Shaw's eyebrow raised slightly, as he gestured for me to place my wrist on the scanner as well. They logged the times of entry and departure of each Prototype to make sure they could track our treatments. It was a way of monitoring our progress as well as pre-empting our termination.
Andreas reached out to stop me but I stiffened in response. 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉. 𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓁𝓁 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇. He sighed, balling his hands into fists either side of him. I gulped softly as he turned and walked away, taking Bambi with him. 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷'𝓽 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹 𝓲𝓽. My eyes hit the ground as my soul registered his sadness, the futility of his resistance. The futility of mine. I felt bad but there was nothing I could do. It wasn't my decision to make, so I swallowed it down. Shaw inquisitively marvelled at our wordless exchange. I stared back with a suffocating hatred. 𝐼𝒻 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 ���𝒾𝓁𝓁.
Resigned, I identified myself, the laser grazing the barcode on my wrist. The dark lines of the black ink arranged in a particular order of thickness and distance had all my personal information, from the day I was born till the day I will die. Kept up to date by Shaw himself, it was a constant reminder that I was a possession, not a person. To them, I was a some𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, never a some𝘰𝘯𝘦.
"Mr Evergreen seems overly attached to you." He muttered offhandedly, his eyes seeking clearance to my mind's secrets. I shoved him out, forcefully. Andreas has been my guard for years and we've managed to keep our relationship hidden from everyone, but Shaw, his nose never strays far from my business.
"Last time I checked this was a check-up of your asset, not your daughter. Don't act like you care." I snapped, walking straight through the titanium doors and into the room void of everything but a reclined chair, leaving him gritting his teeth in annoyance. Sitting down sideways, I sighed, waiting for my daily dosage of death.
Today was just like any other day in the Institute. I cracked my neck as I prepared for the familiar pain of routine. Aptitude tests, simulations, scans: a daily occurrence so frequent that I didn't even feel their needles slip under my skin's surface. They emptied whole pints of serums and fluids with names I can't pronounce, through the wires and cables on my skin, pouring poison and ambrosia into my bloodstream. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw were the letters on the bags, my eyes gleaming with the numbers.
"Hey, Xero." Genevieve, one of Doctor Shaw's trusted nurses, approached me.
Her salt and pepper brown hair was pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head, and concealed by the gear they were all required to wear. The soft wrinkles and laugh lines that marked her face suggested she had a happy life, descending gracefully into retirement. 𝐼 𝓌𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉'𝓈 ����𝒾𝓀𝑒. Grabbing my shoulder softly with her perfectly French manicured fingers, she greeted me with a smile. I sighed longingly.
"Hi, Gen." I smiled at her, relaxing slightly under her touch.
She was the last of the good ones on Doctor Shaw's team, the others weeded away by his intent. The darkness that he harboured in his heart drove them to the brink until their ropes snapped, one by one, and they abandoned me to the monster. All but Gen. She was like a mother to me through it all, comforting me with the warmth of a gentle fireplace in mid-winter. Though she had no power over my suffering, she still looked at me with the humanity I craved, affection clear in her eyes. I loved her.
"How are you feeling today, hun?" She asked softly, as she helped me out of my dirty lab dress. The cool chill of air on my bare skin threw up goose bumps and I ached to cover myself; an expanse of hairless skin, sleek and matte like a painting, with intricate designs like a Lichtenberg figure, tracing the path of my veins in a soft blue.
Vulnerability shone in my eyes, as Gen guided me back down onto the seat and began to strap me in. The strong leather needed to be replaced every day, constantly reinforced with a new lining, as I got closer and closer to ripping through them. The tightness on my wrists and ankles was uninvited and unwelcome; I found myself unable to curb the instinct to tug at them in vain.
"Oh you know, the usual." I muttered, grumbling under my breath as she secured my collar, looping the thick metal chains.
