I was sitting in my favorite corner enjoying my time without torture when I heard Mr. Voice. My head snapped up immediately.

"I have something for you..." it intoned ominously.

"You promised me no pain!" I yelled plaintively at the ceiling.

"Of course. Think of this as a present."

I thought I detected a slyness in his voice that I had not heard before. It was almost as if he were enjoying himself and that made me very nervous. The door opened and one of the goons walked in holding something. He dropped it on the floor and left. I looked at it in amazement. It was a newspaper! My spirits soared despite my uneasiness. A newspaper in here was like a treasure trove. I would be able to read, find out what was going on in the world, hell, I could find out what date it was. I ran to it and grabbed it with hands shaking from excitement and looked at the front page. Then I dropped it as if had been scalding hot. The front page headline read:

NSYNC member Justin Timberlake found murdered in own house.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "No,no,no,no,no," as I shook my head fervently. Not this, not this...No God, this was a mistake! It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. I must have read it wrong. I forced myself to open my eyes and look back down at the paper. The headline was still there. I gripped the paper so hard that my knuckles turned white and I began to read.

"Justin Timberlake of the hugely successful boy band NSYNC was found murdered in his suburban home in Orlando yesterday morning. His body was discovered at 10:00 in the morning by his friend and fellow member of the supergroup Lance Bass. The police are releasing few details at this time, however they have stated that the attack occurred at around 1:00 am Tuesday night and that Mr. Timberlake died of blood loss from numerous stab wounds to the chest and abdomen shortly thereafter. Sadly, this is not the first tragedy to befall the supergroup this year. Three months ago fellow bandmate Joshua Chasez disappeared from his home in Orlando the day before a scheduled photo shoot. His whereabouts are still unknown at this time and foul play is suspected in the disappearance. The police are asking that if anyone has any information regarding the murder of Justin Timberlake or the disappearace of Joshua Chasez that they contact them at Secret Witness."

I threw the paper at the wall in fury, unable to read any more.

"You did this! You bastard!" I yelled. "Why?" I moved toward the wall and began to pound on it. "Why? Why Justin?" I screamed in agony.

"I think you should know that he did not die quickly," Mr. Voice said.

"Goddamn you!" I shouted as I sunk to my knees, fists still pounding the wall. "Why did you hurt him? Why Justin?"

"You chose him," it stated flatly.

"No... I didn't know! I would never have said anything if I'd known. You tricked me," I said as the tears ran down my face in torrents.

"Perhaps," said the voice simply.

The lights shut off just then and I knew that I would now be left alone with my thoughts. I stopped pounding on the door and curled up in a fetal position. I had just killed my best friend. I had signed his death warrant in exchange for a few days free of pain. Agony lanced through my heart as I realized what I had just done. To me it didn't matter that I hadn't known what was going to happen when I gave his name. I felt as guilty of his death as if I had held the weapon myself. My anguished sobbing was the only sound that filled the room as I curled up even tighter in the fetal position. I wanted to make myself small, so small that maybe I would become invisible. If I were invisible, then no one could see me to hurt me. I thought of Mr. Voice's words on the first day of my captivity. He had said I would be turned into less than nothing. Right now that sounded like a good idea. If you're nothing you can't be hurt.

I began to whisper to myself, "I'm nothing, I'm nothing, I'm nothing..." as I surrendered to a blackness that rose from my soul and engulfed me in its peace.

Time passed and I spent most of it in a self-induced numb state. Whenever I thought of Justin's death I would feel a pain so deep that it took my breath away. Instead of dealing with it I chose to hide in my mind in a place where there was no pain, no thought. A part of my mind wondered if I was in shock. Probably. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered. Justin was dead. I had killed him.

The lights blazed on and I opened my eyes wearily.

"You are close aren't you?" Mr. Voice asked.

I merely lay there as I listened. Maybe he would kill me now.

"You are so close to breaking. You actually want it now don't you?" he asked.

I looked up and nodded. How could he know?

"To become less than nothing. A non-entity," the voice continued.

I waited. A non-entity with no more pain. Yes, I wanted that, please.

"I have something for you," it said.

I froze. The last time Mr. Voice had said that he had delivered the news of Justin's death. What could be next?

The door opened and a white packet was shoved in the room. I slowly crawled over to it, my heart beating in anticipation of what I would find. I opened the envelope and pulled out a stack of pictures. I looked at them in curiousity.

