Blood Type-O

Chapter 8: Another D word is Dormitory

Father Hugged us both and gave more praise. His words filled me to the brim and I found myself smiling as I tried to memorize this moment forever. Eventually it ended with father breaking away and going to our mother who was still sleeping. Ana's shoulders sagged with tiredness but a grin remained plastered to her face.

Mother woke up as father nudged her shoulders. she gave him a weary look before pressing her forehead back into her folded arms. Father simply scooped her up and headed outwards the door.

"Come along we're going home," said father attempting to kick the frail door open. Ana moved to pull the door open.

We followed father down another nameless corridor. It was completely silent as far as my ears could hear. This was probably what it was like in an ancient tomb. Dim lighting hung over head making shadows dance and jeer. Ana held my hand and I didn't pull away. There was something so haunting about the Rabid facility.

Father stabbed the button to a rusted elevator. He shifted mother to his shoulder with a slight grunt. I sometimes forgot how strong father was. Maybe it was not seeing him often or the fact that my idea of what father should be like in his mid-forties- balding maybe and a little heavy. That was not the case father must have worked out at the Rabid facility. Why he would need to do so was beyond me. Nevertheless I knew Ana and I could never have carried mother out of here like father could.

The elevator dings and it sounds like a tiny hammer hitting metal- barely a whisper. I only noticed that the elevator came because father started moving into the metal cage. Ana dragged me inside and the door shut behind us sealing us in this metal cage. Father punched a button from one of the many worn rows. Just how many floors did the Rabid Facility have? I doubt I'd ever find out.Hopefully I wouldn't have to see the dark tomb like halls for awhile. Rabids always tend to escape. It's one of the reasons why all Rabid facilities are on the outer most parts of the city. The less citizens in the area the better. Less problems. Easier to capture with sparse hiding places.

"Are you alright?" Father asked as the elevator chugged upwards.

"I'm fine," I said snapping out of another long thought. At least my head wasn't hurting. Was this what it felt like to be normal? Could a person think this much pain free?

"You don't seem fine," Father observed from over his shoulder. Even though deep purple trenches were embedded under his eyes they shinned with intelligence.

"I don't have any head aches," I said. For the first time in my life I don't have these constant migraines there's not even a tiny drummer. It's silent nothing hurts.

"You don't even have a tiny pulse of pain?"

"None."

Father's shoulders hunch together not with the weight of mother in his arms but worry. Why be worried? Shouldn't he be happy? I don't realize I'm holding my breath until the door slid open and I stepped through.

"Hmmm. I'll have to talk to Dr. Barnes about this," he muttered as we continued to walk down another hall. This one had much better lighting. Large florescent tubes of light hang over head bathing the hall in pure light. I can see the pale pristine tiles and the row of never ending doors. These doors look better cared for and not something straight out of a haunted hospital.

"Where are we going?" I asked as we passed a parade of black clad soldiers with hard plastic helmets.

"We're going to my dorm room for the night," father said as soon as the soldiers passed.

"I thought we were going home," I said my heart sinking. I had hoped that I could be back home and away from this facility that was making my skin crawl with unease. I'd rather have been home than stay in this ghostly facility. Better than being near the Rabids.