hook you up to this." She stood and presented a mechanical wrap. Isabelle nodded without a word, and the lady carefully wrapped the device around her. Isabelle stayed silent but admired the hazel eyes, surprisingly dilated, which focused on her, since her mask covered the rest of her features. She came so incredibly close; the soldier recognized the eucalyptus scent wafting from her hair. "Thank you, baby," the assistant whispered.

Isabelle sat and watched as the next three soldiers took turns receiving the same purple serum. Each one did not react and sat next to her, then got wrapped in the machine afterward. Eventually, all four of them were sitting in the uncomfortable chairs, and the doctor who injected them cleaned up his area, disposed of the needles carefully, and stood.

"Now, you all will sit here for the next hour so that we can track how your bodies react to the poison. If there are no effects during that time, you are dismissed."

"And if something happens to us?" the soldier farthest from Isabelle inquired.

"We will be able to track it and find out exactly why there is a reaction so that we can remove it." He pointed to the computer. "That's why we're doing this experiment, you know."

"You shouldn't speak of the reasoning, sir." The assistant spoke up.

The man lowered his mask. "You're right, but I guess it doesn't matter. These four were injected with S-26."

"What does that mean?!" A soldier in the middle stood frantically, ready to lower into a fighting position. The assistant rose slightly, making sure she could see above her computer. The rest of the soldiers, including Isabelle, watched in worry.

"I apologize, young one, but I cannot explain the situation to you."

The soldier lifted his fist, prepared to throw it at the man; his bald head shone in the bright light. "Why don't you tell us everything. Right now. Are we going to die here?"

"Well," the scientist stepped back and lifted his arms in defense, giving himself a second to adjust. The soldier took another step back and seated himself once again. "I will tell you all that, yes, it is very likely that you will perish here."

The assistant stood. "Why are you telling them this?" The rest of the soldiers stood too, beads of sweat forming on their faces.

"However, it is for good reason. Now that pain is gone, you all know that the world has become careless. For whatever reason, people believe that because they can't feel anything, they're immortal. Luckily, everyone in this room is smart enough to think otherwise."

The bald soldier gasped to himself. "So we mean nothing to you all. We volunteered to die."

"That is a given when signing up for the military. But I have the utmost respect for all of you for being here today. Just like all those who die before their time, it would be a necessary sacrifice for the sake of the world."

Isabelle let his words resonate. She had heard that story over and over again. Deaths were deemed necessary for a painless world. No one truly had an accidental death; fate had just chosen their time earlier than expected. The only exceptions were murder and suicide, but that had always been the case. That was what her mother thought, too.

One by one, the soldiers collapsed. Not one of them made a sound, no signs of misery or struggle. One second, they were standing there in worry, and the next, they were dead.

~~~~~

Over the next three months, Isabelle did not see her father once. She signed a waiver that guaranteed the poison's secrecy and was kept in the government's quarters for as long as they needed. Over this course, she had witnessed nearly one hundred soldiers take their final breath. Each one received a proper funeral and a speech praising their valiant contributions to the world.

Isabelle thought about what her funeral would look like. How many people would attend, where it would take place, and how many people would speak fondly in her name? In reality, only her father would have true passion in his words. He was the only one who knew her story. The rude scientist who never placed his mask above his nose witnessed the same deaths Isabelle did, yet he still never asked for her first name.

"Angel, step forth," said the scientist. And she did so, as she always had. "Are you excited? This is your last one, correct?"

Isabelle was one of the only soldiers from her original squad to survive this long. Luckily, a new squadron came up to bat every month, so the supply of men never grew too low. "Yes," was all she could muster.

And just with that, the scientist stuck her in the shoulder with the final injection. The bright green juice poured into her, but as per usual, she did not react at all. After, she sat back down to wait for the others.

While waiting, the same assistant wrapped the device around her one final time. Luckily, Isabelle learned her name was Greer, but never bothered to learn her partner's name. Never before had her eyes faltered or shrunk. They showed determination in Isabelle, as if she were counting on her to survive each one. This time, her eyes were different. The usual spark dissipated, and her eyes were not as dilated.

The computer seemed to be slightly turned, and Isabelle could squint to see the monitor. The assistant began typing the last name, 'Angel,' and two names appeared. There likely was another with the same surname as hers, but the first name, 'Sienna,' shared by her mother, was even less likely.

"Click on that name," Isabelle ordered, louder than she intended.

Without a word, the assistant clicked 'Sienna Angel.' Immediately, a giant tab of information flew to the top of the screen. The page held everything Isabelle knew about her mother and more—every action she took while in the military was tracked. However, one line caught her attention more than others.

'Cause of death: S-26. '

The last time Isabelle saw her mother was in the ocean. They were spending their day at the beach when Sienna unfortunately accidentally drowned. Or so Isabelle thought. She's overcome this tragedy, just as everyone else does. The world knows that accidents such as these occur frequently. There was no way to know when you were suffocating, so it was hard to see when you were about to die. Ever since pain had been removed, her mother had always been careful, so her death was especially astonishing.

