Chapter Draft: The Experiment

10th Cycle/32nd Hour/112 Hybrid-Era

My body feels numb, my mind a hazy mess. I am being dragged along a hall by two cryptic figures, my eyes burning from blood, my dangling feet grazing across the cold tile, and with every step I feel as though I am being pulled away from my own mind. I fail to recall the last few minutes, how I came to this moment or where I was being taken. Everything is a blur, even my own name escapes me.

“Ah, good. Sit her here.” The voice sounds miles away but a drop of my blood easily splashes on the floor and speckles his wingtipped shoes. 

The two men drop me onto a hard chair, my body slumps but they pick me up and restrain me, binding my legs and arms and lifting my drooping head so that they can secure something to my temples. The speaker from before makes his way in front of me and leans over so we are face to face. His eyes study my face enthusiastically and then he smiles, proud, lifting a hand to my shoulder.

“Keep fighting, Red, and no one will be able to stop you.” My eyes shoot open, a sudden current racking my skull. I could see light bouncing off of the face before me and his eyes lit up revealing copper irises. “Together we will transcend humanity.” A terrible howl erupts from within me, straining my lungs and my throat. The corners of my mouth threatened to tear…


…the change is sudden. I am still screaming when I wake. My voice resonates off of the walls as I thrash against my leather restraints, arms and legs aching. My heart is pounding in my chest, ready to burst free, and I am clenching my jaw so tight it screams in agony. I can feel the bars holding my restraints to my bed giving way, another determined pull and a loud thunk ensues. My arms fly free and I bolt up, eyes tearing over my surroundings, long tresses of crimson red dance across my shoulders standing out in stark contrast to the room and the bleach white of my garments. Fluorescent lights blare down from above overexposing everything around me. The dull cackleberry brown walls and deep taupe grey tiled floors are devoid of any significant features. I see no door nor  windows. Not even a vent. I rapidly unrestrain my legs and stand from the bed, grabbing it’s sides and flipping it over. Pillow, sheets, and all other proceedings scatter across the floor. There is nothing underneath the bed either.

“Ms. Tindalae, please, calm down.” A male voice coming from somewhere I cannot tell. “You are in no danger.” To the nether with that! It is then that I notice a band on my right arm. I peer down at the information typed out on it:

Tindalae, Phoebe S.| DOB: 2/130/94| AGE: 19| SEX: F| OMM: 8/75/112| SV: PSYCH| *010-49-3250*

My mind turns circles trying to verify any of the information. I clench my eyes tightly shut hoping to force up something. I clench my teeth and shake my head but there is nothing there. Just an empty name and dates; someone else’s life. I can feel my eyes beginning to burn and I’ve started trembling from the tension coursing through me.

A short chime catches my attention and my eyes fly to a suddenly apparent panel on the wall slowly sliding back revealing a doorway and two uniformed men. They step into the room and I cower back, bumping into my toppled bed.

“Ms. Tindalae,” a gentle female voice from behind the men. It belongs to a very short red-haired woman, her inverted bob-cut and straight bangs perfectly accent her over sized teal specs, round face and brilliant eyes.

“I don’t know who that is.” I interrupt her before she can say more. “I don’t know where I am or…or why I am…” I start escalating my voice. “I don’t know what the fuck you people did to me! I can’t even remember what goddamned hand I write with!”

“Phoebe -“

“Stop fucking calling me that!” I scream. The lady jumps back. The guards step forward and I quickly become aware of the restraints still dangling from my arms, the foot long metal bars clatter against the tile flooring. I take the leather straps in my hand brandishing them as improvised flails ready to fight my way out. They couldn’t contain me here. I could see it on their faces; they feared me. They feared what I could do. I would never stop fighting.


Daily Prompt: Panic(09/24)

Word of the Day: cackleberry(09/24)


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