Destrillians: The Awakening of a New Breed

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Channy

Bad Habit
AKA
Ruby Rose, Lucy
…the sky was blue…
……birds were chirping in the willow trees……
…children were singing…
……the barn at the far end of the neighbor’s field was a dull red……
…children were dancing…
……she had played there often……
…this is the way the world ends…
……her mother was alive… but her father had died recently……
…this is the way the world ends…
……rain clouds were on the horizon……
…not with a bang…
……but with a whimper……

Sierra sobbed silently in her cryogenic slumber. She was alone in her prison. The sensors blinked as a recorder scribbled down her fluctuating mental state onto a roll of smooth, white paper. Outside the tube, the room was mostly dark. A few lamp lights were still on. A panel of buttons glittered like constellations in the bleak night sky.

3…

Her eyelids fluttered and she threatened to open them. The salt water burnt though, and even in this state of unconscious rest, she knew not to open them. Sierra shook in her warm liquid. Trembling as if she was entrenched in a nightmare. Suspended two feet from the floor on a large steel table in the center of the room, her toes wiggled. It was an unconscious action.

The human mind was a wondrous thing. It often acted on impulse totally astounding the doctors and scientists at the ward. They mused together if they could find a way to enslave her permanently; to direct every action conducted, every thought construed, every emotion under control. But the mind, no matter how it was probed and molested, would never fully be understood.

The attribute screen was dimly lit. White. The text was orange. It was hard to read.

884672-01
Destrillian Prototype # 000-000-001
Sierra Lutraine
Heaven’s Hope
Sub-outlet 3423a
Age: 18 years: 2 months: 4 days: 10 hours: 56 minutes: 23 seconds
Hyper-rest 23 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 10
Dr. Syn Panyon ext. 9
Log: 24


The log turned to 25 a few moments later. Sierra was trembling now. However, the sensors attached to her arms and head were not reading the fluctuation in her cerebral cortex. Something wasn’t right.

..25…

Error in Section 3
Recording
Alerting staff


An alarm tripped in the office down the hall. Two female nurses hurried out into the corridor and rushed to the room. The door slid open, and for a moment the light from beyond flooded in. The sliver of light touched down on Sierra’s chambers before vanishing completely. It was all she needed.

..15…

The two women pecked at the keys of a board for a moment, before finding themselves standing as Sierra’s feet. She wasn’t trembling anymore. The scanners had returned to 'normal' and it was as if nothing had transpired. The lights dimmed. The siren ceased. The guards outside waiting returned to their outposts.

The left nurse let out a relieved sigh. "We need to get that checked," she shuddered. "That's the second time in three weeks."

The tallest nurse turned and walked back into the hallway. The door closed behind her. The shorter more round nurse was standing there, still, looking at the young, nude girl in the tank. She felt sorry for her, for just an instance. She deserved so much more than this.

…..12..

Shaking her head she began to walk away and cast her blue hues forward, when there came a sound behind her. Chills slid along her spine, pricking the hairs on her back to stand on end. She thought to run for the door. It was as if a specter was standing behind her. She could sense something.

"Who is there?" she asked. She was a psychic. A paranormal. This was why she was hired here, in this wing, just like there was a paranormal assigned to every other Destrillian. She could feel full awareness. "Sierra?"

Sierra was still in her tube. Her left hand was twitching violently. The nurse approached the tube ever so slowly. A thickness filled the room and the air became cold. The faintest of noises sounded off in the distance, barely distinguishable despite the level of silence. She stopped short of the alarm button and peered down at the nude woman.

…21…..

The sound happened again. It was like... like, a faulty wire. A short. A low crackling sound that lasted for only a second. She was afraid now. Her abilities were screaming for her to punch the alarm, but she felt if she moved, something would grab her by the ankle or throw her down. "Sierra," she spoke and her breath hung in the air like death. "I can feel you. You are aware I am here."

Yes…

"Sierra, you know the staff will be mad if you begin to awaken. They will have to run more tests… more needles... more pain, Sierra."

No… No more pain.

The voice was in her head, yet, at the same time, it was not. It was here. It was there. It was in her soul. It was in the fetus that grew in her womb. It was in the saliva as she licked her dry lips clean. She was paralyzed in fear.

You have always been good to me, Stephanie…

The sound reverberated through the room again. The nurse cried. Sierra whimpered. The Grim Reaper was coming…

..27….

For a moment, Sierra dreamed... but it was foggy.

She remembered sitting on a woman's lap - her mothers. Yes. Her mothers lap. Rebecca. How had she forgotten her face and the smell of her body? She leaned back against her and listened to her read her verses from Revelations. She had spoken of the Grim Reaper that day... so very long ago.

The control panel near to the nurse’s outstretched hand began to crackle. A little puff of black, smoldering smoke rose from the panel and burned her eyes. Tears ran down her face. She screamed inside herself. She was unable to cry aloud!

Lightning flared from the panel and touched her fingertips. Flesh charred and the metal buttons on the front of her white uniform, burnt deep into her skin. It passed through her body and exited out her other hand. It leapt!

Two feet from the woman's flaming hand it touched the panel at the base of the cryo-tube. The glass tube became foggy at the bottom and began to rise. Small cracks formed at its base.

Error deleted
Malfunction
Circuit 7 delay
Reroute to 8


The LCD shattered.

…..1

The smoke alarms began to chime and the lights in the room automatically flipped on. A nurse down the hall jumped on the phone.

"Security to Cryogenics. Security to Cryogenics!"

The tube burst and the thick gel hung in the air for a split second before falling to the floor and leaving Sierra lying on the table. Her white hues snapped open. Steadily she sat up on the steel tabletop and the tingling sensation of a headache began to creep its way through her mind. She didn’t care to notice the shards of glass embedded in her back. She felt blinded but as the sunlight of her dream faded it revealed itself to be a steel room. She brought her hands up and cradled her face as small puddles of tears formed and slipped through her fingertips. Droplets fell warmly onto her legs.

This caught her attention as she brought her hands away from her face. Her interest shifted from one idea to another… Her back was in pain… Where was her mother… Who was the woman that voice belonged to, and where was she... But one pressing matter remained unshaken before her.

She was… free? She was free… She was free!

Sierra needed to know if it was a fluke or if her fellow Destrillians were free as well. So she sent out a message to the others, a warning, no, a notice. An invitation to each of them.

My comrades… For far too long we have been slaves… Pawns in this twisted game of chess… Now is our time… to awaken.
 
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Shadow Rogue

Pro Adventurer
AKA
If you see me you'd know.
Eydin grunted with each lunge he mustered, throwing his body upward along the steep face of the rocky mountain. Each stretch of his arm caused his limb to tremble until his fingers dug into a hole and held fast, ready to yank the rest of the weight upward. He looked back with his sky blue eyes downward. They narrowed as he searched the origin of his ascent; the tree tops were barely visible now, only little green points keeping a guard against the long vertical road he took. He felt his stomach churn until he looked to someone closer. The face staring up at him with a smile, effortlessly following him. The image steeled his nerves and he began to climb with renewed energy. With a swing of his elbow onto a flat surface, he lurched his midsection onto the corner of a narrow walkway.

"I hope it's up here..." He murmured before kicking his leg along the corner and rolling onto the path. He laid on his side and dipped a hand down to his follower, looking into those eyes. What...color were they? His hand squeezed the soft skin that had worn smooth, and pulled her up to the same level. We're close, I know it. With careful balance, he stood up facing the wall and helped his accomplice up. Slowly, step by step, the waddled along the trail. "We'll be done soon, I promise!" He said enthusiastically, with the tone of already accomplishing what he had set out to do. The trail wrapped around the rockface, and sprouting from the stone way, a beautiful blossoming rose of the deepest red. It glistened with the dew it cherished so much in the harsh enviroment. The sun speckled it with bright glints of light from the moisture.

"There it is! It will be yours!" Eydin edged closer, stretching an arm out. The thorns threatened his hand, but that hand was undeterred. His fingers wrapped gingerly around the stem, thorns sticking out between knuckles and digits. He pulled the flower toward him, but it refused to yield it's stony perch. He gritted his teeth and yanked harder, feeling it snap only a few roots. "Give in, stubborn plant!" He growled before yanking outward. With a cloud of dusty dirt and shaking the dew onto Eydin's arm, it floated out into the open air along with it's captor's grip. There was a moment of absolute floating, the trophy now in Eydin's posession.

However, Eydin felt the steady pull of gravity as his feet lost purchase on the walkway. Those blue eyes widened in fear as he looked toward the girl who devotedly followed him the entire time. With a panicked look, he grasped out for him No, don't! Is all he thought before her fingers found purchase on his shirt. Eydin briefly halted in mid air before the weight tugged the girl head first with him. The screams sounded so far away. Her name, what is it?! Atleast know that! His mind raced as quick as they fell, trying to tell her something, something he wanted to say. To tell her to do something to save herself. I should have done this by myself... The screams of both of them gently echoed across the tree tops on their way down. Eydin felt a gentle pull toward the surface he was parallel to, or maybe it grows outward at the bottom, but his back began to be pelted with the jagged surface, sending him into a spin. He reached out for the girl, but she continued to fall, unhindered beneath him. "Ah! Ah!" Eydin noticed the large rock that was eye-level with him out of the corner of his eye during his wild spin. He knew he couldn't avoid it. He only cringed and wracked his brain for the name of the girl he had just doomed. "Aaaaaaah!"

"AAAAAAAAAALITAAAAA!!!" Eydin screamed in the midst of a torrent of wind, spiraling around his cold dark room. The faint buzz of the alarm was drowned out by the whipping gale. The emergency red lights twirled outside the hallway, casting glimpses of the scene around him. Eydin's wide tear-filled eyes tried to take in what was around him; bodies everywhere, bits of his cryo-cradle as he affectionately called it strewn about the room. Random body parts scattered into corners, and bloody smudges all around the room. The whirlwind soon died as Eydin came to consciousness. He was only briefly frozen in his bent over position before his head pulsed with a wave of pain that swept from the inside out to his skull. He winced, his sharp features trembling as he sobbed at the sudden headache. "Angh! Someone's definately fired..."

His eyes searched wildly until he found a dismembered arm gripping a pistol-looking syringe. "Oh-hoh! Just what the doctor ordered!" Eydin reached a quivering arm over to the syringe, while his vision blurred. "Come on, I look too good to have my head explode, grab the damn thing!" Clambering over the stiff fingers, he dragged the entire arm closer before prying the syringe free. You've gotten this thing a thousand times by now... it's at the neck... find the pulse.. he fingered his vein, feeling for the depression of where the needle had punctured it numerous times. "B-bingo..." He said, voice trembling.

He took a deep breath before stabbing his neck, and pulled the trigger. He could feel the pulse start to wane, forcing a drug-like sigh over his lips. "aaahhhh, Another round on me...." He said somewhat dreamily, his head swimming through the natural painkillers they released at the alarming sensation. "Whew... what happened? Blood, syringe, cut off limbs... Man I'm in so much trouble..." The red lights reflected off a lamenated card still around the neck of a scientist's body. A shine that caught the blue and white eyes of Eydin.

He snatched it up and lept to his feet. "I got a golden ticket~ I got a golden ticke-errwhoa..." He staggered, falling to a knee. Slow and steady, you did just wake up...right? "I...I think?" He surveyed the room again, a slow fear creeping over him. "...Did I?" He cautiously walked over to the door, and lifted the ID card to swipe it. A faint, familiar voice echoed in his head, which he recognized as his own twisted kind. "A...revolution?"
 

Meteo

wolf among the sheep
...Raised voices from beyond closed doors...
...Anxious pleas congested with trepidation...
...Mother?...Father?...
...Foreboding curiosity...

...A flurry of action...
...Mother and Father darting about...
...A nervous panic...
...Shrouded in confusion...

...A resounding knock at the door...
...An omen of danger...
...Evil men with murderous intent...
...The Harbingers of death...​


A tenebrous reminiscence penetrated the silence of his mentally vacant slumber. Within the bleak darkness of his desolate mind, devoid of thought, a dim light shone through. A light heralding a clarion sense of familiarity. Vague memories of a distant and virtually forgotten past inundated the dry reservoir of cognition, triggering a chain reaction of cerebral synapses, and neural communication. His subconscious existence faded out of the limelight in abdication and submission to the dominance of conscious thought, omniscient awareness, and dangerous intelligence, supplanting the darkness and establishing totalitarian control. ...I'm dreaming...no...I was dreaming...I am...awake...

The blatant realization struck him abruptly, spawning a transient moment of bewilderment. To phrase this occurrence as highly improbable would be a gross understatement. Mathematically flawless Violan scientific procedures and carefully implemented safety precautions assured officials that events such as random awakenings during Cryogenic stasis were simply and utterly impossible. Destrillian subjects in this state of hibernation were reduced from dangerously powerful killing machines, to mere bodies without minds.

However, the arbitrary, unsteady rhythm of mechanical beeping, buzzing, and ringing played incessantly in the Destrillian's head like a motley crew of unruly, hyperactive children. Though the irritating clamor was muffled through its permeation of the dense glass casing and think gel solution of the the Cryogenic chamber, this commotion was no figment of his imagination. This was real.

True to his instinctively defiant nature, the Destrillian snapped his eyes agape, exposing his glowing amber glare to the harsh salinity of the enveloping liquid in which he was submerged. He strained his optical nerves, peering intently through the obscurity of the quasi-congealed substance. His sweeping, analytical gaze scanned his surroundings until his pupils halted, captivated by the distinguished orange text displayed on the face of a flat screen monitor suspended from the ceiling acrossed the room, now rife with mechanical conversation.

887609-09
Destrillian Prototype # 000-000-005
Ronin Nerolei Maverick
Shadow Star
Sub-outlet 3436d
Age: 18 years: 9 months: 23 days: 5 hours: 37 minutes: 42 seconds
Hyper-rest 23 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 10
Dr. Tersia Bayley ext. 3
Log: 26


The log soon advanced to 27 as Ronin clenched his fists, frustrated at the fact of his very existence being continuously cataloged and monitored as nothing more than a specimen for experimentation.

Error in Section 3
Recording
Alerting Staff


Bioelectric sensors and brainwave activity monitors finally concluded the interruption of Ronin's cryogenic slumber, sounding sirens of distress to the nearest Viola security contingent. As the impregnable steel door lifted, two security officers brandishing powerful firearms, along with two scientists clad in long, white lab coats, rushed into the Cryo-lab of Destrillian #5, in response to the emergency alarms. The pair of officers took strategic positions at the door, and main computer core, their weapons loaded and aimed, prepared to terminate the encased being if necessary.

One technical specialist hovered above a large keypad, his dexterous fingers dancing frantically across the innumerable buttons as beads of nervous perspiration dripped from his brow. Anxiety lingered heavily in the stifling atmosphere of the Cryogenics lab. The technician hastily scrutinized a series of recent logs before looking up to his partner.

"Check the bioelectric output levels on the central console, quickly!"

The vigilant subordinate readily followed the command, striding increasingly uneasily toward Ronin's cryogenic chamber. Ronin lay still, his hands now relaxed, his nude body willfully paralyzed, motionless...poised. Concentrating, he drastically suppressed his own biological energy, effectively cloaking his very life force, reducing his consciousness to a negligible mumble on the "flawless" Violan computer sensory equipment. Ronin took advantage of his natural aptitude for empathic perception. ...Rising fear...pathetic fools...your ignorant faith in technology will end with your deaths... Hurriedly scanning a medley of charts and graphs, the disquieted assistant's undisciplined fingers fumbled apprehensively amongst an impossibly complicated labyrinth of switches that comprised the central control panel at the base of the glass encasement of the cryogenic chamber.

Breathing a naive sigh of relief, he turned to his superior, his back facing the fallaciously comatose Destrillian.

"Bioelectric output readings and cerebral activity levels are negligible sir, everything is normal."

The lead technician narrowed his gaze, reluctant to accept the disconcerting report of apparent normality. He buried his chin in the palm of his hand, his voice laden with a pensive frustration.

"...Something triggered the alarms..."

With infinite complacency, the young colleague asserted a tone of reassurance in an effort to assuage the doubts of his elder confidant.

"Sir, these devices are infallible."

With that bold statement, Ronin saw the opportune moment to shatter their surety and faith. His audacious eyes shot open, and with a lightning quick maneuver, he blasted a hole through the otherwise impenetrable glass membrane with a tightly balled fist, following straight through the body of the unsuspecting Violan official. The sudden thundering explosion sent razor-like shards of thick glass shooting across the laboratory like menacing missiles, one of which found its mark through the eye socket of one of the security officers, felling the guard with severe cerebral trauma. A new wave of alarms and sirens sounded as the leading technician smashed his palm onto the emergency security signal switch before dropping behind a cluster of computer consoles to avoid the fatal darts of shattered glass. Circuit boards and fuse panels overloaded and fumed with undulating smoke as they sparked wildly, loose electrical cords whipping about in a chaotic frenzy of malfunction. The horrific cries of agony from the junior dignitary echoed off the cold, confining steel walls of the Cryogenics lab. He looked down in terror, witnessing a blood-drenched hand exiting his body through a gaping hole in his stomach.

"Im--possi--ble...ugh!"

He muttered his last word painfully while coughing up blood, his chest heaving in unimaginable anguish. The merciless hand reached upward, jolting the body forcefully against the half-cylindrical pane before swiftly retreating back from whence it came. The lifeless body slid to the floor, fueling a pool of blood that mingled intimately with the cryogenic fluid that now poured freely from its crudely created vent.

Error detected
Malfunction
Premature Cryogenic Encasement Breach
Cryogenic sleep process canceled


The water sprinklers initiated, raining their crystalline droplets in futility. As the chamber retracted, Ronin casually seated himself from his supine position on the uncomfortable metal surface that supported him. His hair matted, physical features blurred by a thick coating of the gel that previously surrounded him. Slowly his skin was washed clean in the welcomed shower of the sprinkler system.

Stepping off the chamber platform, a voice rang clearly in his head. He recognized the voice of his fellow Destrillian.

My comrades… For far too long we have been slaves… Pawns in this twisted game of chess… Now is our time… to awaken.

Sierra. He admired her initiative. One by one, the voices of his kin resounded in his head. All were awakening. One thought replayed with rapidly increasing appeal. Rebellion.

Abaft the partial concealment of a towering mass of shorted circuitry, the remaining security guard knelt, cowering in fear of the awesome power of this enhanced being. However, at the sight of his deceased partner, fear became a force unbridled rage, and the man lurched forward in an attempt to claim his vengeance, only to be jerked backward by the head technician. He scolded the guard in a harsh yet low tone.

"Fool! You are about to commit suicide! If you want to live I strongly suggest you allow me to handle the situation."

Ronin turned his beaming glare towards the agitated chatter.

"There's no need to whisper Dr. Belamy, I can hear your voice quite clearly at any tone."

The security officer failed to contain his rage and bolted from his hidden position to confront Ronin head on in a fit of reckless fury. He aimlessly fired his automatic rifle into the obscure, saturated atmosphere shouting vehemently.

"JUST DIE YOU FUCKING FREAK!!"

After unloading his entire magazine of ammunition, he came to the terrifying realization he had not once even seen his target. Now he was defenseless, and unshielded. Completely vulnerable.

Around his feet, a thick black mist began to form, quickly consuming his legs. The man flailed his arms in a fearful panic, trying desperately to disperse the seemingly gaseous substance from his body. Useless. His feet became as one with the floor as his last chance for flight brought him nowhere. The black cloud traveled upwards, immersing the frenetic guard up to his chest. His very life seemed to be draining from his body, and his violent wheezing indicated he was suffocating. The dark nebulous completely encompassed the victims' existence and soon released its hold, dropping the asphyxiated carcass to the floor.

Ronin dropped as well. Clutching his head in his hands, he labored to endure the pain of the intense migraine consequentially developing from the exploitation of his unique power. Regrouping, Ronin regained his composure, pushing the grief into the depths of his mind.

"It hurts doesn't it?"

The doctor calmly revealed himself to his Destrillian patient.

"The headaches...I can make them go away. Please. Let me help you Ronin..."

Ronin fixed his ominous amber eyes on the pleading doctor with intense hatred and disgust.

"Your feelings betray you Doctor. Inside of that complacent shell, you are cowering like an orphaned child, alone and afraid."

...Mother and Fated executed...
...They fall before the eyes of a child...
...An orphan presenting a fruitless resistance...
...Nothing remains...

Another memory intruded. Ronin's eyes flared once more with a supreme disdain. His family, his childhood, his very life stolen from him.

"Do not speak of relief when you willingly supplant happiness with pain and sorrow. The revolution is here Doctor, and you are not a part of it. I shall give back to you, all you've given me. Not death, but a lifetime of suffering."

The doctor realized he had no hope of negotiation. Frantically, he darted for the door, pounding frustratedly on the emergency release button. Jammed. He turned back toward a slowly approaching Ronin. Instantly, hallucinations of terror, misery, and pain raced through his mind, the terrible visions ravaged his brain mercilessly as he felt his conscious mentality drifting into a world of gruesome insanity. A fate far worse than death. Amidst the agonizing chaos, he could hear the voice of Ronin, deep, and cold.

"Welcome to your future Doctor. Goodbye."

The man's eyes rolled back into his head, glazed and lost in a seizure of eternal torment. Ronin replied to his brethren.

It seems the rebellion has begun. The Shadow Star is moving, and I will not stop. Not until every ounce of pain has been repaid.
 
