By Jack .W.
(The Mind Experiment — Story One: "The Invitation")
I woke up in the dark, my head pounding, breath shallow.
The air was thick, metallic, reeking of blood and rust.
When I touched the back of my head, my fingers came back wet. Sticky.
My vision swam for a few seconds before settling on a flickering fluorescent light above me.
It buzzed, flicked, then stayed on — revealing a small, white room with walls too smooth, too clean, like the inside of a coffin.
Around me, bodies began to stir. Groans. Whimpers. A woman screamed.
We were fifteen. Fifteen strangers in identical grey uniforms, sprawled across a cold metal floor.
"Where… where are we?" someone croaked.
I pushed myself up, my heart slamming against my ribs. "I don't—" I started to say, but a sudden spike of pain tore through my head.
My memory—blank. I couldn't remember last night. Hell, I couldn't even remember my own last name. Only my first: Jack.
I only remember preparing to head to work—after that nothing else.
Then the panic hit.
A young man in a business suit began pounding on the walls, screaming.
Two others joined him. Someone else sobbed in the corner, muttering prayers.
A tall woman in a lab coat was whispering, "It's a dream, it's a dream, it's just a dream."
Then came the buzz.
A static crackle from a speaker hidden somewhere above.
Everyone froze.
Then, a voice — calm, male, disturbingly polite — echoed through the room.
"Good morning, participants.
You have been chosen for The Mind Experiment.
You are here to play a simple game: Lie or Die."
Someone yelled, "What the hell are you talking about?! Who are you?!"
The voice ignored him.
"In this experiment, we study the limits of the human mind.
You will each be tested on your ability to deceive under pressure.
Lying grants you life. Truth grants you death."
A murmur rippled through the group — confusion, disbelief.
One of the men, short and stocky, clenched his fists. "What kind of sick joke is this? Let us out or I'll call the cops!"
There was a pause.
Then the voice responded, soft and cruel.
"That… was your first lie."
A high-pitched tone pierced the air — beeeeeep—
Then the man's head exploded.
Screams.
Blood splattered the walls. The woman beside him fainted.
I felt bile crawl up my throat. The man's body was just—gone.
Only red and meat and a smell that would never leave my memory.
The voice returned, still eerily calm.
"You all have been injected with a micro-substance in your bloodstream.
If your lie contains even a hint of truth, you will… terminate. Instantly."
"Terminate?" someone whispered.
"Yes. As you just witnessed."
No one dared breathe.
"You will face five rounds. Five lies.
You may only survive by lying perfectly — a lie that your heart and mind fully believe.
Those who tell the truth, even partially… will die."
The speaker hissed, then fell silent.
Moments later, the wall in front of us split into fourteen doors, each marked with a number.
"The experiment begins now," the voice said.
"Your odds of survival… 0.002%."
Then the lights went out.
*******
Stage One: Lie to Live
When the lights came back on, I was alone in a new room. Smaller. One metal chair.
One camera. A voice recorder on the table.
"Stage One," the speaker said.
"Question One: Tell us what you love most about your family."
Family.
I felt a rush of warmth — my mother's laughter, my brother's birthday.
Then I remembered the warning.
A lie.
A perfect lie.
Something I believed.
I said, "I don't have a family. They're dead."
I wanted to vomit as I said it — because I knew they were alive, living in another city.
A pause.
Then the voice:
"Incorrect."
The tone screamed. My heart stopped—
But nothing happened.
The voice spoke again, curious.
"Fascinating. Partial immunity detected."
The door unlocked.
I stumbled out, shaking. In the hall, I saw two others emerging from their own rooms.
One was crying. The other had blood dripping from his sleeve — someone didn't make it.
By the end of Stage One, five were dead.
Their blood soaked the drains beneath our feet.
********
Stage Two: The Confession Game
We were herded into a circular chamber.
A massive red button stood in the center.
"Stage Two," the voice said.
"You will each confess your darkest truth. If your confession is real — you die.
If it is false — and believed by your heart — you live."
"Why?" screamed a girl. "Why are you doing this?!"
"Because lies," said the voice, "are the only thing that make humans interesting."
The game began.
A trembling boy went first.
"I once killed my dog," he said.
He survived.
Next, a woman whispered, "I cheated on my husband."
Boom.
Blood everywhere.
The red button glowed brighter. One by one, they went around — death after death, until it was my turn.
I closed my eyes. My hands were shaking.
"My name isn't Jack," I said quietly.
The room stayed silent.
Then the door opened.
I lived.
When we left the chamber, only six of us remained.
*********
Stage Three: Betrayal
"Now," the voice said, "you will choose one person to die.
Speak their name.
If more than one name is chosen — you all die."
No one spoke for almost a minute.
The silence was unbearable.
Then a woman named Claire pointed at me.
"He's dangerous," she said. "He doesn't even know his name!"
Her eyes were wild, bloodshot. Fear. Desperation.
I clenched my fists. "If you kill me, you'll be next."
People started turning on one another — shouting, screaming, pushing.
