I wake up on my stomach, face pressed into a cool surface. The floor is colder than usual, if that’s even possible. I can’t move my arms nor my legs. My throat is sore and dry. I crack my eyes open slowly, expecting to see patches of light on the concrete. Instead, I see a metallic reflection of myself, gray like everything else here. My eyes widen and I thrash violently, trying to get my limbs to move. Where am I? What’s going on? Where’s Alex and Ever? And why the heck am I in a dress? Hmph, thin one, too.
I’m torn away from my thoughts when I hear a door open and swing shut, the distant tap tap of heels echoing, seeming to emanate from every direction. The tap tap grows steadily stronger. Another door opens, the swinging of the door extremely close. The tap tap is right by my ear. I crane my neck to see the source of the footsteps. The owner of the noise is turned away, facing the metal counter opposite of me. She’s tall, with mousy brown hair pulled tight into a bun. Dressed in a pristine lab coat and carrying a large, black suit case, she fluidly pivots to face me. I quickly narrow my eyes to feign sleep. Through my eyelashes, I see her face is riddled with dozens of scars, old and new, the largest running through her left eye, coloring it white, crossing the bridge of her nose and stopping at the bottom of her other pale blue eye.
She taps a device embedded on the inside of her wrist. That’s disgusting. “Cell 13, Alexandra Kae Breac, Subject Gamma.” A computerized voice states. “And the brother? Was there any difficulty?” the woman asks, shuffling through glass containers on the metal table. “Cell 13, Alexander Zane Breac, Subject Delta. Acquired with difficulty.” The woman freezes. “State the difficulty.” She demands, suddenly alert. Alex? “Handler attacked by Cell 13, Argenta Ever Radke, Subject Alpha.” Argenta? I knew she was keeping secrets. I hear the woman put the suit case on a metal surface and unlatch the clasps. She pulls a small, rolling metal table with the case beside me. “That girl…” the woman mutters. “Damage done to Subject Alpha?” “Yes; right abdomen punctured. Internal organs also punctured.” The voice answers monotonously. She huffs. “Lower enhancement suppression level of Subject Alpha to 90%. Eliminate Subject Delta’s handler.”
My eyes shoot wide open. Eliminate?! A gunshot rings out from the halls soon after. The woman indifferently turns to the case, as if she didn’t just murder someone. She pulls on latex gloves, the rubber slapping against her wrists, sending echoes through the room, and gingerly lifts the object in the case. The woman then turns back to face me, menacing syringe in hand and tipped with a long and sharp needle. The syringe is attached by a thick metal wire to the case. An almost glowing turquoise gel fills the syringe’s vial. She takes a step towards me, that annoying tap ever present.
“Hello, dear. Do you know who I am?” the woman asks, falsely sweet. “Why would I? Why am I here?” I try to shout at her, but my voice only comes out as a small, hoarse rasp. Oh, look how pathetic I’ve become. “No need to be rude, now darling. I’m sure your friend has told you about me. I’m Ms. Kirkelie or the Warden, as Ever likes to call me. And you? Alexandra, Alexa, or maybe even your middle name Kae, like your new friend, Ever? As for why you’re here, well sweetie, you are very special. You are unlike most humans, unique. We, Everstorm, are here to help you recognize the potential of your special traits.” Smiling sickly, she positions the needle right between my shoulder blades. “But I’m not special! I’m just another normal person. Why me of all people?” I rasp. “Shhhh. Enough talking now. But maybe we can chat later, if you survive this.”
The woman thrusts the needle through my thin white dress and deep into my back. I feel my bone split as the needle punctures my spine, white hot pain searing through my body. I’m burning I’m burning I’m burning. My vision blurs as I struggle to stay conscious, gasping. My bones are on fire. I’m on fire. Everything’s on fire. A scream echoes from another room. Or maybe it’s my own. “Ah, ah, ah. Stay awake, dear. You’re not done yet.” She says in a sickly sweet voice. An electric shock runs through me, jolting me awake. She presses her wrist thing again. Glass walls rise up around the table to meet the ceiling, Everstorm engraved once on each of the four panes. The woman looks distorted through the walls, tapping her wrist device again. Another shock brings me from the edge of unconsciousness. Please, please just let me go. My head starts to pound as red light reflects off the metal table and into my face. Pain flares, somehow worse than the needle. My blood is boiling. I can’t feel my limbs. My head is about to burst. My body is baking. Another shock travels up my spine, this time duller. I faintly hear the robotic voice as I drift in and out of consciousness. “50 beats per minute, 43 beats per minute, 29 beats per minute.” The voice drones. Black starts to fill my vision as Kirkelie’s distorted form violently presses the device in her wrist, shouting words unheard to me. “21 beats per minute, 13 beats per minute, 7 beats per minute.” I slip into darkness as the red light finally fades.
