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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Science Fiction
This is a small look into a separate world where technology focused on an alternate route of advancement.
If it's popular, I will continue to write within this world.

Submitted: September 27, 2016

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Submitted: September 27, 2016



She was running for her life. She had no name, she was naked and still drenched in fluids, but she was running. Her hair was wet, but she could feel sweat on the nape of her neck now. She felt incredibly nauseous, but the fear in her veins pushed her forward.

"Get her!" someone shouted from behind her.
"Don't let her get outside!" another angry yet frantic voice.

Instinctively she veered left, wanting to get away from the voices chasing her. She continued to run down the halls. She noticed that she was running in one giant room, but there were no windows. Everything was sleek, modern, cold. The walls of the building weren't what was making her hair stand on end while she ran for her life. It was what surrounded her.

Bodies. Bodies everywhere. Bodies floating in tanks filled with a clear liquid. She had no idea whether the bodies were alive or not, all she could see were tanks after tanks after tanks full of people just like her.

The girl had no idea what was happening, or where she was. She was afraid of everything that she saw and heard. How could her mind even produce these thoughts and these words? There was no memory to pul from, but somehow she knew and understood her own thoughts and already had a vocabulary. Discomfort brought her back to her current situation. She could now feel her skin starting to tighten from the fluid drying on her. The temperature in the room was starting to affect her more with each passing second; and her feet. The heels and balls of her feet were throbbing each time they slammed into the hard, concrete floor. She was cold and tired and in pain. Yet, she pushed past the pain, pushed past the fatigue, pushed past the cold because fear drove her forward. She couldn't let those men behind her catch her. She couldn't go back into one of those containers, she'd just gotten out. She wanted to be free an---.

Her thought was cut off as a fabric covered and padded forearm slammed into her throat, knocking her back, slamming her onto the floor. She was too surprised to break her fall and the back of her head met the concrete with a harsh cracking sound.

"Subject retrieved." The man who had stopped the girl spoke into a communication device attached to the inside of his ear. It was small and almost invisible.

"Bring her back to me at once." A shrewd female voice snapped on the other end of the device.

"Yes, ma'am."

The lightly armoured man heaved up the unconscious girl into his arms and began walking back through the warehouse. Her head lolled to the side as it hung loosely over his padded forearms. The man ignored the blood trickling from the girl's ears, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he went.

"Let me see her." The hard female voice spoke again as she marched out to meet the man carrying the naked girl. Her heels clacked against the concrete echoing throughout the entire building. She wore a clinical white lab coat, with medium length, straight blonde hair. Her expression was hostile. The woman's mouth was a thin, tight, angry line.

"Look at what you did!" The woman was now outraged. "You fractured her skull, Mr. Holt. Her brain is probably ruined now! I'll have to start all over because of you. Put her back in her tank with fresh fluid. She'll have to start her regeneration period all over again."

"Yes Dr. Brundt. Sorry ma'am." Mr. Holt carried the broken looking girl off down the hall. He swore he heard Dr. Brundt mumble something along the lines of an idiot and not making it home for dinner in time as he left.

Mr. Holt continued down another desolate looking hallway until he came to another opening where he saw another grouping of regeneration tanks, all empty. He walked up to the nearest one and laid the frail girl down inside of one. She was a delicate looking heap, her long disheveled hair falling over her face and body. Carefully, he combed her auburn hair to the side and out of her face. She couldn't have been more than three months in her tank, yet she reminded him of his 15 year old daughter, Lucy. He then turned his gaze to an intricate touch screen and began tapping away at it. As he worked away on the touch screen, the glass door to the tank closed with the small girl inside of it. Then tubes, with needles attached fell down from the top of the tank and hung as fluid filled the human-sized canister. As the fluid rose, the tubes began moving and inserting themselves into the girl, until the tank was full and she was suspended in the fluid completely skewered with needles. Mr. Holt finished on the touch screen and as he was walking away, a small word appeared at the bottom of the girl's tank. Six discreet digital letters in luminous green.


© Copyright 2018 K. M. Florence. All rights reserved.

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