“I think I just met the happiest person in the world”, the woman chirped, her blue eyes glossy and dissociated. Her smile was fixed and unmoving, as though she were made of wax and the expression had been carved into her face.

The room under observation, visible through a window that took up an entire wall, left the scene before her in full view.

Romy, the reedy lab assistant with eyes shielded by horn rimmed glasses swallowed deeply to mask his discomfort. Sweat collected under his arms, along the nape of his neck and on his palms, leaving damp patches on the white fabric of his lab coat. He wanted to blame his excessive perspiration on the luminous white bulbs hanging overhead, but he knew that was not it. The intense pressure radiating down his back from his supervisor’s observation left him discomforted and jittery with nerves; that perhaps was the reason for his damp palms.

“Remember what we talked about, press the patient”, Dr Levine’s voice bellowed, a thick coating of disapproval colouring his tone. He was known to address his assistants with vehement disdain, a habit that left most of the young graduate students nervous and afraid.

Romy tried to avoid his supervisors sharp gaze, but the irritated twitch seizing the left corner of his lip prompted Romy to speak despite his nervousness.

Romy cleared his throat and averted his gaze on the woman, Subject 55C.

Her white-blonde hair was obscured by a helmet of wires with electrode leads that pulled her temples taut. Her face was pale and blanched of colour, save for the red crescents around each of her delirious eyes.

Her entire face strained with the effort of holding the expression on her face, giving her an almost pinched expression behind her mask of joy.

Romy cleared his throat and looked down at his tablet. Displayed on the screen was a list of messily scrawled questions he had heard his supervisor previously asking subjects. Romy had pointedly crossed out the overly complicated or irrelevant ones his fellow peers had been scowled for asking in the past, leaving only handful behind.

“Wh-what makes you think that he’s the happiest person in the world?”, Romy asked, his voice shaking with lack of confidence .

The woman didn’t lift her eyes from the glass window as she spoke. Her expression didn’t shift.

“Well just look at him, he’s so passionate and free. Doing what he loves and enjoying it, all with a happy smile. I wish everyone in the world was as happy and peaceful as him”, she said. Though her voice maintained that same airy gleeful tone, it sounded too rehearsed. Not a single inflection or variation punctured her words as she spoke.

Romy gripped the stylus tightly in his hand and quickly jotted down this observation. They would deal with genuine delivery when they modified speech patterns later.

“And what is he doing?”, Romy pressed once he was done writing. Though he wanted to avoid her gaze due to its unnerving strain, he watched her closely.

She didn’t answer right away. For a second- a tiny fraction of time that made itself apparent as a small spike in her ECG recordings- the woman’s face twitched.

Romy quickly jotted the change in his notes:

‘Slight furrowing of brow and twitch of lower lip’

Romy hesitated before writing the next line, unsure of how to describe exactly what he saw:

‘Change of…some kind in patient’s eyes- perhaps signs of awareness?’

But when he looked up from the tablet, that prior false smile was rigidly fixed on her face again.

“He is painting of course”, she paused before adding, “my favourite painting is the Starry Night. I have a picture of it in my living room”.

Dr Levine cleared his throat and Romy looked up to see him gesturing to the tablet in his hands.

“She mentioned a personal statement. Add that in your notes, it might need to be addressed later”, he said gruffly.

Romy nodded obediently and added it quickly to his notes.

“Press her harder. Your questions are not direct enough”, Dr Levine said with a sigh. He rubbed his hands together impatiently and focussed his eyes on the woman.

Romy breathed deeply to steel himself before continuing.

“What is he painting?”

The woman squinted, focusing on the scene before her.

“The Starry Night”, she replied confidently, her tone unwavering.

Romy nodded, unease creeping along his spine. The experiment was working perfectly, a fact that made him feel both pride and guilt.

“Are you sure that is what you are seeing? One hundred percent certain?”, Romy pressed, knowing the question was somewhat out of line. It could dismantle the subject’s statement, screw up the experiment completely. He felt the heat of Dr Levines glare on his neck, but he ignored it.

The woman nodded enthusiastically. “On my husband’s grave, I’m certain. I would know that painting anywhere. That man is not the greatest artist, but even my husband who knows nothing about art would know what it is”, she stated, her smile turning genuine. She must think very fondly of her husband, Romy concluded. The thought made his stomach churn.

Dr Levine smiled and turned to Romy, eyes bright with glee.

“Subject 55C has passed stage four”, he exclaimed joyfully, “Eye-witness testimony has been successfully altered”.

Romy forced a half smile, trying to look as enthusiastic as be ought to considering they had successfully conducted their experiment.

Dr Levine snatched the tablet from Romy’s hand. He was reluctant to give his notes up considering they were quite rough and untidy, but he let Dr Levine pry the tablet from his hands.

“Get someone to clean up the scene and dispose of the body, we need the room cleared for the next patient”, Dr Levine said over his shoulder as he turned to walk out the room to presumably rewatch footage of the trial.

Romy’s eyes shifted to the window, to the scene the lady had just observed. Though it were not the first time he had seen similar scenes displayed in that very room, Romy’s eyes watered, and a lump formed in his throat.

Scarlet splatters marred the white walls, dripping in thick congealed globules from three hours of exposure to the dry air. There was a man in the room, the deep red, almost black glossy blood smeared across his concaved skull. Half of a ghoulish smile was still apparent on his face, making the corpse look even more macabre than it already was. The gun, still clutched in his left hand had been pressed against his head only moments ago before Dr Levine had uttered the trigger word that made him fire it.

Romy stuffed his shaking hands into his coat pockets. He would need more than the usual dose of his sleeping pills to rest easy tonight. The days trial was more challenging than most.

Romy knew the work they were doing was morally wrong- he knew it each time he handed out contracts for blind participants to sign. But what they had achieved in such as short amount of time was incredible; Today Subject 55C had marked a pinnacle breakthrough in their research. They were progressing better than they had hoped.

Where the woman had seen the happiest man in the world painting the Starry Night, the rest of them had seen a much darker scene. They had just observed a woman watching her own husband fire a hole through the side of his head, completely oblivious to the crime she had witnessed.