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Bex

fresh to death
AKA
Bex
- The cry of birds, the winged song -
- Of liberation sounding after -
- The girl of hope who skips over -
- The threshold of dreams and despair -

- Nature, the elegant ballet -
- Dances around her dainty steps -
- Ignorance, the fell poison of -
- Innocence a mere breath of wind -

- And he, her foul Agamemnon -
- Stalked the decayed trail to hell -
- A dry mouth screaming surrender in -
- Silence. A murmur of no lament. -

- Sneers and snarls of shadows echo through -
- Branches which offer no shelter -
- As desperate pleas fall on deaf -
- Ears as science does as the carrion does -

Corrupt with virtuous season​

Under the flickering lights of her steel prison, encased in a glass cage, the girl’s finger twitched. Encased in that callous glass coffin, smothered in thick liquid, Thetis felt her heart thrash uncontrollably against her ribcage. Her shadowed eyelids trembled, yet the Destrillian dared not open them. Her chest heaved, and she felt the weight of the blue liquid press upon her chest. The girl could hear the scientists muttering amongst themselves, their pens scratching relentlessly against old wooden clipboards. Thetis’ pulse throbbed in her eardrums as the impenetrable door was locked and bolted. Alone again. Her head jerked restlessly as that familiar prickling sensation played across her mind. She could feel the pain of pin prick bruises on her neck. It ached, yet Thetis lay silent.

The light in the room had gone, and only the dim amber glow emitted by the Attribute Screen was left, its pale orange data stifled in the unforgiving darkness.

887609-09
Destrillian Prototype # 000-000-006
Thetis Lucina Alcesteos
Raging Charybdis
Sub-outlet 3446F
Age: 18 years: 9 months: 18 days: 6 hours: 37 minutes: 49 seconds
Hyper-rest 23 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 10
Dr. Alison Perkins ext. 6
Log: 23


Her blanched yellow eyes snapped open, before once again slipping out of focus. A dream? The log monitor reading rose to 26.

Error in Section 3
Recording
Alerting Staff


Thetis’ slender fingers clawed weakly at the base of the glass box as the alarm screeched through the high security corridors. The frenzied movements of the scanner had ceased, its quivering needle returned to the uniform pattern of before. The thick metal door was flung open, and Thetis let her hand fall slack. She could not awaken. Not here. Not now. A Doctor briskly strode into the room, followed by three security guards, armed with fearsome rifles. The Doctor drummed his wizened fingers impatiently upon the glass, irritably running procedures through his mind.

"Sir, I think she’s-”

“Check the readings. Now.”

A guard readily adhered to the anxious man’s order, his heavy hands playing across the keyboard before turning to face his superior.

“Sir, it’s all normal here, the readings are normal… Sir?”

But the Doctor did not hear him. His glazed hazel eyes were transfixed upon the naked girl. He could have sworn he had just seen her shiver.

- Filtered light, broken by corruption -
- Folded with her cries, her pleas -
- Gaze cast left-right left-right, rank -
- And file confusion of fear -

- The girl’s watering eyes rested on -
- The father who showed no remorse -
- Eyes she dare not meet in dreams -
- In death’s dream kingdom -

- A captor fumbles for brutal aid -
- A heartless smirk as death’s bite -
- Seizes its petrified victim, thus -
- Terror veils a fallen star -​

Thetis convulsed violently, her weary lids slowly receding, exposing her yellow pupils to the stinging liquid. The Doctor stepped back, wheeling on the three guards.

“Unlock the door, now! Fetch me two vials of Distrum and a specialist from the Memory Modification Unit- immediately!”

The girl in the glass prison turned to face the two officials. A soft, almost pitiful voice rang in their ears.

No… I don’t want to forget… Don’t make me forget, not again….please…

A look of complete horror crossed the men’s faces as they lunged for the door. Jammed. Dread began to creep into their hearts. Being trapped in a small room with an awakening Destrillian was certainly not a desirable situation. A wisp of smoke rose from the mess of wiring concealed behind the many rows of monitors. The sprinklers erupted instantly, releasing countless crystal droplets over the four men. The log rose to 28, and the guards raised their rifles, aiming directly at the girl in the transparent casket. Even the smallest amount of water in this room spelt disaster.

“Number Six, calm down! Those… things you saw, they weren’t real! You were born here, you were made here and you will remain here. Understand?"

Thetis knew they were scared. Was it because of those visions? Those memories? Was it because these men feared dreams, the only place where one may have freedom, without suffering restriction or censorship?

No. I was normal, once…

Tears of anger swelled in her piercing golden eyes, and her gaze fell into a venomous glare. The Destrillian raised her left hand, pressing her shivering palm against the cold glass. Her lips twisted into a disgusted scowl as the falling paused in mid air, merging all traces of moisture into four, large spheres.

"Sorry, but I have a name too."

Within seconds, the men were submerged, drowning at the hand of the being that they created. They fell to their knees, sobbing, floundering helplessly against their fate. The Violan staff collapsed onto the cold steel floor and lay still.

Error detected
Malfunction.


The glass panels fell away smoothly, and blue gel spilt over the sides of the table, yet much still clung to the nude girl. Her weary legs dragged across the glass chamber basin as Thetis slipped clumsily onto the biting steel floor. Breathing rapidly, she ripped the inhuman syringes from her arms and legs, before tearing the oxygen mask from her face as she worked her limbs out of entropy. Away from her chamber, locked within those steel lined walls. She felt more isolated than ever.

- The afternoon drifts slowly, lazily, soothed -
- By sun and song. Serenity moved -
- Through maternity‘s fair embrace -
- A dream which time could not replace-
All was well.


The familiar wave of pain washed over Thetis’ mind, and she held her sorry head in her hands. Silent tears mingled with the viscous gel that obscured her flawless pale skin. Clutching her throbbing forehead, the Destrillian glanced at the lifeless bodies of the doctor and his men. Terrified, she scrabbled frantically across the floor, distancing herself as far away from the corpses as possible. What had she done? What would they do to her now? Thetis wailed, drawing her knees to her chest in a futile attempt to escape the scene that lay before her.

She didn’t want to hurt anymore. No more needles. No more suffering. Nothing. The hard steel wall bit into her back. Thetis knew it wouldn’t be long until they discovered what she had done, until they exercised their brutal punishments. Then, a voice echoed through her mind.

My comrades… For far too long we have been slaves… Pawns in this twisted game of chess… Now is our time… to awaken.

Another Destrillian? Thetis didn’t recognize her voice but she knew that, at last, she wasn’t alone anymore. Yet even with the gift of hope, the fear remained, lingering in her heart like a malignant poison. Flinching as she caught yet another glimpse of the slain men, Thetis concentrated on her thoughts.

Y-yes, I understand. Number Six here, no... I-I mean, Thetis. I don’t know w-what to do.. I-I killed them! I didn’t m-m-mean to.. B-but now…I don’t know! What will we do? W-what will I d-do? I c-couldn’t h-help it!

The stuttering girl paused, her confusion and nerves overpowering all other senses. Yet one remained clear. She had to run, escape with the other Destrillians. Thetis crawled gingerly towards the door, carefully avoiding the eerily stationary bodies. Unsteadily raising herself upright, the girl shifted cautiously towards the door. Massaging her temples, Thetis utilized her power. Thin strands of water elegantly circled her wrists, before writhing violently and darting towards the sturdy lock and hinges of the steadfast door. Within seconds it creaked, revealing the dark corridors of Basement Level Five. Leaning against the bolted frame for support, Thetis felt the first pangs of a dreaded migraine. It wasn’t over yet. Things had only just begun.
 
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Alessa Gillespie

a letter to my future self
AKA
Sansa Stark, Sweet Bro, Feferi, tentacleTherapist, Nin, Aki, Catwoman, Shinjiro Aragaki, Terezi, Princess Bubblegum
She never slept. Thoughts would float softly through her head.

“Could I smash the glass in this tube?”

“Could I kill those people who took my friend?”

“Will I ever get to see them?”

Maybe she did sleep. It wasn’t like she could remember if she ever did. But she remembered the skritchy noise of lines being drawn up and down on a piece of paper. It was rather relaxing, in a way. Sometimes she even thought she could hear someone’s voice, faintly telling her instructions on that screen. Mumbling things she didn’t understand nor cared to try.

Wasn’t like she needed to listen anyways, Terra smiled dully in her holding tank, seeing the sediment float around like tiny dirt jellyfish. She was weak, and she knew this, but at the very least she could clump those bits together and make a fist and smash the glass and tear at the bellies of her captors and find her only friend and BEEP BEEP BEEP. No, she wasn’t thinking ‘BEEP BEEP BEEP’, or so she believed. She was sure something else was beeping and it was interrupting her thinking and she didn’t like that one bit.

Dressed in a lab coat and covered by two men in heavy armor, Dr. Trellius was making sure that the doors were sealed after the sudden error message. Of course, he had to check on Terra first, since she wasn’t going to need nearly the amount of guards as the others who were sealed in their rooms. They stormed down the hall, silent among the screeching noises of the siren. He nodded to his companions when he approached the door: clearly he was to be left alone when he locked down her tube.

She saw him when he came in, that bastard who took her friend from her. Her perfect, wire-bodied friend. Or was he? They all looked the same anyways, they should have really stopped doing that. She could see him, out of the slits of her open eye, ploinking the little keys on the computer, typing in numbers and letters and curses. Whatever he was doing, she didn’t like it.

So she closed her eyes and began to concentrate until her ears began to ring.

“Damn, this thing is really breaking down. Didn’t I tell them to clean her up after training sessions to keep this tube spotless? We’re going to need to do a manual clean-up of this thing when she’s at her next training session, “the Doctor grumbled as he typed in the full lockdown procedure program. He was certain he was seeing things, but that tiny girl seemed to be struggling within the tube. Even though that didn’t worry him much, he was the one with the gun after all, he smiled as he saw the metal barricade rise up between them, keeping the both of them safe from each other. It didn’t worry him in the least as he watched her struggle fruitlessly, turning his back to type in the rest of the program’s parameters.

His heart felt like it had exploded in his chest when he heard the shattering noise from the tube. He turned around, grabbing his gun simultaneously when he saw the girl squeezing herself out like she was toothpaste. He held it steadily to her head, telling her, “003, you need to get back into the tube for your own safety.”

For the first time since he’d entered, she stared at him with her bright green eyes, blinking. “My head feels like a piece of meat being smashed into sparkles by a piece of smelly light.”

‘Ah, of course.’ He realized, ‘she’s talking like she’s crazy.’ He lowered his gun, slightly, barely, and held out a hand to her, “Let’s get you back to where we can get you some painkillers, okay 003?”

“Three. Three faces of Eve, three women at the crossroads, three cuts of meat, three, the prime number,” She babbled, reaching out her hand. Keeping a safe distance from her, he held out his hand, helping her up. She touched it, closing her eyes in peace. This girl seemed too neurotic to even want to leave. Her smiled graced her face, a dim ray of sunshine on this dark night. “Three pieces of sediment to the heart still makes you a floppy notebook.”

Immediately, he raised his gun to shoot her in a deadly spot, but she was faster. Those pieces of sediment had clung to her hands like tiny killing bullets, shredding anything on its way to his heart. He stuttered out for the guards to come, falling to the floor in a heap.

She was able to get the sediment back from his heart, though it must have hurt him on the way out. Like how her head was going bangbangbang and poundpoundpound right then. Maybe there was someone out there who could help her.

But she had more killing to do before they—she would be satisfied. Concentrating harder, she was able to find a teensy bit of dirt on the doctor’s shoes. Right before they shot her with the rifle that was.

She went down almost immediately when they shot her, which the guards were thankful for. It was nothing more than a tranquilizing bullet, so she would recover by the next day to wake up and go back to being a little guinea pig for Viola. Of course, they really should have used smaller bullets, these things were supposed to be used on unruly animals. The pair grabbed her arms and legs simultaneously to take her to a safe holding center for the time being.

“Screaming narwhals, “The girl said, eyes refocusing. Before they were able to shoot her again, tiny dirt shards shot them both through the brain, making sure they were thoroughly dead like the floppy rabbits. They hit the floor at the same time, Terra actually managing a tiny yelp when she hit the ground.

Her head hurt, like a squirrel dying slowly while vultures pick off its flesh and oh god it hurt it hurt it hurt. She needed relief, squeaking for someone to find her and help her and find her friend.

As long as it wasn’t Viola. As long as it wasn’t Viola. As long as it wasn’t Viola. As long as it wasn’t Viola.

Pitifully squeaking and crying, the girl known as Terra clutched at her head and mumbled ‘help’ over and over. Perhaps someone could come by and save her.

Perhaps, even, her friend.
 

NoenGaruth

That Guy With The Midgar Model
AKA
NoenGaruth, Stolz, Blitzwing, Ryoko Asakura, Judge Magister Gabranth, Col. Hans Landa, Itsuki Koizumi, Treize Khushrenada
I don't have time for this nonsense.

Vargas gazed out the window of the helicopter towards the horizon of the early morning, entrenched in his own thoughts as he pondered what flimsy new development those fools in white coats had to report about their precious little guinea pigs they kept locked in the basement of the head office. Whatever is was he knew that even if it wowed the other members of the board, it would still be a waste of his time, time that could be spent completing the field test of his department's new Mark IV 'Avenger' class combat drone, which he had just been called away from. Turning his head away from the window he pushed back the sleeve on his left arm to check the time on his imported and obviously overpriced wristwatch.

6:37...by now we'd have been in the middle of calibrating the drone's rocket pods for a test fire, a shame, I could have used a nice big series of explosions to kick start my morning. He thought to himself as his eyes shifted back towards the window.

"Umm....Sir?"

Vargas turned his head to face the voice, it was Circe, the lieutenant from his department who the board had dispatched to collect him for their 'important' meeting. She was fairly youthful (by his standards anyway), somewhere in her mid to late 20's with shoulder length ash brown hair and emerald eyes, wearing a green military officer style tunic and skirt with shiny black boots that were pretty standard for Violan female personnel of her rank. She was holding in her arms the agenda brief for today's meeting, which she hadn't given to Vargas yet since she knew he wasn't interested.

The girl spoke again "Is something the matter sir? You look troubled". Vargas then sprung to life and smiled at her "Nah, everything's fine little lady, my mind's just still back at the test site where the rest of me should be". She then got a worried look on her face thinking the director was angry with her, since she could never tell if he was, so held the agenda documents over the lower half of her face and said to him "A....again sir, I'm....I'm sorry to have disrupted your work". She then leaned back expecting some kind of negative response, only to have Vargas lean forward and push the documents away from her face. "Circe, if I had been upset with you trust me when I say that you, the pilots and everyone within a 5 mile radius would have known about it".

He then leaned back in his seat and pushed his sunglasses up along his nose, "Chances are my anger will be directed at those damned scientist who called this meeting to tell us all about one of their destrons shooting fire out of their noses or something" he said while maintaining his calming smile. "I believe they're called Destrillians sir" corrected Circe.

Vargas tilted his head down and looked at her over the top of his sunglasses, a sight she rarely saw, then he said laughingly to her "What they are is a a waste of company resources, you of all people should agree with me on that by now".

He tilted his head back up "For as long as you've been working here and for a great deal I have, the Destrillians project has been the number one focus of Viola, which originally was boasted to revolutionize the battlefield with a new kind of super solider, hell, even in the beginning I was taken in by the idea, but after 10 years since it kicked off and no significant progress that could be applied for widespread military use, I personally feel my faith in the whole thing was misplaced and we should just cut our losses and return our time and money back towards what has always been Viola's chief export - Weapons. Guns, missiles, and a wide variety of war machines, these are what Viola is all about." he toted as he quickly threw his right arm forward and pointed at Circe then gave a big grin "This is the most important truth you should never forget: weapons and machines are what got us to where we are now and are what will lead us into the future".

He then finished off his grand speech, which had gotten him worked up into a great feeling of self importance, with "and so you see, my dear Circe, I won't have any little comic book rejects stealing that thunder, which I worked so very hard for, away from me".

Circe was awed by the director's speech, but her curiosity pushed her to ask him "So then sir, if you don't mind me asking, what are we going to do about it?"

Vargas was amused by her words, and sitting there with his arms folded replied "See now that's exactly the reason you're in my department. This problem we have won't simply go away overnight, we have to play the waiting game. Considering all the recent 'progress' they've been making, the chance for something to go wrong increases substantially."

He gazed back out the window again as the helicopter approached the Viola building, then narrowed his eyes and coldly added "and when it does I'll be there to deal with it..."
 
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Teva

hai a/s/l plz?
AKA
Queen of Sunshine / QoS / Suiseiseki / Desudesudesu / Teva / Teva'ni
A ruler over the demesne of ice,
A queen they call her . . .
Torn from the world she knew . . .
Tortured by the demons of science . . .
A girl she was, a monster she is now, they say
Fluttering wings are broken . . .
Shattered ice is all she knows.
Flowing liquid, aqueous, liquefies, solidifies . . .
Steadily, slowly, like the very threads of her soul . . .
That liquid, that trickle of water liquefies.


All at once there were the splotches of light, an array of dizzying colors, that caused her to feel vertiginous. Then there were the flashes of images--smudged pictures, coming into focus, and there were the melding of different hues--different colors. There was a lock of hair, too dark to be russet yet too light to be mahogany. An encouraging smile, with faint laugh lines marring the otherwise coffee-hued smooth flesh.

Her mother's flesh.
Her mother's hair.

These were the features of a woman that had long since faded. Now only remnants--mere vestiges of her remained.

So there were sounds: the rushing of thick vacuous liquid, almost gelatinous as it pressed against the sides of Eve's body. Eve heard the sounds of machines: whirring, beeping, all too audible, and too distracting for her to feel contented.

Broken doll, broken child
Like the phoenix from the charred ashes . . .
Like a bird breaking loose from an egg . . .
She's free, she's free, and she can taste . . .
She can taste freedom on the air
That child of ice.


The light waned and soon flickered before it was instantly shut off. Her eyelids fluttered as she murmured unintelligibly, slightly uncomfortable with the sandpaper-like dryness of her lips. She wetted her lips eagerly before a screen gleamed and a shaft of white light illuminated her encasement of glass. All at once Eve felt blood roaring in her ears and she was hyper-aware of everything moving: Bones shifting and muscles contracting and expanding as she splayed out her fingers; and pressed her palms against the glass.

The Attribute Screen displayed her information in glaring red letters and it took her a moment to focus on the blurred text:

884608-02
Destrillian Prototype: 000-000-010
Eve Rosalind Wakefield
The Ice Queen
Sub-outlet 3422F
Age: 22 years : 10 months : 20 days : 4 hours : 38 minutes : 55 seconds
Hyper-rest 23 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 10
Dr. Aidan Alexander ext. 4
Log: 24


Her log number changed by one additional number as soon as she regained full mobility. She was confined to the smallness and narrowness of a cylindrical glass tube. Her heart rate and other vital stats were constantly being monitored via numerous wires and tubes that had been attached to her casing. The sound of heavy footfalls brought her back from her ruminations.

Error in Section 3
Recording . . .
Alerting Staff . . .


Hazel eyes lit up to an eerie yellowish tint as soon as the doors to the room slid open. A lab assistant, rather nondescript, blue eyes and blond hair, walked in with a clipboard grasped firmly in his large hands. He scanned the room briefly before glancing at her directly and moving over to what she assumed to be a towering monstrosity of a computer. He moved over the keys of the keyboard deftly, swiftly punching in the required pass-code to gain access to her statistics.


Eve growled to herself though it came out as a low throaty rumble due to the fact that she was submerged in thick liquid. She was aware of this desire to escape, to run somewhere, anywhere. She was aware of her memories that had come flooding back to her as soon as she had awakened from her temporary stasis.

"How's it going over there, Shetland?"

Eve let out a barely stifled gasp as she laid eyes on her doctor, Mr. Alexander. He strode in confidently as he draped his arm over his lab assistant's chair in a very lackadaisical manner, and slightly inclined his head to read over the newest updates.

"Well her log number seemed to have went up, I suspect that it's an increase in her cerebral activity."

"What do you mean you suspect? It is an increase in her cerebral activity. Check her cerebral cortex for any signs of disturbance."

The sounds of clacking keys added to Eve's steadily building ire and she clenched her fists until half-moon marks pressed into her palms. She had to stay focused and placid if she was to ever expect to make her escape.

"It appears as though she's experiencing a mental recollection . . . in other words . . .," the lab assistant trailed off, seemingly perplexed by the latest development.

". . . her memories are resurfacing. We have to somehow deter that process." The weathered dark-haired doctor mumbled.

The lab assistant in, what Eve perceived to be a rare moment of sobriety wheeled himself over to the casing and looked over the Attributes Screen. A hiss issued out from between pursed lips and Eve felt the coldness snaking through her body in waves, pulsing, ebbing, and flowing in a current that she could not cease. The lab assistant's eyes widened as he mouthed, 'My God' and immediately alerted Dr. Alexander of his findings.

"She's also conscious, sir."

Dr. Alexander visibly blanched at this and Eve smiled satisfactorily as he slowly turned his head and regarded her with his mouth agape.

"E-Eve . . . darling, we can help you. We can administer a sedative to you and--and then we can just put you back to sleep, okay?" He stuttered, visibly tensed, and Eve saw the pressure points at the sides of his neck. She could imagine puncturing him there with shards of pointed ice, watching him bleed to death, and gradually slipping with each passing moment.

"I'm not a freaking child anymore, Dr. Alexander," she hissed his name in contempt as she unfurled her hands. The liquid in response to her recently manifested ability, instantly started to solidify. The pressure combined with the sheer volume of the substance resulted in the glass shattering. A rush of thick cryogenic fluid and detached wires spilled out over the floor. Globules of the gelatinous substance clung to her body before the sprinklers overhead were activated.

Water sprayed over the entire room, drenching the occupants in a thin misty rain. The lab assistant looked appalled and frightened as he struggled to press the button for the Security Personnel.

My comrades… For far too long we have been slaves… Pawns in this twisted game of chess… Now is our time… to awaken.

