Test Subject #23552
Prologue
Test Subject #23552's POV (Bella)
Let us just take a moment to imagine something. It may be hard to comprehend, but by thinking about it we are acknowledging that it could happen; in some twisted universe, it is possible. Anything is possible.
Imagine white walls, sterile rooms, harsh bright lights, cold metal upon glass worktops, padded cells with locked doors, men in white coats, icy cold conditions, and floor upon floor of cells built to house the test subjects: the sub-humans.
This is a place where cries of agony are your welcoming and the silence of death is your farewell. It is hell on Earth with its very own Devil. There is no God here. There is no religion here. There is nothing but pain and death here.
Experiment after experiment, life after life, and yet no one comes to save us. In their eyes, we are not people, but numbers. We do not have names. We do not have feelings. We do not have lives. We are simply puppets to the puppeteer and at his hands' we shall die.
That has been my life since I was born at Cullen Corporate Laboratories.
On the outside, Cullen Co. Labs was the world's very best pharmaceutical company, producing top-notch vaccines, and drug enhancers to improve the Superior Race. On the inside, it was hell, and run by Satan. Satan had a name, and that name was Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He, and his two sons, ran the company. They worked specifically with the test subjects in the main laboratory, where I was housed. Thankfully, I have never had the pleasure of meeting them.
Dr. Carlisle is known among the test subjects to be a cruel and single-minded man. His only goal in life is to produce a superior race of human beings, which he has done. Outside these walls are people that can run so fast you cannot see them. There are people who can lift vehicles with a single hand. There are people who can do the impossible. They are the Gifted Ones, Carlisle's creations. They are the smartest, the bravest, the strongest, the fastest, the slyest, the sneakiest, and they are the worthiest of all.
Unlike the Gifted Ones, I am not worthy. There was no happy family, no love and no comfort for me. Instead, I was bred for my genes. I was brought up with needles, shock treatment, malnutrition, and experiments. I was brought up for one purpose: to help advance the Superior Race.
They do not know of what goes on, they do not ask, and they do not care. They are above us, which means we, the sub-humans, are dirt on the bottom of their shoes. They can use us like dogs for breeding, torture us to test our limits, kill us with viruses to see the affects, and destroy our hope with their callousness. That is the life of a sub-human, and there is no escape.
Death is thy only escape, and oh how I welcome it with open arms.
Death, come to me now, free me from this imprisonment, let me breathe the fresh air outside these walls, let me walk among other free men, let me taste food again, let me play, let me laugh, let me love, and let me live. I beg of you, Death, I shall forever be at your mercy if you free me from this hell.
But, of course, my death will not be on my terms. My death will be on theirs. It will most likely be in a cold, sterile cage, where I will be injected with the new vaccine or virus (whichever they are testing that day). They will watch as I die, slowly and painfully, jotting down in their notes all that happens. Then once death has taken me, they will cut me open and exam me through and through. I will be a number in a case study. I will forever be a number, for my name is #23552.
I am no one's daughter. I am no one's sister. I am no one's friend.
I am no one.
Standing in the testing room, hands and feet tied to leashes held by guards, my fate hung before me. Opposite, a team of seven doctors watched me carefully. Each and every one of them was judging me, examining me, and scrutinizing me. They were the Judge and Jury, and this was my execution.
"Test subject #23552 has a good set of genes in her. She survived VN5, which is promising, and according to her test results here, she is of good breeding. What shall we do with her?" The man who spoke, the man in control of the whole room, was none other than Satan's Spawn, Dr. Edward Cullen.
His reputation preceded him, and I knew that at his hands, I would suffer unthinkable pain, and my death would not be easy. But, I would die, and it would be glorious.
Death, you are within reaching distance. Free me from these chains, and give me the life I should have had. I am yours, and I surrender to you fully. Set me free.
