She paced the room. The sound of metal against the wood of her heel echoed the room and she soon felt the loneliness of reality sink into her own heart. It was almost midnight now, and the room made her feel trapped. She stripped off her heels and wiped off her makeup, running to the balcony. As she flung the doors open she was immediately hit with the wonderful cold air and fresh rain. She closed her eyes and stretched out her arms, breathing in the wonderful cold air. The rain smeared her mascara and lipstick, but she didn’t really care. It was wonderful and she thought that if she could just escape the balcony, she could feel freedom at last. Feel the fresh wet grass under her warm bare feet and the wind in the hair. But as she stretched out her arm to touch the balcony railing, an electrifying spark burned the tips of her fingers. She gasped. Suddenly afraid again she realized that freedom really was an illusion, and that the world was just a faraway dream.
“Rachel.” The voice that came with the slamming door jarred her from her quick state of shock.
“Yes?” A tentative yes, but one nevertheless.
Before Rachel stood the infamous Doctor, known for his groundbreaking research and humane processes. She swallowed a disgusted laugh.
“Go get changed, and get over your tantrums. You are to report to the lab in ten minutes, we have much data to collect from you.” He left the room as the tears erupted.
A few hours earlier Rachel had dressed in her best. She wore the highest heels, the blackest dress, and the widest smile. She had carefully selected a wine glass from the banquet table. She had partaken in a lovely dance with a fine gentleman as the soft music played. Yellow lights fell upon her as she swayed beneath the chandeliers.
That all happened before the wine that she had consumed turned sour, and all the lights shut out. Even the man before her dissolved as quickly as he had come, and soon, she was alone and shrouded in complete darkness. It became clear to her that she had been living an illusion the entire time, and that she was now caught in a trap.
“Well, well, well.” Clapping from the other side of the room. “You must be Miss Rachel Ella.” She twirled around choppily, searching the darkness, stumbling slightly. She couldn’t see anyone, though, only a loud and echoing voice that hurt her ears and rattled her earrings. “You see, Miss Ella, you have a very rare and special blood type that I have been looking for. I have been searching for you for eleven years. And what do you know? I have you now.” His voice was smooth, and strangely, almost fake. Rachel recognized it though, and as hours of TV knowledge flashed through her mind, she realized that the voice belonged to the Doctor. He held the highest honor for the most discoveries published from the research center. He was proud to have 100% of his test subjects voluntarily engage in his radical experiments.
“I’m your new subject, aren’t I,” she had asked in realization. The silence confirmed her suspicions, just as steel handcuffs engulfed her wrists and she was yanked to her feet.
“You will do exactly as told.” The Doctor said. “I will take your blood, you will sign my papers with your silly little name, and then you will drink what I give you. And then if you cooperate I will let you go back to your life. No questions asked. Do you understand?” She couldn’t speak, her throat suddenly to tight and dry, so she gave the smallest of nods. Apparently, that was enough though, because just as soon as she had tilted her chin had she been dragged off in the darkness by her cuff-bound wrists.
Ten minutes after the doctor had stormed into Rachel’s room, her makeup had been wiped off, her heels thrown out, and dress replaced with a cheap thin lab dress. A guard had escorted her from her luxurious prison cell to a room of cold steel walls and wired equipment. Just in the glass on the wall of the opposite room was the Doctor, in all his glory. Grinning widely.
“Welcome, welcome, Miss Ella. I hope you enjoy your stay.” She glared daggers at him and growled as well as she could. This only caused him to speed up his carefully planned out process. “Alright then. Soldier 348 over there- the one gripping your shoulder- will hand you that form- yes, that one- and you will sign it. Got it?” Rachel became still. She didn’t move. She didn’t talk. And she stumbled to the floor, every muscle in her body relaxing with complete ease. This was a trick that was supposed to throw off the Doctor. Perhaps, she had thought, that if she could fake her passing out- or her death- she wouldn’t have to sign the papers. Which would cause his inability to retrieve her blood, thus her safety. She could not be further from the truth. Doctor sighed, and had the papers sent in himself. Then he leaned in extra close to the microphone.
“All right then, Rachel. If you won’t sign it, I will. He leaned back, glanced to the right a few times, and then forged her signature onto the papers with perfect clarity. “Does this look about right?” He held it to the glass. Rachel stayed fixated at her odd position on the ground. The Doctor only chuckled wickedly before putting the papers back down. “Okay, Soldier. Extract her blood please.”
And then the needle entered her arm and she was hit with nothing but complete blackness.
Three months later.
Rachel Ella stepped out into the busy sidewalks of her university, engulfed in the sun’s rays. She couldn’t quite recall what had happened many weeks before- there was this odd gap in her memory. The closest that she could get before her mind blanked out was when she had attended her year-round check up. She recalled sitting in her doctor’s office and requesting that she know her blood type- out of curiosity, of course. This procedure was a blur, but what Rachel had ultimately remembered was her being invited to a dinner party. A dinner party that may or may not have changed her life.