The Conversion (Dator)

The Conversion (Dator)

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Summary

"Are you disappointed in life? Tired of living? Do you want to ensure your loved ones are well cared for after you pass away? As Clinical Director of The Ultima Centre, I can guarantee that your privacy, every personal consideration, and the transfer of your life will be sensitively managed if you allow us to purchase it. We pay top-dollar to your designated beneficiary immediately when you sign one of our LifeTrans contracts." -Ultima Center, digital billboard advertisement By the year 2025, medicine and technology have advanced at such a rapid speed that it is now possible not only to grow and harvest organs for human transplantation but to transfer a human life itself from one body to another. A pilot program called "The Conversion" is now in place and is looking for five willing participants-https://www.theconversionpilot.com/ For Alina Bruhler, who just turned 18, this offer is too tempting to resist. Having struggled her entire life, she is at a crossroads and is ready to sell her life to ensure the financial security of her beloved younger brother, Micah. In order to transfer her life to another human being, Alina must go through a thirty-day preparation process, consisting of the virtual re-experience of some of her most horrific memories. But an accidentally discovered loophole alters the course of Alina's life. New people enter her life and memories, and she falls in love for the first time. Can she get her life back and be together with the one she loves? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Personally, this one is my favorite. The best love story I've ever created. Struggled with my own demons, working on this story helped me see the light and good in people. Please leave your comments!

Summary

"Are you disappointed in life? Tired of living? Do you want to ensure your loved ones are well cared for after you pass away? As Clinical Director of The Ultima Centre, I can guarantee that your privacy, every personal consideration, and the transfer of your life will be sensitively managed if you allow us to purchase it. We pay top-dollar to your designated beneficiary immediately when you sign one of our LifeTrans contracts."
-Ultima Center, digital billboard advertisement
By the year 2025, medicine and technology have advanced at such a rapid speed that it is now possible not only to grow and harvest organs for human transplantation but to transfer a human life itself from one body to another. A pilot program called "The Conversion" is now in place and is looking for five willing participants-https://www.theconversionpilot.com/
For Alina Bruhler, who just turned 18, this offer is too tempting to resist. Having struggled her entire life, she is at a crossroads and is ready to sell her life to ensure the financial security of her beloved younger brother, Micah.

In order to transfer her life to another human being, Alina must go through a thirty-day preparation process, consisting of the virtual re-experience of some of her most horrific memories. But an accidentally discovered loophole alters the course of Alina's life. New people enter her life and memories, and she falls in love for the first time. Can she get her life back and be together with the one she loves?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Personally, this one is my favorite. The best love story I've ever created.
Struggled with my own demons, working on this story helped me see the light and good in people.

Please leave your comments!

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Conversion

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 11, 2017

Reads: 2045

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 11, 2017

A A A

A A A

Today is my eighteenth birthday, and finally, my birthday wish is becoming a reality.

Five days ago, the Conversion pilot project was announced. I can’t believe it! After months of anticipation, the pilot is finally up and running. The Ultima Center was seeking five willing and able participants to take part in the final testing stage of this revolutionary new in vivo technology project. When I first heard about the Conversion, I put my name on the list of nominees to be considered for a place on the pilot right away. I couldn’t have been happier or more surprised when not only was it announced the Pilot was to become a reality but received notification that I was to be one of those chosen to undergo the Conversion.

For all long, as I can remember, I’ve wanted to end my wretched existence. The Conversion pilot is a long awaited dark dream come true. My successful nomination means that I can bring to an end my pathetic life, and in exchange receive lots of cold, hard cash knowing that my life will go to someone who really wants to live.

I’m standing in front of a gray, windowless building, under a towering, black sign that spells out, Ultima Center. To me, gray and black are the colors of sadness. They go well together. The building reminds me of one of those abandoned, structures in Chernobyl, the site of a nuclear tragedy that happened way before my time. Chernobyl is now a modern day ghost town that came up in my search engine when I was trying to find the most depressing places on earth.

