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Sequence One

My eyes were bulging, huge black pupils against pale white, and that was all. The pain behind them felt like they were burning, and all I wanted to do was make it stop. Long fingernails rain down my face, scratching off a thin layer of skin, leaving only pink, tender flesh behind.

My neck convulsed as I looked around my bleak surroundings. Dark curtains hang from the musty windows, where only dirty light could fight its way through the tiny cracks between the thick velvet. The carpet was a dark maroon color, and the walls a deep black. The door out was invisible, but I couldn’t have used it even if I could find it, a lock hung heavy from the door hinge.

Slowly, I glanced at the far wall. I knew people were watching through the mirror, even though I couldn’t see the mirror or them. I could feel their normal eyes, mocking my every move as I ran around this room. They thought I was crazy, but I wasn’t. I’m perfectly sane. They are the ones who are crazy!

I noticed the little bit of blood under my nails and sucked on them, running my tongue under the sharp ridges. Ah, yes, that metallic thickness reached my throat and I sighed in relief. It’d been awhile, old friend, yes it had.

My matted hair fell over my eyes as I stalked to the same far wall I’d studied earlier. They were there, I could feel it! Taking notes on my behavior. That’d be back with that silly medicine, yes they would, and try to get me to take it. That wouldn’t happen, nope, nope, nope!

My head jerked to the left, and the burning in my eyes came back. Pressure in my temples made me scream, and I started to claw at my poor eyes. I penetrated the smooth exterior, making the pain in the right eye even more intense. Swinging wildly, my right eye increasing in puffiness, I knocked a table over and the glass vase spilled and shattered all over the floor.

Then everything stopped. I stared down at the broken glass, wanting to roll around in it. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? I started to pace towards it, my brick like feet forcing me forward as my brain commanded my nerve endings.

The black wall moved, and a fake light shined in. I covered my eyes, cowering, but I heard someone mutter, “She’s ready.” No! No more medicine! All I wanted was the glass, to penetrate my skin, to draw that nice liquid.

“The last phase will be completed immediately,” someone else said, as I fought against some big guards who were gruffly holding me away from the doctors. A sharp pinch in my neck, and I was out, gone.


Blinking, a bright light attacked my vision and I squirmed. But I couldn’t move. I was bounded down to a leather chair. “Let me go!” I screamed, the first time in years I’d made a coherent sound. It felt odd on my lips, like some foreigner in a country nothing like his own. What made me do such a thing was beyond my knowledge.

A pretty woman with long, dark hair was standing of in the shadows whispering to another man in white. “It didn’t work,” she sighed, tapping her pencil against a clipboard, “but we can use her for testing of the final drug at least.” Drug. The word sounded familiar, and I think it resembled medicine in nature. Not the medicine! No more!

Someone came towards me with a long, silver needle, a little bit of liquid trickling out the tiny spike. They whispered calming words as the sharp penetration in my arm began to burn. More burning, why was I always so hot? My head jerked around, and my eyes bulged again, the burning sensation back. I tried to claw, but I couldn’t move my arms.

“I can’t believe it didn’t work,” the pretty woman was saying, “That dam.n drug drove her completely insane.” What is she talking about? Medicine made me insane? She’s insane! I’m normal. The medicine is evil, she’s insane, and I’m a perfectly normal person.

Someone came on over the microphone, and said, “Starting Sequence One. Subject will be terminated immediately after, results are being monitored.” The two people in the shadows left, leaving me. A little screen rolled away, and I could see inside a glass room.

I recognized a little girl sitting on the table. She didn’t look happy. She looked familiar, like I knew her before I was brought here… Lauren! Her name was Lauren and she was… My heart began beating fast as I realized who that little thing was. My sister was sitting next to shining sharp tools and a dark shadow was coming towards her. Get away! She’s mine! Why was she here? Why am I here?

Slowly, I felt like my mind was clearing. My emotions seemed more even, and I could remember playing with my sister in the gardens before I was taken away. I remember the first shot they gave me. They really did drive me insane… But now what were they doing?

The shadow picked up a little saw, turned a switch, and with ease sliced through my sister’s wrist. I could hear the muffled scream, and I was yelling myself. Blood poured out. That thick, foul liquid covered her pale blue dress. My heart ached; all I wanted to do was be with her.

He picked up the other hand, and with just as much ease makes a clean cut right above her forearm. What is he doing? “Get away from her!” I yell, reminded of my other outburst, when I was so confused. Hot tears stained my cheeks as I saw the color drain from hers. She had a fear in her eye, and accusing, like this was my fault. I knew why she did; it was because it was my fault.

Grabbing her little foot, I turned my head away, not able to watch anymore. That’s when I noticed the machines and wiring. I was hooked up to something big and beeping. I heard a noise near the front of the room, and reluctantly looked forward. The window was covered, and the pretty woman stood there.

“Oh Gale,” she crooned, “glad to see you’re back. Too bad you’re going to die. Trust that no one will ever betray our company again.” What company? Then I remembered, the tests, the poor innocent people used as lab rats for horrible medicines and concoctions. I had fought against them, freeing some people and destroying the most dangerous of the drugs, the ones that could cause death or mental instability.

“Goodbye,” she whispered, as a long blade shot into my heart. I could feel the warmth running down my side, and the last thing I could hear was, “Sequence One has failed. Medication does not cause numbing of emotions, start testing with Sequence Two.” My last thought was simple: my condolences for the poor man involved in Sequence Two.



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