I watched the scientists wheel in my apparatus, a grimace forming on my face as I braced for the pain. Gen deflated as she followed my gaze, sadly shaking her head as she began to connect me to the beeping devices whirring to life, ready to drain mine. I rested my head against the back of the chair in defeat.
𝓓𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓼, 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂.
The comfort the rippling voice gave me settled my rising nerves; I swallowed down the lump in my throat.
𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈.
"Subject, I heard you got into a fight this morning. With Subject 872." Shaw forced out, his voice tight with frustration.
"Did I?" I whispered, the low tones taunting.
He slammed his fist on a desk, silencing the soft murmur of conversation in the lab. Marching over to me, he busied himself with the key pad beside me, moving the chair into an upright position. I stood, eye to eye with Shaw, and stared.
"You should know better, Subject. If you were to get damaged you would cost me greatly. I do not have the time to tell you the same thing twice. You have an enhanced hippocampus. Use it." He hissed, anger like spittle spraying on my face.
I rolled my eyes. 𝒜𝓃 𝑒𝓃𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒹𝒾𝑔, 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒?
"You forget that I'm better than you in every sense of the word. Don't think to assume you can tell me what to do, Shaw. Know your limits."
His eyes blazed with white hot fury, my shortened fuse clearly passed down to me from him. The closer I looked, the deeper it ran, until somewhere inside him it turned to fear. The slightest tinge of acid met my nose and my expression turned perplexed, inches away from his face. 𝐻𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓃𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝓂𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝒹𝒾𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒'𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒'𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒻𝑜𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝒻 𝐼 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓂𝒶𝑔𝑒𝒹, 𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃'𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝒸𝒽𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓉. That thought drew chills down my spine. Bad news. He wanted something and whatever Shaw wants, Shaw gets.
"Such fire. I love to watch you burn." His sickening whisper, made me hiss, fangs bursting from my gums.
"Let's begin."
Just like that, he threw me into the pit of hellfire that was the Clearing's playground. People made themselves scarce, leaving me alone after wheeling me into a separate glass container. Still upright, I stared at the darkened glass, knowing they were there. Watching.
I sighed, flexing my fingers as the airtight locks on the door sealed. A mechanical symphony started above my head as a new contraption lowered itself from the ceiling, testicles attacking and attaching to my appendages. A stinging scent of metal met my nose, as arms latched onto my collar, drilling their spikes into the holes. I was completely at its mercy, my jugular within its grasp. A crown of metal talons fastened on my head, twisting its way in until the pressure on my skull became almost unbearable. I gritted my teeth so hard I tasted their dust.
Clear tubes turned black as my blood was extracted from my veins, to my right, the coppery taste of its scent filled the air. On my left, they turned silver, a bag of vile gloop being forced in its place. I breathed deeply through the nausea as I laid there, clinging to the thought of my Andy's face on the other side of the titanium door. The burning settled in my lungs as they filled with the heavy air, new particles being introduced through the vents.
Naked and alone in a darkening room, I felt my nightmares coming to life, joining me in the present moment that seemed to stretch lifetimes. Like a Barbie doll being dressed up and dressed down,I was brutalised according to the will of science, the barbarian. My enhanced vision was pushed to the absolute max as I struggled against my restraints. Eyes on every inch of my skin, stained again with the black of my blood, roamed me relentlessly. I felt myself begin to tremble as the air got even heavier. One more second and my heart would explode, the tiresome weight of blood becoming too heavy a burden to bare. One more second and I would scream, now filled up to my eyeballs with an intoxicating concoction of fear and anger.
��𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮.
Verging my breaking point I whimpered, biting the inside of my cheek.
𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒻𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇.
Silence - all motion in the room halted, the arms retreating from my skin and with a pitiful choke I realised that the child's play was over.
Doctor Cage was coming.
His face haunted me. No matter what I did, I could never escape. He was like a dark cloud, following me around like the inevitable, like a guillotine suspended above my neck. A ticking time bomb. Louis Cage. Slick black hair with white tips covered his porcelain skin in a long fringe he tied back under his yellow hazmat suit. The contrast brought spiders on my skin like I'd been buried alive.
