It has been several days since the last encounter with the soldier, or Jack. While getting poked and prodded at with God knows what, it's given me some time to think.
First off, I can't sit here forever, rotting in a stupid chair in a random facility in the wrong time. My main priority is to find a way out of here. I don't know how, or when, but those are just some small details. Maybe if I could get information about the building type from Jack, I could download a blueprint and figure it out from there.
While sitting by myself in almost complete darkness, I begin to wonder where Jack is. Not out of stupid, crazy, blind love, but rather out of curiosity. Sergeant Chapman probably has him working overtime. That sick man.
While thinking of the consequences of strangling the Sergeant, the door behind me slides open. I hear the light switch flicker on, and the Sergeant himself steps into my line of vision.
"Well, well, well, taking my advice to heart?" I shoot him a glare, and he grins. "Well, I've come here to give you some good news, and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first?" I spit at the ground, and he clicks his tongue. "Well, then, not speaking are we? Then I'll choose for you." He walks slowly around my chair, like observing an exhibit at a museum.
"The good news is, since you've behaved so well recently, you get a little time to stretch your legs outside." Outside? Finally. I can get out of this stupid chair, maybe observe my surroundings a little... "And after this, as a special treat, you get a new room. You'll have a little more..space, in this one." I stay silent the whole time, and wonder what he's up to. What the sick and twisted catch is.
"What's the bad news?" I growl at his feet. "Oh, she speaks!" I can hear the mockery in his tone. "Well the bad news is, we will not be needing you soon. Our research is almost complete, and you will be..." I can hear him searching for a word. "Disposed of, shortly after." Disposed of? Is he going to... kill me?! "You have one week. Make yourself comfortable." He laughs, blows me a kiss, and leaves.
Okay. I seriously need to get out of here.
YOU ARE READING
Broken
Ciencia FicciónThe cold barrel of the gun presses against my forehead. I would imagine it is cold, anyway; it's a whole 11 degrees below my body temperature. Fear constricts my chest, but then I realize something. I grin. "You wouldn't actually, though. Would you...
