Dr. Tern Wallace hoped his discovery would prove the afterlife. Inter-dimensionality combined with the Universe’s compositional gaps left room for the “otherness” many thought composed the spirit world. That and the decades of research, the divorce of two wives and the estrangement of his children were worth something, weren’t they?
He flipped the switch and the intricate customizations of the MRI machine began to whir. His subject, an irreconcilably mad dog, donated by the local pound, lay drugged within the humming doughnut of induced gravitational waves. His computer screens glowed. Where there should have been the almond shaped amygdala he found, nothing.
No, not nothing. He had suspicions as to what had replaced the brain’s fear center. Here was proof.
Dark matter. The stuff of astrophysicists, the missing matter of the universe, it theoretically surround us but was kept at bay by our own observable matter inexorably pushing back. Yet, its existence, induced to leak across the impenetrable boundary by the cruelty, the torture the broken German shepherd had endured at the hands of its owner, was undeniable. Evil existed.
Indeed, evil existed, manifested from dark energy, dark matter and, from what Dr. Wallace could tell, was spreading.
The machine spun down. Unfortunately, the side effects of the machine’s interrogation included the death of the subject. He would have to expand his research.
He needed other subjects. Human subjects.
He reflected upon his options. Could the mere thought of experimenting on humans mean that he, himself, had succumbed to this dark infection? He dismissed the notion. Science required information. How could science ever be thought of as evil? Tomorrow he would call his contacts at the asylum.