The dim, fluorescent lights flickered on, accompanied by a dull, familiar hum. A series of three shrill beeps echoed around the small room, bouncing off the bare white walls before coming to a screeching halt as Hans slapped a hand over the alarm. Eager to get started on another fulfilling day of operations, he leapt out of his thin white bed. Although the surgeries had become routine after so many years, Hans still found joy in the work he did. Even when it would grow boring, his work was necessary for the city to operate, and he was proud of his role and the work he did for the Lords and the working class. He especially enjoyed the rare times when something went drastically wrong because it kept him on his toes and alert.
As always, Hans started his scheduled morning routine by brushing his teeth, taking a quick 2 min shower, and trimming his buzzcut, before picking out either a beige or grey suit for the day. Over the suit, he put on a freshly pressed white lab coat before moving into his small kitchen area. There, he carefully picked out an espresso pod (always a different color from the previous day) and made his coffee. Normally, he would stand and watch the daily hologram, but now he sat down at the kitchen table to read a traditional, paper newspaper. Hans was mesmerized for a moment by the grey color of the paper, and the quick flick sounds the pages made when he turned them. The espresso machine beeped twice signaling his coffee was done. Hans sprang up and meticulously poured it into a cup and set out for work. As Hans strolled to work enjoying his coffee, the distant thump of pods belonging to other researchers echoed through the stainless steel corridor around him. Hans finally made it to the main hub and quickly skirted around his peers and their teasing calls before making his way down another stainless steel hallway to his barren office.
Once at his office, he organized the patient files for that day and took his morning meal pods with the remainder of his coffee. Finally done with his morning chores, he headed down to the Third Layer for his first lobotomy.
Hans’ favorites were those on adults, he found those on children a bit sad, after all, they had barely lived and now their souls were being ripped away from them. The worst, however, were those done on pregnant women.
Each woman and girl always thought they were getting an operation because they needed some extra help with their pregnancy, and would come in apologizing profusely for being a bother. Hans always fought the urge to tell them the truth, after all, his dear mother was once exactly where they now were. Hans loved his mother, but he knew she never had a single independent thought, and any personality she once may have had, was gone forever, taken away by someone just like him.
Children rarely fought, and Hans felt some shame for his actions, even though it was all for the betterment of humanity. They would silently stare at him as the orderlies filled their little bodies with sedatives, their gaze only breaking when the drugs took over.
Adults, on the other hand, fought, yelled, and generally made the operations more interesting and stimulating. Hans enjoyed the noise and chaos they created as it made him feel alive, the only times since he was a child.
Hans wistfully remembered the days of fresh air and natural light, of the stars that watched over him at night and the warmth of the sun during the day, of his mother and her gentle voice and warm hands, of his first time operating on a government-supplied rat, the warmth of its blood covering his hands, and the sensation of its rapidly beating heart as it slowed to a stop.
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