A/N Heeey:) So, yeah, this is probably the darkest story I've ever written. I wrote it a couple of years ago and I decided to post it because I can. Enjoy.
My eyes fluttered open ever so slowly. I turned my head slightly to my left, then to my right and I realized that I was lying on a cold, concrete floor. I stood up and found out that I had lost my sense of hearing, and I peered down the long corridor that I was lying in. Nothing. Darkness. The only sight I could see was a small light at the very far end of the corridor. I cautiously started walking towards it, my feet slightly numb, and my sense of touch slowly returned. I could barely make out the simple shape of doors on both sides of the hallway when I heard a faint sound. A buzzing, followed by a scream. To any normal person, this noise would not have been heard, but I heard it. My hearing came back as the screaming grew louder. I stopped walking. Not because of the screams. No, I had stopped for many reasons, two being major. First was the buzzing; it was unlike a bee nor a saw, it was more as a dull, circular blade being continuously ground into metal, or worse…bone. The second reason being the simple fact that I knew this place, and it was not a good place at all.
Standing there at the beginning of what may be hundreds of doors I heard the pain, agony, and suffering that came from within the door with the buzzing. I started to walk again, I wanted to get away from the tortured screams that reminded me of someone, someone close to me, whom I couldn't recall. That scared me. I thought back to my life, my past, those I loved, those I didn't, only, I couldn't remember anything. My mind had drawn a blank on my memory, except for one; a haunting memory where I only saw a blinding white light above me as I heard voices talk about my mental state. There was something else…something important. Why couldn't I hear the conversation taking place right above me? And why did two doctors look down at me with a curious expression that could only mean that they operated on me? Just then, a high pitched scream echoed out and down the corridor, and I snapped back to reality, only to be welcomed by several screams seeming to each come from its own, designated door. The screams filled my head and I was overtaken by a plethora of faces.
-Jimmy H., Colorado: thrown onto the streets at the age of 12 by neglective foster parents, lived homeless for 8 months until found by a cop for stealing food
-Sarah P., Florida: ran into a crowed shop at 6 years old, her parents never bothered looking for her, a street-fighter found her and took her in and taught her how to fight on the streets, was gambled on for her multiple street fights
-Evan M., Michigan: abducted at 8 years old and never found by society, we found him in a ditch on the side of a road, beat up and starving
-Teresa A., Maine: discarded by her mother at 10 years old, neglected ever since
Then I got to the most disturbing of all.
-Marie Avett, Unknown: her parents died when she was only 8, foster mother was alcoholic and very abusive, foster father was a child molester, found huddled in a corner sitting in a pool of her own blood, tears pouring down her cheeks and mixing with her blood, she was only 13.
All the names, faces, stories, and screams swirled together in my head until I couldn't take it anymore; I jolted up and ran. I ran, and ran, and ran until my feet were practically bleeding, for I was not wearing any shoes. I ran; away from the people, away from the tortured screams that I knew way too well for a 17 year old. The screams that shout out for help, no matter who or what you were. The screams that indicated that the worst possible thing might've happened, yet from there it would only get worse until you finally passed out from the pain. The screams of innocent children that were laced with suffering that no child should endure. The screams that belonged to me.
I skidded to a halt when I came to the light. It was emanating from a door that seemed bigger and more important than the others. I nimbly opened the door and peered inside. There was nothing. It was a huge room with white walls and two white chairs facing each other with a white light that seemed to hover between them. In a chair was a man, he looked to be in his mid 30s with a simple black suit on with a black tie over his crisp, white shirt. His brown hair was cut short and he was clean shaven. But what I saw was his eyes. They were jet black, not showing any sign of a pupil, and had maybe the slightest hint of a fog in them, almost as if he were blind, and yet they were completely emotionless.
"Hello my dear, I've been waiting," the man said. In reply I didn't make a sound nor move, I just simply asked, "Who am I?"
"You haven't figured it out yet? Your name is Marie Avett." It hit me like a ton of bricks, only harder. I was Marie Avett. I was the girl who watched her parents die, who was abused and molested. I remembered. Oh yes, I remembered. All the pain and suffering and agony. All the blood and power. Oh the power! Though, it was not me who had the power, it was everyone around me who had the power…over me.
"Yes, you are Marie Avett, also the best of the best; the most successful experiment so far," At my aghast expression he continued. "You were the smartest this organization has seen in a long time and yet your senses were a little weak, so we helped you out a bit; consider it a favor." So that's why I can hear so well and see so far.
"The other children, what happened to them?" I questioned the strange man.
"They were nothing but mere helpless things." I was a little taken aback on his casual use of things, they were children, not things!
"So we made them better, and you have been the best, my dear," the man finished. I saw a fleeting change in his eyes when he called me dear, almost remorse, or regret, or sadness. It was a change that indicated that he cared for me and knew me better than I obviously knew myself. It was a change I remembered from what seemed almost like a past love…but no, this heartless, cruel man with the unnerving emotionless eyes could never love. Especially someone who he allowed people to experiment on. And I could never love him, for we weren't "helpless things". We were the lost and forsaken children who would bring a change in this twisted world we were living in.
A/N ...again:) Ta-da! So? What did you think? I'm debating if I want to make it a story or just leave it as is. I'd probably make it less dark-themed unless someone PMs me saying otherwise. But, yeah, let me know if you want it a story or not please! It'd be greatly appreciated by your local me:)