Supernatural

05

JULY — "THE LAB" — 7:49 AM

Morgan screamed and struggled against the guards, and she was damn proud. She wasn't going to let them drag her off like a rag doll. And she was happy they knew she was still human. Not T2832, not just a supernatural, and not an it.

They had come into her room to take her away. She didn't know why, but she had come to a realization.

She had only been there a few days but despised their well oiled machine of broken supernaturals. Joey and Casper were right. If she had kept on the facade, she wouldn't have been on her way to her torture chamber. But their sense of logic was so twisted and awful, and she couldn't follow it anymore.

They'd wait until she was fully broken. But as of then, she wasn't yet. A small part of her knew they'd make her dead on the inside eventually, but she just kept telling herself that it hadn't happened yet. So she wasn't going to pretend. Especially when she knew that at some point she wouldn't be acting.

Because her life was over. Morgan's mother thought she was a monster, her old friends thought she was a monster, and her old life disappeared at the snap of her fingers. And it was so horrible that she knew her future would be nothing like her past, and that her future would include an emotionless, obedient, murdering savage. And no matter how much she struggled in these people's hands, that would still happen.

But here she was. Knowing all this, but still trying to wiggle out. Because even though she knew there was no point, she still fought.

They threw her in an identical room to her other one. She yelled out and her telekinesis went crazy, things crashing to the ground and flying around, even pieces of the wall flinging out. Her hands at her side were glowing with blue wisps, and she could only imagine her eyes were melting into their icy blue colour.

She was so angry. And she couldn't control her frustration anymore. Guards came rushing in with a needle but she barely noticed them, the nightstand being flung into one of them.

Then she ran out of energy, and collapsed. She kept flickering in and out of consciousness. One minute, Morgan saw them hauling her limp body up.

Darkness.

Then, she was sitting on a chair, her head resting on her shoulder so her vision was lopsided. She faced a long horizontal mirror, and could see that her skin was oddly pale, her hands occasionally letting out tiny, unthreatening sparks.

Darkness.

Morgan saw the same as the last time, but this time, she could feel restraints loosely around her wrists, chest and ankles, restricting her to the chair. If she had been more conscious, she would have yelped when they tightened all the straps, almost cutting off the circulation.

Then, it all went black and she no longer could see anything.

JULY — "THE LAB" — 9:05 AM

When Morgan woke up, she immediately wished she was back in the soft, comforting abyss. A throbbing pain pounded through her head, her body exhausted and worn. But what woke her up was a searing pain in her arm. She let out a shriek, and looked towards the source. A guard held a sharp dagger and had dragged it across her skin, puncturing it as dark blood swept out.

"Enough," Leonard said, softly. He was in front of her, the mirror gone and replaced by an identical window to the next room where he stood. "She's awake. We wait until later for that."

The man holding the weapon nodded, and put it by his side. She had two guards, one on the left and another on the right. Both more pristine, white suits, their hair cut close to their head barely a centimetre long. And if she wasn't confined to the seat, she would have splattered the crimson liquid they chose to expose all over their suits.

"T2832-"

"Morgan," she corrected, trying to not let the tears pricking at her eyes flow down.

His jaw clenched. "T2832," he continued. "You produced an immense amount of energy today. Highly impressive. You will prove useful. However, your obedience skills are not adequate and not up to date with the others. Your reckless behaviour could effect the others."

"I hope it does," she spat. Then, she felt a shockwave dance through her body.

"If you would be more compliant, it'll be less painful," he said gently.

"You don't give a shit about me," she seethed. Another surge of electricity.

"I do, in fact, care about you," he stated. "So much power should not go to waste. I don't take any pleasure in this."

"Bullshit. I don't matter to you. It's what's inside me that does."

"You would make a fantastic solider, T2832. You just need some persuasion."

"Is that a fancy word for torture?" Morgan sneered. She didn't know where the bravery was coming from, but she didn't deny it either. She knew she wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"Please don't make this any harder than it has to be, trainee," he sighed.

Her body shook with another agonizing jolt.

"You can stop this all if you acquiescent."

She gritted her teeth. "Never."

He gave her a disappointed look, then the glass turned back into a mirror and the men left her. Her arm was still bleeding and hurting like hell, but the shocks made it worse.

Then, the electric chair began again, but this time, they didn't stop. It was on a continuous, painful loop. She screamed loud and long, occasionally having to stop for air, then returning. Tears streamed down her face. She soon passed out from pain.

JULY — "THE LAB" — 5:38 PM

When she woke up, a bright light was in her face, which she soon realized was only the lights of the room. She squinted, bringing up her hand to block it but was unable—her wrists restrained. Morgan didn't think she'd be able to either way. Her body felt so tired, and she was in agony. She was hungry and thirsty, which made her wonder how long she'd been out for. It had to have been at least a couple of hours, because her wound had already closed with a barely visible scar thanks to her advanced healing.

The speaker cracked to life. "What is your name?"

She didn't answer.

Morgan yelped, a wave of pain washing over her from the chair.

"What is your name." This time, she could identify it clearer. The man saying it didn't say it as a question, but more like a statement.

She whimpered. "Morgan," she croaked, her voice gravelly and dry.

Another jolt of electricity. This was felt worse, and possibly longer. She could feel it dancing through her veins as an after effect.

"What is your name."

She felt fat droplets fall down her cheeks in frustration. They were asking for her name, and she goddamned gave it to him. "What do you want me to say?!" She yelled, shaking her chair as if she could possibly escape.

"I'll talk to her," a second voice said. She recognized it.

Then, the door opened and Lenard entered, in all his creepy, smiling glory. Morgan glared as angrily and fiercely as she could, feeling the tears from the previous torture session roll down her cheeks, making it much less intimidating.

"We've gotten your tests back," Leonard said, with his usual smile. "You've gotten a one and half out of fifty! Below ten means you get to go into the ASTs. Usually, your punishment would finish for the day, but you'll be staying here longer so we can push you to be the best you can be."

No.

Morgan almost burst into tears. One and a half. At any other time, in any other circumstance, she would loved the idea of being almost the most powerful type of SN out there. But how could she be delighted of having a much longer, harder torture session?

She thought back to when she was screaming for them to let her go, and fighting. She didn't have that much hope, but still had a tinge. Now, it was smashed to pieces. There was no getting out now.