Author's Note: Hey there. It seems this update took longer than expected. So I wrote out this chapter, read it, and then deleted it and started from scratch because I thought it was horrible. Feel free to send a review my way if you see anything weird with the chapter. Reviews would be wonderful, because then everyone gets to read more wonderful fanfiction, and I feel like staying up all night writing for the reviewers. Spread some love.
~x~
Chapter 9- Escape
It was always easy to fall asleep. Almost too easy, as it meant that my starved body was trying to conserve energy after being starved for a long period of time. I awoke to my stomach grumbling loudly, protesting the lack of food. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to quiet the noises, trying to push aside the fact that I was as weak as a newborn lamb. What was the scientist playing at? What did she hope to accomplish with this new kind of torture? I lifted my head blearily as a door was opened somewhere nearby. My prison had changed again while I was unconscious, and now I was in something that resembled a giant fish tank; a giant glass box, with a sort of metal lid. It wasn't very large, around ten feet by ten feet, and there was a ladder on one side, leading up to a latch in the metal roof. As I watched, a man in a white lab coat whom I had never seen before came close to the glass, and I drooled when I saw what was in his arms. In one hand he had a dish of water, clean, cool water, and the other was a bowl full of meat. Food.
-FOODFoodyesyes!Hungryhungrytoothintooweak, eatpreykillprey!-
My stomach gave a loud gurgle as my inner Hunter intruded on my conscious, and the scientist man froze. I crawled towards the glass wall, saliva dripping from my mouth, desperate. I could see my reflection in the glass. I looked too thin, too pale, and my eyes were wide and desperate, like a cornered animal. I tapped on the glass with my claws, watching as the man drew closer with the meal. The scent wafted in, and I started to scrabble against the glass, a hungry whine echoing around the glass cage. As much as I tried, my weakened claws did not even made a scratch on the smooth surface. As the man went to the side with the ladder, I followed, keening softly as my body screamed for the sustenance. My yellow eyes glowed in the half-light, and I ran my tongue over my parched lips. As the hatch above me opened, I looked above me to see the scientist holding some kind of long metal stick, and at the end the cattle prod had been attached using duct tape. He lowered it down, jabbing it at me until I backed up. I growled at the sight of the electrical rod. I hated that thing. But nevertheless, I obeyed, backing into the farthest corner as the scientist slowly lowered the bowl of food and the bowl of water using a device that had been mounted to the lid of the cage.
Once they were on the floor the man retracted the cattle prod spear, and then slammed the lid shut. I heard footsteps as the man left, but I didn't care. I scuttled over to the food as fast as possible and started to eat ravenously. It was unidentifiable, raw, and probably dirty but I didn't care. I hadn't eaten in about a week. Once the meat was gone I licked the inside of the bowl, whining. It had only been enough to quiet my stomach's grumbling, and I was hungry for more. Then I turned my attention on the water, and I lapped it up eagerly.
Once the meal was over I stumbled away from the bowls, and for the first time examined my image closely using the glass. I had a pinched, starved look, and without my hoodie I could easily count all of my ribs. My black hair had grown a bit longer, all ruffled and matted and tangled. I had dark shadows under my sickly yellow eyes, and my face was covered with the remains of my meal. I tried to be as realistic as possible, taking in my torso and my arms. The sickly gray skin hadn't changed, but the strange bulges and bumps in my skin, the hideous appearance, I looked at it. This is me. This is who I am now. My reflection stared back at me, proof of my gruesome reality. I crawled closer to the glass, and with one hand tried to touch the reflection. My reflection did the same, and for a minute our hands touched, separated by a curtain of glass. And then I drew back, ashamed. How I wished this had never happened, that I should've just accepted a bullet in head. How I wished that I had succumbed to my human cowardice and had embraced death instead. But no, it was too late to try and turn back. I crawled into the back corner of the glass cage, the farthest away from the door. Once there I put my face in my hands and wept.
