Speaker 1: Calaogu Shark Media, Hello and Welcome to Ghost. This episode
is titled Winter Escape, Part three Integration. I found my
personnel file today, not a research file, not case notes,
my actual employee file from Meridian Pharmaceuticals, dated three years ago.
My employee photo, my signature on confidentiality agreements. My psychological
evaluation results. Subject demonstrates exceptional pattern recognition combined with dissociative tendencies.
The evaluation reads ideal candidate for project integration. I've read
this paragraph six times now, each time hoping the words
will shift change meaning, become something else. But they remain
stubbornly clear, like the coffee cup cooling beside me, half
empty and sickly sweet, Like David's footsteps upstairs, pacing a
pattern I'm starting to recognize from the research notes. Three
steps pause, five steps pause, three steps, a sequence designed
to induce specific brain wave patterns in subjects under observation.
I know this because I helped design it. The research
files tell a story I don't remember living behavioral psychology
papers under my name, trial protocols. I developed a methodical
investigation into memory manipulation through controlled environmental factors. Project Integration
wasn't about corporate espionage. It was about identity reconstruction, breaking
down and rebuilding human consciousness through precise environmental control, chemical triggers,
psychological anchors, measured doses of isolation and doubt. I flip
through more files, clinical trials, test subjects. Results. Trial Group
A memory suppression successful through combination of MDRI four one
nine and environmental conditioning. Trial Group B identity dissolution achieved
at forty three days. Recommend increasing dosage in morning coffee administration.
Trial Group C terminated due to subject violent reaction. Recommend
screening for dissociative tendencies before compound exposure. Handshake as I
read my own notes, the clinical precision, the careful documentation
of how to break down a human mind. A video
file marked orientation, Doctor Sarah chen My face on the screen,
three years younger, explaining the project to new research staff.
The key to successful memory manipulation isn't a rasure. I
hear myself say. It's replacement the mind, a pause, a vacuum,
Give it the right chemical triggers, the right environmental cues,
and it will fill in gaps with whatever we suggest.
Like writing on a blank page, writing the notes I've
been keeping about David's changes. Those aren't observations, they're conditioning tools,
making me focus on specific details, guiding my perception. Part
of the protocol. I designed more files, more evidence the
lake House rental agreement signed six months ago in my
handwriting preparation for the isolation phase. The break in at
Meridian wasn't a security breach. It was staged to trigger
our escape. Another protocol requirement. Even David's changing coffee ritual.
It's listed right here in the compound administration guidelines increasing
doses of MDRI four one nine, a memory destabilizer disguised
by gradually increasing sweetness, the same compound I helped develop.
I run to the bathroom, try to vomit up the coffee,
but it's too late, has been too late for months.
The drug builds up in the system, reshaping neural pathways,
making the mind susceptible to what A new file catches
my eye. Security footage from Meridian's labs. I recognize myself
in a research bay, but something's wrong. The timestamp shows
this was recorded last week, when I was supposedly here
at the lake House trial phase proceeding as expected. My
voice says to someone off camera. Subject believes she's observing
changes in her husband, while the actual conditioning restructures her
own memories. The image freezes my face on the screen,
smiling at the camera, wearing the same sweater I have
on now, No, a different sweater. No, I can't remember.
David's footsteps have stopped, the pattern broken. I hear him
coming downstairs. His steps sound wrong, or maybe they sound
exactly right, and my memory of how he walks is
what's wrong? Found something interesting, he asked from the doorway.
His voice is gentle, professional, the voice of a research physician,
the voice I hear on another video file, one dated
two years ago. Doctor Chen's work on identity reconstruction is revolutionary.
The applications for treating personality disorders alone. How long, I ask?
My voice sounds strange to me? Chemical effect or fear?
You designed it this way, he says, sitting down. The
gradual awareness, the documented changes, the growing understanding. You said,
subjects accept the reconstruction better if they think they've discovered
it themselves. Am I the subject? You're the breakthrough? He
slides a file across the table. You proved it could
work on someone who understood the process, even the researcher
who designed it. My hands won't stop shaking as I
opened the file. More photos, more documents, more evidence of
a life I lived but can't remember, or a life
I didn't live, but remember perfectly. The coffee, I ask,
already knowing your idea graduated exposure to ensure proper neural uptake.
You were very specific about the protocol, protocol, everything following
careful protocols, even this conversation. Why my voice cracks? Why
would I do this to myself? David's smile is practiced, perfected.
That's the interesting question, isn't it. Why would a brilliant
researcher deliberately subject herself to her own memory reconstruction process.
He stands, straightens his sweater, the same sweater from the
security footage, or a different one that looks the same.
Maybe you should check the last file, he says, the
one you marked project Integration, True Purpose. I look at
the envelope in front of me, my handwriting on the label,
my fingerprints already smudged on the seal. You designed all
of this, David says, softly, The protocols, the triggers, the
gradual revelations, everything leading to this moment. What moment when
you finally understand why you chose to forget. He leaves
me with the envelope, with the coffee cooling on the table,
with the sound of snow falling outside, and memories shifting inside,
and nothing feeling real except the terror of knowing this
is all proceeding exactly as planned. I just don't know
whose plan it is anymore. The envelope feels heavy inside,
a single page, my handwriting, my protocol, my reason. The
storm howls outside as I read what I wrote, what
I planned, what I designed for myself, and finally understand
why I needed to forget, why I needed to remember again,
Why this isn't just about changing memories. It's about what
those memories are hiding. The coffee maker starts again upstairs.
Seven scoops, more chemicals, more changes, perfect timing, perfect protocol.
I just have to decide if I want to remember
what I worked so hard to forget, or if some
memories should stay buried in the snow. Ghost is a
Calorogus Shark Media production written and hosted by Alexander Ian McIntyre,
produced by Mark Francis. Executive producers Mark Francis and John McDermott.
Portions of this podcast may have been created with the
assistance of AI. This show, along with hundreds of others
from Caloroga Shark Media, is available commercial free on any
player hassel free. Just look for the link in the
episode or show notes. Calaroga Shark Media