Daddy [Mommy Sequel]

Chapter 9: Transfer 342

The woman noticed my stalled behavior and urged me forward, out of the curtained room. My skin was crawling all over from the sight.

As soon as I stepped in the hall, I was met with children, walking up and down the hall with a blank face and flat features. I was rather surprised, considering the fact no one was out earlier.

I watched the children as they slowly made their way through the halls. Their glistening skin and blue eyes not bothering to acknowledge me as I passed them, behind the masked woman. All the boys and girls I saw...they were all the same to everyone else. Everything—even up to the last hair on their head was the same as the other boys and girls I saw.

The floor clicked under my polished shoes as I followed close behind the nurse, swallowing as she finally led me into a room similar to the one I found Rosabeth in before—the room with the white walls and the TV on one side.

But this one had a table and two chairs set in the middle, the man with glasses sitting in one of them. I squeezed my pale hands together.

Once he saw me, he rose from where he was sitting, his face flat and his motions slow and coordinated. He held a glass, digital checklist—just like the nurse did.

An assortment of items rested on on the table, such as a stack of papers, another syringe, and many others. He gathered my attention once he spoke again.

"Come in, Number 737–sit, please," he hummed. I turned and watched as the nurse left the room, shutting the door behind her. I had no choice but to sit down in the metal chair across from the man with glasses.

He sat down across from me, studying me intently. I could feel my stomach twisting into knots, and I hesitantly watched as the man clicked through the see through, computerized tablet—seemingly focused on something.

I began to wonder if he would actually ever speak to me.

After what seemed to be ages, he finally set the tablet down, boldly looking me straight in my eyes. The eyes that resembled his so clearly that I wondered if he thought he was looking into his reflection.

"Nice to see your purification went smoothly, Number 737–it looks as though we won't have to go in for a second round."

I grimaced.

Like that one girl.

The man cleared his throat, the room silent with my lack of response. It was almost unbearably awkward, and I wanted him to get to the point. But I couldn't help glaring and clenching my new teeth, slouching in the chair and crossing my arms.

He noticed this and raised a brow, clearing his throat once again. He crossed his hands in front of him on the table, watching me with an emotion I couldn't decipher.

Noticing that I wasn't going to say anything, he began what seemed to be his well planned set of topics he was required to go over, saying them with an almost robotic tone. I listened intently.

"Alright, Number 737. I am Transfer 342, and I have been assigned to inform you and, might-I-say, help you by going over the basics of living here," he spoke smoothly, the words running out of his mouth. I raised a brow, the 'name' he went by rather surprising.

Why was I a number, and he a transfer?

I didn't make any movements towards his words, so he continued.