10 September 2012
'Inmate 24B96X Female Born in captivity, 24/06/23 Classification X34T90'
I never knew my mother. They killed her as soon as I was born. They do that to all of them, murdering the mothers as soon as the child is safe. That way they can blame it on the childbirth. Say it was a miscarriage. That they lost too much blood. Cover up their tracks. Another scream rings throughout the maze of cells and I shudder, huddling further into the corner, shielding my stomach. It dies down, slowly, and the familiar eerie silence that reigns over this hell, takes hold once more. I sigh and think of her, the mother I never knew. She would have been kind, wonderful, pretty, helpful. Perfect. A loud ringing interrupts my thoughts. Examination. Great. I scowl, then stand up, supporting myself against the wall. A nurse stands outside my cell, humming lightly to herself. 'Inmate 24B96X?' I nod. 'Dr Linford wants to start the next level of his experiments. You are required to meet him at lab 45B. Follow me, now.' She glances at me, and wrinkles her nose up in disgust, as if I was no more than pile of rubbish. As soon as I exit my cell, she clips of a pair of handcuffs onto my wrists and leads me down the corridor. I peer into the cells as I pass, staring down on tired women, violet circles spreading underneath their eyes, some clutching their stomachs, others huddled up, whispering to themselves. Some, aren't really human at all. Genetically engineered, modified, their DNA tangled in a heap, too tired to sort itself out. Wings, tails, paws, scales, flames, ice, water. They are what I will become. An experiment gone wrong. I continue to shuffle across the grimy floor, closely following the nurse. She stops, pushing me into a room labelled 'Lab 45B'. Inside, stands a man, his almost white hair illuminated by the intense light coming from the celling. 'Here she is, Doctor. Inmate 24B96X, as you requested.' He turns slightly, acknowledging the nurse. 'Thankyou Ingrid. You may leave.' The nurse shuffles out of the room, giving me an evil look. She shuts the door behind her, sealing my fate. I shuffle uncomfortably, aware of his gaze. 'Sit here, please.' I do as told, and sit on the small table, my dull maternity tunic matching the grey of the steel. He unclips the handcuffs, then wanders off, returning with several vials and a syringe. I inhale deeply, fear overwhelming me. He mutters to himself, then takes the syringe and extracts something from a vial. I glance over at it. 'Virus X' is printed on it's label. Something inside of me snaps, and I jump up, shouting at him at the top of my lungs. 'No! You can't do this! I hate you! No! Get off me...' He presses a red button and two guards troop through the door, one wielding a gun. I lash out, but before I can hurt either one of them, the Doctor throws something at me. I scream as a sharp, intense pain floods down from my head, and my ankles give way. Black spots dance behind my eyelids and there's a roaring in my ears. I lift my hand up to my head. It comes back, covered in a warm, sticky liquid. Blood. My body grows limp, and the last thing I notice before the darkness takes hold is a sharp pain as the syringe enters my arm.
I wake in my cell, sweat trickling down my forehead. Panting, I try to heave myself up, but I can't. The weight of me and my child is too much for me in this weakened state. A pang of pain shoots up from between my shoulder blades, and I let out a strangled scream. It is followed by another, then another, until it feels like there's a red-hot poker jabbing me in the back repeatedly. I drag myself into a sitting position, exhausted. My vision blurs and my skin flares, burning up. I gag as my stomach churns threateningly, overwhelmed by nausea. 'Help!! Someone!!! Please!' Too late. Another wave of pain floods my body, spreading from my head down. I splutter, coughing out droplets of blood, scarlet diamonds sparkling in the light. My head screams and my eyes water, tears streaming down my porcelain cheeks. The roaring in my ears returns, closely followed by the black spots. Something seems to be forcing it's way out of my back, clawing at my ribcage, scratching at my heart. The ground slips away beneath me, leaving me falling in darkness.
I pace the length of my cell, hands resting on my stomach. Two weeks. Two weeks since I got infected. Two weeks since I changed. I glance at myself in the mirror, admiring my wings. Paper thin and translucent, a deep red colour that matches my hair. Instead of the usual cornflower blue, my iris blaze, glowing scarlet and crimson. They did that to me yesterday. Took me to lab 23A and operated on my eyes. Injected cat DNA into me, to see if I could see in the dark. I can't. Neither can I fly. But, now, none of that will matter. Because, today is the day I die. My baby girl is due at 3:13 PM. You see, everything is scheduled here, they control when you sleep, when you eat, when you give birth. Everything. I sigh, and rub my stomach gently, sliding down the wall to sit on the concrete. The pain is gone, but the sorrow remains, eating away at my heart, my soul, my being. The siren wails in the background, signalling that it is my time. I close my eyes, willing the world to disappear. And it does.
24B96X • Opuss № I