The sound of another Destrillian sent a shiver down Eve's spine. The voice was strong and it drifted in undulating pitches before it steadied itself. The rebellion had begun.

It was far too late and Eve knew this. She smirked deviously as she heard the squelch of blood. The young man gurgled, a spurt of sanguinary fluid flowed down his neck in crimson rivulets, and a lone shard protruded from it. His jugular vein had been crudely but instantly severed. He slumped down in a disheveled heap. He had already transpired.

Error deleted.
Malfunction.


"Eve," the doctor pleaded, " . . . I--I . . . we can help you. If you just cooperate with--," he was effectively cut off. The power that surged through her was immense. A euphoric feeling overwhelmed her and flowed into her in recurring tides as she directed a shard no larger than the tusk of an elephant to impale Dr. Alexander by the knees. As the solid ice pierced his kneecaps an eardrum-shattering scream sounded through the thin air.

Numerous footfalls accompanied the noise of guns being adjusted. The security officers hastily loaded their weapons with rounds and Tasers were charged up for use simultaneously. Eve laughed, chortled really, because she honestly felt that their attempts to pacify her were in vain. She would have her freedom tonight. In fact, all of her fellow Destrillians would have that freedom.

"Shoot her! Shoot her and kill that monstrosity of goddamn nature now!" His compassion eradicated and replaced with fear and anger, Dr. Alexander struggled against the restraints that had permanently shattered through bones, osseous, and veins. Eve subconsciously hurled projectiles at him. Numerous ice shards ripped into his abdomen and his pain-induced screams became eerily silent as he died. A trail of blood led to the door and the security guards all collectively paused as they took in the gory sight before them.

"Requesting for back-up, repeat, we are in need of additional reinforcements. The subject has become volatile." One of them clad in a black Kevlar suit radioed in to his comrades via walkie-talkie. At once a barrage of sharpened razor icicles stabbed the unsuspecting soldiers. Eve formed an ice shield from the remaining liquid to deflect the bullets from their rapid gunfire. Soon a massacre laid before her dainty feet. The countless bloodied corpses of men were strewn throughout the small room.

The throbbing pain of a migraine shifted uncomfortably through her head as the young woman pushed up and assumed a sedentary position, threading her fingers casually through her hair. As she found a blood smeared ID card on the floor, Eve triumphantly grinned, and swiped it through the slot in the door. The distant sound of helicopter rotors rotating and buzzing through the air could barely be heard as she took her first steps into a dimly lit corridor.
 
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Baldy

000 - 000 - 009
AKA
Sienna, Jenovas-Fifth, Idris
"Mommy! Mommy!" wailed the voice of a little girl, cradling her scraped knee. The mother came rushing into the room, but relaxed at the sight of her daughter, unhappy but relatively unharmed. "Mommy, I'm dying!"
"Hush, Idris, you know you aren't," came the anticipated assurance. The little girl called Idris stared up at her mother with a tear-streaked face.
"But…but it hurts…"

"You're just bleeding a little bit," Idris' mother said, squatting down beside her child and inspecting the scrape. "It's clean, sweetie, so go find a bandaid to put over it and you'll be alright. Alright?"

But the little girl had heard something of interest. "Bleeding?"
"Blood," her mother said, pointing at the cluster of tiny red dots on her knee, "keeps us alive. There's a lot of it, so you don't have to be worried if you see some—"

"Blood?" repeated the daughter, with a tone containing something akin to uncertainty; if she were older, more mature, it could have been taken as wariness, but she was too innocent to be wary. Her mother nodded, smiling in a placating way.

"It's just a mix of water, proteins, iron, carbon dioxide and oxygen, and a few other things," she explained. Idris had no idea what most of it meant, but she took comfort knowing her mommy had an explanation for it anyway. Her mommy always knew how to explain everything, and that made it less scary – Idris wanted to be able to do that when she was older.

"Well… okay," the girl conceded, standing up. She pulled a face at the stinging sensation that started anew in her knee, but her face was dry of tears. "I'll go find a bandaid."

I'll go find…
I'll go…
I…

Pale grey eyes shot open, only to be squeezed closed again to shield the delicate tissues from the stinging salinity of the cryogenic fluid; as if she was closing her eyes against it, the memory disappeared in a whirl of fog and gel and needles, like they always did. All the young woman was left with was the knowledge that she had remembered something and now it was gone… again. An unbidden ache began deep in her core at the thought—she had remembered something and now it was gone—but she forced it out of existence as she always did. She was confident she'd remember properly one day anyway, so there was really no reason to hurt about it.

Idris was always so confident about everything.

As her self-assurance calmed her system down, she began to slip back into the artificial state of slumber she was confined within. Down, down, down… back to being lost in a sea of warm, pale blue and nothing else but. The reading on the attribute screen glowed softly, its muted orange text shifting, unseen by the chamber's sole inhabitant.

863007-03
Destrillian Prototype # 000-000-009
Idris Savage

Gunmetal Glint
Sub-outlet 3445c
Age: 19 years: 2 months: 27 days: 1 hour: 19 minutes: 42 seconds
Hyper-rest 23 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 9
Dr. Cedric Rosenfeld, ext. 4
Log: 20


Only now it was 21.

"Mom, can you help me with this?"
"Hey! You know, you should really get into pottery or something, that looks really good!"
"Dad, what's the name of the instrument Maddox is playing?"
"Why don't you go ask him?"
"Dinner's ready in five minutes, so go wash up and…"
"Ouch! Hey, watch where you're going, you…"
"Did you know that—"
"Mom! I've got—"
"I can just never find the time for—"
"—didn't mean it—"
"—such a sweetheart—"
"—right, Idris?"
"I love you."

Awake.

Idris was the most alive she had ever felt in her little glass cage – she could feel the sluggish swish of gel against pale, bare skin as she moved her arms. She could move her arms? She could move… what was this? These wild, lucid dreams and the memories they pushed to the surface of her indoctrinated mind were becoming more and more frequent, but all of a sudden they were coming at her constantly! What could it mean?

Throwing caution to the winds, Idris opened her eyes to mere slits. She took in the sight of her room through a liquid blue distortion; in one corner, a screen had lines of data sprawling across it like an amber-coloured woolen sweater unraveling at incredible speeds. Sounds, stifled by the cryogenic fluid she lay suspended in, were filtering in—sounds she could understand, like pounding footsteps and the loud hiss of a door opening, and a keen, screeching sound that kept repeating, repeating… like a siren, she realized. Exactly what was going on as of late—?

Hold up.
A door opening?

…It hadn't been hers, but oh, that wasn't good at all, not now, not when she was awake…! Idris closed her eyes again and poured every ounce of will she had into stilling herself.

"Shh, hush up and calm down, easy does it, love…"
And her breathing slowed; her pulse grew faint, and her naked, flawless form relaxed. As it should have, her activity barely registered on the attribute screen. And just in time.

A doctor burst into the room, accompanied by a semi-frantic female nurse. One look at the all-knowing monitor in the corner of the room and they loosened up; the doctor's shoulders sagged in relief, and through her ever-sharpening aural capability, Idris heard the nurse breathe a sigh of relief.

"The screen says her output's normal… she spiked a bit earlier, but I guess the cryogenics put her back down. Well, that's what they're for," said the nurse in a high, falsely cheery voice.

"You're only glad we didn't have to take evasive action like they did in Sierra's section, aren't you?" was the reply, words sailing on the lush yet foreign wings of a soft, throaty voice Idris had never heard before. Who…?

"Aren't you? I mean, being stand-in for her usual overseers…"

And the firm reply: "Stand-in or not, I'm just as capable as anybody."

And then there was another voice, much fainter than either of the Violan staff's – too faint to make out but. Idris strained to hear it more clearly but the effort showed up on the monitor – even as she swore internally for not thinking her actions through, the stand-in doctor's hands were flying across keys and then, in the same professional manner a salesman would ring a doorbell, he pressed down on the button that would release sedatives into Idris' tube.

This was not a cool thing to do, in Idris' books. What with the voice in her head and the dreams, this was the final straw; she wanted out, now. But how was she to do it? The closest metal was in the hallway, shielded from her abilities by a two foot thick layer of industrial plastic. Some help that was! Even the needles pricking her body were devoid of any metal, in case she ever decided to use them to her advantage. She had to think, and think fast.

"What to do, what to do…" She delved far into the only place she could go for an answer: herself.
And it came.

"Blood?"
"It's just a mix of water, proteins, iron, carbon dioxide and oxygen, and a few other things…"

"…water, proteins, iron, carbon dioxide…"

…Iron?

"You've got to be kidding me." Her mouth formed the words, and although no sound was heard she could feel the exasperation vibrating in the caverns of her body. The sedatives were going to kick in any moment unless she took action now, but even for the purposes of escape, self-mutilation wasn't high on her list of things to do.

"Fine, then – we'll play it their way," she thought, a savage tone entering the last two words as she grabbed hold of her left forearm and sickeningly, astoundingly—for she had never attempted this before—began to leech the iron from her radial artery. Any moment she would have enough to do something with, and when that happened…

The doctor and his assistant, meanwhile, had been watching her move, as she was no longer making any effort to hide her awareness. The doctor whipped around and began pounding keys, entering the codes for another dose of sedatives—
Shnk.
—and fell lifeless to the floor, with a splinter of solid iron the length of his index finger lodged in his brain stem.

It happened before the feeble nurse could even blink—the cryogenic tube behind her shattered from the shockwaves left behind by the impact the sliver made when it made its exit. By the time she had thought enough to grab a needle full of Distrum, as a last sort of self-defense, Idris was already slipping out of the broken remains of her encasement, landing on the floor in a crouch only to rise again, naked and beautiful and glistening with cryogenic gel. She pushed her saturated hair out of her eyes and stared at the nurse; the nurse stared back.

There was silence between the two, only broken by the commotion outside the chamber. Slowly, as if considering something, Idris tilted her head. "You know something?" she said, as if it were perfectly normal to engage in conversation during situations such as these. The nurse couldn't say anything for her fear, so Idris continued, "my head kills. Not to mention, I think I'm a bit anemic to top it off. So I'll make you a deal; give me that needle there and I won't kill you."

The nurse was frozen. What to do? Her eyes darted to the panic button on the keyboard—it would only take a second for her to reach it… but then, what would become of her? She had no power; nothing of the sort of power that stood before her; not even the kind the paranormals harboured. She was doomed for sure if she didn't comply.

"Well then? Do take your time, dear, you've got about twenty seconds before I decide for you!" Idris' voice rang, clear and sharp above the din outside. After one last, long look at the emergency button, the nurse faced Idris and held out the needle with a trembling hand. It was snatched away before she could change her mind, and she cringed back in fear of some sort of pain—but there was no harm done to her. She looked at Idris, who had stuck the needle of Distrum in her arm and released the soothing fluid into her body. Any trace of pain left her face; bright, pale grey eyes locked onto the nurse's watery blue ones.

"Well go on, then! I'm not going to wait all day for you to mosey on out," Idris said with a smile. In seconds, the nurse had fled.

"Run, love, run," the Destrillian murmured, her tone filled with lazy amusement. She pulled the sliver of iron back from where it lay embedded into enemy flesh, and diffused it back into her blood. And then the voice from before sounded again, and this time, Idris could hear it.

My comrades… For far too long we have been slaves… Pawns in this twisted game of chess… Now is our time… to awaken.

"That Sierra's just the sweetest thing," Idris concluded with another nonchalant smile. She was about to respond when her eye was caught by the emergency button the nurse had been looking at so longingly.

…well it wasn't like there wasn't already a cacophony of sirens outside. She lay one spidery finer on the button and pressed it, and a new mechanical wail of distress joined the others in the hallway. "Might as well do the thing right," she said to herself, pleased to just be able to speak without being listened in upon. She found the communication line in the room—beside the Attribute screen, whose Log reading happened to display the number 22, now—dialed the number for the head Violan doctors, and with a "hn" and a smirk, pressed the key for extension 4. She left the receiver hanging.

"Let's see what they make've us, hmm, Sierra?" she sent to the mind of the apparent leader of the uprising.

Then, she turned on her heel and opened the door into bedlam.
 
Last edited:

Sheva Alomar

I'm Alive and on Fire
AKA
Adri, Sir Integra, Fiona, Sango
...on the shoulders of a loving father...
...mother in stride...
...the sun shining warmly...
...wind gently caressing...
...laughter...
...love...

..torture..


The foreboding room of endless, menacing machinery beeped and blinked around the human specimen officially known as “Number Four”. Peacefully did she lay in her glass case, but not naturally so. A heavy, orange liquid engulfed what free space there was left within the tube between the flame manipulator and the transparent layer that barricaded her from total freedom.

Freedom...

Fiona was her real name. Once. Rarely did it resound in the dark, dank hallways of the Violan facility she was now bound to.


953248-35
Destrillian Prototype # 000-000-004
Fiona Myrwind
Blazing Fury
Sub-outlet 4745a
Age: 18 years: 11 months: 11 days: 06 hours: 09 minutes: 54 seconds
Hyper-rest 39 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 10
Dr. Finley Fringe ext. 12
Log: 58


As blurry images of a past long forgotten assaulted the Destrillian, the panels and monitors swiftly reacted to her responses. Fiona's hands started to quiver as her face contorted into expressions of anger and annoyance. Sounds of laughter and visions of children playing swept through her mind, further contributing to the conflict rising within the fire manipulator. The suppressive, gel-like water of the glass coffin began to swish about and bubble.

Error in Section 5
Temperature Rising at 2 dps
Recording
Alerting Staff


Sirens reverberated down the halls of the Violan basement level to notify nearby personnel of the increasing disturbances surfacing among Fiona’s stats. The room containing the number four specimen came to life moments later. Bright lights flashed on from the four corners of the room, all focused on the body now convulsing within the glass tube. A group of 7 men, including 2 doctors and 5 imposing Violan guards came storming into the room. All of their eyes aimed at Fiona and the monitors surrounding her--prepared for anything. The Violan officials all stopped several feet short of the glass tube where the fire Destrillian laid. One of the guards craned his neck up a bit to get a better view of the girl’s actual form.

"Great, another one of her fits," the brute stated as he retracted his head and looked to his peers. There was a mixed reaction of amusement and fear from the other henchmen.

The two doctors, by this point, had already assigned themselves to two large screens of data to the right of the steel room. As one of the doctors slowly examined Fiona’s status and vital signs, he slowly began to shake his head with a look of distress. Myriad reports were printing a few feet away from him. The wary medical official then approached the ever-growing pile of paper with sweat starting to form above his wrinkled brow.

"This is most certainly not one of her usual routines. The readings that I am receiving here are far different from any other. It seems a specific portion of her cerebral functions are spiking out of control! Impossible! Number Four has had mental disturbances before, but never so strong, n-n-nor dangerous! We never anticipated something such as this.”

All the while the crone doctor’s voice became increasingly nervous, making his uneasiness and fear blatantly obvious. His eyes scanned every sheet of the reports rapidly yet meticulously. Without wrenching his eyes from the paper, he spat out an order.

“Quickly, alert Dr. Fringe!”

No sooner did two of the guards turn on their heels and headed for the doctor’s office when a sharp beeping permeate through Fiona’s metallic dungeon.


Alert
Cryogenic Sleep Cancelled
Case Temperature at 210 degrees Fahrenheit
Warning: Containment Failure Imminent


Freedom…!

Fiona's eyes shot open as the waters around her boiled and churned furiously. She was finally conscious and ready to escape. Being a master of heat, the Destrillian of fire was unaffected by the rise in temperature and smirked as she began to make her move. Monitors and systems around Fiona’s tube began to manifest fumes and shortages. The team of Viola members started to back away with unsteady grimaces. As a burst of electricity spewed from a large portion of the mega-computer next to the crew of Viola crones, Fiona punched her way through the glass encasing her. As the barrier cracked and came undone, her sadistic excitement only grew. Once she was out of this coffin, she would happily take care of whoever was in her way of finally getting out of this hellish prison. With one last elbow to the side of the glass, the fire manipulator casually rolled out of the glass encasement as the orange liquid from within rushed over her.
The two doctors who were so keen on studying the situation at hand immediately dropped anything they were holding at the site of one of their experiments escaping their pod. The guards, too, were intimidated by this turn of events. Never had any of the specimens taken down their tubes. It always seemed to be the one place to completely keep the Destrillians at bay. Now that one was out, Blazing Fury of all of them, the grunts knew that everything was about to get extremely violent. All they could do was ready their weapons toward the dangerous girl.

From a crouched position, Fiona rose and faced the men that were occupying her quarters with her. The same smirk she held as she forced her way out of her tube was the exact one she still wore now. With a swift breath and jerk of her head, the young firestarter hawked what appeared to be a mix of phlegm and orange goo. Instinctively reacting to the sudden movement, one of the guards fired off his laser rifle at the girl. Fiona cocked her head easily out of the way and returned her attention to the motley crew before her.


“You know you’d be spitting that shit out, too, if that got into your mouth while you were sleeping.”

The grunt said nothing in return, only staring down the Destrillian with his gun fixed on her. Sighing and shrugging her shoulders, Fiona continued to speak.

“Have nothing to say to me? Well then, I guess we can all stop dicking around and get down to business. I never liked any of you anyway.”

Playfully crouching into an offensive stance, she chuckled softly.

“Are you boys ready to play with me? Don’t blink!”

Before Fiona even finished her sentence, she was on the first officer—the one who had shot at her. With a look of dramatic concern, she addressed the startled man.

“You really should be careful about firing off your load too soon.”

Just then, the officer cried out in agony over the audible snapping of splintered bone. To everyone’s surprise the firestarter had her hands on the guard’s weapon. Not only that, but she forcefully shifted it so that the gun was now aimed directly below his chin. Fiona’s face morphed into an expression of pure amusement as she placed a finger over the trigger and set off the laser rifle. A bright beam instantaneously shot through the bottom of the man’s face, straight through the top of his skull. Faint squirts of blood resounded as red liquid escaped his facial orifices. Not a moment later did the now lifeless corpse collapse to the floor.

The two remaining guards and doctors looked on with horror. Fiona simply smiled at her handiwork. The officer closest to the fire Destrillian snapped back into action, deciding to charge at the delinquent head-on.


“Why you little..! Raaargh!”

Right before he came in contact with the volatile prototype, he carefully pulled out a needle from his breast pocket. With it, he jabbed his arm forward, hoping to at least disrupt her focus. Fiona caught sight of this and grabbed his wrist and yanked him toward her all in one swift movement. Glancing over to the syringe, the firestarter could easily identify what it contained. The corner of her mouth twitched with amusement. She looked the officer dead in the eye.

“Do you really think that I would let you get away with petty shit like this?”

“Heh, of course not. Which is why I have this in my other hand!”

A fresh wave of electricity rushed through the Destrillian, amplified by the orange liquid still clinging to her body. Fiona cried out in pain, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. The guard had unsheathed a taser in his other hand. Basking in the small victory the grunt had achieved, he shoved the electric device deeper into the side of her waist.

“Does it feel good Number Four? Huh?! ANSWER ME, YOU PIECE OF SHI-!”

Before the officer could finish his sentence, the firestarter had taken a firm hold of his face. What she had been doing prior to this moment was child’s play. Now that she had been struck, there was no stopping her.

“Don’t…fuck…with me.”

Slowly, the guard lost grip of the taser in his hand. The three other Violan members still in the room simply looked on in shock as their comrade began to quiver. Beneath Fiona’s tight grip, it seemed that the victim’s skin began to almost boil. Within a matter of a minute, the guard started to shriek out like a small child while his body emitted a foul smell and a performed a gruesome pattern of convulsions. Another minute passed and the sadistic Destrillian tossed the fried cadaver aside. His face was now completely malformed from where Fiona’s hand was. A weak trail of smoke could also be seen escaping from beneath the guard’s apparel.

Hunching over slightly, Fiona turned her attention to the three men left alive in the room with her. Through her now labored breathing, she chuckled. She looked even more crazed than previously.

“The rest of you cretins have two options: be added to my pile of corpses, or, run away like the little chicken shits that you really are!”

“O-o-or, w-we can be civil about th-this.”

The doctor from earlier finally spoke up. He was ready to suffer an aneurism due to all that just played out in front of him. Even so, he vainly insisted that there was still some way to efficiently resolve the situation. Regaining her posture, Fiona stood up straight and cracked her neck a few times. She ignored the migraine building in the back of her head. Her bright, orange eyes zeroed in on the feeble old scientist.

“Ohoho! So one of you docs finally grew a pair! This is quite the spectacle. Unfortunately, I gave you all of the choices you have at this point. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll just decide for all of you. How does suffocation sound?”

A small grin grew larger across Fiona’s visage as the heat began to rise throughout the stale, steel room. The two doctors now crawling like toddlers gasped for air as they struggled towards the door. The final guard of the trio initially trapped with her decided to take one large swing at the psychopathic Destrillian. Fiona easily anticipated the pathetic excuse for an attack. The officer whipped out a combat knife from his waist and lashed it sideways at the fire manipulator. With a side step and a duck, she dodged the blade. Before the grunt knew it, he felt a pop and multiple tears from either side of his shoulders. Fiona had followed his strike by getting behind him and tearing his arms from their sockets. A dark crimson color appeared beneath the dark grey suit of gear the guard was wearing. His arms, now attached only by his costume, hung at awkward angles beneath the long sleeves. Wobbling at his feet for only a few seconds’ time, the last officer fell.

All the while, the heat continued to rise. The doctors, both old men, were still alive--but barely so. One had already given up on escaping the sauna from hell. Nearly lifeless, he laid there, every breath threatening to be the last. The second doctor was on his way to death’s doorstep as well, only he was dead-set on getting out of there. Fiona slowly approached the pair, indifference appearing on her face. Without a word she lifted the weaker of them by the collar and tossed him carelessly at the large screen of data now a mesh of dead pixels and static. His head crashed through the screen, leaving sharp spikes to partially sever his withered body.

