Fury

1

Fury.
That was all I had ever known.
It was the only thing I needed. I had nothing else.
I didn't think I would ever need anything else.
Until I met him.

The sound of my footsteps echoed throughout the spacious hall, rebounding off the hollow metal walls of the prison. The smell of disinfectant was strong, sending waves of pain through my head. Beneath the strong fragrance, the stench of dried blood. I stuffed my shaking hands into the deep pockets of my jeans, resisting the urge to clutch the sides of my pounding head and scream. How could anyone stand this place?

The man ahead of me, dressed in the stereotypical eggshell white lab coat, stopped for a moment and looked back. His eyebrows were bushy, just like his hair, and furrowed. His face was etched with concern. He held a clipboard in one hand, a pen in the other. My face must have shown extreme discomfort, for he set his pen on top of his clipboard and spoke to me.

"Do you need something to drink, Ashton?" His voice was drenched with annoyance. It was clear that he thought me a hinderance. The smell of disinfectant and blood was enhanced.

"Quite fine, sir. I thank you." I replied through gritted teeth. He gave me a curt nod and continued down the hall. I kept my eyes on the ground, watching my sneakered feet move across the icy stone flooring. Each step echoed throughout the cavern and fueled the pain that plagued my head. How much longer until I get there? How much longer to the place my father insisted I see?

"We're here." My escort declared shortly. My attention returned to him. He gestured to a metal armchair. "Sit there while I speak to the Guardian." I sank into the chair in relief, then jumped up again as my bare skin made contact with the icy metal of the chair. I sat down again, with greater caution not to touch the material.

I sat there, staring at the barren gray wall, for so long, I lost track of time. I couldn't feel anything other than the rough material of my sneakers, my jeans, and the comforting softness of my hoodie. My escort made a reappearance, urgently gesturing for me to enter the room. I jumped to my feet and strode briskly in.

I was met with an even stronger scent of disinfectant, the blood... much less. The walls here were white. Several men, dressed in the uniform my escort wore, sat before a control panel and a wall of glass. I approached them, keeping my eyes on the glass barrier. A long white curtain shrouded the other side of the barrier from view. One of the men caught sight of me. He pushed his thin rimmed spectacles further up his nose and gestured for me to step closer. Hesitantly, I moved closer to him.

"Mr. Arlington I am so honored to be graced with your presence." He blabbed, shaking my bare hands with his gloved ones vigorously. It was an uncomfortable feeling: rubber against skin, but I bore with it.

"My father sent me to observe your work." I said calmly, withdrawing my hands from his. The man looked flustered.

"Of course. I apologize for my unforgivable behavior, Mr. Arlington." He blabbed some more. This man was getting on my nerves, but patient as I was, I gave him a lopsided smile.

"You are forgiven. What exactly do you do here in this specific... booth?" I needed to choose my words carefully. By calling the place something too... homelike, I was bound to be criticized and ridiculed. This booth was obviously not a pleasant room to spend too much of my time in.

"I'm glad you asked, young master." Another scientist spoke up. I turned to see him giving me a tooth grin. It looked menacing, inhuman. "The master sent you here to observe one of his most difficult patients: Patient G-15R2. It is our responsibility to keep the patient contained within the room and prevent it from causing any major disturbances while examining it and performing many series of... tests to determine its capabilities."