Neurograft
By T. Dalton
The doctor announced it was time to remove Alexey’s brain. Alexey took a deep breath, awaiting the sleeping gas. It was always the same. The doctor would speak through an intercom into the room. Within a minute, purple incapacitating gas would flood the dorm and Alexey and all the others would be asleep. At least the doctor had the courtesy of announcing whose turn it was.