Deep Purple
Smacking skulls and pulverized flesh, blood oozes into the crevasses of his paws. A star looms overhead shining back and forth, its light blinding and powerful invading his sight; he tries to close his eye, but his eyes betray him. Metal steaks prod and grope at his skin, he opens his mouth to yell, but a miasma of smog descends to violate his lungs preventing the escape of any noise. The blood rises and engulfs his neck, holding it down, his shoulder become numb against the hot stream of corruption. As the sea of blood encroaches on his face and the star begins to fade, his body stops moving.
His body?
Sharp redness seeps into sight and the bright orbs dulls to the color of lavender.
His body?
Sinking, sinking, he is sinking, swallowed by the scarlet sea; he shuts his eyes to stop it.
Darkness engulfs him, his chest feels tight, he tells his body to move, but it won't listen. This isn't his body. He slowly opens the eyes and light washes over him, a magnificent swirl of crimson, and a deep purple.
The eyes open languidly; they are great and green with large oval pupils. The lean, muscular body laid flat on its side unmoving and tired. The pelt, a thin tan and black tabby coat, was still and clam. The eyes shift slightly upward notching a larger entity approaching, it stood on two legs and had a white pelt flowing backwards. It was man; he leaned over the table to the cat and placed its hand on the body.
"Professor looks at this one! It's breathing, professor, it's alive!" The Scientist.
Suddenly a second man came; his stature was much smaller that the other, but he gave off an air of dominance and maturity. Despite its appearance, his smiled betraying its imposing structure. "The serum actually worked? Which subject is this?" The Professor's voice was gruff and taciturn, but the hint of excitment reveals itself.
The Scientist nodded and took out a clip, he ran his finger down the page until he found a match. "This one is from bin #13, a male riser Manx, one of the lab-born, expired by induced cardiac arrest 96 hours ago." The Scientist quickly put away the clipboard and looked patiently the Professor. " Revived within only 4 days, impressive." he reached down to pick up the cat, he examined the coat and ran his hand across the body, it was warm and pulsating with life, "You're going to save a lot of lives… Tell me what did we name this one?"
The Scientist looked back at the clip and looked back to the Professor with a grin as if he had found something funny. "Lazarus."
Lazarus was put inside kennel; the cage was dark and encased him within, the icy plastic held sturdy and was densely compacted on all but one side, which was domain to a thick-steel gate. He brought the body up and slowly circled around himself towards the bowl and begins to eat it was filled with drab brown pellets, each uniform in size. The taste wasn't all that good, but he never knew what good taste was in the first place.
"Psst-hey Lazarus, is that you in there?" He heard a familiar voice to the right of the kennel, Lazarus slowly shift the head facing the voice.
"No."
The voice seemed confused, "Huh, oh sorry I mistook you for someone else."
Lazarus shook the head in disbelief, "Of course it's me, who else would it be?" Lazarus finished his bite before moving his bowl away.
"H-hey what's with you? You were gone for the longest time, and this is how ya say hello?" The voice snapped, "I was worried bout ya."
Lazarus took a deep breath; the cat behind the voice was Frankie, a cell neighbor and close friend, he and Frankie had been in the kennels since birth, despite the lack of contact with one another they grew to like each other. "I'm sorry… I-I just don't want to talk right now, something just feels…off" Lazarus faced the bowl of cat food;
"Off?" Frankie asked hotly, "What do you mean off ya smartass?"
"I dunno, just off." Lazarus relied weakly
Frankie was always in the faces of other, when you spend most of your life in a cage, information becomes most valuable in sating the sin of curiosity. However Lazarus was Frankie's friend and he knew when to back off when he should "Whatever."
Lazarus shuffled around the cage before settling in the pile of newspaper. Across the room away from his cage is a window, his only passage to the outside world. From there he could see a sky and clouds in the day, and moon at the night. Sometimes Lazarus wonders what is out there, He stares silently am I the body not moving an inch. However a voice call to him breaking his trance, "So how did the Twolegs treat you?" The voice came from the left kennel this time; it was feminine and confident, representative of the feline that spoke it.
Lazarus propped the head up and turned it left. "Twolegs? Why do you always call them that? Don't birds walk on two legs also?"
