Flight Through Darkness

Lab Rat

Those voices in my head...why won't they stop? My eyebrows scrunch down, eyes tightly shut as if to block them out. But it's no good. Something sharp jabs at my skin, and burning agony surges through me once more, but this time I can feel myself being bodily lifted up. My hand brushes against what feels like glass, then I'm lowered into a pool of cold fluid that reeks of ethanol and ammonia. I open my eyes.

Everything's all blurry and faded at the edges, like old photographs. Sickeningly familiar voices, fading in and out of my hearing. My world is tinted a chemical green, and tastes like pure alcohol mixed with bleach, unbearably bitter, and is that a hint of vanilla too? It's freezing cold and I suddenly realize I'm naked. Tiny bubbles float upwards from the breathing apparatus attached to my mouth. I'm surrounded by a feeling of utter weightlessness, yet my movements are slowed, as if moving underwater.

My vision gradually adjusts, just enough to see the person grinning hideously at me through the glass.

Rick?

That doesn't make sense. Rick's a hospital counsellor. What would he want with me?

As if sensing my thoughts, he smirks at me, before pulling a black recording device from his coat and speaking into it. I strain my ears to listen, but Rick pushes a button on the glass container's control panel, and suddenly I can hear everything clearly.

"Jenova Project, subject L-XXX-301248 has been procured. Subject is an average sized 17 year old female, height 5 feet and 5 inches, weight 115lbs , blood type O, has attempted suicide once, no previous records of any drug allergies." He finishes his recital and looks up at me, grinning.

I don't understand. Number one, where on earth am I? Number two, what am I even here for? Number three, what the heck is the Jenova Project? I'm itching to ask all of my questions, but something tells me I shouldn't say anything just yet. The oxygen mask clamped over my mouth isn't helping with speaking either.

Rick stops recording just as a new figure comes onto the scene. White lab coat, rounded glasses, stooped posture, greasy ponytail at the back, balding forehead...

No...it can't be.

Up till now I've been too confused to be afraid. Now it's the opposite.

"Not so brave now without your little friends, are you?" Hojo sneers.

I scream, but the sound is captured by the mask so that only muffled protests are heard. I don't need to know where I am anymore. Any place with Hojo in it is a place I never want to be at. I've seen what he did to Sephiroth, and I want no part of it. The fact that Aerith, Tifa and myself blackmailed him all those months ago isn't likely to put me in his good books either.

I'm kicking, thrashing, longing to get out before Hojo can do anything else to me, but he merely shakes his head.

"Now, now, you wouldn't want to move too much and rip off the mask, would you? Then you'll drown, and as entertaining as that might be, I can't afford to lose such a fresh specimen." Hojo cackles sickeningly. Seeing the logic of this, I grudgingly force my limbs to stop moving, even though all I really want to do is punch through the glass and rip his head off.

Wait, what?

Hojo's studying me with renewed interest now, one hand scribbling down notes in a clipboard. Shooing Rick away and claiming the recording device,he steps closer to me, and I instinctively cringe back, glad for the glass barrier for once. The way his beady eyes are crawling over me, in a way that's disturbingly triumphant. What did I do?

He raises the recorder, speaking into it and never taking his eyes off me even once.

"Subject L-XXX-301248 is showing a positive reaction to the mako solution, eyes have been observed to change colors from forest green to mako teal when angered. The mako should react when the body's adrenaline level increases to a specific amount, in extreme cases, the eyes should be glowing bright mako green." With that, he sets the device down on a desk after switching it off, staring up at me.

"I have plans for you. Oh yes, great plans indeed, my dear." He cackles, rubbing his hands together. He walks out of the room, dimming the lights until the only thing I can see is his silhouette in the doorway.

"You won't even recognize yourself when I'm done with you."

"You'll see."