Infectious

THE GIRL

Please read, it's actually important!

She paced the large room, unfazed by its size and content. Of course she wouldn't be in the least bit of awe at the crystallized chandelier hanging right above her, covered in cobwebs, or the elegant red velvet love seat near the windowless double Dutch doors she had slept on just the night before. Technically she had lived there for a while. Six, almost seven days now. Most of the time she would last 3 or 4 days, depending on the place and the events occurring.

Seemingly out of nowhere a black widow appeared on her simple black tank top. An obviously surprised gasp escaped as the girl stopped her walk and slapped the spider off of herself. It landed on the ground and began to scurry off, but was cut short by a hasty zap of electricity, ending up smoking and still.

The small young woman raised her hand to look at it and wiggled her pointer finger. Or what you was supposed to be a middle finger. The finger was a smooth, clean metal, and so was the rest of her right hand. The metal didn't exactly just stop at the wrist, silver wires and blue veins mingled together toward her normal, tan arm.

She looked at the spider one last time and then stepped on it with her black combat boots for good measure. She began to walk away from the center of the room but quickly bent forward and flipped once, twice, thrice, and leaped onto a mahogany table with ease. After sitting down on the edge of it, she peered at her metallic hand again. Down the side of her thumb in Braille was the name Cosette Kathrynn Jones and the date 8.7.2573.

"Happy birthday Cosette." The girl grumbled, "Happy birthday me."

She laid her back down on the table and traced the crevices on it. Cosette closed her eyes and took a breath, recalling it all.

Her father had created her hand after she lost her real limb of skin and bone. But that's another story for another time. To her father, creating her a hand was a simple task he was willing to create for the love of his life. He was, of course, the most important person in the whole earth, but still managed to show his love to her. Until he was infected; with his own invention; the first of them all. When he found out she was immune, he turned on her.

He wanted equality. He wanted good traits; personality. Perfection.

The immune are not equal to the Infected and he hated that along with their traits. In his eyes, the Inmune were as far from perfect as it got, they were just a problem, and his daughter was one.

She had to run away with her best friend, Eikko, if she didn't want to be murdered or tested on. And so they did. They survived, and with the guidance of Eikko, they created her metal hand to be more advanced. The thing is, she was different. She was immune, but didn't gain any powers whatsoever. Her hand helped her to defend and offend when needed.

But that didn't prevent her from causing and being the center of trouble. In fact, it made it worse.

Cosette moved her fingers in a pattern that seemed to be repeating itself, then stopped and shot it up above her head. A zap of electricity flew out of her right pointer finger. Her middle finger burned like a large match was on the tip of it. Next her ring finger opened just enough for a small and sharp blade to come out. Lastly, her pinky oozed a soft yellow goop used for healing.

Her eyes shot open and she laid there in shock. Getting up from the table, she snatched her teal and light pink bandana and quickly tied her long black hair into a bun with it. Then Cosette turned and ran out of the grand room with a hopeful smile and a mischievous light in her dark brown eyes.