A Savage Life

Chapter 2

Darrel led me down the hall. Said hall was a neutral, light colored blue, with a splash of green here or there, with no doors beyond what the eyes can see, but there were dozens of people though, standing there grinning as wide as Darrel, and calling me, drum roll please, Neanderthal. Well, save for the one lady who explained to her young daughter that, "I was not a wild species of bald ape, but an Australopithecine, a brutal creature of the fifteenth to the twenty-seventh centuries."

Funny, given how the man with the clipboard connotates me as a Neanderthal, and the fact that these people look no different than me, save for the odd feeling that something was off with them physically, but I never really pay attention to people's looks, only my instincts, and at the moment, they wanted me to run... and bust the mouths of all the people around me...

I crept like an animal after Darrel the whole time, not seeing a window in sight, and getting frustrated of everyone addressing me "Neanderthal." If I ever hear that word again, it will be too soon.

The tiles were a sandy beige color, and the walls were teal giving the feel of a calming ocean. It was almost as if someone was trying to inadvertently keep the peace around here without using sheer force or intimidation tactics. It did nothing to curb the growing anxiety that this whole place felt wrong inside me.

It wasn't long before the hallway opened up it's invisible, sliding doors and Darrel led me into a small, cramped room with several men with wide, creepy grins looking as if they were getting ready to do a well-choreographed dance for us, which gladly, they were not. Their hands were clasped together, their feet shuffling towards us in unison, and behind them, a table with only a glowing ring the size of my wedding band. A man approached me, his chocolate hair illuminating his flashy sweatpants and his purple sweater as he stood before me with his perfect, pearly whites. His purple flip-flops and gigantic smile said it all that he would have me next. And by the other men silently standing there like models, still smiling, you could tell that the man in front of me was obviously the leader of the pack.

He addressed me first, greeting, "I am Trey and I will be cleansing you today."

He held out his hand to me, and Darrel grabbed it and pushed it back towards Trey before announcing, "Subject 2 8 6 is a Neanderthal. They have no formalities."

And just like that, Trey's gleaming eyes and dying smile looked of that like a child being forced to do chores on a Sunday morning. I guess mine would too if somebody told me that the person beside them was just an ape. Then again, I'm the kind of person that would kick someone through a wall for saying that about anyone, nevertheless myself, but as I can see, I don't see myself sadly doing that to any one of these people here. Especially Darrel.

Trey looked up at Darrel and said, "You know that I am not allowed to touch him. Give him back to the scientists. He's their problem."

A problem? Scientists? What's going on here? Why was Trey eyeing me like an Area 51 escapee? Perhaps I really was, I've been a star witness to many strange things in life. Maybe not Bigfoot or aliens, but freaks incidents

"The scientists had instructed me to bring him to you for cleansing, and to Anastasia for dressing. You may review my notes if you would like." Darrel replied.

Trey hastily snatched away the clipboard, commanded the clipboard to see Darrel's notes and gasped at what he had read.

"Although this is very strange," Trey said, looking up. "I must commence immediate orders. I hope that whatever they have planned will not backfire on me, as you contain knowledge of how I feel about the process of dying."

And he grabbed me behind my back and pulled me toward the men. Darrel said nothing, but he, like Trey and the men, kept a continuous grin on his face.