Year 1976
001… She stared at the numbers inked into her skin. One was what the white coats called her. One was the name they'd given her. She had a name, a real name, before they took her. She forgot what it was, like most things on the outside world. She hated that she forgot. She was taken only three years ago, and still her memory left her. She tried to recall her prior memories in moments she was alone. Anything to remind her that she was taken out of her world and that she didn't belong in this drab place.
That was part of why relished her cell time. It was small, empty, and quiet. A single bed was her only furniture. Its stark white walls made the entire room bland, but half of her short life had been spent in it. The cell gave her a level comfort.
The bad things happened when she left the cell. Sometimes she pretended to hate it, so the white coats would put her back in the cell to punish her. That only worked for so long before they caught on. Now they punished her by taking her out the cell.
The lock to her cell opened and the door swung wide. Three white coats, all armed with guns, stood standing on the other side. One wondered if she had summoned them with her thoughts.
"Number 001," the white coat who spoke flash a placating smile at her, "he wants to see you." The white coated man didn't have say who "he" was. She walked out her cell, saying nothing as the group led her down the long white corridors. Everything in this place was white and blinding. She was often grateful for her skin tone, mocha brown. One's skin tone contrasted with everything around her. She took it as a sign that she didn't belong. She didn't want to belong.
When they finally stopped, Papa was sitting down at a metal table. She hated that he made her call him that. One knew she had no father. Her early memories were filled only with her mother, whose face she couldn't quite remember.
"Join us, please," Papa said, his facial pleasant. He gestured to a girl One had not noticed, sitting across from Papa. She wore the same buzz cut as One. One felt her stomach sink when her eyes landed on the girl. She felt like retching. Instead she settled on shaking her head violently.
"No. No. No. No." she whispered. She knew what this meant. They were going to make her do it again. She can't. She couldn't!
"Sit down now!" the man commanded. His easygoing tone was gone. Annoyance painted his face. When One refused to come any closer, he directed one of the men with guns to make her. Pain spiked in her arm when the man grabbed her. He dragged her across the room and put her, not so gently, in the seat next to the girl. His grip was still attached to her arm.
"Thank you, I can handle it from here," Papa said. The gun man released his iron grip and backed away a few feet. Feeling returned to One's arm as soon as he let go. Papa sighed in front of her.
"Must we do this every time?" He shook his head, "You have to get used to this." Papa angled his chair to faced One and spoke low. "You are a weapon, property of the government. Do your orders without question." He turned back to the other girl, the easy smile on his face once more.
"This is Four. She is eight, I believe, like you. She is also a very special girl." One of the white coats handed him a bunny. This was the first time One had seen a bunny, only seeing drawings of it in one of her books. Its white fur looked like snow, or at least what One imagined snow looked like. The next thing the man got handed was a knife. Four's breath hitched beside her.
Slowly and carefully, the man cut a blood red line into the bunny. It yelped out in pain; its fur now stained in crimson. The bunny lay limp in the man's hand.
One looked at the girl. She was crying silent sobs next to her with wet tears running down her face.
"Oh, don't cry," the man said, "I've cut no major arteries. This little guy can still live, though the blood loss might kill him. I want you to save his life." The girl nodded eagerly, clearly wanting to save the animal. One noted the lack of surprise on Four's face. They went through this routine before.
Papa handed the bunny to the girl. She placed a small palm over the cut over the animal. One watched with interest, foreboding sinking to her stomach. Within a few moments the bunny was wiggling in the girl's hands. She handed the bunny back to the man. He examined it, brushing the fur back. No signs of the man's incision showed. The man handed to bunny back to the white coat.
The man's claps echoed throughout the room. "That was wonderful! Is she not amazing? Four can heal major injuries fully. The victim is brought back to its original state. Only problem is, she experiences double their pain." He looked over at Four, she was sweat gathered on her forehead as she held her side. She looked five times paler than before.
"Her body can't handle her power," Papa continued, "We need a stronger vessel to really test its limits."
He handed the knife to One. She took it hesitantly.
"I want you to take her power," Papa ordered. Four's face morphed from pain to horror and understanding lit in her eyes. She stood from the table and started to back away, slowly. One stood as well, advancing towards her, knife in hand, slowly. Four pushed her hands forward as if doing so would create more space between her and One.
"Please don't hurt me," Four spoke for the first time. Her voice was small, angelic. Remorse struck One. Four was an innocent girl, more innocent than One. She didn't deserve to die, and One didn't want to kill her. They were both pawns in Papa's game.
"I can't do this," One whispered before repeating it louder.
The man banged his fist loudly against the metal table. "Do not defy me! If you let this girl live, I get to choose who dies. You know who I'll pick." One's tears ran freely now. Eleven, another young girl. One remembered her big brown doe eyes staring up at her.
Every so often the white coats allowed them to spend time together in the common room. The first time they met, One had been taken from her mother a year prior. The facility was foreign and hostile. She became depressed. She withdrew from the world around her, deciding she would go on living inside her mind instead. It was Eleven who drew her out her shell. Eleven had been three then, One was six.
The moment Eleven laid eyes on One, she fell in love. One could tell. Eleven would cling to her, cry for her. She would bring books to One to read aloud. She loved saying "dolly" over and over to get One to play with her. One had tried to resist but Eleven was too cute deny. The bond they shared grew stronger everyday for the past two years. The white coats used their bond against her, resulting in her first kill. One had killed for Eleven, and this time would be no different.
Four must have seen the change in her eyes. Her first instinct was to run. She turned her back to One, a fatal mistake. The pain on her side made her slow so she limped rather than ran, but it mattered not. One was upon her within seconds. She yanked the collar of Four. Taking advantage of her instability, she effortlessly slid the knife across her throat. Killing a person was easy. You just had to live with yourself afterwards.
Four fell to floor instantly. One could hear her gurgling, struggling for breath, and then nothing. She sat down once again across from the man, wordlessly handing him the knife. He had sat there the entire time, watching the girls with only mild interest.
A familiar tingle ran across her entire body. It was warm, but it also hurt.
"Was it successful?" the man asked, a hint of eager in his voice. One nodded.
"Show me," he said as he used the knife to make another long cut on the bunny.
She glanced down at Four. Blood pooled at her dead body and stained her white clothes. One couldn't help but think she looked much like the bunny from earlier, blood sticking to his limp white body. Only now the bunny was alive, and the girl was dead. A part of One was dead as well.