Number Eight // Five Hargreeves

XX

Tessa's POV

"Beginning trial 37.  Subject is critical.  I will now inject sample 6 into the blood stream."  

Sharp pain shoots through my brain like a rocket.  My eyelids are incredibly heavy.  I don't think I can lift them even if I tried.

"Subject responding rapidly."

The noise of what sounds like a heart mointor starts increasing.  A wave of panic fills the overlapping voices of whoever is around me.

Not being able to bear the curiosity anymore, I take every ounce of strength I have and open my eyes.  White luminescent lights cause me to squint from the brightness.

"Inject vial 12 quickly!"  

The rushing around me becomes even more apparent once the yelling begins.  I hesitantly pull myself into a sitting position while grimacing at the migraine that keeps reminding me of it's presence.   

Am I in a lab?  

There's people in white coats running around frantically crowding towards the center.  I pull myself up while stumbling slighty, wanting to see what the commotion is about.  

"Heart beat decreasing sir!"  

A small, frail girl lies on a silver table in the middle of the room.  The heart monitor connecting to her is becoming less and less on beat as time passes.  This only sends the people surrounding her into more panic.  A man in a white coat comes barreling towards me, not giving me enough time to move.  But we don't collide.  He simply walks through me as though I weren't even there.

Am I dead?  I don't think anyone even knows that I'm here.  Whever here is anyway.

Having a hunch I walk towards the girl on the table and take her cold hand in mine.  I turn it over to reveal a small outlined umbrella with the number eight inked into her skin.

Well I guess I should say my skin.

The man comes back frantically getting a syringe ready and pushing it into my bloodstream.  I watch as the liquid gets pushed out of the plastic tube and into my younger self.  The commotion stops as the heart beat becomes consistent once more.  It was as though the room itself let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Trial 37: unsuccessful."  

The one and only Reginald Hargreeves stands before me as he rubs his temple at the clear failure of what had been Trial 37.  He clicks the recorder in his hand and it stops buzzing once he finishes his final statement of the experiment.

The rest of the men begin filtering out due to the unsettling sight of Reginald being utterly defeated.  I watch as Grace walks up to him and rests a reassuring hand on his arm.  He immediately shakes it off and throws everything remaining on his desk to the floor out of pure rage.  Grace doesn't seem too surprised but she does hold sympathy in her eyes.

"Her body has rejected every sample of Number Six."  He states.  Grace takes a step forward.

"That's alright dear.  The rest have been very successful so far-"

"She needs Number Six's abilities!  The rest won't be enough!"  He snaps cutting her off promptly.  He sighs and regains his composure.

"Number Six is the only one who will be able to help her.  The rest make her powerful but with his abilites matched with her own?  She will be unstoppable."  He whispers more to himself than Grace.  She looks over at my smaller self with saddness in her eyes.

"Mom..."  I whisper in a desperate attempt for her to hear me.  Her eyes don't move from my body.  

I reach out and rest a hand on her shoulder.  I watch as she shudders slightly but not enough for her to question anything.  A wave of pain surrounds my heart as she walks away silently, kissing Reginald on the cheek before she walks out the door and leaves him to his thoughts.