The One Who Survived
Chapter 5
She lay in her healing unit, limp and sick. Yesterday's trauma and horror still hung heavily in the air and was still effecting Cirro physically. She was awake, with open eyes staring venomously down upon her creator for the torture she had endured the night before. Cirro glanced over to the other healing unit, which was housing her lower half. Her legs just floated there, hardly moving except for the occasional twitching fit now and then. You see, because Mandarin had cut her lower belly, the other half of Cirro's waist was all that was keeping her legs together.
She had lost a significant amount of blood and Mandarin was forced to use the extra jar. Cirro dared not touch her cut part, which was completely covered by a metal tube that was pumping enough blood into her system. The feeling was numb, as all Cirro's aftermath traumas were, and she had found it difficult to breath. Her formless ooze, however, was getting no treatment and was slowly leaking out of her scared sides, barley noticeable. But what was strange was somehow Cirro could still feel her legs and still had the will to move them, not that she dared.
Cirro just waited. Waited while hearing the rhythmic beeping of her heart monitor outside of the healing chamber. Soon Mandarin would take her out and stuff her back into her cold cell, and after what he thought was a good enough punishment period, he would sew Cirro's lower half back on. It was just that. Cirro spent one more day in the chamber and then was taken out, feeling rather longing for the cold liquid she floated in. Mandarin held Cirro's arms and a regular Chiro clone held her legs, a kind of flirty smile across his lips. Cirro silently swore she'd kill the clone if he did anything to her legs.
Soon, Cirro was greeted by the cool rushing of a breeze on her neck, and without even opening her eyes she knew they had reached her cell. Mandarin was much gentler with her this time. He carefully placed Cirro on her cot and pulled up the blanket. Cirro noticed another, shorter and more stouter, standing cot on the opposite wall, possibly for her legs. Sure enough, the clone had placed the girl's disembodied legs onto the cot, and turned back to their master.
"Now, child," Mandarin started. "you will lie in this cot for at least one more night. Then, I will reassemble you in the morning. I expect you in my lab ready to assist me that afternoon." And with that, Mandarin quietly walked out, but without his clone slave to follow. Instead, the fake Chiro trotted mutely over to Cirro's side, kneeled down and whispered soft words.
"You'll be alright. I know you might be in pain, but you'll just have to bare it." The clone stood up, eyeing Cirro with a soft sheepish grin, as if he was embarrassed by his words, and trotted out of the doorway, slamming the metal barrier. Cirro turned her head from the side to stare at the ceiling. She knew those words the clone had spoke were false. He had probably just done it to soften Cirro up and think Master Mandarin wouldn't be too harsh when she returned to work. Ha! Cirro laughed at herself for being so headstrong. It got her mixed up in pain no one in the universe should've known. But she had. And now Cirro hated the world for dumping her there.
Why was I to be a clone? Cirro thought miserably. She had asked that question to Mandarin before, but only received, "You're here because you're here." That was confusing the first time Mandarin had said it. The second time she asked, Mandarin simply gave her a small strike across the face. Cirro never questioned her existence again. She just went on to believe she was only there to assist Mandarin. Nothing more. But that question was exhausting to think about. Cirro would often find herself straining her brain for answers, but no avail. It soon became clear to Cirro that there could be no answer. But it was truly one question Cirro would have to answer on her own.
Cirro looked out of the barred window, to see what time of night it was. It was pretty dark out, and Cirro only let out a content sigh and snuggled deeper into her cot, happy that it was too dark in her cell to see her lower half. Her legs would have probably already gained their mobility, and would be twitching wider and longer, as if they had minds of their own and were getting restless. Because there were no actual lights in her cell, Cirro could easily fall into sleep. When she was newly born, Cirro would trot around in the dark like a bat when she was restless at night and desperately wanted something to do. But Mandarin, of coarse, would lock Cirro's cell at night, much like he did tonight.
Soft, almost invisible, light from the world's moon shown dully into the window. Cirro looked on to the light, her weak aches and pains slowly fading. Cirro always had a mind for knowledge, but never had an experience to properly learn it. And when I say proper, I mean being taught like any other child would. Going to a school and being taught publicly by a teacher with other students. Of coarse, Cirro had to have a brilliant mind to keep her job and Mandarin had taught her all he knew in the scientific world. Which was a lot. And as aggressive and headstrong as Cirro was, she was learning things you might expect a college graduate to know. Any scientist would stand agape at her brilliance, and this would could always prove useful.
With all her strength, Cirro pulled her head to one side of her pillow and reached her sore arm to the pillow. She dug her hand into a tear in the lumpy raggedy thing and felt around in the musty cotton. She found a hard square block in the center of it. Cirro forced the object out of the pillow and stared at it. It was a book. Cirro had sneaked it long ago from Mandarin's lab, eager to read it. But it wasn't a scientifically accurate book on bio-engineering. It was a fantasy book that a young boy around Chiro's age would read. Cirro just figured a Chiro clone that had traveled into the city to destroy the Hyperforce had picked it up and carried it back before he was backfired.
The title was called Inkspell and the cover was adorned with pictures of fairies, goblins, a proud sapphire snake, and a few indescribable creatures. All the creatures were hidden in a thick brush that gave way in the middle for a mysterious yellow castle on top of a steep cliff. (A/N: This is one of my favorite books and I'm still reading it, but it's really good.) Cirro recoiled from opening the book, like she was about to release a wild creature into the world. In her mind, Cirro read a note on the cover. "The captivating sequel to Inkheart, the critically acclaimed international bestseller."
(that is really on the cover!) Cirro slowly opened to the first page, and began reading.
Time began to slow to a halt as Cirro kept on reading, feeling the words and their meaning as she read. Soon, in no less than an hour, Cirro had finished at least half.
"Oh, how I wish I could have read the first book!" Cirro whispered. The pages' words still banged in her head and made Cirro so happy. Happy was the only way to describe it and she wore a jubilant smile on her lips. Putting the book back in its hiding place, Cirro laid down on the cot, a bit happier at the world. Her legs were kicking and violently swinging on its cot, threatening to break the rickety bed. Cirro sighed at being well-content at the moment. Tomorrow she'd go back to face the world, wiser.