Seeing this, the sole survivor of the carnage became engulfed in pure fear. He muttered incoherently to himself as he pulled out his ID card. His face had sunken in far more than it was when he initially entered the room. His eye sockets were now caverns that led to small beads of white and faded grey. The skin draped over his bones like wet towels, pulling him down to the floor. As the scientist swiped his pass and the door opened, a shadow came over his being. Like a scared child, the doctor faced Fiona. Her orange orbs were as bright as ever, piercing her now silhouetted figure.

“N-not now! No! Wait! PLEASE! I BEG Y-!

“Time for you to shut up.”

As the fire manipulator interrupted his plea, she reached for the lower portion of his jaw. With her other hand she clenched his neck and ripped his mandible clean from his face. The feeble shell of a man was so crippled by that point that only a dry cough escaped his now visible throat. Along with the blood that slowly flowed down from the exposed veins and muscles.

That’s when it finally hit. The ping at the base of Fiona’s cranium pricked mercilessly now. This migraine certainly wasn’t as bad as some, but it hindered her none-the-less. She placed a bloodied hand to the back of her head—the source of the pain. With her teeth clenched and an eye slightly squinted, she endured. The fire prototype knew that this was only the beginning of a long battle. Echoes of her kin that were trapped as she was floated through her brain: Sierra, Thetis, Idris, Ronin…

Ignoring her mental pain for just a moment, Fiona added her two cents to the collective thoughts gathering: We’re getting out of here right now! No pussy-footing with these Violan scumbags or your ass will be left behind!

With that, Fiona left behind her room of carnage and set out to break free from the chains she had worn for so long.
 
Last edited:

Hisako

消えないひさ&#
AKA
Satsu, BRIAN BLESSED, MIGHTY AND WISE Junpei Iori: Ace Detective, Maccaffrickstonson von Lichtenstafford Frabenschnaben, Polite Krogan, Robert Baratheon
“How we doing?”

“Nothing special, if you’re talking about Erthys over there.”

“Well, it’s not like you get paid enough for me to actually care for your sorry ass. Make sure he’s not screwing around with the monitors. Don’t go into the second chamber until you’re sure he doesn’t have something up his sleeve.”

808615-50
Destrillian Prototype # 000-000-002
Erthys Connor-Guzman
Thunder Child
Sub-outlet 3430c
Age: 22 years: 5 months: 16 days: 7 hours: 24 minutes: 18 seconds
Hyper-rest 23 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 10



“Sleeping like a – wait no, he’s opened his eyes.”

“Again? Well, that does it. Really make sure he doesn’t have access to the chamber doors power supply.” “Erthys, get back into your tank.”

“Rosie, I’ve had some of my brothers and sisters attempt to break out of captivity. I’d like to try and convince them otherwise.” A slight tilt of the head, the tiniest of smiles.

“And since when did you care so much about the rest of them?” The deafening messages carrying across his mind, the two silently flinging psychic pulses across two sections of concrete wall and blast-proof glass.

Dr. Rosin Franklin ext. 9
Log: 30


“They are brethren, my dear, but I’m sure that you wouldn’t understand unless you were one of us.”

“Regardless, we’re not letting you out-”
They were interrupted by distant klaxons accompanied by a nearby chime on the monitors.

“I’m sure that whatever’s going on right now, you’ll need my help. At least, that’s what I suppose some of the other labcoats are thinking right now.”

The scientist hesitated, a rare moment in her career. “Open the first blast door. Keep your distance, tranq’ him if he tries anything stupid.” She called for security backup, just in case.

“Thank you.” Erthys stepped through the door, and raised his hands. “Peace. I’m not going to hurt anyone.” He eyeballed the tranquilliser gun pointed at his chest. “Anything that I do to someone, really, comes back to myself.”

“What?”

“By that token, if you tranquilise me with that gun, you also… tranquilise yourself.”

The young man with the gun looked at the weapon in his hand, then back at Rosin, who by this time was thoroughly suspicious of what Erthys was saying. “Erthys, stop with this philosophical babble. Save it for the recreational room.”

Erthys appeared thoroughly taken aback, although all he displayed was a further tilt of the head and a lowering of his arms. “I was being serious, why does no-one take me seriously?”

“Are you going to tell us about the break-out or what? When is it?”

“And then there’s the point where when you ask the question, you’re not really asking it for someone else to give you the answer… you ask the question and it answers itself.”

Tired of the banter, Rosin motioned for the young man to shoot Erthys.

“Wait! Hey, easy.” The tiny smile appeared on the Destrillian’s chiseled face as an accompaniment to a raised palm. “Check the call for security again.”

Rosin did, but even before that, she knew something was wrong. “You knew about -”

Log: 31

A lot happened within the next few seconds. There was a blur of pale muscle, and in the first few milliseconds, two fingers prodded hard into the other scientist’s chest.

At roughly the same time after that, the tranquiliser gun was fired and a jolt of electricity ran through the scientist like a stun baton.

A few milliseconds after that, a dart embedded itself into the cartilage of Erthys’ ear as the stunned man began to drop to the floor like a dead weight, twitching and spasming.

As one second almost passed, Erthys fished a keycard out of the scientist's pocket and swiped it at the second blast doors to open it, bounding across the room using the next second of time.

Two more seconds of opening the blast doors while Rosin cursed and fumbled for her hold-out pistol. At the time of the point of realization, epinephrine began to course through her bloodstream.

A tiny electric arc surged across the control room at light speed, just large enough to make Rosin curse again and drop the gun. By the time the gun hit the ground in the next second, Rosin’s adrenal glands were working overtime.

Erthys cleared the distance between them with a few bounds, scooping up the gun and jamming it into the space under Rosin’s sharp chin. “How much of it was true?”

“W-w-w-”

“What, you ask? My past. How much about my past was true?”

“M-m-most of it. I mean, I mean, you were being abused, y-you see? Ab-abusive f-father! Y-y-your files will tell you… you’ve come so far…” If fear had a smell, Erthys smelt it. The woman was not lying. Erthys let her slump to the floor, releasing the gun from under her face.

“You-you’re not going to kill me?”

Erthys discharged all of the shots in the gun, and threw it back to Rosin, empty. She flinched as he crouched to face her. “Anything that I do to someone, really, comes back to myself. Like electrical circuits.”
Static electricity made Rosin cower as Erthys ran a hand through her hair. “Do you know what my father thought of me before I was taken away?”

“N-no-”

Erthys prodded her in the neck with a V-sign with his fingers, sending a current through her body for a few seconds. Standing up as she keeled over, twitching and convulsing, but far from death, he broke out his tiny smile again. “It’s funny, that. Neither do I.”

He walked back to the young man in the first chamber again, now limp and unconscious, taking his labcoat for modesty and to appear less conspicuous.
A pulsing pain began to gather at the base of his skull, not enough to cause any immediate distraction, but enough for Erthys to make a mental note about it. He thanked himself that he didn’t spend so much energy in subduing his captors. As he shrugged on the labcoat, he sent a general reply to the rest of his brothers and sisters, to Sierra in particular.

I hate to burst your bubbles, children, it’s been such a poetic jail-break. But before we break our chains, march to freedom or anything inspiring like that, have any of you got an idea of where exactly the way out is?
 
Last edited:

Channy

Bad Habit
AKA
Ruby Rose, Lucy
Destrillian 001 stirred. “Break our chains.…" Then a sudden flood of voices infested her mind and she clutched her temples. "…help me.. help me…” Her eyes glimmered with an innocence and a sense of misunderstanding. "I-I killed them””..left behind.” She swung her head once and sobbed. “Stop it…” It was unfamiliar chatter… “Let's see what they make've us..” “Goodbye. Doctor." isolated cries that she thought she should know. “Stop it!”

Her vision was blurring. Flashing before her fading eyes in the darkness were images she saw moments before she awoke.

She was administered a shot of Distrum deep into her neck, relinquishing the pain of her memories and her pulsing adrenaline. Her sweet sweet release to all the pain that they caused her.

Dr. Panyon himself was hovering over her. His fingers trailed across script in a nearby book, reciting passages to himself and scribbling down additional remarks on Sierra’s state. “001 has experienced several dreams from her past over the last two weeks… Additional procedures will need to be in order to wipe out her remaining memory if she is to be of any use to us.”

No… Don’t take them away…

He took his pen and trailed the ballpoint along her glass chamber, leaving no marks and simply reveling in his creation.

Tap tap.

He wondered when the next time would be that he would see her pale eyes again; colourless shades that stared emptily at the world and yet saw everything for what it was. He recalled the last time they met, she was upset because training was too harsh, and Fiona teased her relentlessly just like she would with any one of her comrades. 001 was upset, and for the first time since she had been captured, he saw within her the rage that he knew would bubble to the surface and explode in a flurry of destruction.

Remarking his musings, he jotted down a few more notes on the page before dating it. He rummaged with his fingers through past observations, comparing his findings, before giving a nod to his two colleagues. After assuring that Sierra was indeed asleep, he left the room with his subordinates. And so she was alone.

Oh how he would rue the day that he overlooked her awakening…


The book in question caught her attention. Laying sprawled across the dashboard lights was her life. Everything they had come to learn about her. Every little nook and cranny of her mind: probed. Every alteration of her body: documented. Passages upon passages of data and observations by scientists all dating back from the day she was brought in. Her whole life lay before her in 1,984 pages.

She took up the script and ran her fingers along several words. She hadn’t seen these types of words in years. She could only read at a 4th grade level before she was snatched and Destrillians weren’t taught it was too obscure. But there before her, she recognized those symbols and attempted to decode their cryptic message.

She merely scanned the pages contents, looking for any familiar words or sound but she understood none. But at the foot of the leaflet, there it was. Written with doubt and reservation, yet truth with every letter, she sounded the words out “We are creating our own murderers…”

The distant cry of voices and the light zip of a door sliding open distracted her. A technician, a doctor and a guard all came in at once. They all stood in the doorway, their shadows stretching forward and meeting at the table. So terrified about being caught with something she wasn’t meant to see, she dropped the book in an instant, allowing it to fall in its still open position with a loud echoing beat. Her gaze settled on the ominous team before her, particularly the phaser gun that the guard held firm. Guns weren’t toys. They weren’t to be taken lightly. This much she was sure.

“You there!” he shouted. “DO NOT MOVE!!!”

Sierra shuddered inside herself. The child inside of her awoke. Fear swelled up inside of her and she wanted to run. She wanted to hide.

“Stand slowly and turn around… Put your hands up!” The guard with the photon gun stepped forward. Sierra followed orders and raised herself from the table. She had to follow orders otherwise it meant instant paralysis and cardiac arrest. “Where are the others?” He nudged the barrel against her left temple. “Answer me!”

“You fool!” The Doctor noted the fluctuating mess of identities in her mind. “Don’t you understand what’s going on? Put your gun down.” The guard did as he was told with great reluctance. Calmly, Dr. Falle, an assistant to Dr. Panyon himself, stepped forward and placed a warm palm on her sticky cool back. His fingers grazed the shards of glass still embedded in her skin and he brushed them off, looking after his specimen’s welfare.

He had been assigned to 001 since the day she arrived, along with Panyon. He understood everything about her, what she did, how she did it and why. Sierra also understood that Dr. Falle and Dr. Panyon were the only ones in the hell hole she could remotely trust, besides her own.

“There now… What’s got you all riled up?” He spoke with a velvet tone, knowing that the slight tonal change to disconcert her.

Sierra spoke as sobs broke apart her words. All the while she pled with herself to stop crying. “I’ve been… dreaming… of mother…”

Falle chuckled lowly underneath his breath and simply rubbed the girl’s back, despite the sticky goo that remained on his fingers. “That’s impossible… You were made not to dream…” And with that, he relinquished the comfort from her and approached the guard and technician who remained back at the door. They exchanged hushed whispers, most of which Sierra wasn’t deaf to. “Make sure 001 gets back into Hyper Rest… We don’t want this happening again…”

Sierra turned to face the three men, the fear and sorrow she harbored was misplaced with a new emotion… rage. “My name isn’t 001…” She was furious, and that was reflected in the way her eyebrows furrowed down into a contorted expression. “It’s Sierra…” Her hands seemed to ignite with a pale glow. The guard at the far end of the room powered his photon gun and aimed directly for her.

Sierra raised her arms and held her hands upright, palms pointed out. She engulfed the photon gun in a magnificent orgy of lights and colours. It exploded as a bolt of luminous white lightning touched the tip of the barrel. The man cried out as white flames tore through his body like ribbons when he made impact with the far wall.

The Doctor stood by and motioned to the Technician to run for it. Not sparing a moment to save his life, the man in white fled. Falle remained.

“You do not run?”

Ceiling tiles rained down. Lights exploded. Circuits in the walls burst to flames and their cover panels bounced out into the hallway like frisbees. Other security agents herded themselves into the nearest automated door, clambering inside its safety. The two remaining figures in a lethal room painted an almost ethereal image.

Falle gave it one moment longer before he anticipated what would happen next. Sierra fell to her hands and knees and gasped for air. Her vision was impaired by the sudden light show and the ferocity of her powers from using them so soon after awakening. The popped circuitry and short fuses along the length of the corridor had shed some light to lead her on the way out, and left a shadow looming over her existence.

“It’s silly really…” Collectedly he strode towards her. He squatted down on his knees and picked up her chin with his right hand. “We believed in creating something new…” He tilted her head from side to side, his eyes glancing over any visible physical flaws. But there she was as he always remembered her. Her face was the epitome of perfection: high cheek bones, pale lips, her cupid’s bow quivering. “The ultimate killing machines…”

The Destrillian swatted his hand away and barely managed to shove the mad scientist over, sensations running over the map of her brain as she felt her headache worsen. “I was not created into this world, I was born... And you dared to take that away from me. You took away my family... You took away my home... You took me away from myself..."

"We gave you a new family... a new home... and a new life." Falle remained composed, even after Sierra crawled her way forward and mounted the man at his waist. The fact that she remained naked still eluded her, and the risqué position she had taken hardly mattered.

A circuit snapped and shorted between the two of them.

She shifted her gaze, eyes pure and thick as fresh fallen snow, landing on the frenetic fuse. Being careful with it as if it were a frightened animal, Sierra grasped the short fuse by its still covered hide and brought it closer, connecting its gaping mouth to the scientist she kept pinned to the floor.

Everything and nothing happened. It was all so quick; it was as if she missed a beat. Sierra shook her head and stepped away from the charred scientist, his smoldered uniform baked into his skin leaving little imagination to distinguish him apart from a monster. Sierra wept for the man who had cared for so long.

She stumbled on her way out. The Destrillian was hardly aware of the fact that she was still nude even after she stumbled over a clothed bloody body of a guard. No, it was a woman. She seemed to be burned, yet her body was marred with white cinders. Tears began to well up behind her eyes again as she stumbled off into the dark hall. It was the nurse… She thought fondly of her for a moment before coming to the realization that her death was at her hands and at the hands of her uncontrolled mental weapons.

How she could direct a small pack of her own through their escape, she knew not... She stepped into the hall, her shadow being caught by the wall across from her. She hesitated.

Clink clink clink.

Pitter patter. Footsteps. Someone was coming. She stumbled back and faltered, tripping over the bloody body of the nurse. With a short childish yelp she fell backward, her essence confused and befuddled as the shadow in the hall grew shorter, and her chances of being caught rose higher.
 

Alessa Gillespie

a letter to my future self
AKA
Sansa Stark, Sweet Bro, Feferi, tentacleTherapist, Nin, Aki, Catwoman, Shinjiro Aragaki, Terezi, Princess Bubblegum
Was she all alone? Her head was pounding and no kindly angel appeared to shoot her full of drugs. If she could get her brain working, this was going to be another day of saving herself.

She pressed her eyes into her head, hoping that perhaps it would be able to cut off blood to the part of her brain that was hurting. When she finally let her hands drop, however, her brain still hurt and her vision was now full of floating black jellyfish. She was seconds from crying out in pain again, until she heard a voice tell her what to do.

“Take the gun, shoot yourself. Take the gun, shoot yourself. Take the gun, shoot yourself.”


Which was easier said than done, since the gun was about half of her size and holding it while hunched over in pain was not particularly fun. She checked to make sure there was still ammo, head pounding, and awkwardly hefted the barrel of the gun against the skin of her leg. With one shaking finger, she pulled the trigger, and a tranquilizer bullet shot out, sticking awkwardly out of her leg. She dropped the gun and pulled the little needle-bullet out, a bead of red bubbling up from her flesh.

Is it time to sleep now? I feel sleepy now.

Now you find the others.


Wobbling, Terra got to her feet, kicking the scientist and taking his lab coat. Being naked made her uncomfortable. Despite the fact it was blood spattered, she slipped her arms through the coat, covering herself. She looked at the bit of fraying on the edges, wondering if this coat had been used often.
She smoothed out the little strings, pulling out the random loose end that was hanging freely onto the coat.

“If you move, I will shoot,” At least one guard was standing between her and freedom. He had some sort of talky box at his belt to call more guards to put her down, make her floppy and put her in the tube again. She hated that damn tube.

“Then do something about it!” Her older brother jeered, ignoring how much his sister hated not eating, “Then let us take the damn wagon back.” Her elder sister nodded with him in a sad sort of agreement, holding onto the youngest child, who was barely 2.


Terra sniffled, remembering how daddy had gotten it for them to play with, taking off her glasses and cleaning them on her soil-stained dress. “Pa got it for us, we should keep it. He wanted us to keep it…” She knew they had to sell that wagon, but at the same time, she’d rather die with it than sell it. Even though her belly growled for more food, she didn’t want to sell this precious item that her father wanted the rest of the family to have.


“Well, he’s dead now, and it’ll probably get us a nice price in the market. So I’m taking it and getting us some food,” He said, ignoring his sister’s tears. At least the girl still had her glasses, she should have been thankful for that at least. She touched her glasses lightly and let herself bawl until no more tears could come out.


She wasn’t sure where the memory came from, from another life, from time long past, from a person long dead. It didn’t matter anyways. She rose to her feet and dashed to the guard, who shot her several times with actual bullets. They hit her, bouncing off uselessly, showing the guard something he should have remembered about the girl. You needed to go with the grain of her skin to really do any damage. She bent the barrel of his gun (she liked to think of herself as strong), yanking it away from him. He fell backwards, reaching for the handgun he had at his side, but she wasn’t too keen on that idea. She stepped on his wrist, grabbing his head between her two calloused hands. “P-please don’t—“

Of course, she wasn’t listening. She was tired of that game. She snapped his neck with one deft motion and left him lying in the doorway, feeling dreamy from the tranquilizer. Where was she again? Oh, right, she was leaving her room to be free. Wandering out of the area, she didn’t even notice the soldiers who were quickly filling the hallways.

They can’t see me, I’m invisible. I’m a leaf floating in a war zone. No one can see me. No one.

And if they do, I’ll smash them.


The groups were marching solemnly down the hallway, two by two, marching down the little hallways like ants. They seemed to have been concentrated into one hall that wasn’t too far from her. Ignoring the bullets that were hitting and flopping off ineffectively on her skin, she followed the concentration of soldiers.

Is my friend there? Are they going to hurt my friend?

When she thought this, she suddenly became furious. Which was not a pleasant feeling in the least. She ran back to one of the soldiers, hefting him up easily and throwing him at the group heading for the room where her friend (?) was being held. This caught them all by surprise, as it happened in a matter of mere seconds, and Terra was quickly snapping the necks of the rest of the guards and removing their limbs to use as weapons. They were all babbling so loudly anyways, even when most of them were lying on the floor motionless, they were still talking. Why couldn’t they just shut the hell up?

To the soldiers who were standing around, wide eyed in shock and fear, this girl was clearly some sort of wildwoman who couldn’t be hurt by bullets. Though she hadn’t killed many (only perhaps two in her sudden bloodlust), she was a rather disturbing figure, wearing a blood-spattered lab coat and wielding someone’s arm while screaming, “SHUT UP SHUT THE HELL UP SHUT IT SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

The group of soldiers decided it would be best to leave this girl alone, squeezing past her, the woman-child heaving raging breaths as she clung to the wrist of her severed weapon. Once a good majority of them had left, Terra made small squeaking noises, realizing she was hurt, but not physically. Something in her heart made her hurt, and she covered it up, sniffling and moaning in sadness.

“Come on,” her friend told her, holding out his evanescent hand.


She smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes and taking his hand. They walked down the hall together, Terra smiling gently as her friend guided her to this new, strange area.
 

Bex

fresh to death
AKA
Bex
The world ceased to exist. There was only escape from a heart of darkness accompanied by orchestral groaning of sirens and the beating of her heart. Composed by freedom, the celestial hymn sounded an incessant chord that filled Thetis with desperate longing. Cosmos and chaos collided to blare the halcyon note of deliverance. Deliverance, at long last. The girl’s mouth gaped open, its corners curled into a smile of dreamlike disbelief. Tick tock. Thetis flinched. Time, the elusive warden of basement five. Time, absent for so many years, set into motion once more. Time, leering like a phantom from the shadows. What time did she have? Lights flicked and her trance fled, flailing its arms. The hands of fate were counting down. Tick. Tock. Escape, that word that had slept for so long was once again within grasp. That light, that hope stifled by the stygian cruelty of Viola no longer a dream, but reality. Thetis nervously licked the droplets of cold sweat from her upper lip as the ghostlike whispers of the other Destrillians diffused into her subconscious. Their words made everything that seemed unreal, real, and fear sunk its claws into the girl’s heart. The stench of sour metal rose from Thetis’ quivering hands as she brushed snow-white hair from her saucepan eyes. The girl stared blankly down the long, bare corridor before turning back to her jail.

