Test subject: 012 - Jan 2116.
The corridors all looked the same. White walls, bright lights, and that sharp hospital like smell that clings to everything. I am used to it by now, but it never stopped feeling cold.
I sprinted down the hall, toast hanging from my mouth, laughing as the guards shouted behind me.
"012! Stop right there!"
I turned just long enough to grin and wave before bolting down another corridor. The containment centre could be so painfully dull sometimes, I had to make my own fun somehow.
As I ran past a few scientists and other "experiments," I caught snippets of conversation.
"He's at it again," one muttered, sounding almost bored.
I rounded the corner and smacked straight into something solid. I'd seen it coming a split second before it happened, but not soon enough to stop myself. The impact sent me flying backwards onto my ass. My nose stung, my toast fell, and when I blinked up, I froze.
A security guard. His once-pristine uniform now sported a lovely smear of jam.
"Oh, uh… haha, sorry! Didn't see you there!" I jumped to my feet and tried to wipe it off with my sleeve, which only made it worse. He stared down at me, unimpressed.
Before I could charm my way out of it, another guard, the one who'd been chasing me, grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt.
"Gotcha. You're in so much trouble, 012. What made you think you could take extra rations?"
"I was hungry?" I offered weakly, flashing a grin. Judging by his glare, he didn't find it funny.
He dragged me down the corridor, muttering under his breath, until we reached an office door. A quick swipe of his card, and I was shoved inside.
The office looked like every other room in this miserable place, bare walls, sterile light. Behind a desk buried in papers sat Guardian Watson. He looked up, and the faintest sigh left him.
"What is it this time?" he said, voice rough like gravel.
The guard piped up. "Caught him stealing food again, sir."
Watson leaned back in his chair, studying me with those sharp, tired eyes. "Again, 012?"
I gave a guilty smile.
"You can't keep breaking the rules," he said flatly.
I knew that, but what else was I supposed to do between… tests?
When I didn't answer, he waved me off. "One more incident, and you'll be sent to the Segregation Unit. Understand?"
My smile dropped instantly. I nodded. I'd been there once, soon after I arrived here. Never again.
The guard pushed me back into the corridor and walked away.
I made my way to the courtyard, desperate for air. The January chill bit at my skin, but it felt better than the recycled air inside. On one of the benches sat two familiar faces.
"012!" 023 called, her copper hair bright against the gray sky. "Heard you got in trouble again!"
018 snorted, his ash-brown hair dull against 023's fiery orange. "How are you still not locked in the Segregation Room?"
"Because," I said, striking a heroic pose, "I'm so charming."
They both laughed. That sound, real laughter, was rare here.
018 shook his head. "You're about as charming as a soggy sock."
I gasped dramatically. "Oh, you wound me!" I fell to my knees, clutching my chest, then grabbed him and dragged him down with me.
"Get off me!" he laughed, trying to wriggle free.
"I can't. My heart's broken. I'll never recover."
"023, help me!" he called, laughing harder.
She giggled, stepping in to pull my arms away but I just grabbed her too, pulling her into the pile. All three of us were laughing now, tangled together on the cold ground. For a moment, it almost felt like we were normal kids.
Then I suddenly stop. Someone is coming.
"Enough."
A guard approached, expression stone-cold.
Great. The fun police.
"It was just a joke," I said, dusting myself off.
"Playtime's over. Back to your rooms."
I gave a little nod to the others, and we followed orders. After seeing them safely back, I went to my own room.
The door clicked shut behind me with a soft lock.
The room was as plain as ever, bare walls, no colour, no warmth. I walked to the small mirror, catching sight of the jam still smeared on my cheek.
"Great," I muttered. "And they didn't even tell me."
I wiped it off, then tugged at a lock of my messy curly blond hair. It nearly reached the tip of my nose. "Guess it's haircut day soon," I mumbled to myself.
Once I was done, I flopped onto the bed with a sigh. The silence pressed in again.
"God," I muttered, staring up at the ceiling. "This place is so boring."
______________
A few days drag by, all the same boring routine. I haven't been called in for tests as much lately, and honestly, I'm grateful. I'm lounging in the canteen, tossing my meatball back and forth, leaning my head on my hand. Ugh… there's nothing to do. I lean back, staring at the ceiling. 023 sits across from me, quiet, fidgeting with her fingers.
The canteen is practically empty, just five of us today. Lately, fewer and fewer new kids are brought back, and hardly any new kids arrive and I can't figure out why.
"When do you think 018 will be back?" 023 asks, her voice small, nervous. Can't blame her. No one really knows what happens in the testing rooms. They always change.
"Don't worry," I say, trying to sound confident. "018's strong."
We sit in tense silence, waiting. He should be back soon…
Then the canteen doors slam open, and a guard storms in, dragging 018 behind him before shoving him roughly onto the floor.
"What the hell?!" I jump to my feet, rushing to him with 023 close behind.
