0. The Rarity

What do you do when you wake up in a strange place? What is your first reaction? Mine was not fun when it happened. At first, I was confused. What's with the concrete ceiling? I wondered to myself, my thoughts still groggy from a heavy sleep. I blinked slowly as I came to. My brain felt slow, like processing information needed to go through more filters than usual. I decided to look around at my surroundings, turning my head with a slow blink.

My heart began to speed up. I couldn't tell exactly what I was laying on, but besides the stiff bed was a small, metal table with doctor instruments sitting upon it. I felt relieved when I noticed they were plain and clean. That scalpula had not touched me, but that thought was less reassuring. It had not touched me. Not yet, anyway.

I could feel my heart beating fast, and that cold and yet warm wash of adrenaline spread from my flushed face to my trembling fingers and down my stiff legs. I pulled myself to sit quickly.

"Augh!"

Too quickly. I didn't realize that I was restrained. My neck, my chest, my wrists, hips, and ankles were tied down by leather straps.

Is this a nightmare?

I wanted it to be a nightmare. I shut my eyes as tight as possible and started counting down from ten.

"Ten." My voice was hoarse, and I became aware of how dry my throat was.

"Nine." I whispered, putting less stress on my pained throat.

"Eight." Quieter and quieter it seemed to grow, even in the silent room. The quiet made me want to scream, just to lift the weight of the silence off of my chest.

"Seven." What was that? I began to tremble. I was imagining sounds, muffled and hard to describe. Was it a footstep?

"Six." Now my voice cracked a bit, as the pitch began to heighten at the sounds that I thought I was hearing.

"Five." There were definitely footsteps.

"F-four." I was trembling. I never made it this far in my count without waking up or something changing, and I still laid there.

"Three..." The word left like a quiet wind from my lips. Were those voices I heard?

"Two." I felt like I was counting down for something besides waking up at this point. A door creaked above my head, somewhere that I could not see because of the strap around my neck.

One. I thought to myself as I heard the bodies entering the room. tapping of shoes on a hard floor. Brushing of fabric as they passed one another. Then I took in the words they spoke.

"-And this one was taken from a reliable source. The trader has been very good at ensuring no tracks remaining for law enforcement to follow." I high pitch, but still noticeably male voice said.

"She seems to be conscious." A deep voice said.

"'It', Mister Malcolm, please." The high pitched voice said."I do not yet no the sex this one will take upon the end of my operation." A face appeared above me. He had a long nose, and horn rimmed glasses like one of my teachers at school. His black hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and his steel grey eyes glared down at me. He had some kind of name tag on the chest of his white coat, but I couldn't read it upside-down. "Huh, seems so. That's rare, especially with her size... I think I know what this one will be..." He mumbled to himself as he left my view.

"Anyway, come along, I must show you all my first success..."