Monster

Chapter Twenty Three

I tore through the empty halls, rage following me like a tornado. The doors were numbered: I was near the 100's right now. I kept storming, thankful that there wasn't a soul in sight.

The hallways slowly became more office like and less scientific torture lab. The floor was now carpet instead of white-washed tile, the doors were wooden and there was an abundance of fake plants. It smelt like coffee and perfume--and there was a noise, almost like a rumbling, coming from ahead. It sounded like bees buzzing, or an earthquake about to start.

Finally I reached door 214.

The rumbling was coming from inside; but I didn't skip a beat. I opened the door, getting a blast of icy air and...and blinding flashes from a camera.

Fucking shit.

Opening my eyes, I looked down to see hundreds of people seated as in Congress, with two people in the very center with a gavel. I was up high, at least a few flights of stairs up, and reporters were right below me. They were snickering and laughing and pointing.

It was such a great idea not to get dressed, huh? Fucking greatest idea ever.

But I didn't leave. I stood tall and proud in my underwear and bra. I heard some yelling at the bottom and looked to see Dr. Nile and Mr. T in a heated argument. Then my heart stopped for a beat--

It couldn't be!

Joyous surprise filled me. In one of the seats, near the top with the reporters sat Charlie!

He was trying his best not to smile at me--thankfully he didn't look to mad about the knife and security ordeal. It had been so long since I had seen him--at least a month. His head was still bald as ever, and he was wearing his usual black polo and pants.

My attention was called back when I heard the gavel pound and the chatter silence. Mr. T was giving me death stares from his seat with Dr. Nile down at the bottom. He motioned for me to come down to the center, and I walked down the stairs while people dressed in expensive suits stared me down like meat. I clenched my fists and hurriedly skipped over the steps, making sure not to trip.

At the bottom, Mr. T's glare looked much more angry. He took my hand and yanked me up to his ear.

"Where are the clothes I set out?" he said with clenched teeth. He breathed angrily like a bull and was holding my wrist so tight that it was starting to hurt.

"Ripped up and frying on that lovely table I was strapped to," I spat out, making sure to get some saliva in his ear. He stepped back and nodded, then pulled me towards a door by the back of the seat where the gavel was. Opening it, he threw me in and slammed it.

"You had one chance to impress these people. This is a game, Drew. WHY CAN'T YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?"

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I gave him my best glare.

"Maybe if you told me WHAT THE FUCK is going on I would be better behaved! Maybe if you didn't STRAP ME to an electric table I wouldn't walk into giant press-conferences in my underwear. Maybe if you weren't such a dick I would treat you with an ounce of respect--"

My rant was cut off with the painful fire of 200 Watts. I fell to the ground, my mouth open but no scream escaping. I pressed myself up to the cold wall, hoping it would stop.

Stop stop stop stop stop stop.

"Scream, Drew. Scream."

I did. I screamed so loudly my eardrums hurt afterwards. if The Scream by Picasso had a sound effect, I would be it.

I kept screaming until Mr. T had to shake me, even when there was no more electricity. I wanted to die. My hair was fried, my hands were shaking and I couldn't stand up.

"Now, put these on."

He threw me a midnight black military suit, then walked out the door to the rumbling crowd.

I lay there, defeated. I had never once been like this--no hope, no way of escaping. Charlie was here, but I had no idea what he was even going to do. I slowly zipped up the military-like suit and smoothed down my hair. I pressed my mouth into a straight line and shook my head.

Then out into the flashing lights I stepped.

There were gasps, mutters, clicks and the sound of reporters talking. I had no idea what was going on, but it looked like these people had connections to every large networking system in the world. Dr. Nile and Mr. T sat with tens of microphones shoved into their faces, video cameras reflecting their every move. Mr. T speaks first.

"I have called you here today to announce a major advancement in military weaponry," he started, the room now silent and cameras still flashing. Dr. Nile came to stand by me and hissed into my ear,

"Don't say anything."

Mr. T continued.

"The thing you see standing here is not, in fact, a usual girl. We call her Subject Two because she is the second being of her kind. No, Subject Two is not an alien--she was created and modified by our beloved Dr. Nile."

The cameras flashed some more and my eyes started to sting. Dr. Nile stood up and smiled at the crowd, then adjusted his tie with a smug look.

"As you all know, a war is imminent between the U.S.A. and an undeveloped--but still very large and powerful--settlement placed in Alaska and Canada. They have nuclear weapons and the newest technology available," he said, a screen dropping down behind him and showing pictures of giant bombs embedded deep in snow. "Which is why I brought it upon myself to create this new breed--Monster. Subject Two may look human, but her abilities and skills surpass that of even the most highly trained military man."

The screen showed my body; it's anatomy--the video of me killing the robot tiger. There were pictures of me as a child, fighting and solving complicated math problems. I was there, being tortured, with knives and needles inserted into my body. There were no pictures of Alex--no mention of him at all.

When Dr. Nile finished his speech, reporters hands shot up, foaming at the mouths with questions.

"Yes, number 124," Dr. Nile pointed at a lady in a tight business skirt that could have also been used in an inappropriate video.

"You say that this thing is the second of it's kind. Where is the first?" My ears went on red-alert as Dr. Nile thought of an answer that wasn't too revealing but not lying, either.

"He is currently being enhanced. In a few short weeks he'll be ready for training, and then after that I will publicly auction him."

"Sir," another reporter shot in, "the war is said to start in a few short days--is Subject Two ready to battle, and if so, are there others like her?"

"For now, Subject Two is primed and ready to battle at any time," he nodded. Then he looked straight at the camera and smiled. "And yes. There are much more where she came from."

I suddenly felt very sick to my stomach. I was in some crack-pot world where people were having wars and I was supposed to fight, and I wasn't a human and Alex wasn't here--where was Alex? I needed him here and he WASN'T and everything is like a giant, giant tidal wave crushing me; drowning me--