I don't know how much time had passed, but soon the sobs turned to whimpers, and the tears eventually stopped. I sniffed loudly and wiped my face, clearing away the snot and tears. I cleaned my hand on my pants, which already looked worse for wear from accumulated filth. Now what? I was unsure of what to do. I did not want to brood on the dark thoughts in the back of my mind, lurking on the edges, nor of the inner Hunter, who provided a steady stream of barely coherent thoughts and garbled instincts. No, I needed something to do, something to keep my mind occupied. Or else I'm going to go insane. Of course, that's assuming I already haven't gone insane. No, no, I couldn't think like that. Everything would be alright if I just kept my sanity. I knew that I sounded desperate in my head, but there was no other choice.
I started to pace back and forth on the floor, anxious, unable to do anything. It felt like I was in a giant fish tank, unable to do anything but watch and pace. Is this how fish feel? I kept up the pace, crawling around the cage. It was seven paces to cross the length of the cage, and seven paces to cross the width. For diagonal, eleven paces. I felt cooped up, trapped, and I turned my eyes to the room outside of the cage, desperate for a distraction. The room was dark, but my eyes were suited to such lighting. I could see piles of cardboard boxes, haphazardly stacked up. It looked like a storage room. I turned my eyes to the lid of the glass cage, and something caught my eye. The place where the scientist had opened to deliver food was ajar, if only slightly. It's open! My eyes widened with this piece of information. What would I do? I had never thought about escape, to be honest. The scientist had always made sure I would never escape, and I was always convinced that she had made everything escape-proof. Now I crouched underneath the loose panel, torn between freedom and fear of what would happen. Would it be worth it to escape? Could I escape? The bright lights of the hallway would defeat me, even before the problem of making out of wherever I was! No, no, thinking like this was not the right way. Before my mind was made, I sprang up, easily popping open the lid of the cage and landing on top. For a minute I froze, waiting for the punishment that was sure to occur. When there was none, I easily dropped down from the cage with the lithe and grace of a cat. It no longer surprised me to land so easily from a ten feet drop. The infection had built this body to last. I gave a light, rasping whine at the last thought, my version of a laugh. I padded over to the boxes, curious to see what was inside all of them. After tearing open two of them with my claws, I found articles of clothing, neatly stacked inside, along with things such as toys or photographs. For every new box, there was a new set of clothing. There were shirts, pants, and socks, but no hooded jackets to be seen. I would need one to shield my eyes if I tried to escape. Finally, I pulled out a dark blue one that was my size. The thing was a zip-up hoodie, with pull-strings and a strange design on the back, which I did not recognize. It resembled a circuit board, and there was black duct tape placed on the sleeves, near the wrists and elbows. The duct tape was strange, but I didn't care and gratefully wriggled into the hoodie, since my clawed hands were too awkward to use a zipper. The hoodie fit perfectly, like it was made for me. I drew up the hood and approached the door, unsure if it was locked. The handle was round and smooth; it would be impossible to open it up with my claws. Grimacing, I bit down on the handle, gently clenching it in my teeth as I slowly rotated it. It tasted disgusting, and I felt like puking as I slowly turned the handle. Finally, the door opened, and I collapsed into the brightly lit hallway.
Adrenaline rushing, I sprang to my feet casting about for any sign that there was anyone nearby. Nothing. The entire hallway was silent, and the doors on either end were unguarded. The only noise was from a ventilation shaft overhead, the cold air being blasted out through the grate. Wait… a grate? Perhaps it was because of all the spy movies that I had watched when I was little that I got the idea. I tilted my head up towards the grate, studying it as best I could. It looked loose. Maybe I could knock it off and use the ventilation to get out! It would be easier than wandering around getting lost, that was for certain. I crouched down for a moment, and then leapt into the air, sinking my claws into the grate. For a moment, I held on firmly, suspended about a foot and a half in the air, and then with a crash the grate came loose and I fell to the floor with a tremendous crash. For a moment I froze, and then readied myself to jump as one of the doors opened at the end of the hallway. It was the scientist, and there was someone behind her, half-hidden by shadows. We stared at each other for a moment, and then the figure behind the scientist started forward with a strangled cry containing something like fear, or sorrow. I reacted, unsure of what to do, and so I leapt up into the vent and scrabbled inside. For a second I caught my breath as the cold air slammed into me, glad I had thought to wear the hoodie. And then I started to crawl forward, desperate for freedom.