Something Terrible: A Short.

The girl woke to nothing.
An immense whiteness; the stench of foul disinfectant. Scientific smells. Clean smells. Scientific.
With shaking fingers, she raised her hands to her face.
Pale, she was. Pale and fluttering with lack of stamina. That it took so much energy to simply lift her hand, said a lot.
The girl was lying on a bench. A long, metal, cold-at-her-back bench. Also scientific.
Clearing her throat was a little torture. Rasping and hacking - as if she hadn't drank in years.
Her gaze wide, the girl raised herself into a sitting position: this seeped even more energy from her. She sat, winded and panting for a few long minutes.
Behind her, a brief tapping noise filtered through her ears. Light. Feather-light.
The girl turned, seeing nothing, yet capturing a brief glance of something moving at the corner if her vision.
She whirled around once more.
Then caught her reflection in the reflective steel mirror of the room.
A pair of broad tawny, scrawny wings protruded from her shoulders.
Ugly. Gawky. Horrific. Horrendous.
Tears sprang, unbidden, to the girl's eyes.
She could remember nothing about how she managed to become in this room. All she knew was now.
Wings.
Someone had done something terrible to her.