21 April 2012
A bright light filtered through Quinn's sleep, rousing her from its dark, restless depths.
'She's awake, sir.'
It was the voice Quinn dreading hearing every time she returned to herself. It was the voice of Doctor Stephens, one of the more active whitecoats in Quinn's life.
Quinn moaned as she was jostled on the lab table she undoubtedly lay on. She hurt. Everywhere. Bones, muscles, joints, even the joints' joints protested with every slight shift of skin.
Quinn's wings felt heavy and not nearly as numb as she wished. Her right secondary feathers felt matted - Quinn was sure it was blood.
'How do you feel, Quinn?' Stevens' falsely therapist-like question broke the fog of Quinn's thoughts and she mentally pulled herself together.
'Hmm. Let me think. I feel almost as if a bunch of crazy-ass science nuts made me run for hours - until I passed out, in fact - and then proceeded to taser me... Does that sound crazy to you?'
Stevens lost all pretence of caring and turned back to the operation leader, whose dark presence lurked at the rear of the room. 'Subject seems to have revived sufficiently, testing can continue as planned, sir.'
'Testing can continue? CONTINUE?' Quinn moved on the table, angered. The shackles at her wrists and feet enabled only limited movement, but Quinn rattled, uncaring of the lack of effect.
'Yes, Quinn. We have something new planned for today. We want to experiment with your diet.' Stevens walked away, pushing grey rimmed spectacles up his long nose whilst consulting a sheath of papers on one hand.
Quinn bit back tears.
It was all because she was a girl with wings.
The Winged Girl II • Opuss № I