Xenophobia

Patient Name: Jordan Malone

Age: 42

Sex: Male

Diagnosis: Xenophobia

Time of death: To be determined

This report documents the performance of MJ220717 in the Skinner Prison Experiments. Due to the overcrowding of [REDACTED] State Penitentiary, we have been provided with an operational license to transfer qualified subjects to our rehabilitation facility.

MJ220717 was selected based on the the following interview that our agent recorded in his blue notebook.

Agent: Please state the reason for your incarceration.

MJ220717: A beaner was threatening me, so I set his house on fire. You guys going to get me out, or what?

Agent: The police statement says that you were armed and accompanied by three accomplices. The victim was unarmed living with his wife and five children. How was he threatening you?

MJ220717: Five children? Damn.

Agent: You were unaware?

MJ220717: I knew there were too many of them, but I didn’t know they bred like roaches. They’re threatening our way of life and will flood the country if somebody don’t burn ‘em out.   

Agent: Do you plan to ‘burn out’ all 11 million illegal immigrants estimated living within the country?

MJ220717: We killed 6 million Jews last time. Yeah, I reckon we can do 11 if we work together.

Agent: So you and your hate group—

MJ220717: Hate group? Shit, we don’t hate anybody. My momma don’t raise me like that. Let me ask you something though—you go to church?

Agent: That’s not relevant—

MJ220717: ‘Cause I do. Me and [REDACTED] were doing God’s work. Doing the Law’s work that the police are too chicken-shit to do. Now I’m in jail while those fuckers walk around free in my country. So yeah, maybe I do hate that. That’s injustice pure and simple.

Agent: I understand. Thank you, Mr. Malone. I think we can help each other here.

MJ220717 was transferred to our facility two days later. He was happy to be released and provided no resistance as he was introduced to his new living quarters. He was provided with a standard suite, approximately 500 square feet with a private bathroom and mini kitchen.

There were no altercations when he was briefed on the details of his rehabilitation.

Agent: Our team has diagnosed you with xenophobia. Are you familiar with the term?

MJ220717: I’m not sick with nothing.

Agent: It means a fear of the unknown, based on your fear reaction with unfamiliar races and cultures—

MJ220717: I’m not afraid of them! I’m standing up to them. If a snake got in my house and I strangled it before it bit somebody, that’s bravery right there. I’m protecting my country.

Agent: … are we finished?

MJ220717: You said we could help each other.

Agent: I got you out of prison, didn’t I? Now it’s your turn to help me with my study. Unless you’d prefer to go back, of course.

MJ220717: Let’s get this over with. What do I have to do? Talk to a counselor?

Agent: Something like that. We’re pursuing a form of exposure therapy. It’s only going to take two hours a day. The rest of the time will be yours, with access to television and recreational facilities.   

MJ220717: I’ve heard of the exposure thing. So what, you’re going to lock me in with a spic? We gonna play checkers or some shit?

Agent: This isn’t about your relationship with foreigners. We’re more interested in the deeper underlying issue—your fear of the unknown.

MJ220717 did not protest as he was locked inside his living quarters. Security footage continued to monitor him as he paced the room in agitation. This continued for several minutes before he returns to his bed and points the remote at the TV.

The screen remains black. He points again, mashing the buttons in visible frustration. He gets off the bed and approaches the TV, reaching to turn it on manually.

He isn’t expecting the hand which reaches out of the screen to intertwine its fingers with his own. He stumbles backward and falls onto his bed. The hand is gone by the time he returns to the screen and smashes it with his fist.

MJ220717 hyperventilates as he removes the shards of glass from his knuckles, but he otherwise seems unaware of the [REDACTED] entity now sharing his living space. All agents have vacated the area to give it space to work.

MJ220717 goes to the bathroom, presumably to look for medical supplies. He isn’t expecting the swarm of spiders that flood from the medicine cabinet. The capacity is only a few cubic feet, but the contents are sufficient to cover the entire surface area of the bathroom within seconds.

MJ220717 flees the bathroom and closes the door behind him. He presses his back against it for several seconds, his hyperventilation exasperated. When he notices the spiders crawling under the door he retreats to the bed and pulls the sheets to block the space.

He’s hammering on the apartment door, calling for help. There is still an hour and forty minutes left of his session, and the door remains locked.

The [REDACTED] entity doesn’t remain idle during this time. The hand has reappeared out of the garbage disposal, feeling its way around the kitchen sink.

MJ220717 notices it now. He approaches and stares at the thing, apparently realizing that it is growing into the room rather than reaching. Similar to the development of a time-lapsed plant or mushroom, the hand and arm are swelling. The joints grow more gnarled and misshapen, and additional fingers begin to bud.

MJ220717 tries to turn on the garbage disposal, but the hand intercepts him and interlocks its fingers once more. They struggle briefly before the subject is able to maneuver his free hand to reach the switch. He turns it on, but the intertwined hands drag him into the blades.

He manages to turn off the garbage disposal before his hand enters. He flees once more to the front door, pounding and screaming.

The bathroom door opens. The spiders have been growing in the same manner as the hand, and each are now the size of a rat. They’re now large enough for him to realize that they are scuttling on tiny fingers instead of legs.   

MJ220717 spends the remainder of his two hour session pressed against the door while the growing [REDACTED] entities crawl over him. He’s still crying when the agent retrieves him and permits him to move to a fresh living space.

Agent: Ever see anything like that before?

MJ220717 is quietly crying.

Agent: We’re not so different, you and me. Or you and those people whose house you tried to burn down. Or you and your ancestors ten thousand years ago. We’re all pretty much the same, compared with something like that. Don’t you think?

MJ220717: I want to go back to jail. Please.

Agent: You have 22 hours before your next session. Feel free to take comfort with your fellow humans in the recreational area until then. You have more in common than you think.