Ptolemaea | Henry Creel

Project Nina

---OKAY, BEFORE YOU READ. THIS IS SORT OF EXPOSITION BUT ITS IMPORTANT TO HOW TO STROY WILL PLAY OUT!--- I know my fellow whores r here for henry so he will be pretty relevant in the next 2 chapters, promise.  OKAY ENJOY!!!

I think I lost my mind somewhere between Wyoming and Utah.

I was drugged beyond the point of comprehension for the entire ride to the Nevada Desert. I didn't remember much; just an overwhelming fear and a desire to escape the stifling heat. Whenever light started to swell before my eyes and my consciousness began to return to me, the sensation of something sharp digging into my skin stole it all away.

By the time I woke up fully, I knew my little life in Maine was gone for good.

Minutes turned into hours locked behind a military-grade metal door. Not knowing where I was, what was waiting for me, or how to cope with it. Each moment that passed, I slipped further and further from the grasps of sanity. An endless parade of tears poured down my face while I rocked myself back and forth, head tucked between my legs. The room I sat in was empty; devoid of anything aside from a metal table and two more metal chairs. It reminded me of the lab. This entire ordeal was a relentless, never-ending reminder of the lab.

I didn't want to give Brenner the pleasure of watching me lose my mind.

I tried to stay composed, at first. I sat there with tears in my eyes for about an hour, glaring daggers into the door ahead. It didn't stay that way for long. Soon tearful sighs turned into screams, and screams turned into throwing chairs at the door. I choked on my composure as the last shreds of my dignity were engulfed by flames of panic. I begged for someone to open the door, to come see me. Anything.

Then I reverted to a heap in the corner of the room, trying not to breathe too heavily for fear the room would run out of air.

"I can't breathe," I would whisper, breaking the all-encompassing silence ever so often. The words would collide with the metal walls and disappear, making me wonder if I'd ever spoken them into existence in the first place. "I can't breathe."

I'd heard plenty of stories about soldiers going off to fight in wars and getting 'shell shocked'. They'd, no doubt, behold the worst that humanity had to offer and return home changed because of it-- whether it was a friend getting shot in the face or an encampment being set on fire. I remember seeing one man on the news who ran around Maine for two months, fully believing he was still trapped on the Gulf of Tonkin.

Now, I'd never been to war, but if I had to guess what it would feel like to be 'shell shocked,' then this was it. My entire body trembled while I struggled to adjust to the transitions from freezing cold to burning hot. Nightmares flashed before my eyes, all derived from a doomsdays-like terror that was no doubt about to befall me. Ever so often, my ears rung and my eyes went bleary. It wasn't long before I lost track of the time.

When the door finally opened, I was so overcome with emotion I felt I would collapse. Everything inside of me screamed as I failed time and time again to process what was happening.

"Sixteen?" A voice called from across the room. I heard the sound of the door clicking shut behind them.

I must've been quite a sight to behold. I looked up at whoever had entered through bloodshot eyes and tear-bleached skin. "Why didn't anyone come?" My voice cracked and broke like a flightless bird trying to rise off the ground. "I called. I've been calling. Why did you all just leave me alone in here?"

"I didn't know that you were here. I would've come earlier if I had, I'm sorry." The man walked towards me. Unlike Papa, there was no hesitance when he approached. He was was an older man with greyed hair and crows feet around his eyes. A warm smile came to his face when we made eye contact, but even that scared me. I remember how Brenner had smiled at me when I was first taken to the lab. It was all a rouse meant to steal away my guard. I wouldn't be manipulated again.