The Funhouse (ON HOLD)

Part 4.5: Memories of the Past

       In the deepest part of the woods somewhere in Russia, there's an old, almost abandoned building that is hidden by the numerous oak trees around. The rooms are always occupied by scientists, except for one. In the farthest room of the highest floor of that building, there's a room filled with children and teenagers. All seemed to be either sixteen years of age or younger. Numbers were marked on either their necks, abdomens, or shoulders.

       The numbers are according to each newbie— the last number being the newest, and the first being the one who was there longer than any of them. But numbers one to one hundred weren't there anymore. The scientists have summoned them to play a little game called, "Silent Game". You had to keep your mouth shut and try not to scream when they 'tickle' you or else you have to play a penalty game. The rest of the children remained in the room, waiting for their turn. In the meantime they just played, and whenever a newbie came in, they'd introduce themselves, and offer to play with them. It was an orphanage... or so they say. 

        One of the children, a boy of dark hair and black orbs, claimed that he was stolen from his family. Dvesti Dva knew him by the name of "Sto Odna", Aka #101. He was quite the troublemaker with a screw loose in his head, for someone who was already thirteen years of age. The scientists had a lot of trouble piping him down, because one time, he threatened some of them that he would kill every last person that dared to bother him. This resulted into him getting a check-up from doctors quite a lot. Everyone found him rather odd and creepy, because he always came back from his check-ups grinning like a madman. "I took care of them," he said. "They won't bother me anymore." No one knows what he meant by that, and no one really wants to.

        Dvesti Dva was playing with Sto Sem when the scientists came in. The children stopped playing immediately. There were three scientists: A tall woman with long, black hair tied to a side ponytail with glasses, a stout one with short, curly brown hair, and a single man. The one in the middle, the tall woman, said in a phony-sweet tone,"#101 to #110, it's your turn." The mentioned children grinned, Sto Sem being one of them, and lined up next to the stout woman. The stout woman smiled at them. It was meant to be happy, but her eyes were sad.

        A pair of scissors whizzed past the tall woman, grazing her left cheek. It left a small trail of blood, but she didn't even flinch. She expected that. "Sto Odna," she scolded, narrowing his eyes at the troublemaker. "I told you to behave." he holds up his arms in a defensive gesture. "Whoops, my bad, Vrach Stefaniya." he smiles. "I thought those were toys." the scientist growled in response. "Sharp objects are not toys."

         Dvesti Dva raised his tiny hand, catching their attention. "Vrach Stefaniya!" He said, coming over to the tall woman. The other children stared at him while the scientist silently glared in annoyance. "What is it, #202?"

        "Can I say goodbye to sestra Sto Sem?" Dvesti Dva quickly glanced at said girl. She was wide-eyed, by surprise, maybe, then smiled gently. The stout woman looked at Stefaniya, and said, "You could at least do that." Stefaniya rolled her blue eyes. She quickly put on her 'sweet person' facade again as soon as the children began to murmur things about her—things she didn't want to hear. "Fine then, Steysi." She then looked back at Dvesti Dva. "But be quick, #202."

        The tiny albino boy nodded, then ran past the scientist and glomped the silverette fourteen-year-old Sto Sem. She giggled at how cute he was when he said, "Hurry back." Sto Sem patted his back, and he looked at her with sad, grey eyes. She smiled. "I will. Don't worry." She turned to the scientists. "Shall we go now, Vrach?" The scientists opened the door and left, along with the chosen children. Dvesti Dva caught a glimpse of Sto Odna turning his head and gave him a smirk, which he didn't know why. They went back to their routine, as if nothing happened.

        Dvesti Dva slid back down on the badly-painted wall. He hugged his knees, and rested his head against them. He was going to miss Sto Sem. He was close with the others, but she was like a sister to him. He memorized every detail of her when he had glomped her a few moments before— Long silver hair. Dark, sleepy eyes. Pale, yellow-skin... even her scent. Dvesti Dva was gifted when it came to memorizing. It was a shame that his parents died before he used his gift to bring them joy. "Sestra Sto Sem is coming back..." He murmured to himself, slowly closing his eyes. "She promised.." And he slowly drifted to sleep... though sleep was the last thing he needed. 

        "AAAGGHHH! AAAGGGH! MAKE IT STOP!"

        "Hush now, #137. You're supposed to stay quiet, remember? Those are the rules of the silent game~"

        "Vrach Stefaniya! She's just a girl!"

        "SHUT UP! We've done this with the others, but they weren't so lucky to survive. Now, #137, be a good girl and—"

        "She wouldn't be a girl anymore once you do that!"

        "She'll be a living doll!"

        "Shut up! I WILL learn how to make people immortal! I WILL! SO."

        "AAAAGH!! Gaaaah! A-AAAAAAGH!!"

        "JUST."

        "AAAAAAAAAGGGHHH! "

        "STAY."

        "Ah.. AGHHHHH!! ARGH!"

        "STILL!!!"  

        Damien woke up with a start. He panted heavily, and hugged his shoulders."Oh no.." He buried his head in his sweaty palms as his eyes flickered from grey to scarlet, scarlet to grey, grey to scarlet. He sometimes hated it whenever he had nightmares about what happened seventy years ago. He scratched the mark on his neck, pretending it itched really bad. Good thing the others were asleep. The '#202' gave him terrible memories, and still haunts him to this day, even when he left all that behind him, it still keeps coming back to remind him. "Not again.." He tried to steady his breathing. The Funhouse was nothing compared to what happened in Russia. Not even a bit. Still, being in it... was like being in the orphanage again. And he hates it. He hates it so bad he wants to crumble it to ashes, but he couldn't. No, he can't. Not after what happened before. He had to put up the act of a coward first before anyone realized who— WHAT he was. He was starting to believe his gift of memorization and immortality only made him suffer more than he could actually bear. "Dvesti Dva..." His eyes turned pure scarlet for thirty solid seconds, glaring at his own mark. "I'm not... I'm not..." An experiment anymore.