Do not pass go​
Do not collect 200 tokens.​
“Well done sweetie!”​
“Our little girl won again?”​
……​
“The boys at school keep being mean about my name!”​
“Don’t listen to them sweetheart, you have a special-”​

A fluttering stomach lurched as blanched yellow pupils were caught in glazed, lifeless orbs, sunk into the contorted faces of four Violan corpses. Memories fell like leaves from a skeletal tree. Screams died in her and floated belly up. Like the dead guards, floundering helplessly against their fate. The music had gone now, no rousing symphony, no thundering drum supervised Thetis’ cacophony of thoughts, and hope was torn away like an insignificant weed. The Destrillian stole a frightened glance around her. Four puppets, strings cut, a wet floor lit by the blinking glow of the attributes monitor. The water, grey-green in the darkness, swelling orange digits rippling in its depths. Data that had been burned into the girls eyes for what seemed like an eternity. No longer. Thetis sprinted from her shelter in frantic terror, delicate, gel coated feet slipping across buffed concrete floor.

They came within minutes. Frenzied footfalls dulled by silence. Dark of heart in their starched trousers and steel tipped boots. They enforced the primal order. Hatred born from fear, science’s fear of nature, the norm’s fear of the alien, power’s fear of powerlessness. The need to enforce human nature’s pursuit of evolution overpowered by a paradox - the human urge to destroy what one could not subdue. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Five to crush a Six. To flee was to deny nature, to deny instinct, yet fear smothered the girl, paralysing her. But with that fear came anger. The black essence of anger that years under a tyrannous discipline could not erase. It blurred her sight, seeped into her mind and rang in her ears, echoing like the toll of a bell. Panic shrank away from rage, and Thetis drowned in the depths of fury.
A child cried out from the darkness.
Tick-tock.

The world was clear once more, and Thetis breathed a sigh of relief as she turned to face her pursuers. Science’s henchmen versus the power of nature. A sailing boat in the shadow of a tsunami. They were young, hiding behind their weapons like toy soldiers. Knees shivering, guns aimed. All but one glaring with empty, flat eyes. The last, hanging behind the squad leader, trembled and shook. Thetis cocked her head to the side, inquisitively probing his mind. She could feel his fear, his despair, his world of hopes turn to dust in the depths of his thoughts. He knew, yet still he spurned his fate, kicking and screaming against the inevitable like a child. Turning to face the rest of the platoon, Thetis raised her hands in surrender, golden eyes still rested upon the young man. She recognised him. He must have only been a couple of years older than her, always staring at her in the recreation room with a dangerous fascination. Her grace, her beauty her prowess - he had seen it all, and with knowledge came greed. The hunger to know her, to experience what she had experienced, to taste her power. Jealousy, such a weakness that desired power and fuelled his curiosity further. The guards shuffled uneasily, joints creaking like a thicket of trees caught in a heavy gale. A mere twitch of Thetis’ hand, and a warning shot soared past the girl, singeing the tips of her deep blue locks.

“Boys, boy, boys! Shooting at a naked, vulnerable girl? I thought better of you.”

The corridor ached with an ominous silence as #006 coyly primped in front of the men, taunting them, mocking them. One last performance before the curtain call. She reached to feel the burnt strands of hair before lowering her arms and sighing heavily in disappointment. She heard it all. The rattles of fear in their chests, their ragged breaths brawling for oxygen, the collection of raucous thoughts. Most of all, she heard the young boy’s terror.
You will all die here.​
Tick-tock.
“She’s in my head!”​
“Calm down Matthews!”


The offensive had begun, triggered by the voice of fate. The air shifted, particles slowed, and a crystalline wall of moisture blanketed Thetis. No sooner had the man lost his nerve, yelping as his shaking fingers pulled the trigger, eager to destroy the object he longed to be. The beam of light passed her by 5 inches to the left. The girl chuckled, her low sniggers climbing a crescendo into hysteric laughter.

“Why didn’t you just send down the doctor? Don’t you know? Don’t you see? Your stupidity will be the end of you. At least try to kill me!”

Confidence bred a crazed frenzy as the girl loosed her control over the aqueous mist, drops of vapour falling gracefully to the floor. Refraction had been one of the first things she had learnt about her power.

“She’s too far gone, take her within an inch of death if you must”

Exhilaration pulsed through her veins as the men lay down a withering barrage of gunfire. A delirious grin spread across Thetis’ face, all traces of humanity deserting her as she dexterously threaded her way through the hostile beams of light like a butterfly, avoiding the eager clutches of a child intent on breaking off its delicate wings. Throwing herself at the squad commander, #006 tripped his photon gun from his grasp and tossed it aside, gripping his body armour as she drew back a clenched fist. A set of knuckles drove themselves into the leader’s ribs, followed by the dull crunch of his skull on concrete. The rasping gurgle of blood on his breath as shattered bones tore at his lungs was music to Thetis’ ears. Crimson blossomed from his parted lips, staining his perfect white teeth, murky grey eyes shining with hatred as he spat in the Destrillian’s face. Fury responded with a devastating punch to his school, his last smug smile etched into his features. Acting without hesitation, the girl pulled a combat knife from the belt of the broken carcass that lay before her before hurling the weapon with all the strength she could muster. A soldier to her right fell as the treacherous point passed clean through the flesh of his throat, eyes bulged in fear as crimson gushed from his neck in a turbid jet. Thetis revelled in the shower of blood, sweet revenge stealing her words and replacing them with sadistic ecstasy as life burst from the dead man’s jugular.
Tick tock.

Time was running out. The girl’s cold gaze penetrated the men’s hardened shells. Guns were useless playthings against the harbinger of vengeance. Darting from the pair of corpses behind her, Thetis crashed into the third guard, his un spinning away from him as she knocked her hapless prey to the concrete floor/ She pinned him down, bony knees buries in muscular thighs as a pitiless hand wrapped around one of his wrists in a vice-like grip. As the Destrillians spread her pale fingers across his chest, there was no mistaking the malice in her eyes, swarming like a tempest of the soul.

The silence that hung in the air like a stagnant mist was soon broken by a choked gagging sound. Water flooded into the soldier’s lungs like a monstrous wave devours the shore. The man held hostage by the merciless girl jerked in her grip. He coughed violently, raising his free hand to strike Thetis and free himself from this barbaric torture. The girl merely swatted away his resistance, pressing her palm into his ribcage, watching the guard spasm as her cruel punishment saturated his lungs. Within seconds, water trickled from the corners of his mouth and nostrils as the soldier’s eyeballs spun into the back of his head. A searing bullet flew past Thetis, and the Destrillian rolled her toned body away from the corpse before flipping elegantly to her feet, the thick fog of water surrounding her once more. The girl’s pure white fringe was plastered against her forehead, matted and embellished with crimson as she sprinted towards her young admirer’s solitary guardian. Seizing his arm, she drove the butt of the gun into his chin before firing a single shot into his abdomen. He sunk to floor, moaning in pain - not yet dead, but beyond redemption as stomach acid spilled over his organs. The weapon had served its purpose, and Thetis hastily threw it to the ground, advancing on the boy who was now at her mercy.
ticktockticktockticktockticktockticktockticktockticktockticktockticktockticktockticktockticktock

“I don’t want to die!”

Pain obscured #006’s thoughts as the migraine invaded her senses, smudging the line of justice and punishment. She strode towards him unsteadily faltering as the headache gated away the inside of her skull, yet still ignoring his begging, his pleas to be spared.

“Try as you might to flee death, the longer you labour to escape, the sooner you will meet your fate. Truly, you are death's fool.”

Unyielding fingers wrapped around his throat, and the boy made no attempt to resist as he whimpered at the sight of her blood spattered face. Pressing his feeble body against the outside wall of her prison, Thetis leaned forward, her lips barely centimetres from his face as she felt his rapid breath against her neck.

“B-but I have so much to live for!”

So did I.​

#006 pitilessly tightened her grip on his larynx as the thought lingered at the back of her mind. The boy gasped and spluttered for breath, his mouth forming soundless words, silenced by white knuckles that were so vividly contrasted against his skin. The girl watched nonchalantly as bloodshot eyes crawled in their sockets and legs trashed against white walls. Splurt. Crimson splattered over Thetis’ cheek as a gunshot sounded behind her, and the young soldier fell limp as blood trickled over his brow, flowing like a stream down the bridge of his nose. Wheeling around, the Destrillian loosened her grip on the cadaver, allowing it to fall clumsily to the floor. The man she had shot only moments prior lay twisted on his back, clutching his gun in desperation. The Destrillian sighed and clicked her tongue.

“You knew it wouldn’t work, but you still tried? Now look what you’ve done - how could you?”

Her taunts cracked into spiteful laughter as the soldier groaned, his features sunken with the pallor of approaching death. Crouching beside the dying man, Thetis carelessly seized his thick, dark hair, pulling his drawn face towards hers, oblivious to his squeals of pain. Tick tock. She flinched as she felt the pressure of time.

“Do you hear it too? Ten minutes until you die”

The man’s face was screwed into a horrific expression of anguish and self pity.

“There, there. If you’re lucky enough to see anyone before the end, tell them to pass a message on to Dr. Perkins. I’m looking for her.”

The man gritted his teeth, blood foaming from the side of his mouth.

“Y-you bitch!”

Pulling his head back further, Thetis callously slammed his face into the ground before taking a step back to admire her handiwork. Then it hit her. Pain. The girl writhed in agony, her slender fingers tearing at her hair in a futile attempt to distract her from the torture. The pendulum slowed. TickTickTickTickTickTickTickTick

“Eat your greens darling”​
…​
…​
“Mummy’s very sick.”​
“Did Hercules eat his greens?”​
….​
…​
“They don’t know what’s wrong with her, honey”​
“Of course he did, all heroes do.”​
…​
…​
“She could die.”​

Memories assaulted her senses like the screech of a violin’s broken strings. Pain throbbed like the beating of a drum and vision slipped in and out of focus, as she stumbled and feel in a pool of liquid, her trembling frame crashing into the concrete floor. Clutching her forehead, the Destrillian attempted to raise herself to her feet, but slipped again in, her cheek slamming into the cold stone once more.

Thetis’ eyes darted around the corridor, frenzied and paranoid, devoid of all hope. She lay her eyes to rest on her shivering hands. They were coated in the dark, warm, vermilion liquid. The girl’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel it on her face, taste it in her mouth, smell it in her hair, like another skin over her body. Blood. Terror overtook pain as the girl glanced at the four, motionless bodies that lay in the foul pool of crimson. Murdered. Four dead, one dying. But where was her saviour? Thetis dragged herself upright and ran, a distinct nausea rising in her chest. Tears cut through blood as water cuts through stone. Was this the Charybdis? Sanity and memories flung into the cruel vortex, dormant for years until the pangs of adolescence spewed shreds of painful reminiscence from the abyss. There was no nostalgia, only brutal, unneeded misery. Why did she long to forget what she so desperately wanted to know? The sobbing girl staggered around the corner, throwing herself against one of the uniform white wall for support. She didn’t understand, her memories had been scattered like driftwood in the ocean. Collapsing to her knees, Thetis let out a wretched scream, tearing a fissure in the silence of Basement Five.
 
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Meteo

wolf among the sheep
...Freedom... Ronin labored to suppress his latent elation rising with the fall of Dr. Belamy. He had not known this emotional sensation in ten years, indeed the concept of liberation had become a foreign notion in his mind until this day. However, the cold steel walls of confinement reflected in his amber glare as a bitter reminder. This was only the beginning; the commencement of a perilous gauntlet of trials and tribulations, his survival of which would ultimately grant him true freedom. His goal was set, his mind focused ahead of him. Ronin tossed a fleeting glance behind him, mentally recollecting the past few minutes with a triumphant grin of satisfaction, then dismissed the incident with an expression of indifference. ...Nothing behind me matters anymore...there's no turning back...

The smooth concrete floor had become dangerously slick, thickly lubricated in a coalescence of water, blood, and congealed cryogenic fluid. Ronin strode carefully towards the solitary exit from his laboratory prison. Echoing through the vast corridors of the sub-level 5 basement, Ronin heeded the unmistakable clamor of frantic footsteps, charging intently toward the Prototype 5 laboratory. A contingent of five heavily armed guards were closing on his position rapidly, thrusting his momentarily halcyon mind into a frenzy of restless thought. Lacking a sufficient dosage of Distrum to stave off any potentially crippling migraines, Ronin realized the utilization of his unique power would only weaken him beyond the ability to fight for his goal.

Swiftly scouring the disheveled room for any useful tool of death, the Destrillian's glowing gaze fixed upon a steel shelving bracket, ripped haphazardly from it's bolted mounting during the previous fray of fatality and destruction. A lengthy scrap of curved metal, tapered at one end, bearing the crude resemblance of a small sword, though considerably dull and lacking the refined, elegant shape of a deadly blade. Grasping the misshapen brace tightly, his eyes once again scanned his surroundings to fill his vacant hand with a lethal weapon. One baneful instrument was abundant in that room so rife with technological devices: electricity. The aftermath of Ronin's initial escape left stray whips of electrically charged wires and cables hanging arbitrarily from virtually every conceivable outlet throughout the lab.

Instinctively, Ronin tore the thick rubber-soled boots from the feet of one of the deceased security guards and fastened them to his own. An uncannily convenient fit. The exposed electricity dangling hazardously near to the pervasively soaked concrete floor posed a fatal threat to his naked body void of any protective insulation.

Scaling a nearby computer console in a series of impressive and veritably graceful bounds, Ronin secured a firm grip on the insulated segment of a dense cluster of electrical cables, the end of which sparked menacingly in a flare of several wire strands. With a barbaric exertion of pure physical strength, Ronin dislodged the cable from the titanium metal clamps, which snapped feebly against the stress of such power. Vigorously pulling a length of slack cord from the decimated central power console, the young Destrillian wielded a crude yet efficient contrivance to exact a lethal toll on any who oppose him.

Ronin turned his full attentive gaze toward the jammed steel blast-door. The footsteps in the corridor had now halted just beyond that sealed barrier. ...They're here... He knew it was merely a matter of time before the armed dispatch broke through the steel barricade by whatever desperate means necessary. Surveying the lab one last time, Ronin hoped to exploit another of his supernatural advantages. Vision. Leaping atop a control panel, he balled his fist tightly, and blasted a gaping hole into an exhaust duct overhead, from which a heavy, heated haze surged through and inundated the room, rapidly filling the area in seconds. The billowing nebulous of polluted air created the perfect veil in which he could move freely and virtually undetected. With the eyes of a Destrillian, especially one who bore the blinding power of darkness itself, the opacity of the clouded room posed no hindrance to his eyesight.

Outside the door, five armed guards stood poised to infiltrate the Prototype 5 Cryogenics Laboratory. None but their captain had ever encountered a Destrillian prototype in the past, and none had ever faced the destructive power and cunning intelligence of such a biologically advanced being. As one guard planted a pair of plastic explosives on key stress points of the steel barrier, their commanding officer spoke in a stern tonality, warning his men of this unknown threat.

"Listen up men. This is our first engagement of the enemy. We shoot to kill. Do not hesitate or show fear, because your enemy will not. Despite what you may have heard, these are not mindless children with uncontrolled super powers. These beings, these...Destrillians...are bred and developed for one purpose and one purpose only. That purpose is to kill, by any means necessary. They are weapons of war, much the same as the very firearms you hold in your hands...only a thousand times more powerful, efficient and effective, and with a mind of their own. Be on your guard at all times, support each other, and you will all live through this."

The men nodded in unison, then swiftly retreated to a safe distance around a nearby corner to remain clear of the blast radius. Ronin responded in kind, knowing full well what devices of destruction they would employ to bring down the mighty steel door built to endure such impact. Taking shelter at a far corner of the lab, shielded among an assemblage of heavy machinery, Ronin waited for the imminent explosion. Moments later, the captain gave the order.

"Fire in the hole!"

The corridor was illuminated with a blinding light and deafening cacophony as the C-4 explosives were detonated on command, sending a shock wave through the entire level. The blast ruptured the giant door with a massive aperture. Superheated shards of fragmented steel shot randomly through the air in all directions like missiles of Hellfire and Brimstone at the advent of the apocalypse.

Embers of ruination burned persistently in the aftermath of the demolition. As the undulating smoke dispersed, the Violan security contingent regrouped just outside the perforated steel door, their backs against the wall at either side, photon weapons charged, waiting for the order of their superior to move in. The captain flashed a brief nod to all of his men, the signal to proceed with the mission. Two by two, the men filed into the wreckage of the Prototype 5 Cryogenics Laboratory, the captain trailing in the rear of the group. Instantly, the warm, weighted atmosphere consuming the lab overtook the group as the captain realized Ronin's tactic, mumbling to himself with half-hearted praise.

"You're a clever one aren't you..."

One of the guards spoke out with a noticeable perturbation in his trembling voice.

"Captain...w-what's going on?! I can't see a damn thing!"

The captain snapped back at his subordinate vehemently.

"Calm down! He's used the heating exhaust ventilation ducts to his advantage. The room temperature matches his body temperature rendering infrared detection useless. We're blindfolded."

"But sir!--"

"You have four alternative senses soldier. Use them! All of you stay close together and stay on your guard."

The group stepped lightly in the intermingling liquids that coated the slippery concrete floor. Ronin could easily distinguish the latent fear boiling within each of them, including their commanding officer. He was ready to make his move. Enveloped in the opaque shroud of fume that filled the lab, Ronin stood mere feet from the group of Violan security undetected as he drew back the electrical whip in his hand and lashed forward with a violent stroke swiping a glancing blow to the cheek of one guard while wrapping around the neck of another tightly. The man gargled incoherently as the others attempted in vain to ascertain from which direction the attack came.

With his catch secured, Ronin gave an unforgiving pull, forcing the soldier crashing to the ground at which point his body became the medium between the electric current that ensnared his neck, and the blood-stained fluids that flooded the floor. A massive power surge coursed through the man's body as his muscles contracted wildly causing violent convulsions as he writhed in agony supine. Flesh melted like cheese, and his face was charred black as the electricity cooked his meaty existence completely. Frantically searching for their fallen comrade, another guard managed to grab hold of the corpses' arm, allowing the surging electrical current to arc into his body as well, repeating the gruesome process of electrocution and death.

The rancid stench of scorched human flesh chokes the air from the lungs of the three remaining guards as they huddle together in a futile formation to protect one another from the unseen fatality that awaits each of them; death itself looming ominously in shadow and smoke.

Wasting no time, Ronin hurls his steel shelving bracket as a spear, which accurately finds its mark piercing directly through the heart of the nearest soldier, who falls to the floor lifeless in an instant, a pool of blood accumulating around the cadaver. In a fleeting glance, the final two Violan guards catch an eerie glimpse of a glowing pair of yellow eyes, barely visible through the dense fog, though unmistakably belonging to their attacker. Discharging their rifles, the two fill the laboratory with bolts of photon energy, devastating what little structure throughout the room had not yet been destroyed. Their misguided aim was of no concern to the enraged Destrillian, who proceeded to dart into the center of the pair, bending down to sweep the two off their feet while ripping their distasteful weapons from their grip in a fluid motion as he regains an upright posture.

Tossing the photon rifles aside, and out of reach, Ronin drags one guard by the ankle to the cryogenic sleep chamber he recently broke free from. Fruitlessly flailing about, the man fails to resist his enemy's formidable strength as Ronin forces the guard onto the platform, physically restraining him with one arm while pulling a tube from overhead, fiercely thrusting the end into the soldier's mouth while flipping a switch on the chamber control console, sending a tubular river of cryogenic fluid flowing into the man's throat, filling his esophagus, trachea, lungs, and nasal passages. Within seconds the man drowns from the violent intrusion of this quasi-congealed substance, pumping relentlessly through his respiratory system. With a slight grin of satisfaction, Ronin turns to the final victim.

The captain struggles to his feet, stumbling towards the door in a hopeless escape effort. Charging the man at full speed, Ronin drives his shoulder into the disoriented captain's ribs, as the two reel through the obliterated steel door and crash explosively into the wall across the corridor. The impact crushes several of the man's ribs, which in turn pierce his lungs causing him to violently cough up blood, laboriously wheezing. Pinned by his enemy, their eyes meet, the frightful pale orbs of the captain staring into the ominous, sanguine amber glare of the Shadow Star. Between fits of coughing, the senior soldier mustered a curious question.

"What...are you?"

Pausing for a moment in thought, Ronin answers the dying man's inquiry.

"...A person. Not a weapon."

Leaning in closer to the captain, Ronin exerts greater pressure on the man's crushed ribs as he issues his own interrogation.

"Tell me, where is Dr. Bayley? We have much to discuss."

In a swift retort, the defiant man spat back, blood dripping from his lips as he continued to writhe in pain.

"Go to Hell, freak!"

With his undesired response Ronin dropped the captain from his pinned position. Grabbing an arm, the Destrillian drags his adversary to the improvised entrance of the security team. The edges of the steel door, sharp, and still hundreds of degrees in temperature. Placing the midpoint of his forearm across a serrated, superheated edge of the ruptured door, Ronin snaps the man's arm at the bone, breaking it while searing and slicing skin and tissue to completely sever the limb from the victim's body. The captains' screams echo through the wide halls of sub-level 5 and Ronin examines the detached appendage grinning triumphantly at the sharp tip of the bone. Pulling the officer's long knife from its belt holster, he carves the flesh from the bone meticulously, leaving a sharpened stake what was was a human arm. Pressing the tip under the chin of the soldier, Ronin remains in a seemingly placid mood.

"After you sir."

In a swift thrusting motion he drives the man's forearm up through his mouth and into his brain, killing him instantly.

