The Copy: Project 863

How Bad Can It Be?

(Olivia's POV)

I was filled in on what we were supposed to do.  Basically, we needed to freak the team out, with a mannequin. I'll admit it was strange, very, strange. Matt/Nelson- What am I supposed to call him? Natt? Melson? Whatever, it doesn't matter.  -Had already set up the first mannequin earlier this morning. It was creepy, no doubt, but I don't understand why a mannequin. He doesn't tell anyone anything. Ben said mentally. You figured it out!  He had been confused on how I could listen to his thoughts, and why he couldn't listen to mine. Yeah, I'm not sure how this is supposed to help.

We can talk without anyone eavesdropping .  I responded. 

We pulled up a few blocks from the studio, we didn't want to be accidentally seen. We started walking. And for the first time, I saw my reflection.

In a window of a nearby business, I saw myself, if that's what we were calling it. I was finally aware of why people were looking at Ben and I as if they had seen a ghost. We looked almost identical. My short, dark hair was a matted mess. The black clothes that I was wearing hung off my malnourished frame, and I remembered I hadn't eaten in, well, I- How long have I been here? Days? It's been at least a week. But how many? A month? Two? How many? Is the team worried about me? What did he tell them?  Do they think I'm dead? I certainly look the part. My pale skin was somehow more pale than I had ever seen, except for a couple spots on my face that looked to have been burned. 

I took off the googles, casting a red hue on everything. Long strips of scarred skin sat under my eyes, tracing down past where the mask covered the rest of my face. My eyes. My eyes were the worst. They were an unnatural, repulsing, crimson. No wonder everything is red. They said this was permanent. Are they going to stay this way forever? Does it really matter if you're going to be stuck at Syntec forever?  I didn't want to think that I would be here forever, but it wasn't completely a crazy thought. Actually, the chances of me getting out are probably lower than me having to stay. My gloved hand automatically reached up to touch my eye, I stopped myself. So what? You'll get out of here. You'll escape. You'll go back to your friends. But what if they see your eyes? What if they think what everyone else does? That you're a copy. That you're a monster. That, you're not worthy of being called human. Not worthy of their time. Not worthy of their care and affection. Will they look at me the way-  Ben's hand rested on my shoulder, waking me from my stupor. 

"Hey, we don't have much time." He said simply. We started walking again.