Here's chapter 8, finally. Thanks so much to everyone who followed and favorited. Sorry if this chapter's a little short and took forever. Ha omg I wrote most of this during finals last week and thought I posted this for some reason and realized I didn't just now sorrryyy. Kinda glad I didn't though because I got to proofread a little...yay. Anyway I was a bum and didn't do anything over break and just got back to school again today and it was hell. Okay, done complaining hope it's not too bad. Thx for readingggggg.
United Luck- Thx so much for reviewing again, it means a lot. I really liked the idea about italics so I did that in this chapter and will probably change the others later. Although the anti-Semitic viewpoint would be interesting and I'll add some aspects regarding that in later chapters
(but probably not a lot) as well as flashbacks to her learning English. Thanks so much for the advice, you're awesome!
"Hold her down." The man's voice, and identity are obstructed by a large paper mask.
"She's even not trying to move."
I love it when the scientists talk like I can't hear them, like I'm not lying between them as they carry on their conversation.
"With this," The man maliciously holds up a strange metal headset hooked up to cables of thick wiring. "She will."
"Serum trial 183, injecting now." The other lab technician replies. At this point I don't even flinch as the giant needle is punched into the vein in my inner elbow. After four years of being a lab rat, of being experimented on, does that to a person. I look at the purple trace marks that dot my arms. What's one more?
A familiar, stomach turning nausea fills me as he depresses the syringe.
"Tie her down now for phase two."
I don't fight as he pulls leather straps across my wrists, ankles, hips and forehead. It's better not to. I don't flinch as he forces another strap between my teeth. There's no point anymore. All there is is pain. It's been the most reliable and constant thing for the last four years of my life, since I was brought here.
Goosebumps cover my skin two metal pieces are placed securely to my temples. I'm wearing a thin tank top and loose pants, my bare feet numb with cold. When was the last time I was warm? The man connects the metal to the wire he was holding and connects that to some machine at the edge of my vision. My skin itches where they've attached sticky paper monitors, which each feed yet another wire to a different machine. When he's finished adjusting the head piece, they both exit, leaving me alone in the torture chamber.
They reappear behind a clear window facing me, standing among a small team of dangerously curious scientists. One in particular catches my eye, her red lips a stark contrast against all the shades of white and grey. Her dark hair is perfectly coiled, as always. I know my hair is long, dirty and unkept. Her need for perfection makes me livid.
My upper lip involuntarily curls in disgust at her face. Or it might be fear.
How can a doctor be so evil. I mean, of course, she's tried to explain it to me. How they needed weapons to fight terrorism, to defend against bad people, protect good people. She asks me why don't I wouldn't just do this service my country. Asks why the serum isn't working.
Her eyes find mine at that moment and she smiles, crimson parting to reveal wolf-like teeth. I immediately relax my expression, covering the emotion with a neutral mask. Someone told me once to...to not let them see. It'll so fuzzy, a blur of training and fighting and punching and experiments. I can't remember it all.
"Starting voltage, 200 volts." A clinical voice echoes over a sort of speaker system from behind the barrier.
Great, electrocution now. I'm surprised it's taken me this long to figure out. My head always seems foggy. At least this should be over fast. Maybe if I'm lucky they'll miscalculate the dosage. Just a little too much. I try to remember their past attempts to activate the serum; Sleep deprivation, starvation, waterboarding, isolation, poison, beatings, blood loss... it's all scattered and broken in my head. All four years of it.
It's quiet for a little bit, long enough that I wish they'd just pull whatever lever or push whatever button so I could just go back to my cell. I regret this as a static pops comes from the box and long needles of pain radiate from my temples. Every muscle in my body screams and seizes uncontrollably. My back arcs, sharp hip bones straining again the leather. Wetness trickles between my clenched teeth and bubbles down my chin. I can't even scream.
Darkness dances violently across my vision, but somehow I'm able to hang on to consciousness. After an eternity it stops.
I struggle to look over at the window, almost no motor control in my neck. Everything is sore and on fire. They're all busy analysing the data from their latest experiment.
A few seconds later machine lets out another sharp pop.
This time it's different though. Something inside of me snaps, releases. The electricity is soothing somehow in a way I can't explain. My mind is clear and sharp, like I can feel each thought forming.
I feel in control.
I'm distantly aware of the machine turning off, but the electricity seems to be seeping from me, small bolts arcing between my outstretched fingers, snapping in my ears. A high buzzing noise seems to be coming from everywhere. Leather burns where it touches my skin, the contact sending up smoke of its putrid smell.
"0298, stand down-,"
The people in the window are staring at me and in the reflection I see myself, glowing, strapped to the table. A blue green shroud seems to surround my body, my hair weightless in the energy. Swirling turquoise spheres of energy have replaced my eyes, veins of it crawling down my face. It's mesmerizing.
The door opens and a dozen armed guards pour in. This time I'm not afraid. I don't tremble in a corner, curled in a ball, hugging my knees to my chin like I have so many times before.
Instinctively, I just release the energy. I surge.
In slow motion, electricity arcs from my fingertips toward the men. They scream out, clothing and skin and hair burning, shaking in convulsions as they drop to the floor. It's nice not to be the one being hurt for once. More come in behind then and I do the same thing, their smoking bodies piled one on top of the other.
Eventually they stop sending people in. I can see them panic, scrambling behind the observation window. Now I'm the one studying them.
As I start working on the straps tying me down, a shrieking noise blares out of the speaker system. It dives into my brain and explodes, scrambling everything the electricity had put back together. I can't concentrate and lose my connection to the power as it burrows deep within me, hiding from the noise.
The sound stays on until the energy fades. A few minutes later, the Doctor cautiously steps in over the bodies, and is followed by the two scientists who set up today's test, one holding a small black box.
"Well it worked didn't it? We've activated the serum." She said. "Took long enough, but here we are. How do you feel 0298?"
I grunt back at her through the leather.
"Jesus, they're dead." One man said, crouching down next to the guards, his finger on one up their necks, checking for a pulse I knew wasn't there.
"Look at this," One of the other men interrupted, gloves fingers hovering an inch or two above my shoulder. I don't look, locked in a staring contest with the Doctor, but I feel a fiery pain flare across my back, shoulders and upper arms as he accidentally brushes a gloved finger against my skin. "Lichtenberg scars. But the voltage would of have to of been equivalent to that of a lightning strike. We didn't use anywhere near that amount."
"The serum. Results are similar in their own way to the other subjects. We need to run more tests-,"
"Finally a success," Their words trip over one another, talking like it's a good thing I just killed a dozen of their people.
"Later, that's enough for today." The Doctor dismisses him. "First," She holds out a hand expectantly and he opens the black box, pulling a think black collar from it. She moves toward me and I twist away from her as she clips it around my neck. "If you try it again, this will kill you before you can get it off. That noise from earlier?"
How could I forget?
"The frequency. We can't hear it. You can. And if we keep it on long enough..."
I swallow, throat compressed by the weight of it. As I look down, the glow is gradually fading from my skin. The buzzing hum from the all the machines in the rooms still hasn't stopped.
I'm numb as I'm freed from the cold table and the guards hold my upper arms, my legs trailing limply behind me back to my cell. My hands are shaking, I can't even feel anything. I don't feel regret. Just anger.
What did they do to me?
What did I just do to them?
If you couldn't tell, I'm not an expert on electroshock therapy. Or anything really. I tried googling amps and volts and shit, but my brain hurts and now I have a headache (ok reading that back over I sound really dumb)... so I BSed it. Anyways hope you enjoyed and thx so much for taking the time to read!