Holo! Well, I don't really know what to say...Supercali-I can't spell. If you're reading this, thanks! If you're not, kudos on your amazing telepathy abilities.
Disclaimer: I don't own.
Freedom's just a word today
Freedom's just a word
When someone takes your word away
It's seldom ever heard
~Stone Sour, 'Sillyworld'
Compound 49 was in the middle of the desert. Yuan barely had time to marvel at the vast sands and harsh winds before the gate was closed, trapping him inside. The guard removed his chains and led him through the compound.
There were only two buildings: a huge, white, hospital-like building in the back, and a much smaller, wooden building off to the side. In the middle, a huge tarp protected at least a hundred half-elves who were huddled around in the sand, eyeing him and the guard with distrust. A few feet away, more people were hauling buckets of water out of a well. Children were playing games, chasing each other and kicking up hot sand. The place looked like a ghetto, except for the white building.
It towered over the compound, like a grotesque palace. It looked too clean, too pristine, next to the dirty prison below. The guard was practically dragging Yuan towards it; he felt a strange repulsion to the place. But he didn't have a choice in the matter, as the guard yanked him through the door.
The walls inside were just as pure white as the outside. It was brightly lit, cool, and smelled of chemicals. Yuan was led to a counter where a pretty young woman was filing and filling out forms. The guard tapped on the glass pane separating them. The woman looked up, startled, and pressed a button on her desk.
"How can I help you?" she asked professionally.
"I'm dropping the new one off," he said gruffly.
The woman looked at him wearily. "More paperwork," she said finally. "Send him through the door on the right."
Yuan was shoved roughly towards the door. His former courage gone, he swallowed and took a deep breath. Then he swung open the doors and stepped inside.
It was eerily silent in the hallway. Low murmurs came from doors on either side of him. Yuan shivered and touched the smooth stone wall. He felt…detached from reality, like he was floating above his body.
"Inside," the woman said, prodding him in the back towards another door. He shakily stepped inside. There was a metal table, which the woman pointed to. "Strip off your clothes and sit."
Yuan did as he was told, still dazed. "Why a-?"
"You aren't allowed to speak," she said bluntly. "You will be examined by the doctor, then I will give you an ID number and your uniform." She left the room, leaving him to look at his surroundings.
The walls were, as expected, white stone. He was sitting on a cold, metal table next to a tray. The tray held various instruments, several of them sharp and dangerous-looking. He shuddered and slid away from the tray just as the door opened.
A short, slight old man shuffled up to Yuan and picked up one of the instruments. "Lay back," he said, aggressively pushing him down.
"Why am-?"
"The receptionist should've told you that you aren't permitted to talk." The doctor pressed a metal disc to Yuan's chest, making him shiver. "You would do well to learn the rules here."
The doctor wrapped a cuff around Yuan's arm and squeezed it so tight that his arm went numb. He jotted down a few notes on a clipboard and removed the cuff. Yuan winced when the doctor moved his arm; his elbow felt like it'd been cracked. A few more harmless instruments were used on him, a few more words scribbled down on the paper. Finally, the doctor stood up and tucked his clipboard under his arm. Without a second glance at Yuan, he exited the room.
Barely a minute later, the receptionist from earlier came back in. "Get dressed in these. From here on out, you have no name. Your number is 238. You will be known as 238." She watched as Yuan slipped on a white uniform. "As of now, you have lost your rights. You are not allowed to speak to any human who enters the compound. You will face punishment if you disrespect any human, guard, or authority figures. Meals are at noon and 6 PM. Because of the famine in this desert, you will eat only every other day. Is that understood?"
"I thought I wasn't allowed to talk," he mumbled. The woman frowned.
"Had you said that to anyone else, you would be beaten for your smart mouth. Lucky for you." She cleared her throat and continued. "You will be interrogated when Commander Aurion visits. He will decide which procedure will be performed, and when." She turned and went to open the door, but hesitated. "And one more thing. Look out for the candle at night."
"What?" Yuan asked. "What candle?"
She took a deep breath. "It's a rhyme. 'Here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head.' When a guard comes in at night with a candle, it means that one of the prisoners is going to be taken away." She left, holding the door open for Yuan. "Come on. I can't stay in here too long, or they'll get suspicious."
"That rhyme," Yuan said finally. "That's 'Oranges and Lemons.' I read it in a book."
The receptionist nodded but didn't smile. "Good for you. Now, get outside."
As Yuan was leaving, he saw a guard leading a scared young man inside. He heard the guard mutter something to the receptionist, followed by her remark, "More paperwork. Send him through the door on the right."
Yuan was greeted by a blast of hot, dry air. As he was in a desert, he expected this, but it was a shock after the chilled air of the hospital. He squinted and headed for the tarp, where a knot of half-elves in dirty white uniforms were watching him.
"So, you're new here," a middle-aged woman said warmly. Yuan nodded. "I'm Rachel. I'd say it's lovely to meet you, but under the circumstances…" She shrugged and pointed to the well with her left hand. Glancing down, Yuan realized she was missing her right.
"You're probably thirsty. The well's that way and the bunk house is over there. Keep your head down and you'll be fine, okay?" Rachel smiled and sat down with a group of women.
Yuan headed for the well, suddenly aware of his thirst and the heat. Looking around, he saw that Rachel wasn't the only one with missing parts: there were a lot of one-handed people around, about half of them children; a few dozen had lost their arms at the elbow; and his eyes occasionally caught a person missing parts of a leg or both hands.
He drew water from the well and splashed some on his face. A little bit of nausea welled up, so he sank into the sand and groaned. He managed to keep from vomiting, but he was dizzy and light-headed. His elbow ached from where Drake had twisted it, and his nose was almost certainly broken. Panting, he laid back and closed his eyes.
"Hey, are you okay?" A gruff voice said. Yuan tried to muster up the energy to answer him, but all that came out was a gurgle.
"Yeah, most newbies feel the same way the first time they see us. Come on, let's get you healed." Yuan moaned as he was lifted up and carried into the shade. "Martel! We need you!"
A blurry face hovered above him, speaking in a soft voice. "Hang on, I'll heal him." There was a flash of green light and all pain and sickness left Yuan's body. He sighed in relief.
"Sleep," her soothing voice said. "You need to rest. Get me some water to cool him off." He felt a cool cloth on his forehead and moaned. He fell asleep to the soft murmur of voices around him.