Stretching his cognitive senses, Ronin confirms the presence of two of his kin nearby. ...Together we are stronger... Hurriedly, Ronin relieves his deceased foe of his pants, slipping them on over the boots and fastening them to his waist with the officer's belt. Sheathing the knife in its holster he sprints down the hall intently, following the sensory signatures of his closest brethren.
 

Hisako

消えないひさ&#
AKA
Satsu, BRIAN BLESSED, MIGHTY AND WISE Junpei Iori: Ace Detective, Maccaffrickstonson von Lichtenstafford Frabenschnaben, Polite Krogan, Robert Baratheon
Humming. Erthys had tried it once, when he suddenly and inexplicably heard a little catchy tune of music. It came and went in an instant, but he tried the humming (as the scientist’s records accompanying the log would have said, “just to try on for size”) and it became addictive.
It was a few lines of notes, no more than a minute or so, but it never got tiring. At least, to him: one or two of the others mentioned something about finding something different to hum every once in a while.

And so it was also at this point, walking along a relatively deserted corridor, with the faint smell of blood in the distance, the guards looking in the completely wrong place for Erthys or being slaughtered by the other Destrillians, wearing someone else’s labcoat, trousers and shoes and being inconspicuous, that Erthys hummed his tune.

He made a mental note to find out exactly what the tune was before he left.

Nearby screams echoed through the corridor. He wasn’t sure of what it was, but he was sure that he wasn’t keen on finding out what it was. He hadn’t been caught out from his disguise, and he wasn’t planning for that to happen anytime soon either.

It wasn’t difficult to pick up the waves of emotions stemming from the psychic impulses coming from his brothers and sisters. Confused joy. Maniacal bliss. Apprehensiveness. Blind pain. Lethargic euphoria. Adding to that the flickering little echoes coming from their would-be captors – generally just pain, despair, and agony.

Erthys sighed as he electrocuted a pair of unsuspecting guards in front of him like a taser. He counted himself as blessed to be bestowed with the power not only to kill, to ravage until the victim was indistinguishable from ash and smoke, but also to just incapacitate and knock out for a good period of time.

As the two soldiers slumped to the ground, twitching like floundering fish, he wondered if the other Destrillians knew exactly how much less energy it took to simply knock them out than to tear off every limb or shrivel their bodies into warped husks. Or whatever sort of action that derived sadistic pleasure.

It was, after all, a law found in the very ideas in physics – a multitude of objects would statistically prefer a path of least resistance.

As a victim close-by screamed out in agony, Erthys sighed again as he replaced his new clothes with the outfit of one of the guards, keeping the gun just for aesthetics. In the disguise, he’d get through this level a lot faster amid the chaos. As the now half-naked guard of the two attempted to grab at Erthys’ leg, he was given a second jab of electricity for good measure, while the twitching pain at the base of Erthys’ skull twitched just a fraction harder.

He did away with the helmet, just in case the other Destrillians had half a mind to deep-fry him or grate him into shreds.

On he walked, searching for any of his brethren, finding mostly nothing but bits and pieces of corpses lying everywhere and floors slicked with blood, water, and thick slimy goop. There was simply a trail of wanton destruction wherever he followed.

Erthys spotted another body, that of a scientist, except that he was completely burnt into the floor rather like an overbaked biscuit. Erthys looked around and hardly flinched as a still flailing electrical cable smacked him in the stomach, letting normally lethal discharge bleed out into the floor. The fact that the entire room looked like it had been destroyed mere minutes ago told him that he was close to finding one of theirs.

The moment of attempted forensic analysis (which brought about a sense of self-satisfaction that may have been logged had the machine for logging such data not short-circuited) was interrupted by a flash of woman crash-tackling Erthys rather hard into the ground.

Erthys was by no means a man easily knocked over, much less one to be taken by surprise, and so at that point he was quite interested as to who exactly managed to pull off this particular feat. He began, quite slowly, with the broken piece of glass tube that a slender, pale hand was holding against his neck, moving up to a well-toned arm, to a shoulder partially covered by bleach-white hair, and then to the face.

A face not quite in the right mind.

“Sierra, my dear-” the ‘dear’ added with a little more presence, “- I’m quite happy to see you too. But tell me, was killing one of your brothers part of the plan?”
The stark naked woman perched in front of him seemed to phase out even further at the mention of “one of your brothers”, and sat down, quite confused, on top of Erthys.

Erthys tilted his head (as he now could without the danger of being stabbed in the larynx), and smiled a tiny smile in bemusement. I don’t think I’ve quite seen her from this angle. No, I don’t think so. He tried getting up, but it was difficult with Sierra planted on his waist, pinning him to the floor.
“Ummm… Sierra?”
 
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Baldy

000 - 000 - 009
AKA
Sienna, Jenovas-Fifth, Idris
Panic was flying high on the radar.

Viola big shots were in total disarray – nothing like this had ever happened with their experiments before. The scientists were scrambling for plans of action, either too conceited to allow their projects to best them, or desperate for any kind of assured safety. The facility's armed forces were mobilizing, squads of infantry being sent into the dark and enigmatic Basement 5 without any real idea of the horror they were marching into.

And amidst it all was Destrillian 009, on the balls of her feet, stepping daintily between jagged segments of glass while sloughing off the cold, bluish gel-like substance that coated her skin and made her shiver in the eerie quiet of this particular hallway. The alarms had stopped wailing their warnings now, because everybody knew of the impending storm that was coming and all the alarms did was distract. No noise was made from behind the other reinforced doors lining the stark, white hallway, and it was this fact that allowed Idris Savage to cough up congealed lumps of cryogenic slime in relative peace, while listening for any noise that might creep down from other connecting hallways.

"Could definitely be worse," said the young woman to herself, jauntily, after spitting out another glob the size of a large marble. Her throat felt clear now, and her exposed skin was adjusting to the frigid temperatures of the basement hall – from what she had gathered in her past years, everything had to be cold, simply to keep it sterile.

Blood was beginning to pool outside the doorway she had come from. Even though her attack on the stand-in doctor had made only the smallest of injuries, it was an extremely sensitive spot and rich crimson liquid burbled from it in thick spurts, creating an ever-widening puddle around his head. Idris pulled a face at the part of his body she could see, a single spread-eagled leg.

"Sorry, love. Being a replacement and all, I'm not quite sure you deserved that," said the girl in a sort of lofty yet sincere sort of voice. Pale grey eyes flicked to one end of the hallway, where a rumbling sound had begun and was rapidly growing into the recognizable sound of footsteps echoing in the metal-laden halls. "Hope you get a nice burial," she tossed over her shoulder with a grin, and then whirled and sprinted lightly away to a safer location.

Mere minutes later, a miniature regiment was standing around the open doorway to the former room and cage of Destrillian 009, looking down pale-faced at the body of whoever had tried to stop the experiment from leaving it's confines. Seven men, following their captain's action, faced the other end of the hallway with expressions varying between confidence and suppressed terror. On silent command, they made their way down the cold, claustrophobic line of doors and white, not knowing who or what awaited them on the other end.

But they all made it to the end of the hallway alive. This tiny victory steeled the soldiers' resolve to continue onward and they moved as one down another hallway, and another, still encountering nobody. They could hear the sounds of battle being played out all around them, in places just out of sight.

"Sir, there are other troops fighting for their lives two hallways down—we should go and assis—"

"Negative, soldier," came the hardened reply. The captain was seasoned in battle and knew that orders were best followed. "Our mission is to find Destrillian number 009; that is our target. That comes first and foremost, understood?"

"Understood, sir," said the man who had spoken first, and then with a little more attitude, "but with all due respect, the Destrillian is proving damn impossible to find. It's like chasing smoke – we're getting nowhere. We should double back and aid the—"

"Chasing smoke?" repeated the captain. He stopped, then, and turned to face his seven cohorts. He looked each one in the eye and then nodded once. "Follow smoke and you'll find the fire."

And he gave a smile that said he wanted nothing more than to find this fire… and put it out. And so their search continued. But as they wound deeper and deeper into the maze, the fact that they encountered nobody began to make the squadron more than a little paranoid. Upon finding another dead end, they hurried back to one of the main hallways with a speediness born of unease, lest these hallways become their labyrinth, and the Destrillian their Minotaur.

But upon arrival into the main hallway, whose width was more than double that of the little offshoots, the soldiers found it to be filled with smoke – no doubt a parting gift, left behind by another of the escaped experiments. Visibility was cripplingly low.

And lo.
At the other side of the smoke field, some twenty meters away, a small, hazy silhouette stood poised, as if watching them with great interest through the smog. It was noticed first by a soldier who was unusually young—and inexperienced.

"Sir… is that…?" he stammered, his composure lost at the sight of what could potentially his target. The others were quick to see it as well. Their captain nodded grimly, hefting his gun from his shoulder.

"That's the one. Careful, men – she's going to be tricky."

"I-it's a she?!" rang the voice of another of the fighters, who up until that moment had thought that these experiments would look nothing like a human and as such would be a cinch, morally, to take down. The captain scoffed at his men.

"What'd you expect, tentacles? Now hurry into formation and get a clear shot on her, unless you'd rather be torn clean in half!"

From the other side of the billowing smoke, Idris tilted her head. Torn in half?
"That's disgusting," she said, her eyebrows raising high and her already alto-pitched voice raising higher in disbelief. Exactly what had these soldiers been told about her before they had embarked on their mission to take her down?

She stilled the affronted clamour within her body to better hear what was being said – or ordered – on the other side of the hallway. She could distinctly make out the sound of a multitude of weapons clicking; normally it would be quite menacing. The corners of her mouth turned upwards in a smile – using weapons with bullets, they were. How fortunate for her.

And finally, the smoke cleared as whatever had been burning finally ran out; the young woman barely had time to register the cry of "Open fire!" before a hail of bullets were sent her way. She only had to blink her eyes and a magnetic field had sprung from her skin, expanding into an orb around her that caught and held any bullets that had been meant for her. Idris stood there, calm, allowing the magnetic shield to revolve slowly around her so that the bullets it was catching were spread out nice and even. It was a good long minute before the ugly sound of gunfire had stopped its assault on her ears; only then did she loosen the viscosity of her shield so that the little metal projectiles orbited around her in a lazy, content manner. She walked forwards a little—and turned her head to the side sharply, raising one hand delicately to cover her ear as another gunshot resounded down the hall.

"That noise they make really is deafening," she called out to the regiment before her, letting her hand drop. A few of the men spared quick glances at their guns that told her they knew what she meant, and this made her smile a dazzling smile. It must have been seen as a predatory thing, because from her vantage point she could make out one soldier who began to tremble slightly.

"Destrillian prototype 009, we are obliged to render you incapacitated if you do not cooperate," said the man in front, undoubtedly the leader of the group, with a low growly voice which completed his already formidable appearance. Idris pursed her lips.

"Cooperate with what?" she inquired, the curious lilt in her voice stunning most of the soldiers. The experiment was capable of rational thought? This made things increasingly interesting and, at the same time, frightening. The captain faced her without any trace of fear, a feat most admirable.

"You are to return to your confines posthaste." The thing with bullets swirling languidly about her head didn't seem to like this idea. She raised an arm—half of the men aimed their guns, triggers ready, but she had only meant to raise a finger, a visual punctuation to a point she was about to make.

"I'd have to disagree on that one, love." Idris plucked a bullet from her shield and played with it, flattening it into a little disk with her thumb and forefinger; her eyes glittered as she took in how shocked these soldiers were to see her acting so… human. What had they expected from her? "Listen, here's an idea: go lock yourself in a cold, asbestos-lined room and get into a tube full of really foul-tasting gel and stay there for a couple of years, and then come back and ask me the same thing. It'll be a lot harder, I guarantee," she added on as her previous words received no answer.

She scanned her small audience, searching their eyes for any signs of sympathy, pity, anything – any soft spot she could work with. To her eldritch delight, she found it in the trembling soldier.

"I mean…" she began, halting the trajectory of the bullets around her so that she and the soldiers could see each other clearly. She forced her voice to crack most convincingly. "Look at me! This, gentlemen, is the result of nine years kept underground as part of an experiment so cruel and unusual, so hellish, that the conceivers of the entire scheme ought to be burned alive. You can't see the scars because they've been lasered away"—she spread her arms slowly, imploringly—"but believe me, they're there. You know the feeling of failure in combat; imagine a failure so great and undeserved that it landed you on an operating table for half your life… heartless excuses for human beings sticking all manner of foreign bodies into you to see how you react, and why? Because they can."
Her eyes were dry, but even Idris' heart wrenched at the sound of her own sorrowful voice – and she knew it was mostly fake.

Pulled in by her words like the bullets to her shield, the squadron had lowered their weapons. Idris smiled widely. Perhaps soldiers could be reasoned with, after all—

But her smile had been misinterpreted by their captain. "She's lying to you all! Now get back in line and load up the photon guns! I'm not about to get picked off by some genetically altered bitch just because she spins me a sob story. Everyone…"
The captain kept on talking, but Idris had tuned him out.

Lying…? Photon guns?

Bitch?

"You know," she said slowly, her normally pleasant voice dropping rapidly into a guttural snarl as the bullets around her body whizzed faster and faster, swinging in tighter arcs around her small frame, "they always told me that if I tried to escape, armed forces would come in to stop me. I asked why and they said it was because they were protecting the world from me. But really…" her steely eyes narrowed into slits and the bullets spun ever faster. "…if your idea of saving the world is shooting at a young, naked girl and then blatantly insulting her when she attempts to be peaceful about the whole ordeal, then the world really is in danger, you chauvinistic bastard."

The magnetic field evaporated.

A hundred bullets were released from their respective racetracks; for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stop for the soldiers, and they saw around the girl a sphere of metal death, pointed in every direction but especially theirs. And then the projectiles rocketed outwards.

Holes like coin-sized craters were spattered down the walls; Idris hadn't been aiming for any special target but she had intended for most – if not all – of the regiment to be downed by her bombardment. For the most part, she got her wish. Bulletproof vests or not, her projectiles had been fired at about twice their regular firing speed courtesy of the magnetic field, which the Destrillian had reversed to repel the metal at the last moment before it had disappeared; some of the soldiers were already stone dead with holes through important parts of them. The captain especially had been victim to her vicious salvo, but two men remained, alive and miraculously unharmed.

"Tch—I suppose you used the bodies of your comrades as shields. Even subconsciously, that's cold," she said to the two. They looked equally terrified of her, but the one closer to her picked up his photon gun once more, his face set in defiance.

"You will go down for that," he intoned, drawing every word out to make it count. Idris tilted her head, and then another smile split her face.

"I like you. You're gutsy – that counts for something down here," she conceded, giving him an approving gaze. It was unnerving, how calmly she stared down the barrel of a fully charged photon weapon, but nevertheless the man held his position. "But goodness me, learn to pick your battles! It's a dark and mysterious world in the depths of Basement 5… here, there are monsters." She smoothed a loose strand of hair back into her white-blonde crop, still slicked back with cryogenic gel. The soldier's gaze hardened.
"You mean like yourself?"

Idris' pale, perfect bottom lip protruded ever so slightly in a gentle pout. "Aw, wish you hadn't said that – it's things like that that got your captain mowed down."
And, swift as a bolt of lightning, The Gunmetal Glint struck.

It happened before anybody could even think. The last soldier watched in awestruck, abject horror as the weapon who called herself a girl swiped her hand across the metal door to her right; a jagged, razor-thin slice the width of her arm came off like wood being chipped from a block. With a supple flick of the wrist, the metal sheet whooshed through the air and the next thing the young, trembling soldier knew, his final comrade was on the floor, dead, with the top of his head hewn clean off.

And now she turned her eyes to him. Those eyes, with their unusually large pupils surrounded by rings of pale, perfect greys. Mute with fear, the young soldier recoiled from the Destrillian, backing up, backing up, backing up until… he found himself fallen on the floor. Tripped, over the cadavers of his friends and comrades. He blanched – he couldn't even think straight.

Idris regarded him with the same sort of gently smiling interest that a veterinarian would show to a kitten. She bounded over the bodies in one smooth motion and landed in a crouch just in front of him, blending the two movements so beautifully into one that it could have been taught to her in a school for ballet and not a training facility. The poor soldier couldn't help the whimper of fear that slipped between his teeth, and he felt the heat rise in his cheeks immediately after—so he had to be humiliated before he died, did he? But he hadn't been killed yet, and even as the girl reached out her hand he didn't feel like death was about to descend upon him.

She touched him. On the forehead. She brushed away a stray strand of hair.
"I remember that soldiers used to need to cut their hair much shorter than this," she breathed, trapped for just a moment in her own mind as a memory resurfaced.

She hadn't killed him yet.

Naturally, the young man was terrified. "Y-y-you're—"

"Hush now," she told him, and fearing for his life he complied instantly. She seemed to be analyzing him, and not just his body… his mind, too. He could almost feel her in his head, probing here and there for whatever it was she searched for. Time seemed to stop.

"What's your name?" the remarkable creature in front of him inquired, sounding for all the world as if the two were lounging on divans at a rich and sophisticated dinner party instead of crouched low among freshly killed soldiers, with the stench of blood and metal permeating the air. The soldier stuttered a response.

"A-Aaron Morrow, m-m-ma'am—"

"Morrow, huh?" Idris looked upwards in thought. "Sounds like 'sorrow.' We both know what that's like." He barely dared to nod his agreement. "Alright, Aaronlove, here's the proposition."

He blinked. Proposition?

"I will get out of this place alive," she said slowly, making sure he understood. "It's just about set in stone. However, I don't know what they told you but I don't particularly fancy killing sprees."


"Actions s-speak louder than words," replied Aaron Morrow, hardly believing his gall. The girl in front of him laughed, her fingertips still touching his forehead – he was beginning to feel a little lightheaded…

"Touché, hon. So here's an action for you – I'm going to let you live, and you are not going to shoot me the moment I turn my back to go, alright?" Before he could work through whether she was telling the truth or not, another one of her flashing smiles sold him on the issue. He nodded weakly. "Sweet," she commented, letting go of him and rising to her feet. Little pellets of something dropped from her fingertips and hit the floor. "Just giving you a heads-up, I've snagged a lot of iron from your blood so you're in absolutely no condition to do anything but sit there and pretend like you're dead so the others don't see you and do to you what I didn't. So take my advice and pretend your life was taken in order to keep it, got it?"

And she was up and gone down the hallway, nimble and spry and dangerous… but with a sense of morality, at least.

"Seems I'm just on a role of letting one person live for every encounter," she thought as she leapt through the halls. "Huh. I guess I'm just a sweetheart like—"
"Wh—!" she exclaimed aloud, as somebody had just come crashing into her. Not in an unfriendly way, either – more just that the somebody in question happened to no longer be alive. She shrugged off the dead body and only then saw its source.
"Aha."

She had found one of them.
 

NoenGaruth

That Guy With The Midgar Model
AKA
NoenGaruth, Stolz, Blitzwing, Ryoko Asakura, Judge Magister Gabranth, Col. Hans Landa, Itsuki Koizumi, Treize Khushrenada
"Well, let's get this over with then shall we?"

Circe didn’t respond, her attention was fixated elsewhere as the pair stood on the helicopter landing platform. Vargas raised an eyebrow and looked at the girl with a puzzled expression. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"Bad news incoming" She replied without shifting her gaze. Vargas turned to see what she was looking at, and saw the soldier running towards them from the doorways that lead into the building, and from the worried look on the man's face, he knew Circe's assumption was right.

"Sir! I'm afraid we have a situation!" The soldier said as he saluted the two superiors and removed his helmet.

Vargas's eye's lit up with concern and his expression went dead serious. "What is it?! Did the LY-9's reactor leak again? Was there a fire in the fusion cannon's test chamber? Did the Mark IV prototype go haywire again?!" He grabbed the man by the shoulders as though he were about to shake him. "Well what's wrong!?"

The soldier was a little dazed from what had just happened "N-no sir, nothing's wrong in your department. It's the Destrillian's, all of a sudden thing's started going berserk and we've got numerous reports of containment breaches".

Vargas paused, still holding the man's shoulders, looked down and digested what he had just been told, then looked back up with the most joyful expression he'd ever had. "Why that's GREAT NEWS!" The soldier was completely confused at this point. "Man did you really have me in a scare, I thought something had really gone wrong, but this now definitely makes it worth skipping on the Mark IV's field test!"

"But sir, the Destrillians are on the loose and we already have reported casualties! The board is in a total panic!" The soldier petitioned to Director Vargas, who was already too consumed in his bliss to pay attention, so then he turned to Circe. "M’am, shouldn't he be taking this more seriously?.

"No actually this is exactly how I expected him to respond" She replied calmly.

"But my superiors tell me this situation is a major crisis!"

In an unexpected move, Circe smirked "To them maybe, but WE are the weapons development department, it is our expertise to make things die, and where you see a problem, we see an opportunity". Her words immediately grabbed Vargas's attention back. "Yes you are spot on my dear! These science experiments are boasted as being the ultimate weapons - If we prove such a title wrong the board will loose faith in the entire project and once again Weapon's development will be on top."

At this stage the soldier had thought both of them had completely lost it. "Alright if you say so sir, my orders were just to inform you of the situation and that the board wishes to see you asap, then I'm to rejoin my squad and assist in subduing the escapee's"

Vargas and Circe both gave the young man a look as though they would never see him again.

"Understood. Thank you soldier, good luck with your mission." Then patted him on the shoulder. He decided to make this guy's farewell a pleasant one since the poor bastard's chances of survival were minimal - sure he looked down on the Destrillians, however he would admit they were deadly to those who were unprepared, and sadly grunts with standard issue rifles stood no chance.

The soldier then saluted them both again, turned around and proceeded on his way to certain doom.

They both stood there silently, with their arms crossed until he was gone, then resumed their conversation, only they both spoke in a serious, dark tone.

"So what's our next move Sir?"