The first picture was of my brother Tyler. He was lying on the floor of my parent's house. Half his face was missing. The half that was there stared at the camera in mute horror. I looked at the next picture. It was of my sister. Her face was intact but there was a huge gaping wound in her stomach. She was bathed in blood. The next two were of my mother and father. My father's face was completely missing, his brains plastered on the wall behind him. My mother was lying face down and I thanked God for the small mercy of not making me see her face. It was obvious enough that she was dead by the amount of blood surrounding her body.

I put the pictures down and ran to the corner just in time to throw up on the wall and all over myself. I began sobbing as I continued to vomit. No,no,no,no,no,no..... I could not think. This was too much. My family...No,no,no...

"Gunshot blasts do an awful lot of damage don't they?" Mr. Voice asked.

I put my hands to my ears in an attempt to shut him out. No,no,no,no. Not them. Oh God, help me please. Not them.

"Of course your sister was raped before we shot her. She cried for her mommy. Isn't that sweet?"

The bile rose up in my throat and I retched again. This was too much, this was too much. I was hyperventilating. I couldn't get any air. I saw the blackness again out of the corner of my eye. This was just too much. With a last thought to my beloved family who I had just seen butchered like animals, I threw myself into the darkness. Into the peace.

A little later in the control room...

The man and woman looked at the screen which showed them the room that JC was being held in. They each held a champage flute in their hands.

The woman spoke first. "Cheers Doctor."

They clinked glasses and drank deeply. This was a time for celebration for both of them after all.

"Congratulations," she said. "Your experiment worked."

"I knew it would," he said confidently. "Thank you for providing me with the test subject."

"Oh, please, I should be thanking you. You are a genius."

He laughed, pleased by the comment.

"So, what will you do now?" she asked out of curiousity.

"Well, continue the experiments with other subjects of course. Until the process is refined. The people that are financing this will undoubtedly give me more money now that I can show what a success this was."

"Will you stay in the country?" she asked.

"Highly doubtful. I'll probably go somewhere tropical and continue there," he answered.

"I gotta tell you, I just don't understand why the U.S. won't fund a genius like you," she said in open admiration. "I mean do they even realize how this process could help them deal with prisoners of war and spies and traitors?"

"The United States government is filled with nothing but short-sighted beauracrats," he said slightly angered now. "It doesn't matter now. Other countries can benefit from my research."

She looked at him. "Will he ever come out of it?" she asked as she indicated the still figure of JC on the screen.

"Oh eventually, probably. But not without at least a few months of intensive therapy." He looked at her. "Would you like to go see him?" he asked.

She nodded. "Oh yes."

The man and woman entered the room. She walked right up to JC and bent down to look at his face. His blue eyes stared out into the distance, unfocused. He was completely still except for his breathing.

"Are you sure he can't see me?" she asked.

"He can't see or feel or hear. His body is here but his mind is gone," he reassured her.

She stood up and kicked JC hard in the ribs. "You bastard!" she shouted. The man was taken aback by her ferocity.

"You fucking bastard, piece of shit! You think you can fuck me and toy with my emotions and then dump me! Nobody dumps me Joshua!" she yelled at the motionless man, kicking him every few words for emphasis.

"You called me a psycho bitch that last night remember?" she asked as she kneeled down and grabbed a fistful of his hair. "Maybe I am, Josh, but I think its a whole lot better than being a fucking vegetable like you!" She yanked her hand away from his hair, pulling out a fistful of it in the process. JC did not even flinch.

She stood up. "You make me sick," she said in disgust as she landed one last powerful kick on his groin.

"Let's get out here," she said as she began to calm down.

The man nodded. "Of course." As he started to walk out the door, he said, "I will have my men dump him in the field tonight, just as you requested."

She smiled. "Thank you. Death would just be too easy for him you know."

I floated in the peace that was this darkness and I was content. Nothing could hurt me here. I would never leave. At times I felt myself float close to the surface of the blackness and I could here voices. Some of them spoke after one another, some of them spoke far apart.

" ...catatonic state due to severe and prolonged physical and mental abuse."

"He was tortured?"

"I'm so sorry..."

"He's malnourished. He's lost over thirty pounds."

"My baby, my baby." That voice sounded like so much like my mom, but my mom was dead.

"Will he ever come back?"

"JC please come back to us man. We need you, I need you." That voice sounded like Justin, but how could that be? Wasn't he dead?

"All these flowers are for you Josh. They're so beautiful. Please come back so you can look at them."

"He'll need complete care around the clock."

"I won't put him in a home...not my baby." Mom?

I rode the waves of the blackness as I listened to the voices. Then I sunk back down into the peace. I was nothing after all...this is where I belong.