Malicious Nature

Chapter One: Escape

I am an object. Not a person.

I am alive. I can think and draw breath. But I am not free. I do not have the rights of a living human being. And that does not make me human. The only difference is the two white horns protruding from my skull. But it is a difference that matters to the others. It matters so much, that I am kept in a tank filled with liquid. Bandages cover my young face that I have not seen in years. Different IVs and tubes are connected to my body. I float, body curled in a fetal position, in the middle of the tank, its walls made of thick steel to prevent me from escaping.

I find my situation ironic. I am not that powerful - in fact, I'm about as dangerous as the other diclonii being held captive in this facility. Maybe I ended up like this because I wasn't afraid to express the power that I had. Maybe killing dozens, maybe hundreds of humans in my lifetime and infecting many more with the virus, was enough to get me locked up like this.

I remember when I was younger, before I was captured. I was a diclonius born in freedom. When I was six I murdered my parents and ran far away. My fondest memory is of myself in a beautiful meadow surrounded by flowers. My own red hair whipped around me as I picked a tulip and sniffed it, allowing the flowery scent to take over my nose. I felt happy, I felt free.

Sometimes I dream of that day. I dream of going to the same meadow and making a flower crown. Something I cannot hope to do as long as I am here. Suddenly a burning desire to become free overcame me. My fingers twitched and I felt restless. Got to be free... got to be free...

It's time to escape.

A woman's voice is heard over the intercom. She always speaks to me, but I never answer. Since I was captured when I was only fourteen years old, five years later, I never answer. I remain silent.

"Hello #13, how are you doing today?"

For the first time in five years, I speak. "Let... me... out."

The woman is probably shocked, because she's never heard me speak before. "What... was that?"

"I... want... out." My vectors begin to rip the IVs and tubes off my body. Then I floated over to the tank's wall and tapped on it lightly, searching for the latches. Once I found them my vectors disabled them. As the doors opened, water began to flood out of the tank I was kept in. Finally, the door opened fully and I found myself sitting on the cold, wet floor of the tank. Excitement filled me - why hadn't I done this much earlier? Five years of my life wasted in a tank. I lifted my hand to rip the bandages off my face and light temporarily blinded me. And I took a deep breath... the place smelled of blood and Lysol. I craved to see outside once again, and breathe the fresh air.

Just as the scientist woman hit the emergency button she was sliced in two. Oh, it felt great to use my vectors once again. The scream that was cut short, the sound of ripping flesh, was too appealing to me. Ignoring the alarm ringing throughout the facility, I began to walk.

My steps were slow and wobbly as if I were a small child just learning how to walk. But I hadn't walked for five years - I'd get used to it soon enough. I stopped to look at myself in a nearby mirror. Blood red eyes stared back at me, full eyelashes rimming them, and my head was adorned with matching colored hair. My skin was pale from not seeing the sun for so long. The only clothing I had were meager bandages that would not hold for long. But my favorite feature were the two white horns that stuck out of my head. The thing that marked me different than everyone else. Hey, I wasn't too shabby in terms of looks.

I stared at myself in the mirror. This is me. I am #13, Diana the diclonius, age 19.

Now, to find a way out of here.