"What have you done to him!?" I grit through my teeth, fury rising. The guard doesn't answer. Just stands there like he owns the place. Bastard.
018 lies limp in my arms, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, completely unresponsive. My chest tightens.
"Come on, 018. Focus!" I shake him lightly. Nothing.
023 gasps, her hands over her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks. My mind races. Then it clicks.
"018… get up. You're making 023 cry."
Something stirs. His body twitches. His eye flickers.
"Where am I?" His voice is broken, distant.
"You're in the canteen. You're safe," I say, forcing calm into my voice. He just nods.
I notice the bandage over his right eye, the bruise around his neck. What the hell happened in there?
The other test subjects don't move. They just sit and watch, like it's none of their business. Can't blame them really. They don't want to get in trouble.
Then he starts coughing. Blood bubbles from his mouth. My stomach drops.
"No… please."
I hold him tight as he gasps and coughs, blood streaking down his face, mixing with tears. His body shakes violently and then… silence.
He's limp in my arms. I can't hear him breathe.
"Please! Someone help him!" I shout at the guard. He doesn't move.
Burnout. That's what they call it. When someone pushes their power past their limits, past what their body can handle, their system collapses. Even with our modified genes, our bodies have limits. Too much… and you burn out. Too much… and you die.
023 collapses beside me, sobbing.
"He can't be dead… no."
I grit my teeth. The guard radios for backup, and another one shows up, trying to take 018 from me. I refuse.
"012! Let go! You're on your last warning!" he snarls.
Something snaps. I strike. My punch lands squarely, sending one guard staggering back. The second lunges but I dodge him effortlessly, over and over. Then a sharp buzz cuts through the air. Electricity shoots from the collar around my neck, and my legs buckle.
Damn. It feels like fire, like the first time someone injects themselves with Lunex.
I grab the collar, struggling, but the last thing I see before darkness swallows me is 023 reaching out for me.
_______________
When I wake, I'm in a large, sterile room. One wall is taken up by a wide mirror, an observation window, no doubt. The Segregation Unit.
A row of bunk beds lines the wall, and I realise I've been dumped onto one of the lower ones. It's easier for them to keep an eye on us when we're all penned together like this.
Though no-one is stupid enough to get themselves set here. Now that I'm looking around, I think I might be alone. It's hard to tell. With no personal belongings, no signs of life, every room here looks the same, cold, empty, and stripped of anything human.
I swing my legs off the bed… 018 is gone… My chest feels heavy, numb. Another one… gone.
A click from a mic snaps me to attention.
"012, I see you are awake. I hope you remember why you are here," a voice says, calm, clipped.
I stare at the mirror, saying nothing.
The voice continues. "You've broken the rules. You will not return to the main facility until permitted."
Great.
Not that the difference is huge. Segregation is basically the same, just more tests and zero outdoor time. The mic clicks… conversation over.
I pace the room, trying to focus. Don't let them beat you. That's what I tell myself, but my chest aches. The image of 018 won't leave me. His blank eyes. The blood. The way his hand went still in mine.
I drag my hands down my face, exhaling hard. He didn't deserve that. None of us do. He was one of the few who could still laugh, even here. Now he's just… gone.
And what about 023?
My throat tightens, and for a second, I can feel something burn behind my eyes. No. No crying. That's what they want, to see us break so we follow the rules better.
I slap my cheeks a few times, the sting grounding me. Focus. Stay sharp. Don't let them win.
I head for the door. Surprisingly, it's open.
Peeking out into the corridor, I notice it's narrower here, more heavily guarded. It feels like they're trying contain a monster. My eyes dart down the hall and I start to explore to keep from thinking about 018.
The corridors are unchanged since my last visit. Then I start hearing it. Thudding. Repeated, rhythmic. I follow the sound and it leads to an open room. A gym? This wasn't here last time.
Two guards stand inside, weapons raised, poised to fire at the slightest provocation. Strange.
They barely glance at me as I enter.
At the far wall, a figure moves. Workout clothes. Another weird detail, no one ever gets anything besides the sterile two-piece gowns.
The thudding continues. I walk closer. It's a guy, maybe my age. His movements are… mesmerising, like his fighting for his life. I can't look away.
Sweat glistens in his dark hair. His punches land hard. The bag barely looks like it will last any longer. As I move for a better angle, I notice black swirls curling around his hands and tendrils snaking up his arms.
Lost in watching, I fail to see the bench press and I trip face first. Ouch.
I roll onto my back, rubbing my nose.
When I open my eyes, a figure is standing over me, face shadowed by the lighting. Well, that was embarrassing.
"Are you okay?" The voice is deep, rough around the edges. He reaches his hand out. I take it, and he hauls me up with ease that makes me pause.
I straighten my clothes, look up, and take in the details. A little taller, more built. And then… those confused black eyes looking back at me.
I feel heat creep up my neck.
Wow.