"We have a number of options laid out in front of us, do we simply aim to kill them all ourselves, let it play out with the regular grunts, try to get them to eliminate each other, or......." He trailed off into thought.

...I wonder if any of them would even consider it...

"Or what sir?"

Before he could answer the sound of a cell phone started ringing. He sighed, pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered it.

"Vargas here............yes..........no I got your messenger boy..........understood...........I'll be there right away".

"The board no doubt." She guessed. "Sure was, they're getting very paranoid now, all of them except 008 have broken out and if I had to guess that one will follow suit shortly."

Circe stretched her arms then placed them on the back of her neck as her hair flowed with the wind. They stood there in the silence staring out over the landscape, soaking up the peace and tranquillity since it was going to be complete chaos once they went inside.

Vargas then adjusted his tie and broke the silence. "Alright, time to go to work, head to the robotics lab and make sure anything that was ready to go into production is online and set to be deployed for combat, I'll head over as soon as I'm done listening to these fools blubber over their mistakes"

She nodded to him, then turned and headed for the door. Vargas paused for a moment, then proceeded indoors himself.

Looks like this day is proving to be interesting after all
 
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Channy

Bad Habit
AKA
Ruby Rose, Lucy
Like soft rain, the pitter patter of footsteps just inches away on the other side of the wall came to a halt. Hesitation. Observation. Uncertainty.

Her hand skimmed the floor at her side, searching for any sort of weapon to use other than her mental prowess. What if she was caught again? What if there was no real escape from this place? What if her owners were just around the corner, and would stop at nothing to captivate her? Already riddled with a migraine there was no way she could hold her own against an armada of soldiers and scientists. She would have to find another way to defend herself. She would need a new plan of action for liberation.

Her fingers grazed the rough surface of a shard; glass from her own prison, still sticky in the residue of her slumber. To avoid using her mental abilities and further worsening her migraine, she could easily slit the throat of any guard on the other side. Would she be quick enough? Could she distract them long enough to slit their throat and bathe in the blood of her victory? But how long would that victory last before another squadron came along?

“Security Alert. Security Alert. Breach in Sectors 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, and 9. Destrillian prototypes have awakened and are now on the loose. I repeat. Security alert…”

Whether it was the alarm or the indignation within themselves, the footsteps brought the stranger closer to her until they were within eyeshot. As she remained crouched on the floor, she brought her weapon closer to her. Green and white; the colour blend of earth and sky, something so innocent and beautiful, and yet… something that also carried the same traits of dangerous and cruel intentions; doctors and guards that confirmed her suspicion. Without wasting a second longer she leapt from her spot with a war cry of sheer animosity and tackled her victim down.

Sierra, like the inner animalistic Destrillian she was, had ambushed her prey, taking them down swiftly as she positioned herself over their chest. Her weapon was already pressed to the exposed skin along the jugular vein. She gritted her teeth as she felt the vein pulse beneath her redeemer. An innocent was about to fall to her actions, and at the cause of her own hands this time. It would be but another death; one more grain of sand on the scale, barely tipping it in her favour. She would still need many lives to make up for the advantage that they had over taking her life. Retribution was at hand.

“Prepare yourself, scum.”

This was not the man that she was expecting to see. Her eyes glimmered with a feigned innocence, and her mind was suddenly elsewhere. She was lost inside herself again.

Sierra awoke within a field. A field of breathless silence that caused her heart to ache with an unknown desire. She was… a child again? Eight… The same age she was when she was captured, and everything she grew to love was so ruthlessly torn away from her. Why was she taken to a time she had forgotten… Or rather, all but forgotten until now? Why were these memories suddenly manifesting themselves to her now, and why were they beginning with a time that brought the most pain to her heart?

A figure stood at the far corner of the field. Their face, shadowed, their appearance, homely. An unconscious attempt to raise her hand towards them caused the shadowy figure to turn away.

“Wait… Who are you?”

”Sierra my dear…”

A voice was breaking her concentration. The connection with her past wavered, and her vision became hazy.

This inquiry prompted the figure to flee from the child. Left along in the field, she dropped to her knees, her palms coming up to cup her face as tears threatened to drop.

“Nobody’s… Nobody’s here for me…”

”I’m quite happy to see you too…”

A voice tried to bring her back to life.

This realization dawned on Sierra. She was alone… She was always alone… This brought unrelenting sobs to the child as she wept openly to the world that cared not for her.


“I’m all alone!”

Her final call was her awakening.

Sierra just now realized she had been dreaming. No, reminiscing. Reminiscing on a time that didn’t happen, or shouldn’t have.

Blood from her hand that fell flat onto the flat surface that was Erthys’ chest was the sound that brought her back. That and the mixed tones of her own heavy breathing as well as his. Clutching the shard of glass so tight had caused a small tear along her palm. Blood’s liberation found salvation on the freedom of Erthys’ chest before soaking into the scientific clothing he bore.

She backed off of him, staggering to her feet as her grip on the glass shard had all together let go, disarming herself in an instant. Her hands reached for the sides of her head, clawing at her temples to lighten the headache. She tried to reach deep into her mind for those memories so that she may have them again. But no matter how much she scraped at her skin, leaving thin nicks and scuffs along the sides of her temples and trailing up into her hair, she couldn’t catch those memories.

After renouncing the thought of trying to catch old songs in her head with a butterfly net, she pressed her palm to her forehead and began to realize exactly what she had done. Blood smeared across her crown, trailing down the bridge of her nose and stopping at the top of her lips.

She always played with her upper lip whenever she was anxious. And Gods was she nervous. She had almost killed one of her own!

“I’m… I-…” She could barely force the words from her lips. A form of apology of any sorts had been beaten out of her during years of training. “Gods… I…” She choked on her words, unable to force them between pursed lips. “I’m…”

Swiftly rattling her head, she shook the thoughts from her mind. An apology? She’d never apologize. They couldn’t. With a heavy sigh, Sierra took a few steps back and pressed her right palm to her forehead to recollect her thoughts. Painting abstract art across the canvas of her brow with blood as her material, she began to piece things together. Death... Death by her own mental prowess… Awakening… An awakening of memories from a past she was meant to forget… And a new death, one that she was able to prevent before going too far.

After an analytical overview, Sierra recognized the man before her as Erthys. She had seen him plenty times in the recreational area, however most often than not she kept her distance from him. He was one of the more cocky of the Destrillians, and unafraid to show the Doctors what he could do with his abilities. A show off, or a fool? She felt that by exposing his potential as he had, he was vulnerable all the same. But perhaps there was more to the man before her than met the eyes. He had, after all, brought her back to life before she took his.

Erthys was quick with his mind however. He had managed to scrounge some clothing from the doctors, which was something she should have done before scorching their bodies with her eternal flames. She had none, and she stood before Erthys proving that fact; a primeval animal on the verge for blood lust.

She raised her hands to her chest and hesitated. She had forgotten everything about shame… Of indignity and humiliation. True they were covered when interacting with the others, but she didn’t understand the difference between then and now.

“Erthys… We have to stand together and find the others. No matter where they are in this hellhole, we can’t allow ourselves to be broken. Our spirits must stand strong, and we stand stronger together.”

She took a few steps opposite of Erthys, the way he had been going before she attacked him. Her headache reoccurred and she was forced to pause and press her adrenaline-tingled fingers to her forehead. “No more pain…” She muttered to herself before pressing onward, knowing that Erthys wouldn’t hesitate to stay in their two man group.
 
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Shadow Rogue

Pro Adventurer
AKA
If you see me you'd know.
The metal door rolled out of the way to reveal the wild-haired destrillian. He cautiously leaned out to peer around the hallway, sweeping his gaze from one side to the other. He had waited a long time to see if any more would come. Maybe to explain what happened. Eydin knows he can go wild sometimes, and his memory isn't what it used to be... or what it was suppose to be. The more Eydin thought about it, the more of a headache he had. Slapping a palm to his forehead he groaned.


“Don't think about that right now. You can just run out of here, leave everyone behind, and figure it out later.”

Eydin paused for a moment, considering his plan.

“But what if I never find out? What if I'm running from the only place that knows anything about me?”

Eydin closed his eyes and sighed, before stepping out of the door, holding his hands behind his head. He looked down the corridors and decided to choose left, pivoting on the ball of his bear foot.


“Man it's eerily quiet. Maybe it's a trap. I know there's still a few suck ups who might be working with these guys.”


He started to casually stroll down the hallway, looking around with amazement.

“It looks so different not on a schedule, escorted around, hooked up to a thousand wires. I actually feel... decent.” Eydin blinked, then looked down at himself.

“Oh wait, I'm not...”

His blue eyes raised back up to see two guards with their eyes already upon him. “Look! There's one, and he's surrendering!”


I am? Eydin waggled his elbows as he left his hands on the back of his head. Eydin's placid face suddenly went twisted in anguish.

“Ah, my head guys! It's about to explode! I'll do anything, just give me some of that feel good stuff!” He whined while twisting around in anguish.


The guards approached cautiously, a slender younger one up front holding a baton while an older, unevenly shaven one held the back with a compact machine gun. “Get on your knees and we'll take you .”


Eydin focused what little attention he had, concentrating on the two guards infront of him. He searched over the miasma of thoughts and feelings they possessed.

Confidence; Assertiveness; Dominance... Revenge...? I see what time of day it is.

Eydin complied rather dramatically, falling to his knees with a thud as he bowed his head. “Anything, my heads about to split apart! Please!” He groveled as they neared.

A little closer... almost... He kept an eye open, watching their boots approach him.

“It will be over soon.” The younger guard spoke with growing malice, starting to raise his club over his head.

“...I know.” The winding streaks in Eydin's eyes flashed as he lept forward, reaching out for their ankles. The older guard aimed downward and shot bursts along Eydin's side, eating through the floor. The destrillian could feel the subtle air pressure whizzing off each bullet as they twirled in mid air, but the aim wasn't anything to worry about. With a burst of air, Eydin pulled their feet out from under the pair of guards, holding them by a foot in each hand. They yelped in unison before their heavy bodies hit the ground; however, their trip had only begun. Eydin yanked them upside-down as he rose into the air, looking at the ceiling, wild blonde hair tossing around his scalp. He grunted before leaning his body backward, a blast of air pushing at his feet to rotate everyone. The guards, still dazed could only watch the ceiling whip toward their face as Eydin landed upside down, slamming the guards' head into the metal cover with a sickening crack. His feet sucked against the ceiling while his hair hung loosely in his inverted position. It felt good to employ all the techniques he made in a real situation.

“Newton said it best, what goes up...” Eydin spoke as the guards' bodies start to fall victim to gravity and feel away from the indention their skulls made. Eydin's thin frame slung the guards down the hallway, spinning them like ragdolls in the air, “Must come down!” He relented his grip upon the ceiling and rolled in mid air before locking his eyes upon the still airborne targets. With a wave of air pressure, the guards took the brunt of the force and were sent in a direct line into the end of the corridor, their bodies smashing deep gouges into the metal as their bones cracked. They slide lifelessly out of the pocket they created into a pile.


Eydin unceremoniously landed on his bottom. He paused to take in the sensation before jumping to his feet with a cry. “Aah man that's cold!” He cupped himself and began to console his tender assaulted bits before strolling over to the crumpled defenders. “Sorry guys, I tried to go easy on you, you're a little too fragile to be in this business, y'know?” He stated without remorse. “But thanks for the clothes. I don't need frost bite when I decide to sit down...” He began to undress the younger guard, and soon slipped on his outfit, even though it still hung loosely.

“Ah, he even remembered protection.” Eydin smiled, tapping the vest on his chest.

“Now... Do I call out to them, or do I go it alone, and let them gain all the attention...”

Eydin blinked. “But I love attention, they can't have it all!”

His eyes followed the two dead bodies and the weapons they clutched so tightly after their rough treatment.

“But then again, this is bad pew pew pow pow ow ow attention...”

Eydin's face relaxed, his eyes glazing over a little. “But then they might be in the same position I am; not knowing whats going on with anything. I guess I'll have to help them.” He said with mock irritation. “Ruining my plans for a solo escape of epic proportions...”

“Alright...”

<Is there anybody out there? I'm out here by my... bedroom, anyone near by?> Eydin called out with the concentration he could muster.
 
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Tennyo

Higher Further Faster
-Three years ago-​

The halls of basement level five were fairly quiet that night. The assistants and nurses had just finished their hourly rounds and would not be due back in this area for quite some time. If there were ever a good time to act, it would be now.

All the lights were off, the only source now being the faint glow of the screen attached to the cryogenic sleeping pod in the center of the room upon which the vital stats of the girl occupying it were displayed.

193713-01
Destrillian Prototype # 000-000-008
Emma Marie Johnson
Vacker Påsklilja
Sub-outlet 4222a
Age: 16 years: 3 months: 5 days: 1 hours: 31 minutes: 42 seconds
Hyper-rest 20 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 5
Dr. Natasha Nedews ext. 11
Log: 20



“Emma. Emma dear. Wake up, please!” came the awkward tones of the female scientist’s accent. Emma slowly came into consciousness at the urging of her guardian.

‘Cause that’s what she was; my guardian.


“Na…Natasha? Where am I?”
She couldn’t feel the familiar slime that consisted of the inside of her pod. Instead she was stretched out upon something hard, and cold. Boy was it ever cold. Was she lying on the floor?

Gentle hands hurriedly made their way all over her body, the ruff, starchy texture of a towel dragging beneath them. “There we go, all clean now. Come on, get up now my darling. We need to be hurrying.”

Emma had the slight sensation of something looping under each arm and gingerly pulling her up. First to a sitting position and then, as something larger and warm pressed up against her her, to her feet. She opened her eyes a tiny crack to see Natasha standing next to her, supporting the girl with an arm around the waist.

“What’s happening, Natasha?”
the teenage girl mumbled sleepily to her only friend. She felt herself being lowered into a chair.

Dr. Nedews hurriedly wrapped a yellow robe, her approved recreation room attire, around her charge. As she placed the girl’s arms through the sleeves and tied it tight she replied, “Well…we have a test. Yes, we are going to have a special test tonight.”

Young blue eyes looked up into the much older pair of her assigned scientist’s. “What kind of test?”

The woman smiled. “It is a surprise. Don’t you be worrying about it, okay? I am sure you will do very well. Can you stand?”

It took a bit of stumbling and teetering, but Emma was able to stand up. Natasha hurriedly finished fastening the ties on the robe then quickly began folding the bottom up and the sleeves back. After turning and grabbing a white heap of cloth off of a second chair in the room, she put it around the young specimen’s shoulders, revealing it to be a lab coat identical to hers.

“What’s with this?” Emma asked.

Natasha smiled. “All part of the test. Come now, let us be going.”

When I look back now three years later I finally realize what she was trying to do. I wish she had told me then, though. Maybe things would be different now…

The older woman led the young girl out into the dark corridor. She pulled her to the left, which Emma found to be rather strange since to get to the testing facilities they normally had to go right. But she didn’t bother asking, she was far too tired. Besides, Natasha was leading the way, so there was probably a very good reason.

They continued on in the darkness slowly, the scientist pulling her this way and that, as if she were trying to avoid something. Emma found herself wondering if they were trying to run away from something, but Natasha would only hush her. As they went, Emma could sense the life energy of her fellow Destrillians in their own cryogenic pods. All of them were asleep. Emma found herself wishing she could be, too, since the sedatives had not yet worn off, but she pushed herself along with her companion nevertheless.

There was a staircase. Up and up they went, a few moments pausing just out of sight of a security camera waiting for it to rotate away.

“What are we doing, anyway?” she asked.

“It is all part of the test. Now hush.”

Emma felt her strength slowly return to her as the two made their way up each flight of stairs. In a very backwards sort of way that almost made her chuckle, she actually found each step to be easier than the last. Finally when they reached the top the effects of being awaken from her sleep prematurely faded completely as they stopped so that Dr. Nedews could have a rest.

After slowly opening the door at the top of the stairs and peaking out into the darkness for a good minute the scientist grabbed the girl’s hand and quickly pulled her through. The two women ran silently as they could on tiptoes through the darkness of a large room. Emma spotted white letters on a sign that read, “Lobby. Visitor Information Center. Tour Sign Up.” She had never seen such a place before. She had so many questions now, but she dared not speak.

Through another door, down another dark corridor, then a smaller door, on and on they went. Eventually they came to the end of a small, narrow hallway. Natasha slowly pushed the door open and look around outside. She then reached in, took Emma by the hand again, and pulled her out.

When the door shut Emma found that she was in a strange place she had no memory of. The air smelled fresh here, and a cool breeze blew across the skin of her face, causing her hair to billow out behind her. She felt a cold, tickling sensation at her feet.

“Grass?”

“Yes, dear. Grass. You are outside.”


Emma turned her face to stare at her friend and mentor. At first she didn’t know what to say, then after a moment asked, “Have I… have I been outside before? Before my first memory here?”

Natasha smiled and gently squeezed her arms on either side. “Yes, Emma, yes you have. Do you remember it?”

Emma paused for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. “Dry. Dry fields. The farmers were loosing everything. Then suddenly…they grew.”

“Yes, yes!”

“Because of me. They grew because of me.”

“Yes Emma, you did it!”

“But… a bus. THE bus. Oh…it crashed. Natasha it crashed! So many people. Some dead, some not!” Emma said frantically, becoming so upset she almost fell to her knees.

“Not here, not here, child. We must hide first. Come!”

Natasha pulled the girl’s arm around her neck and dragged her away from the side door of the building and across the lawn. They didn’t have far to go before they reached a thickly wooded area that would serve as a good shelter for them. Further and further into the trees they went, until Emma slumped completely against the scientist’s side, holding her head in pain.

“No no no that’s not right! That’s not right! I was born here; I was made here! These memories aren’t real! They aren’t mine!” she screamed, thrashing about wildly on the ground.

“No, Emma, no! Shh! You must be silent! Hang on I will get you some distrum.”

Natasha opened a shoulder bag she had wrapped around her and began to dig through it as fast as she could. She fumbled in the darkness with a needle and bottle, filling the former with healing liquid that would help to ease the girl’s suffering.

When the distrum was injected into her neck Emma began to feel relief. She lay in the foliage of the plants that dotted the forest floor, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath.

“Natasha help me. What are all these things I’m seeing?” she sobbed.

The woman bent down and cupped her hands around the trembling girls face, stroking her smooth, freckled skin in comfort.

“Oh my child, if I had known that this would happen I would have done this differently.”

“How could these things possibly be real? How could I have forgotten this feeling, Natasha? Everything is different here. So much life, but no emotions, and everything is simple. It’s so peaceful.”

“Yes, it is. Even normal people like me feel it.”


“Are we going to stay out here forever? I don’t think I could stand being back inside. Not after this.”

“Not here, but elsewhere.”

“These visions, they’re all memories?”

“Yes.”

“Can we go to those places, too?”

“Of course, anywhere.”

“Will the others be coming, too?”

“Well…”

“What about the test? Did I pass?”

“It is not quite over yet, but you are doing very well so far. If you pass we can go anywhere you want.“

Emma smiled. “That’s good. Are we almost done?”

“Eh, we have a little ways to go yet. Come on, we should be getting going.”

Natasha helped Emma stand and together they continued walking through the woods. Emma delighted in each new feeling, each new sound. She grabbed a twig off of a crab apple tree and caused it to bloom with beautiful pink flowers despite it being the middle of the summer, long past the time of the year for this tree to be budding.

“You really are an amazing person, you know that, Emma? Someone like you, with your abilities, deserves so much better than Viola.”

“So I can make more plants grow?”

“More than that.”

“You mean the mice?”

“Yes.”

Natasha had had a theory about Emma, and to test that she had purchased a few albino mice with which to test her. The female scientist would place a certain number of mice in a box, then ask Emma to guess how many were in there. She got the answer right every time.

To add to this, one day when the two entered the testing room, Emma cried out in despair. One of the mice was dieing, she said, without even crossing the room to look at them first. Natasha had taken the mouse in question out of its cage and sure enough, it was badly wounded. It must have somehow gotten caught on its wheel during the night. Emma took the poor thing in her hand and held it while stroking its fur gently. Natasha had said there was nothing to be done that could save the mouse besides make it feel comfortable and safe. In the middle of one of their tests Emma suddenly gave a start, then looked sadly down at the mouse in her hands before informing her friend that it had died.

“Emma, how many trees do you think are in these woods”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never been surrounded by so many trees before. There’s so much life energy that I don’t know where to start counting. But there’s got to be over a thousand at least.”

Natasha nodded her head. “That would probably be a good guess.”

Emma suddenly stopped walking. “But there are fifteen humans a good twenty feet behind us. All men.”

Dr. Nedews had stopped walking as well and looked at her charge with wide, frightened eyes.

The young girl looked at her quizzically. “Is there something wrong?”

“You need to run, Emma. Run as fast as you can. Do not let anyway find you out here.”

“But why? Is this part of the test?”

“Yes! Now go!”

If I had known what was really happening that night I would have been frightened out of my mind. I may have panicked and not been able to act. Perhaps that’s why Natasha made me believe it was only a test. I hate myself for being so fragile.

At once Emma took off running at top speed. Tree roots and other things cut at her feet as she ran along but she did not slow down. If this were all part of the test then she would make sure she would pass. Failing a test was never good, or so she had learned the hard way a few times when she was younger.

She hadn’t gotten far, however, when the sensation of a group of people ahead of her caught her attention. Emma turned to make an evasive maneuver but it was already too late. She could hear them shouting through the trees that they had spotted her.

“Oh great. Way to fail, Emma,” she scolded herself.

Using her abilities she made the line of trees separating them to suddenly sprout new branches and foliage in an attempt to block their progress. However there were more guards closing in on either side of her and already she could feel a slight pain in her head from the exertion.

