Government Experiment (Neko BoyxBoy)

Chapter One

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Patient Alaska          

Running.

All I could hear was the slap of my two feet against the sidewalk as I ran, the noise pounding in my ears, overtaking my loud heart beat.    

I glanced back.     

Three men. Each held a gun. I wasn’t all too sure why they didn’t just shoot me now, take me out of this miserable existence, rid me of the pain in my chest. But they wouldn’t. They needed me.    

I held on tightly to the small teddy bear that I cuddled with almost constantly, glancing back in front of me. Perfect- an alley way was up ahead. I knew this road. I darted down it quickly, the men not quite behind me yet. I know that as they turn into the tiny road, they won’t find me. I’ve already ducked down through the gates of an abandoned old house, one that I’ve stayed in before. I panted hard for a few minutes, peaking up through the semi-closed gates, to make sure that they were gone.     

I heard a clank and a clash behind me. I wasn’t alone. I took a deep breath as I spun to face the direction of the noise. What if they knew? What if they knew I came here a lot, what if they already had someone stationed here, waiting for me to come running in, just so they could handcuff me and send me off to that facility where they take all of their “gone wrong” experiments?     

No. Nu-uh. They couldn’t.    

As I spin around, I’m certain I’m caught, but no. No one. Huh?

My eyes carefully scour the room for any signs of life. Being part cat has its advantages, which just so happen to include being able to see pretty well in the dark, thankfully.    

No one.     

Creepy.     

I take a deep breath and crawl through the small opening which leads into the staircase, quickly shoving my back against the wall, eyes continuing to scan the pitiful room. Its abandoned, of course. The paint is peeling, the bare bricks and boarding under it becoming visible. The floor is just mainly floorboards, the cream coloured carpet that used to reside on the ground now ripped up, and sits in a corner, rolled up, its colour now more brown than white. Ew. There used to be a small window on the left side of the room, but now all that remains is broken glass scattered across the floor and a few sharp shards still sitting in the window sill. The room has some broken and dirty wooden furniture decorating it. My best guess is that this used to be a storage room for the hotel above. And it smells. Eww.    

Ahah! Movement!     

Wait… That can’t be good.    

Oh! Thank goodness. Just rats.     

Wait. Ewww!!!    

Being so distracted by my surroundings, I managed to miss a rustling noise. It wasn’t coming from this room, though. Up the stairs. I told myself to not go up there- I mean, only an idiot would go up out in the light and the open, with no weapons and the ability to fall over his own feet every two seconds. So I couldn’t.     

But, being an idiot, I did.     

I did it without even thinking about it, one moment I was in the dark of the basement storage-like room, next I was standing in the corridor of the old hotel. It smelled in here too. Cautiously, I toed along the hallway until I came to the door that lead up to the lobby. I listened at the door. Definite movement, I could hear it. Probably a man, it sounded to heavy and rushed to be a women. Over the smell of rat piss and mould I couldn’t really smell the guy I was listening in on.     

He was approaching the door- his footsteps were getting closer, much closer.     

Think fast!    

I took a deep breath and quickly swung the door open, ducking momentarily incase he had a gun.     “Alaska!” a familiar voice greeted. Okay, the guy did have a gun. But that was okay. He was my friend- I knew this man.    

Dark brown hair (dyed, originally blonde. I could only guess it would serve as a disguise) and green eyes swimming in a pool of tan skin, thick long eyelashes and a tall stature, this was one of my only friends. He had found me. He wasn’t necessarily manly looking, or particularly handsome, not to me anyway. He was… Beautiful? Yeah. Beautiful.     

I stepped towards the older man as he offered his hand to shake. Having known me for two years, he should know better than that, and I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, burying my face in his neck. I took a deep sniff of his scent, wanting to clear my nose of the disgusting smells that wafted up from downstairs. Not that he smelt much better- we’d both been on the run for months now, and I was guessing he wasn’t much better off than I was, even with a wealthy family. He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t take money out, and he certainly couldn’t ask his parents for money. Just like I couldn’t. Going there would only put them in danger too. He smelled of smoke and coffee. Even back at the Facility he had a particular addiction to caffeine, and he basically lived on coffee. I guessed it must be no different now.     

Anyway. This is Patient California.     

He was patient number six at the Facility. There were maybe fifty of us in total, each given a number and a code that we had to memorise. Our numbers ran from one to fifty, obviously, and as the number got bigger, our symptoms and abilities depleted. As Patient Number One, I was most affected, obviously. The six of us who managed to escape all planned to meet in the City a week or so ago, but it’s been particularly hard to get there. We split up so we would be harder to track down, but it made us vulnerable, and with so many officials and agents after us, it didn’t matter if we were all together or not. We never used our real names. We were signed in under the place we came from. Some of us went by state, others by cities. We didn’t even know each other’s real names. The only people at the Facility who did know our full names were the receptionists- they dealt with all the files.     

Once we were caught, we’d be taken back to the Facility. If we resisted, our families would be told we had died from the Strain, we’d be shot and our papers would be burnt. They would leave no proof.    

So California and I would have to find the others.    

And we couldn’t let ourselves be caught.

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Inspiration- Far Too Young To Die/Panic! At The Disco