Fentanyl E001: The Mysterious Experiment(Book 1)

Nisha's Point of View

A week ago, I was finally discharged from the clinic, but since then, not much has changed. I find myself struggling to catch up with my classes because of the time I spent away. The teachers have given me extra homework to help me advance to the next year's level.

Currently, I'm at the library, determined to make up for the lost time. Nathalie and Shawn have been incredibly supportive, assisting me in every possible way. Nathalie and I have grown so close that it feels like we're sisters, and Shawn always lightens the mood, making time seem to pass quickly. It took me some time to fully trust Nathalie, but that changed yesterday when things took a positive turn.

Nathalie revealed to me that they were constructing a small hidden lab among the trees. They're working on their plans, and for now, Shawn insists that I don't intervene. He wants to get to know the real me before assigning me any specific tasks.

As I reached the library's entrance, I was jolted back to reality, reminded of the numerous projects and responsibilities awaiting my attention. One of those projects needed to be submitted tomorrow, and the library was my best chance to find the necessary information.

Heading directly to section C-1 on the bookshelf, I perused the neatly stacked medical books. My projects and assignments revolved around medicine, and I was currently searching for information on treating a particular animal condition. It felt a bit daunting since it was unfamiliar territory, focusing on animal illnesses rather than human ones.

While browsing for relevant material, my eyes caught sight of a peculiar gold-colored book that stood out among the rest. Curiosity getting the better of me, I decided to keep the book and investigate further. It seemed quite old, as if its owner had either failed to find it a proper place or had forgotten to return it.

As I examined the book, I noticed a letter carved on its side, which piqued my curiosity even further. The letter read, 'What was the source of the Fentanyl?'

As I tried to lift the large book from the shelf, my hands trembled with excitement and nervousness. It was covered in dust, and some of the pages were torn and worn out. Carefully, I corrected my posture and searched for a suitable reading spot. When I found a vacant spot, I took a deep breath, but heavy thoughts still consumed me. Was finding this book just a coincidence?

Sitting down, I gently opened the book, still trembling, but determined to hide my emotions. Would this be the moment when I finally find some answers? How prepared am I to face whatever lies within these pages?

As I turned to the first page, I found only a single word printed on it: FENTANYL. It was an unusual start, and I noticed that the pages didn't have any numbers. Nonetheless, I didn't let that stop me from eagerly turning to the next page.

Fentanyl is a synthetic opioid drug that was first created on December 25, 1979. The original inventor of fentanyl did not have any intention of causing harm with its creation. Is it useful? Yes, it is indeed very useful. Fentanyl has been utilized as a potent pain reliever for medical purposes. It is effective in managing severe pain and is especially valuable for individuals who have experienced harm due to illegal drugs. Many people struggle with drug abuse, and Fentanyl has proven to be a highly effective treatment for these cases. Mr. Hakomoto Moore is the individual credited with creating this beneficial medication. His contributions have had a positive impact on controlling drug-related issues in Ottawa in a peaceful manner.

Fentanyl, however, can be dangerous when misused or abused. It is incredibly potent, and a small amount can lead to life-threatening consequences. Illicitly manufactured or improperly used fentanyl has been linked to numerous overdose cases and deaths. It is crucial to use fentanyl under proper medical supervision to avoid potential dangers associated with its misuse.

As I read about Fentanyl's origins and Mr. Hakomoto Moore's involvement, I was taken aback. It appeared that Fentanyl was initially created with good intentions, but it later turned into a disaster when it was transformed into a liquid form and became hazardous. This revelation left me curious to learn more, so I decided to turn the page to see if there were any further details.

As I discreetly read on, I discovered another piece of information that intrigued me. The story within the book seemed to be unfolding with each turn of the page, and I couldn't help but delve deeper into the mystery that lay before me.