Someone grabbed the button.
Boom.
The explosion threw me against the wall.
When I opened my eyes, Claire's head was gone.
The speaker crackled again.
"Impressive.
You've learned the first rule of survival: Lies are easier when you stop caring about truth."
Only four of us were left.
********
Stage Five: The Last Lie
I didn't even remember what Stage Four was.
My mind had gone somewhere else — broken, cracked open like the bodies around me.
Now it was just me.
And the final room.
A mirror covered the far wall.
My reflection stared back — a bloody mess, missing two fingers, one eye swollen shut.
The voice spoke.
"Final stage.
Tell us one last lie — a perfect lie.
If it is perfect… you leave.
If it is imperfect… you die."
I stared at myself.
What was left to lie about?
Then i whispered with a smile.
"I'm happy,"
Nothing happened.
The light flickered.
"Say it again," the voice demanded.
"I'm happy," I said louder.
Still nothing.
The mirror cracked. A dark liquid seeped from the edges — black, like oil.
Then the voice spoke one last time:
"Congratulations, Jack. You have won the experiment.
You have truly learned the lesson.
You don't believe in happiness… so your lie was perfect."
The walls opened.
Daylight poured in.
I crawled out — broken, bleeding, but alive.
When rescuers found me weeks later, I had lost my left arm, my right leg, and one eye.
No one else was ever found.
They told me it was an "abandoned laboratory."
They told me no experiment like that ever existed.
They couldn't find no trace.
But sometimes, when I sleep, I still hear the voice whisper through static:
"Lies are what make humans beautiful, Jack."
And I remember the others — their screams, their confessions, their half-truths.
I wonder if maybe… the game never ended.
Because every day since, I've had to lie to survive.
Even if i don't have to.
Stream Commentary; Tape #53. "Lie or Die"
"And that… my dear audience… was Lie or Die.
A little game where truth costs blood and lie costs your soul.
Let's open the comment section, shall we?"
[@Jaija: You know what's haunting, Kai? The way the organization justified it as "a step for human evolution." Evolution into what? Monsters? Psychopaths who can lie without guilt?]
[@Enchomay: weren't testing limits—they were testing morality. They wanted to see if humans could still feel empathy under pressure. My guess? They wanted to erase empathy entirely]
[@Ovesix: Or maybe they were trying to create a world where lies are the new currency. You lie well, you live well. You tell the truth, you die broke. Honestly, that sounds like society already]
[@642: The organization didn't need data—they wanted entertainment. A god complex project. Watching people tear each other apart for survival… that's not science. That's pleasure disguised as research]
[@jaija : Poor Jack. He didn't deserve that ending. He was the only one who believed honesty could savebutnow,he has to lie because of trauma]
[@Ovesix: trauma is one of the worse disease the human mind could get]
[@642: Jack won the experiment, but not his morality. He let them rewrite what truth meant to him]
[@Enchomay: In a world built on deceit, truth is suicide]
[@Jaija: Then what was the point of it all? What did they gain?]
[@Enchomay: control maybe. They want to build an army of people who can kill and lie with a steady pulse. A world led by emotionless humans who can justify any atrocity as "for progress."]
[@Ovesix: It's scary because it's believable. Governments would fund that in a heartbeat if it meant stronger obedience]
[@Jaija: And it's not just governments. Corporations. Influencers. Everyone who profits from manipulation. They don't need to invent the technology—they already perfected it in us]
(Kai let them speak, then he sighs)
"You're all… beautifully disturbed.
But that's what this story was meant to do—to make you wonder: so the truth wouldn't set me free"?
Jack wanted to survive, that's why he lied.
He lied. That's why he lived.
And yet… he can't sleep peaceful or live normally "
[@Jaija: So what's the moral here, kai? Don't tell the truth?]
Oh no, my dear butterfly… tell the truth. But tell it to the right ears.
Not all confessions deserve an audience.
And not every listener deserves your truth.
And sometimes... is ok to lie."
[@Ovesix: That's deep. So basically… live, but don't bleed for those who would drink your blood]
[@Jaija: Poetic. Creepy. True.]
(Kai nods at their words)
"Tell me, my dear viewers… if your survival depended on lying, would you still tell the truth? Or if your life depended on the truth, would you dare to lie?
Jack did both.
And both killed him."
Now… let's move to something darker.
Something more personal.
A tale of revenge disguised as justice.
A story soaked in rage and rebellion.
One that begins with a question no one should ever have to ask…"
The next story is called
"How to Kill the School Bullies."
It's not what you think.
And It's not about murder.
[@Jaija: "Wait— WHAT!?]
[@Enchomay :Oh? ]
[@Ovesix: I can already feel this one's going to hurt emotionally]
[@642: Finally, some justified carnage.Do we get snacks or therapy after this one?
[@Jaija: Both. Definitely both]
(Kai chuckles darkly, the sound glitching like laughter trapped inside static.)
"Keep your mind open, my little audience.
And make sure to lock your hearts tonight"
STREAM ENDS