Instinct

26. Sacrifice

The only thing scarier than being locked up with only her own mind to keep her company was being locked up with five other people subjected to the same horrors as her.

Rebecca hadn’t said much about the new range of study. She hadn’t said much of anything, really, beforehand. That was what set had set Stephanie on edge in the first place. Part of her had wondered what was so bad that Dr. Powell would be so quiet on it, when she was usually the one drafted to break the news to the young werewolf. The other part of her didn’t want to know. It was her only form of self-preservation left.

The morning she was transferred, they removed the silver bands from around her wrists. Stephanie felt the distinct discomfort of dissipating nausea and lethargy as the little spikes in the bands pulled out from underneath her skin. She flexed her shoulders and goose bumps rose along her skin in reaction to the sensation of being strangely uninhibited.

Dr. Powell, along with two other guards, escorted her down the hallway. No one needed to restrain her, or pull her along. Stephanie knew how futile resistance was, so she didn’t try.

It was when they turned down an unfamiliar hallway and passed through sets of heavyset, keypad encoded doors that her gait started to falter. With the silver bands off, she felt her own emotions twofold. Her senses were expanding beyond what she could manage after so long without them. It felt chaotic, unbalanced, and she hated it.

The further they went, the more she picked up from the air around her.

The stink of uncertainty, of pain, of anger, it became stronger as they walked in silence. Rebecca’s heels clipped against the linoleum and echoed in the bright white corners of the hallways. Stephanie looked at the back of the doctor’s head, willing her to turn around and say something. She’d fought so hard to push her emotions, her humanity, down where they couldn’t surface. And with the sickening buzz of silver in her wrists, it had been easy to put it all on mute and pretend that it wasn’t happening.

Now that the control was gone, she felt like the tide was drawing out before a tsunami. She was powerless to stop it, and she felt herself instinctively resisting.

“Rebecca,” she whispered and came to a stop. “Where are we going?”

The psychologist turned around, face mercilessly blank. “It’s just another set of tests, Stephanie.”

Stephanie didn’t miss the blatant omission. The space where she should have said that it would all be okay hung uncomfortably in the air around them, a noose tightening around Stephanie’s neck.

“If you say so,” Stephanie returned.

Dr. Powell’s eyes flashed with sympathy for a second before the mask of composure was reinstated. The lack of trust in Stephanie’s voice rang clear.

She was expected to carry on, not to question, not to resist. So naturally, that’s what she did.

“I’m not going any further until you tell me what’s going on.”

Rebecca stopped short, sighed, and then spun around.

“You’re just going to come with us, Stephanie,” she said.

That accompanied a slight nod in Stephanie’s direction and the quirk of an eyebrow. The guards flanking her suddenly grabbed hold of her arms, pinning them behind her back and putting her weight on her shoulder joints. They pushed her forward, and Rebecca led on.

“Let me go,” Stephanie growled.

She leaned back with all her weight and struggled against them, but they anticipated her every move, wrangling her back onto the path with relentless force. She dug her heels into the ground, she twisted, she clawed, but they would not let up.