Mr. Shon Moore, the son of Mr. Hakomoto Moore, initially brought peace to Ottawa City. However, something had changed within him after his encounter with Mr. NO, and he transformed into a power-hungry demon. His actions took a dark turn, leading him to assassinate his own father and mercilessly seize control of the throne. Eventually, he became the mayor of Ottawa City on December 16, 1999.

Despite the death of his father, Mr. Shon showed no remorse, becoming even more ruthless and eliminating people who were not even his enemies. The situation escalated when he kidnapped 100 students, transporting them to the ominous-sounding Ottawa Tomb, where he subjected them to some form of entertainment. However, the kidnapped students struggled, and their fate took a horrific turn. By the year 2000, Mr. Shon labeled himself a failure, claiming that no one had been successful.

The kidnapped students had undergone a dreadful transformation, turning into monsters that infiltrated Ottawa Clint High, silently murdering their fellow pupils. This terrifying revelation shed light on the existence of Greenhills, a place where their skeletons were hidden. It appeared that without a proper cemetery in Ottawa City, the deceased, including animals, had no option but to be buried in Greenhills.

As I delved deeper into the book's revelations, a mix of emotions overwhelmed me, and tears streamed down my cheeks. The heartlessness of Mr. Shon, the current ruler of the territory, became apparent. He seemed driven by an insatiable thirst for power and control, to the extent that he had even orchestrated the slaughter of all the wild creatures in the forest, leaving no trace of wildlife. I understood Nathalie and Shawn's discontent with their grandfather, who seemed consumed by greed and a desire for more power, despite already being wealthy.

As I continued reading, my attention was drawn to another name scribbled within the book's pages. The name sounded familiar, but my memory seemed to have deserted me for reasons unknown. Though I had an inkling, I hesitated to accept it, as my mind resisted the idea. The name that caught my attention was that of Mr. No, a complete stranger to me. I couldn't fathom who he was and what role he played in the unfolding disaster. Was it possible that he was the mastermind behind all the chaos, and Mr. Shon was merely a survivor under his influence? The curiosity to know more about this connection gnawed at me.

My heart raced with a mixture of fear and intrigue as I sought to uncover the truth behind the mysterious events that had unfolded in Ottawa City.

As my mind continued to spin with thoughts and revelations from the book, I decided to close it. The overwhelming emotions had taken their toll, and I gently stroked my head, trying to ease the pain. Ignoring the approaching footsteps, I closed my eyes, seeking a moment of respite.

However, the footsteps behind me stopped, and a girl's voice spoke, "You don't deserve the life you've had up to this point." The voice didn't belong to Nathalie or Rebecca, leaving me intrigued by what she had to say. Was she aware of my existence? Yes, it seemed like she knew, and I shared her sentiment. I couldn't accept being treated as if I were less than human. I didn't deserve the challenges, injuries, and suffering I had endured; I was a victim of circumstances beyond my control.

Summoning courage, I took a deep breath and turned to face the girl. As I looked at her, a memory surfaced-I remembered her. She was the one who had once remarked, "I deserve what I'm going through." Now, I was curious to meet her again and understand why she was so enraged. What had happened to her? What was the source of her anger and suffering?

The encounter with this familiar yet mysterious woman added another layer of intrigue to the unfolding story. My mind raced with questions, and I braced myself for the unexpected answers that lay ahead.

As we locked eyes, I asked her coldly, "Can you tell me who you are?" Her eyes rolled in response, indicating that she understood my memory loss.

"Of course, you can't recall because of that stupid medicine. But I don't care for you, and I will never care for you," she replied, her tone resentful. Her words left me taken aback, unsure of what had caused such animosity.

"Why? Did you ask me if I know who you are and if I'm planning to dislike you as well?" I responded, my voice tinged with frustration. In that moment, she slapped me hard, forcing my head to turn to the right. I couldn't fathom what had triggered her anger. The impact of the slap left me stunned, but I could hear her crying.

