Wanted Girl

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: The Science Fiction Hub

Themes of human experimentation AGAIN.

Chapter 7 (v.1) - Chapter 7

Submitted: July 06, 2018

Reads: 48

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Submitted: July 06, 2018



I'm back in the lab, lying like a zombie while the C.I.A scientists get themselves excited about their new results from me. They've found the link between my brain activity and level of radiation emitted from my body. And they've discovered I don't have a half-life. That my whole body is constantly unstable, not just a few freak atoms. They've also cut my head open to try to see if my brain is any different, see anything else, then stitched me back up, and tested new drugs on me. Then they found out all of my plans using truth serums. They know about Russia.

"Stand." One of them says, and my body obeys without my say-so. I haven't got to the can't – stand – I'm – so – drugged stage yet. "Over there. Then stay." I go to where they're pointing. I'm stood in front of a large chamber, and someone's messing with controls. I'm led in, strapped to a chair, connected to thousands of wires. A small charge runs through me, making my body tingle. My radiation levels are forced up, my skin beginning to glow.

"Right, we're going to get that power today no matter what. I don't care if she dies." I hear someone say.

"Okay. Well, are we going to start now?" I hear another person say.

"Yes. We'd better get out, though. Her levels are going to get high." The first voice says, and I hear them leave. I feel the current getting stronger, and it snaps me out of the drug haze. I whimper, pulling weakly at the restraints. Then it gets worse. A lot worse.

Pain, unimaginable pain. I feel like my body is being ripped apart limb by limb, feel like I'm engulfed in fire. I scream, pulling desperately against the straps that hold me in, but I'm getting weaker. The current is stronger, and I feel myself disconnect with my power a little. It's unbearable. I scream as it gets worse, worse, my skin burning, the electricity getting too high…

Then it stops.

The door is yanked open and I'm unstrapped and dragged out by uncaring hands. Everyone is dressed in seriously strong protection. I'm lifted back up onto the table, and they examine me like I'm a block of meat instead of a person. My skin tingles horribly, and my head throbs.

"Bloody hell, are those…?" Someone asks, their voice full of shock. I recognize the voice – it's the woman I told to stop pretending to care about me when I first woke up. My vision darkens. A fresh wave of pain consumes me.

"Not radiation burns. Probably from the current. She'll heal." Someone else says dismissively.

"…She's in shock. Shouldn't we be treating her?" The woman asks softly.

"We'll get to that. Don't you see, she survived it? And we have some of her power…look." The other person sounds awed. My chest tightens. There's no way I'll survive any more of that chamber.

"This is wrong. It's immoral. What if this was you?! Look at her! She's half-fried by the electricity! It's a wonder she's still alive!" the woman shouts. So she does care.

"Do you actually care about Experiment 248?" the other person asks, their voice hard. There's a pause.

"…No." I'm the only one who hears the lie.

"Good. Because once we've harvested all of her power, planted it into out army, she's being destroyed. That'll happen whether we get her all of power or not, actually. She's been here two years already…" Their voices fade away. I can't get air into my lungs. I can't breathe. My vision is dark, growing dimmer. My pain begins to fade away. I know I'm dying. They're not paying attention. Death would be a liberation, a mercy to me. Over the two years since I came back, I've been completely dehumanized. Some days I even wish for death, for an end to this constant stream of pain and loneliness, and end to the terror. I let myself fade away…

Something's being hurriedly placed on my face. Air is forced into my lungs, and the pain comes back, worse than ever. I whimper, but no-one hears me. I can breathe again. The thing on my face is removed and I can still breathe. My vision brightens until I can see my surroundings. I'm back in the hospital room I first woke up in after the car crash. People rush around me.

"What happened?"

"Shock. She stopped breathing. None of us noticed at first."

"What caused the shock?"

"The electro-shock chamber. She was half-dead when we pulled her out." I listen to their conversation as they treat me. Then I black out.

I wake in my room. The window shows a tiny splash of stars. The events of the last lab session circle viciously in my head. I hate it here. Here, I don't know what happiness feels like. I only know terror, pain, sadness. I close my eyes and try to find sleep again, because when I sleep I can forget about the present. My head throbs like crazy, and my body still hurts.

I fail to find sleep and instead daydream about The Outside. Then it hits me. I'm eighteen. I'm an adult. I let out a choked sob, and roll over to howl into my thin pillow. All I want is to be free. And safe. I don't really care about the fact that I'm radioactive, although that's the thing causing the problems. This curse has actually come in handy at times. I know I can't banish the curse. But I know I can run to a safe place. I just need to escape…

I look towards my door, and something inside me tells me to open it, to try. I look up at the camera and find it hanging off the wall by a mere thread, ripped out and smashed. I gasp. Mom. Who else would have done that for me?

I stand shakily, my headache getting worse, the pain in my body flaring up, and try the door. It slides open soundlessly, and I gasp again. I look down the bright corridor, and see no-one. Left, my instincts say. Go left. I slowly creep off, glad that my feet are bare and I'm dressed in a short, thin white dress thing. I sneak silently, and come face to face with a door. I stare at it and see a keypad. Put your hand on it, I'm told from inside. Burn out the system. I place my hand over the keypad and let it heat up. There's a soft hiss, and the door opens. I smile. I can get out!

I set off down the corridors, disabling obstacles and irradiating anyone I encounter (which is paid with the price of regret, sickness and horror at myself), and manage to slip past all of the security unnoticed. I make it outside.

I'm actually outside. It must be summer again-the air is warm, sweet, welcoming, fresh. I smile, a big grin I can't wipe off my face. I look up and see millions of stars spread out above me. I look around me, hoping there's a car or something I can jumpstart, and see my own car lit up by a beam of moonlight like someone is saying "here you go, Phoebe, this is it!". I walk closer and see it definitely is my car. My car, which should be a total write-off. My car, sitting out here in the middle of nowhere, gleaming in the night, with a few slight dents in the door and a big crack across the sunroof. I pull on the driver's door and find it open. I slide in and note my bag on the passenger's seat and my keys in the ignition, waiting for me to turn it. I rifle through my bag and find all my stuff is there, including all the money. There's also an addition-a small gun and plenty of ammo.

I turn the key, and the car fires up, good as new. I hear people running out of the buildings around me, shouting.


"How the hell did she get out?!"

"Stop her escaping!"

"RUN, HONEY, RUN! GET FAR AWAY FROM HERE! DRIVE!" My mother's voice screams over everyone else's, and I see her for a second. Then I slam down on the acceleration pedal, my foot protesting painfully, and spin the wheel manically, turning towards the road that leads away from here. People follow their base instincts and scatter as I hurtle past. Everything and everyone becomes a blur as I speed recklessly away from experimentation, captivity and fear to freedom, hope and personalization. I tear past the entrance gates and leave Hell behind me in a cloud of dust. The Area 51 sign winks at me as I leave it behind.

© Copyright 2019 The Lone Wanderer. All rights reserved.


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