“Those eyes…staring at me in the dark. I can’t bare it anymore. Can you check on them?” Jill was rubbing her shoulder, trying to suppress a chill. Franny knew the expression well, knowing how more and more the senior patients appeared less human. “I don’t know why…something about the night time makes them act strange, makes their minds go to dark places and have weird thoughts. Maybe it’s some sort of cranial enhancement induced dementia.“

Franny pressed the blinking red button for room 403 on the display, turning off the alarm. Morning Springs was a state-of-the-art elder care facility and the patients rarely needed attention at night considering the robo-assistants in each bedroom. Call buttons were used and like Jill she hated to see patients, her friends, deteriorate before her eyes. More than human…They lived longer, thanks to the bio-augmentations, but age and death would inevitably come for them all.

“I’ll check. He probably tripped over the robot again. Corey can’t keep it in his pants.” She chuckled. “He’s always trying to sneak off to see Amber.” Grabbing the tool kit she walked sternly down the dark reflective hallway, occasionally glancing at her reflection. The lines on her face were becoming more pronounced. Old age was devouring even her. Think better, she told herself, think of the peace lilies in the pot by the window, or the pothos by the kitchen. They needed water or else their petals would wither. Without nourishment her white lilies would turn brown. She swallowed deep and frowned.

Nevertheless, the elderly needed nourishment and it wasn’t always just food and water. Billy watched TV and Maxine made puzzles but once they received their first augmentations, they tended to go through what the doctors called “progressive recognition.” A reawakening of a younger, more self-aware mind. They become restless. Aggressive. Excitable. Reckless. Eager. And the most terrifying of all, smarter. But not in a way that would exude intelligence or wisdom, and somehow, they seemed to lose that aspect, that wisdom, receding back to a younger, super ego. The disassociation that comes with augs also plays a part in this recognition. In adults it means they regret their augmentations. In the elderly that feeling is distorted. Regret seems to be superseded by sporadic and oddly psychotic neurosis, as if they’re bored with reality.

Joel died a few days ago and he had the most expensive augs. Ones that prevented neural elasticity from breaking down. He ended up cutting his ears off in the bathroom sink because, after Fran found him bleeding, he said he wanted to see what he would look like without them. It still gave her chills, mostly from the permanent smile on his face.

She came to room 403 and her badge automatically opened the door for her. The bedroom was dark. It was hard seeing her friends slowly go insane but this was her job, her duty. “Corey, are you awake?” The bed was empty. He must’ve gone to see Amber again.

Suddenly a lamp fell to her left and she started. Behind the fallen lamp were two sullen, shiny eyes, staring back from the blackness. “Frances, there’s something in my head. In all our heads. I can’t get it out…but I might be able to get it out of you.” Corey was hunched over, shaking, scratching at his cheeks. His vision was enhanced, making him appear like a nocturnal predator. Bicep augs were implanted to improve motion but coupled with the leg implants he had the muscles of a body builder with a frail frame. It had always been off-putting. And he was naked…”The plastic inside me is melting. My mind has seen things, things only the darkness can see. There’s a hole…”

“You need to get back in bed and into your clothes…” As he came into the light it was clear he was injured. His cheeks were scarred from his overpowered biceps and his chest had the same wounds. She panicked but didn’t want to get close. That was when she noticed the lines on the ceiling. The same drag marks that matched his abdomen.

He stumbled forward, holding his forehead. “I have to know what’s inside your mind. Ach!! Pure energy. I can feel–” The way in which he twisted his neck, as if he was becoming a dysfunctional robot; it was unnerving. He pressed her against the wall with unnerving tension. That face…in the dark, crumbling apart, flesh literally dripping from his face, crusty lips, was completely unaware and oblivious to pain. She tried to push away but he was too strong. His voice was frantic. “It’s eating us alive and we don’t even see it. It’s eating us! I have to get it out. I have to make it stop!”

He started grabbing her hair and pulling. She screamed out, “What–Stop!” And kicked him hard. The bed caught his back as he jumped backwards onto the bed and then up to the ceiling, scampering up the wall. She screamed again and ran from the room, panting. She closed the door and locked it. What had gotten into him? The dissociation must be taking hold and twisting his mind.

Instinctually she went two doors down to check on Amber. She was lying in bed, her eyes wide. Normally she had a smile, seeing Fran’s sunny disposition but this time it was a look of fear. “Are you okay?” Fran huffed.

“It’s all a lie. Reality is a lie. We perceive it as we go through life as we expect it too, but once we live too long…”

Franny didn’t know what she was talking about or why this kind, elderly woman would make such existential statements. She was 117 and spent most of her time looking out the window, barely speaking even to Franny. Even with cranial augs she was just as mentally destitute and quiet as the ones without them. “Did you see Corey?”

Amber spoke to the wall, speaking to one in particular. “I used to be so beautiful. Now I’m a sack of bones in a place where people go to die. I wish I had that body. I’ve become hyper aware of that fact. I want out…”

“You can’t leave. This is your home now. I’m here to take care of you.”

“No. Not here. In this…decaying shell of mine. My senses are heightened, my mind is fresh, but now all I have is pain, anger, and misery. I look down and this cage is suffocating. I was so happy…once, so invincible. We are falling apart. Inside and out. Down the drain. The only thing I enjoy is embracing the rage for those who put me here. Corey…tells me our bodies aren’t real, that we just need new bodies. Like yours.” She looked at Franny like a bear staring down prey, hungry, unempathetic, unkind.

She backed away slowly, not quite sure how to comfort her and not sure if she wanted to. But suddenly she felt a cold presence behind her. A hard hand grabbed her and threw her backwards into the hallway. Her back slammed against the wall and she opened her cringing eyes to find Corey staring over her, naked. He picked her up by the shoulders, digging his fingernails into her flesh. Cracked and bleeding lips spat phlegm. “You trapped us here. We want out. The only way out is through.” Wilting flowers, once beautiful, a beauty that she could no longer see. It was a mask that could never be taken off. These people…her patients, were all trapped behind wilting flowers. She could feel his frail skin and knew he wanted to tear off her own mask. A mask that would meet the same fate.

She resisted the claws on her face but was powerless. People saw what they wanted to see and she saw only death and despair. She hated herself in that moment for looking at the elderly with such disdain over old age. They couldn’t help it. No one could. Staring at this decrepit yet sickly mutant of a man she wondered if her own face was real or a facade of middle-age. The light started to fade from her eyes. Being strangle never felt so justified. Why should she try to fight it? She would inevitably end up like this man anyways. Deranged. Insane. Disappearing. Flickering out…

A cracked, a slam, brought her back to life. The hands loosed from her throat and fell backwards. Corey falling with them, to the floor. Amber was expressionless, the same hungry, soulless eyes. A bloodied pair of medical scissors fell from her grip. Fran could only stare back, waiting for her to attack her next. A small puddle of red pooled around Corey’s head. Should life really be extended beyond a natural end or could Franny survive the old age that was to come? She wanted to ask Amber but she was too far gone, having likely killed Corey.

Her mouth still open in a flat line finally spoke with a monotone whisper, “We are all just goldfish being flushed down a toilet. Let it happen and enjoy the ride while it lasts.”