11 September 2012
I always knew there was something wrong with me. I studied myself, in comparison to the endless flow of whitecoats, moving around me. Every moment, of every day, I saw differences in myself and the other humans. Except, I wasn't a 'human'. I was an 'experiment' - I'd heard the word passed around often enough. 'Experiment'. Where they moved awkwardly, as if unsure of where to place their gangly limbs, I was lithe and graceful - muscles moved under my skin, constantly. They spoke in harsh, guttural noises - yelling, shouting, arguing. I spoke with velvety, smoothness. I was simply... Different.
My door opened, as on schedule, and I stepped from my room. 'Today, One, you'll be taking to the floor. We have a new opponent for you to try out.' I felt a small smile pass across my lips, slightly. A shot of adrenaline shocked my system at the word 'opponent'. They were always fun. The whitecoats would give me a target, place is on the fighting mats. They'd time how long it took me to finish the opponent. Obviously, it depended on my mood. Some of the time, I wanted to draw it out - play. I always won. Always.
'He doesn't see anything wrong with it. It's his existence. He knows nothing other, which makes him the perfect, ruthless-' I stepped into the room and Director cut off his speech to gesture me towards the combat mat in the centre of the white, scientific-looking room.
In front of me, a girl stood. Her auburn hair hung limply, and spikes tipped her flesh from wrist to shoulder, from shin to thigh. What was she? Lizard-girl? I could smell her potent blood searing beneath those reptilian blades. It smelt of fear. It smelt good. I felt my canines lengthening. I felt my heart thumping, increasing pace. I felt my brain take a mind of its own: sending nerves sprinting to every muscle in my body. I barely heard the whitecoat say, 'when you're ready, One.' Because my teeth were already at her throat.
It was over in a matter if milliseconds.
I was One. Number One.
One. • Opuss № I