"Ho? I guess you have a point," The voice said softly, "Sorry it's just a word I grew up with. But back to the point, did they do anything to you?" The voice belong Lazarus' left neighbor a she-cat. Unlike him and Frankie, she was not born in the lab, instead she from outside the lab. Lazarus initially had a hard time believing her, but he grew to love her stories of the outside world. She told tales that caught his intrigue; he tales included exploits of her clan, a group of cats who worked together as a cohesive community, tales of hunting small animals whose flesh made the tastiest meal, and tales of scandalous rendezvous with unknown cats.
"Well aside from the normal injections, I don't think so." He says nonchalantly.
"Are you sure? Lazarus I think your memory has gotten a little fuzzy." The she-cat said sternly.
"Is that so? "Lazarus says confused.
"That is so. Look around you, out of all the cats taken, you were the only one came back. You said it yourself something was off."
Lazarus stopped to think about what she said, she's right… why am the only one back, Lazarus began to try to recall the events that occurred, but as he delved into his memories, all he could hear a sharp ringing in the back of the head. Nothing came up, no memory of what had occurred, Lazarus became confused. Surely he had not forgotten what had happened. As he tries again to remember the events, the ringing grew louder and louder and soon the noise became a head splitting scream, "Argh!" Lazarus yowls much to his neighbors' surprise.
"Oy, Lazarus, ya okay man!" He heard Frankie to the right of him, concerned for his wellbeing.
"I-I don't know. I can't seemed to remember." He panted, why can't I remember?
"Oh for StarClan's sake, how do you not remember what happened to your own body?" The voice to the left yelled flabbergasted.
"My? My body?" Lazarus said confused, he felt an ominous growth in the pit of his stomach as he said that, whose body?
Frankie's voice could be heard, "Give the tom a break! All that matters is he's in one piece!"
"No, it's not. Can't you see there is something wrong? Out of all that cats the Twolegs took, Lazarus only came back and it's obvious they done something to him!" She said with worry,
There was a moment of silence. "So? What are ya getting at here?" the right voice questioned.
"We need to escape." The left said bluntly
Laugher could be heard from the right kennel. "E-escape?! Lazarus don't ya listen to this ham! Ya spent your entire life in this place, and you get food, water, shelter, why would ya need to get out of there?
The voice in the let grew into a rage, "Are you saying you're content with this life? Caged and locked up? Haven't you ever thought about what is out there? Out of that window? Besides look I'm not here to argue about that, I'm talking about what happened to Lazarus and the other cats, can't you see the obvious danger here? Those Twolegs are going to destroy my body, your body and his body!"
His body?
Lazarus stared languidly at the window across the room, it reveal a half crescent moon. The moonlight seeped into his kennel reflecting off his green eyes. His eyes? It was never his body; it was theirs, it was simply the body, his paws were simply the paws, his eyes simply the eyes. Only his mind belonged to him, yet that was at threat of possession, of violation.
Frankie hesitated. "Hey ya ain't seriously thinking about this r-right?"
"Well from the looks of it Lazarus is seriously thinking about. Look Lazarus, this kittypet over doesn't know the threat these Twolegs pose to us. Besides remember the stories I've told you. Think about it; you can go wherever you want, eat whatever you eat, your body is yours and only yours."
"My body?"
"You're tired of all the sticks they put in you, all the strange liquid they pour in you, you feel it right, you've lost all of your body to them, what more can you give?" The she-cat purred across the kennel into the ear.
Lazarus slowly laid the body down, the head lying on top of the newspapers bedding beneath. The moon glimmered faintly at his thoughts.
Frankie was swift to retort, "Wow that sounds nice and dandy the way ya put it, but tell me, how we get out then?" Frankie was right, without a plan, the thought of escape was more that wishful thinking, a dream trapped by illusion of the moon.
The she-cat was taken aback."I-I haven't thought about that part yet."
Lazarus closed the eyes; the ears lowered and blocked all sound of the heated debate. His mind was tired, the body was tired, what is he to do?
"Well if ya haven't got the plan, then we shouldn't we discussing it, ya know?"
"I don't have a plan, but it's important-"
No more, thought Lazarus. Darkness engulfs the cat, his mind begins to halt. This was his mind. His mind is not his body.
My mind?
He thinks, these are his thoughts.
His body?
Shouldn't this be his body?
Lazarus falls into a deep sleep.
He dreamt of a moon.