Sleep and he's looming over me.
Dream and he's touching me.
Wake and he's torturing me.
Mad as a hatter, he was no scientist. With no qualifications to his name, I was yet to find his connection to the path. I never saw him outside this room, almost like a figment of my imagination, he only breathed here. Nevertheless, I knew he was real and the Institute knew what he did to me. Maybe they brought him in just for that. 𝒮𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓈.
Whenever he was around the roles reversed. My usually confident, dominant self dissipates and I become that little eight year old girl again, unable to defend herself against the big bad wolf's claws. The walls I spent years building, guarding, protecting, he broke down by simply entering my field of vision. When Doctor Cage was around, I was the puppet and he was the puppeteer pulling my strings, telling a bittersweet nightmare of a twisted fairy-tale. Hearing his footsteps, I tensed.
𝐻𝑒'𝓈 𝒶𝓁𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒.
"My darling Xero." His distorted voice slithered into my ears like a violation of the highest degree as I cringed away from him as far as I could. "My favourite Subject."
"Have you missed me?"
Bile rose into my throat as his gloved fingers brushed tendrils of my hair out of my face. I bared my fangs in outrage, as I snapped as close as I could, almost severing one from his hand.
"Awwww sweetheart. I missed you too. Ready to get tucked in?" He slithered, retreating from me slightly and regarding me carefully. My stomach sank as I tugged at the merciless leather. Bruises ripped into my flesh but I didn't care. When squeaky wheels came to a halt beside my head, I doubled my efforts. I didn't need to look to know what it was.
My instincts screamed at me, forcing me to run, but I couldn't. Terror seized my lungs and cut off my airways as his machines roared to life. The tugging gave me no relief, but I couldn't stop. Fear had me in the palm of its hand as I felt the wet plugs stick to my clammy forehead and the back of my neck. Sheer panic overwhelmed me. My bloody forehead had only just been relieved of the spikes; death crept close to my weak and writhing form.
"You're so beautiful. A true work of art." He mumbled appreciatively, taking in every inch of my exposed skin as if he could see the workings underneath. I fought to conceal myself as best I could in my position, but my movement alerted him of my awareness. 𝒮𝒽𝒾𝓉. His eyes sharpened with indignation.
"Since when do we hide things from each other, Subject Xero?" A tone of hurt designed to mask the red in his eyes didn't fool me. I gulped.
Click. I felt the pulsing of electricity pump through my veins, forcing raw pain down my throat. My teeth clamped shut and my eyes began to glow. Melting. They were melting. The dormant silver was spreading, covering my entire iris and leaking into the rest of my eyes. Mercury. I was drowning in agony. The buzzing echoed in my brain as he slowly upped the dial of his mad machine. Leavers turned and machines sang in a hauntingly familiar way. A deathly lullaby who's sleep was inescapable.
I screeched.
Glass shattered.
My heart was running a mile a minute. Thousands of burning needles pressing into my flesh. That's how it felt. Locked eyes on the culprit. I concentrated all my pain and loathing and fear and directed it to a single point. Him. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓁𝑜𝒹𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓅𝓈. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝒾𝓅 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝑜𝒻𝒻 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓈𝓀𝒾𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑒. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈. 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜–
"Now, now, Xero. Play nice." He giggled. Almost like he read my thoughts, he turned the dial even higher to punish me. My screams were frozen to the back of my throat. My brain was fried. Fear clogged my arteries. His mad cackles filled the air as electricity burned every nerve ending in my body. Blood was oozing out of my nose and ears at a speed that wasn't natural. Not even for me. A mixture of black and silver poured out of my eyes, tears I refused to cry. I shook uncontrollably as blood spurted out of my parted lips and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Louis rounded the table as his fingers frantically tapped on his machine, injecting me with a pale blue fluid.
Fade to black.