24B96X

Sorry for the wait. :)

19 years later...

Elle

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock...

My eyelids shoot open and I gasp, nineteen years worth of air flooding into my lungs, oxygen rushing through my veins. The drip attached to my left wrist falls to the ground, as if by magic. I mentally correct myself. There is no magic here. Not anymore.
My heart works itself into a frenzy, fluttering in my chest, and I cough, my lungs kickstarting. Every fibre of my being vibrates, alive with the unspent energy of nineteen year's sleep.
The glass case rises up and the mechanical arms release my arms and legs, sending me stumbling into the room. I stand up, looking myself over. Surprisingly, my white nurse's dress and leather ankle boots are still intact. I reach up to my hair, sighing with relief as I realise my wild curls are still firmly attached to my head.
A groan startles me, and my eyes flicker upwards. There, in the corner of the office, lies a girl, about my age, hunched up, head in hands, muttering under her breath. As she makes eye contact, a strangled scream escapes her lips, a blood curdling sound, like a wolves' howl and a babies tears.
"Hello? Are you okay? I'm Elle. I'm not going to hurt you. Hello?"
I approach carefully, trying to make my voice as soft as possible. She looks up at me, her scarlet iris's and crimson hair exactly like someone I knew. I rack my brains, trying to think. Think. Just... No. It can't be.
24B96X's child.
I glance at her arm, looking for the tell tale numbers of an inmate.
Instead of a code, a jumble of numbers and letters, a word is written clearly across her forearm.
Her mother's last words.

Thea.

Thea

I gasp, fresh air rushing into my lungs, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. A sharp pain floods through my veins, spreading from my the soft tissue on the sole of my left foot. There, a single drop of blood glistens, standing out, scarlet against the almost translucent white of my skin. I watch the needle retract into the floor, whirring and beeping. My daily vitamin allowance. Administered in the form of an injection every morning, at... 9:32 exactly.
I groan slightly, my bones crunching as I stretch. Great. Today is the 13th of Jahuare. My 19th birthday.
I stare at the floor, waiting for the usual birthday 'surprises'; the recorded message, telling me the date and my age, and a small cake-like thing, iced with something that resembles buttercream. Almost.
A beep sounds, signalling the start of the recorded message.
"Hello..."
The recorded voice pauses, as if wondering whether to use my title or classification.
"Thea. The date is 13th of Jahure, new year 2104. You are 19 today. Congratulations."
The recording doesn't seem quite right. The voice still hesitates at all the same places, but it lacks that... Formality. The American accent is less dull than usual, instead, it has gained a sunny edge, the words springing about, rather than sinking straight away. I sit, waiting for the cake to emerge from the floor. It doesn't. Instead, the voice continues.
"You are almost near the end of your time here. In the next few days, you will be scanned and altered as appropriate. Then, you will be partnered with... Luc, experiment 24A45X, from section M. Until then, your nurse will be reanimated and will be your companion. Thankyou for your cooperation."
The voice fades, leaving a crackling noise hanging in the air. Just as I think the recording is about to end, a voice starts talking frantically, in an accent I don't recognise.
' "Quick, the lab's shutting down! If we're going to rescue her, now's the time!"
"There's no chance. They'll notice us straight away. Rank two nurses are meant to be leaving, we'll be caught immediately."
"Seriously, Laure. She's our only chance. If we can get her to the rebel forces, we will all be saved. These 'New world labs' people will kill her. Kill her."
"But..."
"No buts. I don't care. If we save her we live. End of. Now, I'm going. If you want, join me. If not, go and join the rest of the nurses like the coward you are."
"Ariane... Turn around..."
"NO! I am not going to listen to your stupid opinions anymore. I'm going whether you like it or not."
"Seriously. Ariane. Run."
"No. I don't care."
"ARIANE!" '
The voices are cut off by a high pitched scream, ringing in my ears. I cover them with my hands, head screaming. This is wrong. Torture. The nurses must have pressed the wrong button, this must be some kind of twisted training recording. It can't have actually happened.
Can it?
The screaming dies down, only to be replaced by my own. A woman stands in front of me, arm outstretched. Her wild curls frame her pale, freckled face, cheeks white from nineteen years sleep.
"Hello? Are you okay? I'm Elle. I'm not going to hurt you. Hello?"
I stare at her, shuffling away, until my back is pressed against the wall of the office. She reaches a hand out to me, her chestnut eyes welcoming and warm. I don't trust her. I don't trust anyone.
"Go away."
I mumble, waiting for her to retreat. She doesn't.
So, I lash out, using my nails as claws, screaming wildly. She shrieks, trying to shove me away. Suddenly, an alarm sounds, and her eyes widen, pausing momentarily to glance around. I do the same, then continue to lash out at her.
The alarm stops as suddenly as it started, leaving me and the woman in utter silence. She pushes me, and caught off guard, I stumble, falling to the ground.
In the haze, I just about see a needle, like the one from the morning, rise up. It beeps once, then jabs into my leg. The woman is by my side now, whispering softly. I can't hear her. The fog is descending, leaving my mind shrouded in mist, my heart tangled in shadows...