Through her tears, she said calmly, "I lost my mum entirely because of you." Her words hit me like a tidal wave, and I felt a surge of guilt. Could it be true that her mother's death was somehow connected to me? As I turned to face her again, I noticed how she was wiping away her tears, trying to regain her composure.

A whirlwind of emotions swirled within me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that her mother's death might indeed be connected to my past actions, a past that I had lost due to my memory loss. The revelation of my potential involvement in such a tragedy left me in turmoil, desperate to understand the truth behind her accusation.

"You killed my mum! Dad wasn't supposed to look after you!"

As she accused me of assassinating her mother, I was left astounded by the revelation. It took me a moment to process the weight of her words. She was my father's daughter, the one who had taken care of me. The realization that I might have caused her mother's death was overwhelming, but I couldn't remember anything. Frustration coursed through me as I tried to recall the missing pieces of my past, but it remained elusive.

Before I could respond, the sound of a bomb interrupted our conversation, cutting off my words. Both of us turned towards the entryway, startled by the loud noise. The open door revealed Shawn, who appeared anxious and trembling. As his gaze landed on me, he visibly exhaled with relief. Without hesitation, he approached and embraced me.

The situation outside seemed dire, and the tension in the air was palpable. I felt a mix of emotions, including confusion, fear, and a longing to understand the truth about my past and any actions that might have led to such consequences.

The chaos outside was overwhelming, and Shawn's urgency to leave was evident in his voice. Gunshots rang in the air, accompanied by the sound of fires burning and terrified students weeping. The situation was dire, and fear engulfed us all.

"What happened?" I asked, trying to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"We're being attacked! We've got to get going! They're waiting for us in the jungle," Shawn replied, his urgency urging us to move quickly.

With Shawn's forceful yank, I had no choice but to drag the woman along with us. Despite her previous anger, she didn't resist as we hurriedly made our way together. In the midst of this perilous situation, her personal grievances had to be put aside for the sake of survival.

As we fled, I witnessed many other students running for their lives, their fear evident in their eyes. I felt utterly helpless, unable to aid them in any way. The sense of powerlessness weighed heavily on me as we tried to navigate through the chaos and find safety.

The tense situation escalated as a black man stood in front of us, prompting Shawn to release his grip on me. We could only see his eyes, which were filled with an intense determination. I tightened my hold on the trembling woman, uncertain of what would happen next.

Shawn was no stranger to combat, his reflexes swift and decisive. However, it was clear that the black man was equally quick and skilled. Despite Shawn's efforts to defend us, the man's agility and prowess matched his own. The confrontation intensified, and the air crackled with tension.

In the midst of the chaos, the woman I had been carrying suddenly spoke, apologizing for something. But in the heat of the moment, I could hardly pay attention to her words. My focus was fixated on the deadly struggle unfolding before my eyes.

The situation became even more distressing as I witnessed Shawn's lethal actions. He managed to neutralize the threat, but the sight of violence and the lifeless opponent left me shaken and in tears. I could sense Shawn's fear, mirroring my own emotions. As I gazed at the fallen adversary, a deep sense of dread and realization set in, causing my breath to catch.

As I took in the harrowing scene of bodies lying in blood, the chaos and anguish surrounding us, fear gripped my heart. The gruesome reality before my eyes was overwhelming, and I couldn't help but let out a scream, unable to contain the horror that unfolded in front of me.

Amidst the devastation, a sudden realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. I felt like the missing link in a puzzle-a crucial piece of the unfolding mystery. The revelation flooded my mind, but before I could fully grasp its implications, a wave of blankness washed over me, leaving me in a state of confusion and disorientation.

The weight of my potential involvement in the experiment and the unfolding events seemed to weigh heavily on my conscience. The truth I had sought appeared to be just within reach, yet it remained elusive, slipping away as I struggled to make sense of it all.

Before I was once again swallowed by the abyss of unconsciousness, I held on to that fleeting thought, vowing to uncover the truth and unravel the mystery of my past and my connection to the devastating events that had unfolded in Ottawa City.