I take a deep breath and move purposefully forward towards the large frosted glass double doors of the Ultima Center. The wind blows my hair across my face, and it annoys me. I angrily search for a hair tie in my hoodie pocket, then pull my long brown hair back into a hastily fashioned, messy ponytail.  The charcoal color of my grubby hoodie, stained here and there with black marks of indeterminate origin, echoes the building’s depressing color scheme and looming menace.

The sky is blanketed with gray clouds. I close my eyes and breathe in the fresh air before the rain. I love that smell. I’m hesitant to go inside. My heart is racing. My hands are starting to get cold, so I rub them against my jeans to warm them up. “Get moving,” I say to myself.

Still, my nervousness is almost overwhelming as I pass through the frosted glass doors. My body trembles a little, and my breath catches with each step I take. Once in the foyer I look around and am pleasantly surprised by the welcoming quiet. I of all people can appreciate this place of silent, isolation set in the middle of nowhere, up a bleak and grimy road edged with half-dried bushes and skirted by delinquent, tumbleweeds.

I need to keep it together; otherwise, I could not only miss my appointment but worse, stuff up and lose my place on the pilot. I take deliberate and determined steps across the marble floor of the empty foyer. Glancing first to my right, I look down a long corridor towards a pair of double white frosted doors at a distance of 50 meters. I turn back to my left and see a small, fifty-something woman in a nurse’s uniform seated behind an antique white desk with a sign at the front saying Reception Desk. Aside from the woman at the reception desk, the hall is empty. Very slowly, almost tiptoeing, I make my way in her direction. She does not move. Her eyes are fixed on a large computer screen in front of her. I stop for a second and check my phone to make sure I have the right place and time.

“Can I help you?” she finally asks as I scroll through my phone. I stare at her wrinkly face and can’t seem to get a word out. Scanning her face from forehead to chin I eventually force out an “Umm…” I feel as if I have swallowed my tongue.

“Do you have an appointment with us?” she asks directly, sensing my uncertainty.

“Yes, I think I do,” I say softly, putting my hands on the reception desk.

“Great.” She gazes at me over the top of her reading glasses.

“What’s your name?” she turns her eyes back to the monitor.

“Alina Bruhler,” I mutter.

“Can you repeat that?”

She leans forward in an attempt to hear me better.

“Alina Bruhler,” I say after clearing my throat, “I have an appointment for two o’clock,”

“Let’s see. Yes, I have you here with Dr. Deanna Kismen. I will let her know you are here; please take a seat.”

She nods in the direction of a couch that I don’t recall seeing when I stepped in.

I sit down and place my backpack on the floor. I nervously run my hands over on the soft leather of the couch and look nervously around at the bare tiled walls. Gray, of course, there are no pictures, no photographs. The only furniture in the hall is the couch I’m sitting on and the reception desk and chair. The hall is literally a long gray box with four walls and an extremely high ceiling. I wish there was a glass roof that could let in the natural light. I guess they decided to make this place as depressing and impersonal as possible.

I notice an odd smell that begins to fill my nose. It's hard to describe the scent, but somehow it evokes sadness. I take another breath and try to identify the unusual smell when suddenly, out of nowhere, I feel my anxiety rising again.

I put my hands on my head and try to calm down. 

“Alina Bruhler?” a female voice asks in a friendly yet sharp tone.

I tilt my head up and see an attractive woman, probably in her mid-thirties. She doesn’t look like a doctor to me—more like an elementary school teacher. She has a beautiful, innocent-looking baby face. I admire her olive skin and stunning brown eyes, her extremely long eyelashes and the tiny wrinkles on her forehead. Her straight brown hair is pulled neatly into a bun. She is wearing a gray long-sleeve turtleneck with a black pencil skirt. Gray and black. What other colors would I see here? She is holding a stack of plastic cards.


© Copyright 2017 DK. All rights reserved.

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