Facility 778

7534: Amano

The intercom buzzed, "All subjects report to your assigned mess hall, all subjects report to your assigned hall." The announcement rang after I actually woke up, so once the announcement was made I was already halfway down the hall before anyone was out of their beds. It had been the same routine for me for four years, wake up, work out, to the mess hall, let the day begin.
I entered the mess hall, only a few other people were there as well, "Marcus!" I heard my name called, it was Shawn, Shawn Bello, number 7734, one number off from me, and a good friend. We were totally different, he was tall and lean, yet gentle and quiet. I wasn't short but I was no where near as tall as him, but I was muscular and strong and loud. He was also from Nigeria, or at least that's what they told him, I was from Japan, at least that's what they told me.
"Hey, how are you doing, man?" I asked enthusiastically, greeting him with a handshake and a smile, before we could continue, the sharp sound of a whistle cut through the air, we were to get in line.
We did so, moving quickly to make a long single file line that stretched through the mess hall.
I noticed something out of the corner of my eye, a pale young woman making her way into the line. I would have left it at that if I didn't notice her face, it looked so sad, sunken in and tired, just tired, and her eyes were a dull orange color, unlike any I had ever seen. But almost everyone there had strange ones, hell I had violet ones, and Shawn's were a sharp, pale blue, but I had never seen any like hers.
I was snapped back to attention when the Supervisor started calling out numbers, I heard mine "Here." I stated clearly. A couple more numbers were called and then the number,"3363," There was a faint response, so The Supervisor said it again, "3363," a slightly louder response, But she wasn't happy. The Supervisor got down from her post and made her way to the origin of the meek responses, the Orange Eyed Girl. I didn't hear the words exchanged but any idiot could tell they weren't pretty. The Supervisor was finally making her way back, but then she stopped, dead, cold. She turned and made some sort of comment to, who I could only assume was Number 3363. And then I heard it, "My name is Mary Waters." All of the estranged eyes were staring now, awestruck by the fact that this girl, who was at a major disadvantage in her current situation, would blatantly break a rule ' To your superiors you are known as your number, Not your name. That is what you are identified as, that is what you will be called, no questions asked.' It was common sense, everyone knows that. And then came the screaming, the Supervisor was letting out a high pitched shrill, I looked up to see Number 3363, hand at the ready, her eyes were shooting daggers, and the Supervisor, her arm being bent and misshapen by the ability that Number 3363 possessed. I didn't even realize what I did until I was half way across the room in a dead sprint towards her.
I tackled her to the ground, she was so small and frail, almost brittle. The force I used knocked the wind out of her and smacked her head against the hard cement. Both women were on the ground, the Colonel fell from relief after I pacified the Girl with the Orange Eyes, and those same orange eyes, as I looked down at her, seemed clouded, and they were wandering. As quickly as I took her down I was taken off of her, she was put onto a stretcher and carried away. I was simply escorted out to go back to my room to 'Cool down' as the officers said, and I cooperated without a word.
...
Once they felt I was ready to rejoin the group, I was allowed out of my room and towards the training facility. This was were I was meant to be, but yet those orange eyes still stayed in my memory. I wasn't focused, I had bad form, I nearly dropped the two ton weights which had normally been so easy for me to lift. Eventually, after two hours or so of under performing, The Supervisor, now with a cast on her arm, said to me, "7534, why don't you go visit your Doctor." For some reason that command embarrassed me, but I simply said, "Yes m'am," as two uniformed figures began to lead me out of the room.
...
I was sitting in a Doctor's office, a clean white Doctor's office with a large mirror on the wall beside me. In my four years there I had rarely been inside of one, that was maybe the third or fourth time I was there.
I heard the heavy door open, Dr. Montesinos entered, his tan skin contrasting the pale room. "Hello Marcus, obviously you're not doing to well, or you wouldn't be here," he said with a friendly smile on his face, I just looked at him. "Anyway, we're just going to start with a physical exam, so, oh...damnit, I left my stethoscope in the other room, I'll be right back. Just sit tight." He left his clipboard on the table.
Curiosity got the best of me, I grabbed it off the table and started flipping through the pages attached to it. I saw it, those  four numbers, and a name, 3363: Waters, Mary, that poor girl I had tackled to the ground. I heard the door open, there was no point in hiding the board, he had already seen it. "Marcus, what are you doing?" He asked gravely.
"I'm sorry, I was just... this girl, I really hurt her."
"Oh, you mean Mary."
"Yes, yes Mary, do you know if she's ok?"
"Yes, she's fin-"
Dr. Montesinos was cut off by the white light flickering, and the person on the other end speaking into the small bud in his ear.
"What's going on, what's happening, talk to me!"
"..."
"She's wha-alright I'm coming, I'm coming."
He left me without another word to me, the lights still flickering, his footsteps pounding down the hall.
But, like the good soldier I was, I stayed put. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened that caused the Doctor to leave in such a panic, but there was no point in wondering; I knew I wouldn't get an answer.