~~~~~

Fortunately, Isabelle completed three months of painless torture. Unfortunately, she was the only survivor from her original squadron. After completion, she was required to attend a meeting with administrators to congratulate her. Leader Markkanen was the one who told her, but it was an optional meeting. Regardless, she decided to participate anyway.

She arrived at the capital building as soon as she could, with a paycheck that was too grand to let wait. Once there, she finally called her dad for the first time in a while. They talked for hours and hours. About every injection and every drink she had to endure, about the tens of comrades she watched collapse, and about how cute Greer was.

After the call ended, she decided to explore her new lifestyle. The halls were grand, and the ceiling was carved with a beautiful shape. Although plenty of spectacles caught her eye, one piece caught her attention far more. A door at the end of the hallway, and the only one, a clean, stainless steel door. Isabelle brought herself to the door, and as she grew closer, the massive code on the side showed more present. A four-digit code was required for anyone to enter. Even so, 'Authorized personnel only' splattered just below the handle.

If it had not been for Greer turning her computer slightly every single day, Isabelle would never have known the code. She entered the same four digits that allowed Greer to access her computer, and the same green glow and rewarding beep sounded. As the door slowly twisted, its thick interior surprised Isabelle; she estimated it to be at least six inches thick.

"What are you doing?" Markkanen pointed at her from the opposite side of the hallway, but too far to cause any trouble for her.

Ignoring him, she entered the new room.

Before her, a room full of machinery and wires strung from floor to ceiling, wall to wall. Panels of code scurried around her, and in the center, a control panel full of screens, buttons, and levers. As she stepped in, the door closed behind her, and it beeped locked once again. The control panel had one label at the top, larger than the others.

'Pain.'

Immediately, she got to work. In less than a minute, Isabelle rushed to the panel, took a heavy breath, and pulled up.

Wires came apart, sparks flew, and a siren wailed. She persisted, tearing apart the panel until it was irreparable. Her prodigious actions felt as though she had done this before, but in reality, she just happened to have no concern for the consequences. They could never hurt her.

Banging at the door. Markkanen must have been calling for her, but the door was too thick to hear his voice. Although he was a leader, he must not be allowed to know the code. Either way, she continued, rummaging around the room to delete any chance of the machine functioning anytime soon. Sirens and bells chimed, and the computers flashed red in warning if they had not been punctured yet.

She pulled a wire, and one whipped back at her arm.

"Ow!" she recoiled.

At long last, the door opened, and Markkanen, alongside two scientists, rushed inside, too impatient to wait for the door to open completely. "What the hell are you doing?!" Markkanen screamed and grabbed Isabelle by the collar.

Isabelle didn't respond right away, but held her arm, where dark blood oozed through her fingers.

"Oh my God," one of the scientists surveyed the room. The main lights in the room dimmed, and even the final sirens suffered a diminuendo until they, along with the rest of the room, were silent.

Total annihilation.

Now, no one else could suffer the accidental death of the one they loved. To eliminate carelessness, like everyone wanted, consequences had to be necessary.

That consequence came to pass when a security officer entered the room, scanned for the problem, and shot Isabelle in the head.

~~~~~

In less than an hour, everyone in the world began experiencing pain again. Headaches, cramps, and sicknesses that no one knew they had jolted into their receptors. In the same amount of time, the world denied it.

The Capitol building felt stagnant as hordes of people swarmed it with no room for escape—nearly fifty thousand people in total, and still growing. On the roof, Markkanen, more scientists, including Greer, and the President.

"No more pain! No more pain! No more pain!" The people chanted.

"What do we do, Mr. President?" Markkanen asked with disdain.

The crowd was so large that they could not see the end of it. They took over the roads; people stood on cars and climbed onto light poles. If it were not for the electric fence that separated the protesters from the building, it would collapse abruptly.

The President inspected the crowd, listening to the screams and chants. After a moment, he finally turned to speak to the line of lab coats.

"Get it running again." They all stared. "Now!" And they were off to fix the calamity.