Out of A Shell (Dash Parr x Fem!Shy!Reader)

Poor Choices

Warning: This chapter contains a section having descriptions of vomiting. If you have emetophobia, I marked the place where it happens and ends so you can be aware.

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A door was closed, and a light was flicked on.

It wasn't intense enough to brighten the whole room, but it was enough for the man to walk to his worn desk without the risk of hitting anything. He sat in the old, cushioned rolling chair in front of it, and moved the hanging end of his white coat to a more proper position so it wouldn't pull on his body.

As he put the stuffed folder he held under his arm down on his desk, his free hand went to pull a drawer open, taking out a small device.

He opened the folder, re-arranging the documents in it before carefully reading over them all. After a moment, a click sounded as his thumb pressed a button on the device, which he then held up to his face.

"Development Log: X-MH01. Number 2-8." He began to speak.

"Experiments initiated by Dr. Guld on Subject had mixed results. Augmentation sessions were successful. Resiliency tests ended in failure. Subject struggled to regenerate in an expected period of time. More examinations on Subject's DNA and further alterations may be required."

He moved a page aside to look at a different one.

"When placed in the training chamber, Subject passed the given objectives and exceeded them. Subject's combat ability has improved by an estimated 30%. Subject has demonstrated a higher understanding on how to cause incapacitation. Subject did not show hesitance in attacking all simulation targets, regardless of appearance or size. When requested to use lethal attacks, Subject complied."

He held up another sheet.

"Due to the improvement, Mr. Celent has requested for Subject to be prepared for deployment, occurring in an estimated 3 months. Subsequently, obedience training and sanity tests must be made more frequent and thorough. We cannot allow Subject to enter the field without assurance that control will be maintained."

The man placed the sheet back down into the folder, and leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. He moved his hand up to drag his fingers through his hair, and a somewhat shaky breath was quietly exhaled.

"...End log."

~~~

~Reader's POV~

I woke up Monday morning, with my skin chilled.

The first thought to cross my conscious mind, was if Mom would get mad if I tried to turn on the heater again...

But then I remembered, she was still gone.

I sat up from my previously lying-down position on my bed. Following the same routine I always did, I looked past the scattered rays of sunshine shining past my closed curtains and looked at the alarm clock on my nightstand. It was just past 7 am.

Huh. Why didn't my alarm go off? I have it set to 6 am...did I sleep through it? Seemed likely, but I've never done that before.

Whatever, I could tinker with it later. I had less than 30 minutes to get ready, before the school bus came. I pushed my comforter off of me, exposing more of myself to the cold air hanging in my room, which caused me to shiver lightly. I paid no mind to it, and got along with my morning routine.

During it all, my stomach rumbled. It reminded me that I didn't eat a lot yesterday, and I honestly didn't feel like getting anything to eat now, but potentially dealing with a rumbling stomach up until lunch didn't sound fun. Guess I'll grab something to snack on before I leave.