Два́дцать Де́вять

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Despite the rather painful and crude introductions, Viktor was unlike the rest of the members in The Resistance. He wasn't cruel and bloodthirsty, rather, he was scared and confused. In the attempt to keep her distracted to the best of his ability, he asked her about her origins, her home life, if she had any family; and in turn, she learned about his origins. A German man, born and raised in the Keilerkopf human reservation northeast of Munich, 5 or so kilometres from city limits. Unlike most human reserves, Keilerkopf allowed human-animalloid interactions, with some humans even allowed to visit the city of Munich. According to Viktor, he was lucky to have grown up in Keilerkopf, as it fixed his opinion on the animalloid race as a whole.

He told Mariya about how he was talked into joining The Resistance. He told her that, even though he never meant any ill will against her species, he couldn't argue that her species didn't feel the same in a lot of places. He talked about how he was told it was a peace organisation; interested in equal rights for all species. He fought against the medical chair head, who took a keen liking to him, about having a skin sown to his face; and lost. He fought against the medical chair head and medical wing about their values with animalloid patients, trying to encourage normal treatments; and lost. He fought the inner circle to try to see his family again; and got told he couldn't leave. He didn't know what to do, and was worried that he would be next on the chopping block if he pushed any more. Thus, he did what they asked, no questions.

Despite the hateful view of the animalloid captives, he still tried his best to help. He disposed of Mariya's lower leg and claimed it was too fractured to save for research. Upon the procedure's completion, he slipped her a secret set of ibuprofen tablets to help with swelling and pain, and injected her with a dose of morphine, and sent her on her way - with the help of guards - stating he would see how she was doing in a week.

It was nice to see a friendly face down here, and it was far from an unwelcome sight. To Mariya, it could be useful to have any kind of ally to aid in her survival. It was, as if, mercy fell into her lap.

Back in her cell, she stared at the bandages around her now-amputated lower leg. Effectively, The Resistance made it impossible for her to escape. Even if she somehow miraculously escaped, how would she live life like that?

Would she want to?

Mariya sighed, closing her eyes and resting her head on the brick-and-mortar wall. Under her breath, she cursed; she cursed her mother, Alyosha, Leoniklese. She blasphemed her life, a vast sea of regret washing over her. This life she built for herself - this false life - was as much a red herring as getting this Hunt over with.

She, rightfully, was out of juice. She couldn't do it anymore.

She had given up.

This was it. She was a failure.

A single tear rolled down her cheek. She didn't even have the strength to cry. Through unsteady breaths, Mariya sat there - eyes closed - contemplating. So lost, was she, in her own thoughts that she didn't hear the voice of Yani's captured father, who was attempting to get her attention. As she began to slowly come back to her senses, that all too familiar Turkish voice that kept her relatively sane for the past month or so, finally began to have audible echo.

"Mariya!" The croc whispered, waving his good hand around in an attempt to catch Mariya's visual attention from stimulating her peripherals, "Hey, Mariya!"

Mariya's left eye passively twitched as she slowly turned to face his concerned mug across the room. Despite being responsive to his words, she still wasn't completely in the present.

"What the in hells happened to you?" He asked, attempting to shift around in his own cell to catch a better glimpse of her newly amputated leg. "Orospuçocuğu, they really fucked you up. Why?"

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