[ WP ] You take part in the first ever mind fusion experiment . All is well during the testing , but gradually ( over the course of a few weeks ) you begin to experience a different but additional `` voice '' in your head .

It began as a whisper, an autumn breeze blowing through trees, a commotion of the tiniest register. 
 
 The doctors had warned of the possible side effects, but at the end of the day no one knew exactly what could be expected. At the time, lack of information seemed unimportant compared to the possibilities- after all, was n't that the price of progress? People were always scared of the unknown. It was a trait of humanity, embedded in our history. Many before me had faced the unknown, and risen above the greater challenges life presented, trudging through to cast a small amount of light into that great dark. 
 
 It had seemed absurd to view my misgivings in light of these sacrifices. With curiosity ( and no small amount of pride ), I filled out the applications for review, and waited with baited breath for any communication to return. In my most private moments I would dream of the progress to be made, viewing myself already as a martyr to the cause, even before I was chosen to participate. Like so many before me, I fell prey to the human condition. I fell prey to my ambition, and over reached. And now like Icarus I was spiraling, ever so slowly, out of the sky. 
 
 All had gone well. The procedure had seemingly went off without a hitch and I, the herald, awoke to this newly wrought age. No fanfare announced my success, however, and there was no parade in my honor. It seemed in my haste to achieve my spot in history, I had forgotten an important caveat: there are no parades for lab rats. 
 
 Even before the day was done, the changes from the fusion were evident. The process for choosing a suitable candidate for fusion was long and arduous, and in the end the researchers had settled on a brain from a recently deceased statistician. I was the benefactor of her demise, her knowledge transferred to me, forty years of hard work condensed into the span of four hours. I was amazed with my ability to learn the material, tearing through the complex mathematics at a staggering speed. As time passed and my knowledge grew, it seemed that I had been able to cheat the system, sacrificing nothing and gaining all. 
 
 *What a fool I was. * 
 
 Near the end of the fourth week it began. It was so small at first that it was indiscernible from the rest of my thoughts, surfacing occasionally in the dark hours of the night, right before sleep would steal over me. The sound of a name floating in from the void, a name that was n't mine. 
 
 It progressed from there. Bits and pieces of a life lived, of memories stolen. The voice grew more insistent in its prodding, not just a name anymore but a full voice. It cries out to me constantly now, its fury ever increasing. 
 
 Until I do what it wants. 
 
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 Sorry for the abrupt ending, started doing something else and wanted to post what I wrote.
