Tipped fingers

Tipped fingers

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Mon, Feb 20, 20232h 42m
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Fiction
Mystery
7 Criminals around Russia, Korea, and Japan were all sent to a certain jail in America, "The Unwanted", for having unique diseases that have never been heard of before. Instead of being sent to death, each day they're experimented on by the doctors of the prison. This is to find the demanding cure of the diseases that everyone has been wanting, more specifically the News and social media, to know. An example of the experiments would be the doctors injecting different "vaccines" into the sickened's skin, to see if it helps them or defects them. They get the results back once they draw blood from the tested, diseased subject. They're trapped in cells most of the day after their testing, meaning they're rarely ever out of the cells after being "experimented" on. If they were to disobey this law, then they would be sent to the electric chair. They wouldn't send enough bolts to their heads to kill them though, they just severely damage their health and the way they mentally function. Unfortunately, their memories were whipped out, by the nurses, to the extent of their crimes and people they knew before prison. This leaves the diseased to try and find out why they're there and who they knew before this. Of course, the Nurses don't want this because after the sickened kids committed their crimes, they wanted to commit suicide for an unknown reason. They, the doctors and police, need them alive to find the cure and reason for their diseases to avoid them from spreading or occurring again. Will they be cured or is this thing a whole scheme just to torture some murderers? Who will die or eventually snap? Will the criminals ever find out who they truly were or who they knew? Read to find out.
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Static

{COMPLETED} "now that you've had your fun electrocuting me, would you care to hop in the backseat?" ---------------------------------------------------------- Freak DNA. That's what I like to call it. The fault to my genetic code. More often than not, it's a curse. The static running through my blood gave me a name. A cruel, daunting label of a measly bug. A roach. That's what I am to them, to the government. Roach; the nameless monster with electricity for a sense and lightening as a second nature. It ruined my life, the sparking currents playing tag in my mind, running around and bumping into everything, shaking me loose. The government, actually. They ruined my life. My curse just gave them a reason. You see, the normal population with ordinary DNA, they don't know about the people like me. The roaches of the world. We don't get that kind of recognition at the camps. There, we are only one thing in the military's eyes. We are weapons and we will act like it. Everyone else out there, bathing in the goodness they don't know they've got, they don't know about the roaches their stepping on. As long as their getting closer to the sky, they don't care what they stand on to reach it. They don't know about the sparkling dreamer that's killed 7 people before her 17th birthday. They don't about the ghost of a girl peaking around corners for her entire life because even home wasn't safe. They don't know about the fighter of steel and iron sucking on his bloody lip courtesy of the wars he battles in as nothing but a shadow. They don't know about the masked villain who would do anything to see the army they lead claim the throne They don't know about us. But they will, because we will rise. And when we arrive, we will arrive violently. ___________________________________________ Started: 10.06.15 Finished: 3.17.16

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