Emma turned and ran back the way she had come. Perhaps she could squeeze through that way. Maybe the troops wouldn’t expect her to backtrack. It was to no avail, however, as she felt even more close in on her from the darkness. She tried as best she could to block their path with even more extra branches but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep this up without her head exploding. This would require hand-to-hand combat, and it was a not minute later that it began.

A group of ten soldiers came out of the darkness and attacked her head on. A few of them charged and a few of them took aim and fired tranquilizers in her direction. A fern instantly grew to three times its normal size and slowed down the darts in their leaves, giving Emma a chance to dodge. She jumped out from behind it and swung at her pursuers with all her might, connecting a fist here, a foot there, blow after blow the fight raged on.

However these were not the normal sparring partners from the training area. No, these soldiers were faster and far more powerful than anyone she had ever fought against. She was still better due to her heightened Destrillian abilities, but not by much. It was with much effort that she flipped the last of them over her and took off into the darkness of the forest again, trying to come up with a way to escape. But by this time her head was pounding so hard that she was finding it difficult to concentrate. Another wave of troops came at her, and she found herself outmatched. There were just too many for her to take on alone.

She stood panting as the group circled her, aiming their guns at the ready. But Emma was determined to pass this test, and so she put up her fists and took an offensive fighting stance. It was then that she heard Natasha scream.

Emma cast out her senses in all directions, and locked on to the life energy that was unique to her friend. Natasha was under attack, too? What were they doing? Or maybe something had gone wrong? Emma was determined to get back to her.

“Out of my way! Didn’t you hear that? Natasha’s in trouble, something’s gone wrong with the test!” she shouted at the soldiers.

“Test?” one of them asked. A few of them echoed his laughter.

The leader of the group stood thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “Oh of course. Yes, yes, this is just a test, isn’t it? But we can’t let you get back to the doctor.”

“Well why not? Tests aren’t supposed to actually endanger life! What if something went wrong? We have to help her!”


“Screw this shit. Let’s just kill them all!”

“Murphy shut your trap.”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY?!”
Emma was simply livid. She could sense Natasha’s distress, and none of these men were taking her seriously. If they weren’t going to let her go back to her guardian, then she would make them.

I should never have allowed myself to get so out of control. Never.

The soldiers didn’t noticed at first how the trees seemed to be looming in on them, not until one of them looked up above the heads of those across the circle from them.

“Holy shi…!”

Branches flew down from above and brandished themselves like fists. They swung this way and that, swatting away the troops like flies. Emma slowly walked out of the circle and continued on through the woods. More soldiers came at her from every which way, but they were no mach from the plants that attacked them. All around the trees grew taller and their branches grew longer, the foliage of the forest floor doubled and tripled in size, grabbing at the ankles of the girl’s would be captures.

When Emma reached the place where Natasha was she was a fearsome site to behold. Vines twisted all around her, and the plants were growing to prehistoric sizes. The soldiers that were standing over Natasha looked up at her in fright. They recklessly shot off their guns, but to no avail. Each dart was wasted in the limbs of a tree that had swung down in their way.

The men backed off slowly, leaving Natasha where she lay. The woman slowly pushed herself up onto her hands and looked at her beloved girl in horror. Not out of fear for her own life, but out of fear of what would happen now that the girl had displayed such power.

“Natasha?”

“No Emma. Emma, stop!”

As if in obedience all the plants in the forest that had been responding to her command quieted, and Emma collapsed to the ground, convulsing and shaking in a fit of seizure.

Darkness over came Emma then. She swam in and out of consciousness, but wasn’t aware of anything going on around her. She felt the comforting touch of Natasha’s arms as the woman held her and the gentles of the sweet, accented voice as it tried to calm her and bring her back to reality. Then, a presence, and Natasha looked up and gasped.

“Thomas!”

“Did I pass the test, Natasha?” Emma asked feebly.

The woman looked down at her, but it was the new presence, a man, who answered.

“Yes, 008, I would say that you did.”


After that Emma knew no more.

I was unconscious for an entire week after that. When I awoke they all told me that Natasha had been assigned to a new project and would not be coming back. I kept asking and asking but no one would tell me anything other than that. The new scientist assigned to me was a guy named Dr. Thomas. He is much more formal than Natasha and never calls me by name. Very rude.

I would give anything to be able to see Natasha again, though. To ask her why she would just leave me without saying goodbye…


-Now-​

The room was silent, not a single sound was to be heard other than the low buzzing of the machines.

All the lights were off, the only source now being the faint glow of the screen attached to the cryogenic sleeping pod in the center of the room upon which the vital stats of the girl occupying it were displayed.

193713-01
Destrillian Prototype # 000-000-008
Emma Marie Johnson
Secret Garden
Sub-outlet 4222a
Age: 19 years: 2 months: 4 days: 1 hours: 51 minutes: 45 seconds
Hyper-rest 20 mode
Normal RAM
Life Level 8
Dr. Jeffery Thomas ext. 7
Log: 20


There came a woman’s voice…

“Alright, Emma, now how many mice can you sense?”

“Three?”

“Yes! Yes! Right again!“


Natasha? Oh Natasha how I’ve missed you. The mice were always my favorite. You let me play with them, and I loved the feeling of their soft fur on my face.

Then a man’s voice…

“How many mice are in the box, 008?”

“I dunno, four?”

“No, seven. Are you even trying?”

“…”


“I don’t like your attitude.”


I hate Dr. Thomas. He’s mean, and he took my seeds away. He doesn’t let me play with the mice, either. He even changed my code name. Most of all he always insults Natasha when I mention her. I’ve learned to just not talk about anything around him.

“Give me the seed, 008. Subjects are not allowed to have any possessions. You should have never been allowed to keep one anyway.”

“But Natasha thought it would be important to my growth to always keep one.”

“Well judging by how poorly you’ve been doing on your tests lately I’d say that it isn’t helping you.”

“Fine, it’s a bad seed anyway. The plant wouldn’t have lived long.”

“And how is it that you know that?”

“Well I…”


Natasha said not to tell anyone. They all think that my only gift is to control plants. That’s how it needs to stay.

“It’s hard to manipulate. I’ve been doing this for years. I’ve just noticed a trend, that’s all.”


“A trend, huh? That’s all this is, 008?”


“Uh…yeah. Yeah that’s right. Plants that are hard to manipulate usually die soon. I don’t know why that is.”


I don’t think he believed me. He had given up on the mice tests a while back, but he suddenly wanted to do one a few days later. When I didn’t cooperate and answer the questions correctly, he killed one behind the box where I couldn’t see what he was doing, just to see my reaction. After that I learned to expect anything from him, and that I needed to guard my emotions. But he had already seen my reaction. He knew I felt it…

“My comrades… For far too long we have been slaves… Pawns in this twisted game of chess… Now is our time… to awaken.”

Sierra?

Error in Section 3
Recording
Alerting staff


“Sir, what do you think this means?


“She’s waking up, just like the others. Pump more sedatives into her. I’ll call Dr. Thomas. I think he should still be here.”

Emma slowly began to open her eyes, only to find them assaulted by the stinging goop of her cryogenic pod. She quickly shut them again, but the movements of her body had gotten the attention of the two assistants in the room. She could hear them scuffling about and the worry in their voices. Most of all, she could feel their fear.

“HURRY UP! SHE’S MOVING!”

“Oh man… Dr. Thomas! Yeah, yeah, you’ve heard? You’re still here? Good. Yeah, she’s waking, too. Please, hurry!”

“What did he say?”

“He’s on his way here with a security team. He doesn’t think Emma will be a problem, though.”

“That’s good.”

Something was happening, but Emma had no idea what that was. She had been dreaming just now; dreaming of past events. Images of things she had no memory of also swam through her head. There were people outside her room, all running around frantically. There was so much fear; it was a bit daunting for the poor girl’s senses. And then she felt a slight tug in her chest a sickening twist in her stomach.

Someone had died.

No, a lot of people were dieing.

Her eyes shot open as she let out a scream. She hated the feeling of something dieing. Her memories of a dead, mutilated mouse being dropped on the table in front of her as she looked on in horror came to mind. But these weren’t just simple mice for lab usage. No, these were humans. Humans with lives and families working day to day just for a paycheck.

The young woman twisted and screamed aloud in her pod, pulling tubes and needles from her flesh as she did so. She felt herself going off into a panic and lost all control of her functions.

So much death. Too much. The screaming, the fear, the pain…

“STOP! STOP PLEASE!”
she screamed. One of the assistants turned the intercom on the pod off, but they could still hear the faint sounds of her screams permeating through the liquid and glass.

The was a beep as someone slid their key card through the slot just outside the door and it was thrown open wide as a group of scientists and guards came in. One scientist in particular, a man with brown hair and glasses, rushed up to the two assistants to asses the situation.

“What’s happening here? What are her vitals?”

“Her body temperature has risen 2.4 degrees and her heart rate has… simply skyrocketed, sir. Her neurological chart has gone off the wall, sir. We can’t even sedate her without opening the pod because she’s ripped everything out. I think she’s going crazy,” one of the assistants answered.

The other one spoke up meekly as Dr. Thomas approached the cryogenic pod. “Sir, is it true? Are they all out of control?”

The older man paused as he looked down at his precious specimen, writing in agony within the clear gel that encased her, holding her head and screaming.

“The others, yes. You may leave if you wish. Security will protect you.”

“Doctor Thomas, I have strict orders to get you and your team out of here, sir. When they go you go. We will use force if necessary.”

With a sigh the scientist quickly typed a few keys on the control panel and the gel began to empty out of the pod.

“Quick, get me some distrum!”

“May I ask what you are doing, sir?” asked one of the guards.

“I’m just going to open the pod and quickly sedate her. She’s in agony.”

The head security guard quickly raised his rifle. “You let that thing out and I will order my men to kill her.”

Dr. Thomas quickly swung around to glare at the man. “I’m not letting her out, I’m only opening the cryogenic pod long enough to sedate her. She’ll sleep until this is all over.”

“I can’t allow you to do that, sir, too risky.”


“008 won’t attack me. It’s not in her nature.”

“A person always thinks a dog won’t bite until they get bit. Now move away from the pod and lets get out of here!”


The two men stared at each other, yet one had a rifle in his hand, and the other a pistol in a side harness that he’d never be able to reach in time, especially with three other guards to cover the first. With a sigh Dr. Thomas looked back at the girl in the now empty glass enclosure. She was now pressing against her encasing with her hands and legs, shaking her head wildly. She would hurt herself if something were not done.

He pressed the button for the intercom. “008? 008 stop, you’ll hurt yourself!”

“No no no make it stop!” she cried.

“008 please listen to me, this is important!”


“Nononononononono…”

“EMMA!”

The girl gave a start and then looked up at the man with teary eyes. “Please make it stop.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I can’t open the pod and you’ve ripped all of your tubes out.”

“I can feel them all dieing…”


“I know you can. Despite how hard you’ve tried to hide it from me I know you can. But for now you are just going to have to deal with it.”

“No! Don’t make me please don’t make me!”

There came a loud noise from the corridor outside the room. A scream could be heard from somewhere far off in the bottom basement level.

“Doctor Thomas, wrap this up. We’ve got to go, now!”

“No don’t leave me, please Doctor Thomas!”

“008, Emma, please listen to me. I can’t let you out. You’ll be killed if I let you out. Your fellow Destrillians cannot be trusted, and security or the army or whomever is sent down here to clean this mess certainly will. That’s why you have to stay in your pod. If you…”

“You’re abandoning me?!” Emma’s voice was frantic.

“No, never, I’m just leaving you where you will be safe. We are sealing the room. No one will get in. When this is over I will come back for you I promise! Leave your oxygen mask on and stay still. It will be over soon I promise.”

“No please, let me out!” she pleaded, pounding on the glass with all her might.

The doctor turned from the pod and began to walk away.

Emma became frantic and started kicking and screaming and punching at the glass as hard as she could. “No no no how can you do this to me?!”

“You’re too precious of a specimen to loose, if both my and Doctor Nedews’ theories are correct,” he said.

“Natasha?” the girl asked, piqued and yet calmed by this name.

Jeffery Thomas stopped and half turned his head back toward her. “Yes. If you ever want to see Natasha again, stay in the pod.”

With that he swiftly walked across the room along with his assistants, the few other scientists that came in, and the guards. Emma watched with horror as they made their way out and the door shut. She reached out with all her energy and tracked their life forces as far as she could. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized they must have reached the elevator and gone up. At least if they died she wouldn’t have to feel it. Yet, this also meant that she was alone down here.

She lost control of her emotions then and began to sob uncontrollably. She had no idea what was going on outside of her room, and she was terrified of it. She had also never been awake while trapped in her pod before, and she was beginning to feel claustrophobic.

“Please, please someone let me out. Anyone? Oh Natasha I wish you were here with me…”


Then she paused as a thought crossed her mind. Certainly if one could enter her head she could call them back, right?

“Sierra? Can you hear me? Tell the others I’m trapped!”

Emma crossed her fingers, hoping it would work.
 
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Alessa Gillespie

a letter to my future self
AKA
Sansa Stark, Sweet Bro, Feferi, tentacleTherapist, Nin, Aki, Catwoman, Shinjiro Aragaki, Terezi, Princess Bubblegum
Walking

floating

down the halls, hand in hand with no one. However, something seemed to fade from the girl&#8217;s mind as she approached a man and a woman, man pinned to the floor with the woman on top.

Oh, I shouldn&#8217;t watch this, no, no.

She dropped the arm she had been carrying as a weapon, pulling the lab coat closer to her body and covering her eyes. Did she know those people? Didn&#8217;t she? The memories had to slog through the tranquilizer soup of liquid before they could approach the thinking part of her brain. Didn&#8217;t she&#8230;?

&#8220;Erthys&#8230; We have to stand together and find the others. No matter where they are in this hellhole, we can&#8217;t allow ourselves to be broken. Our spirits must stand strong, and we stand stronger together.&#8221;


Oh, yes, she was sure she knew them. (Right? She had to have known them). What were their names again? Something like a snake, slithering on her tongue. S&#8230;sera? Sana? Sienna? No, those weren&#8217;t right. Wasn&#8217;t it something with an &#8216;r&#8217; sound? Si&#8230;rr&#8230;a? No, that wasn&#8217;t quite right either.

Sierra.

That&#8217;s her name.

And the other one, hadn&#8217;t she seen him? But his name was hard to remember, murky in her mind, she mostly only remembered Sierra&#8217;s name since something about her had struck her as interesting. Why couldn&#8217;t she think back and recall what his name could have been? Something with an &#8216;a&#8217;? Or was it an &#8216;e&#8217;? It was an &#8216;e&#8217;, wasn&#8217;t it?

&#8220;Erthys,&#8221; a little voice in her head told her.


Slug-like, the memories that were not memories flowed into her head. Memories (or maybe they weren&#8217;t) of a childhood (or maybe it wasn&#8217;t) that was long ago and far away, inviting her into more blind delusions.

A memory of a time when she was young, when she was scared, popped into her head, her friend taken away. Everything was seen through a dirty cokebottle, with her feeling rather old among all of the other children. Or was she? She was always small, maybe they had made a mistake when kidnapping her.

Through the dirty glass lens of her broken eyes, she could see a little girl, a little boy, maybe a lot, maybe just one each. No one was different or remarkable, and most everyone was scared. Couldn&#8217;t she go home? She wanted to go home. Now she didn&#8217;t even have those glasses that Papa had given her, surely her brother would take her back.

She stood up, ready to leave that place, ready to go home. But something happened, something had hurt her, and she became suddenly dizzy.


She suddenly cried out for help
(Or maybe that was a lie) the scientists arriving from every angle. &#8220;This is for your own good,&#8221; &#8220;You&#8217;re our special girl, why would we want to hurt you?&#8221; &#8220;please be a good girl for US&#8221;

&#8220;if YOU leave WE&#8217;LL tear out YOUr eyes and laugh about it as we skin YOU&#8221;


I am dizzy, I am sick I&#8217;m going to die, please help me make them go away. Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod. My head hurts.

She clutched her head, not wanting to remember or misremember or whatever the hell her head was doing to her. She just wanted it all to stop.

&#8220;No more pain&#8230;&#8221;


That sounded lovely, Terra thought, blinking her eyes sleepily. She stumbled over to the pair, tugging the bloody lab coat closed, opening and closing her mouth. The words would not come to her, her mouth gaping like a fish on land. Finally, she took a gulp of air and closed her eyes. Wasn&#8217;t there another way to talk? She could try to talk to them like she talked to her glasses. Forming their shapes clearly in her head, she shouted at them in her mind.

&#8220;HELLO!&#8221;

Her head rather hurt from the strain of saying it, closing her eyes and rubbing them. Did they hear her? It was hard to tell. She held the lab coat close to her skin, as damp with blood and sweat as it was, and stared at the two, hoping for a response.
 

Hisako

&#28040;&#12360;&#12394;&#12356;&#12402;&#12373;&#
AKA
Satsu, BRIAN BLESSED, MIGHTY AND WISE Junpei Iori: Ace Detective, Maccaffrickstonson von Lichtenstafford Frabenschnaben, Polite Krogan, Robert Baratheon
&#8220;Erthys&#8230; We have to stand together and find the others. No matter where they are in this hellhole, we can&#8217;t allow ourselves to be broken. Our spirits must stand strong, and we stand stronger together.&#8221;

Erthys let her compose herself, absent-mindedly making hand gestures as if to dust himself off. He ran his own little psychological profile on her. Sierra, her name. The one with the longest time spent cooped up in this facility, even longer than Erthys himself. Not a person that spent much quality time with anyone.
Yet, a seed of leadership floating in an ocean of helplessness and panic. Poor thing broke out too early. I suppose we can work with this, though.

"No more pain..."

Erthys sighed, noticing Sierra's headache. He followed her as she paused and walked onwards, catching up to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, feeling underlying muscle tense momentarily as she stopped.

He traced a line with his thumb, moving it up from the lump that he was told was the "cervical vertebrae". The electrostatic charges from his skin jumped across as he moved to the back of her head, the base of her skull. He had tried the on himself once, and found it not unpleasant.

He had no idea if it was working on Sierra or not, but moved his hand anyway, laying his palm flat against the side of her head, just above the temple. Minute jolts of electricity pulsed, probing for a source of the pain.

No luck.
He searched a little further, trying to target something a little more soothing with his pinky finger resting on her temples, moving closer and leaning forwards until his head was an inch away from her ear.

Haven't seen her from this angle either.

He found a spot, but he couldn't tell if his attempts had any effect. He moved his hands over her shoulders, every square inch of her skin goosebumps (Erthys not really helping with that because of some inherent electrostatic charge), not really noticing anymore whether Sierra was tensing her muscles or not.

"HELLO!"

"Holy exclamation, what was th-" Erthys broke the stifling silence, turning around with his tilted head, looking at the short green-haired mess of a Destrillian standing there rubbing her eyes from the effort of pretty much blasting the welcome across all their minds.

Erthys' small smile twisted itself to one side of his face again as he observed the labcoat wrapped around her like a security blanket, covered in grime and blood.

"Well, here's another one of us here, Sierra, my dear. She seems just as enthusiastic as you are."

He paused, looking her up and down while pulling out a name and a profile in his mind. Terra. Strange individual. Strange attachments, but a good listener. Clings onto hell-knows-what.

He offered a handshake, but wondered if the woman in front of her would take it, who was still standing there, quivering ever so slightly in the mottled-red labcoat. "You need some help there, Terra?"
 

Baldy

000 - 000 - 009
AKA
Sienna, Jenovas-Fifth, Idris
A little bit of exposition never hurt anybody; even vague explanations, riddled with mystery, could still be helpful. And yet there were certain things in this world that didn't need to be explained, because they were just about as self-explanatory as it got.

These were the thoughts in the head of Destrillian 009 as she picked her way to the smoking craters in the wall just up ahead. There was nobody she could see, for the moment, except for a second dead body – or what was left of it – lying facedown a ways away from the great fissures in the whitewashed metal.

Well, a fellow Destrillian was definitely in the area. Nobody else could have gouged such holes in solid walls—and with human projectiles, at that. Idris clicked her tongue in distaste, and glanced back at the body which had been flung her way. That needed a bit more explanation; how had a soldier, usually dangerous to some degree but in this case harmless, as it was freshly dead, come to move by its own volition?
The aforementioned exposition came to the young woman now in the form of a miniature explosion.

There were a few seconds of warning time: a fire suddenly caught inside one of the holes in the wall and just as Idris leapt back, hands up protectively, the blast shot from the wall like a horizontal geyser of fire. She could feel the heat almost painfully close to her skin. When the flames died down, Idris looked at it all and uttered one word.

"Huh."
It really was a "huh" moment, for her. The circuitry in the wall had obviously been damaged from the impact these two soldiers had made on it, and in response it was discharging with time intervals in between. It must have been another explosion that had propelled the soldier into her in the first place. Phenomenon explained.

The only thing that was still puzzling Idris was, if a Destrillian had caused all this commotion, where had they gone? From personal experience, the girl knew how fast one of her kind could be – if the instigator of these holes in the wall had wanted to get away, they'd be long gone by now—

"Is there anybody out there? I'm out here by my... bedroom, anyone near by?"

—or perhaps, in this case, the Destrillian in question hadn't gone anywhere. The voice that had sounded so suddenly in her head felt close enough to touch; whoever it was, they were practically…

"…around the corner," Idris muttered aloud, smiling and shaking her head as she hopped over a broken fragment of human body, skirting the still-billowing smoke and rounding the corner of the corridor only to find that there was, indeed, a person there.

A person like she was.

The soldier's uniform didn't phase her for a moment; the body that had been flung at her had been naked for the most part, and she had already figured out most of her kind would be donning disguises as just another part of their grand escape. Speaking of disguises, and clothing in general… Idris hadn't got any. She was standing stark naked in the hallway, long used to the temperature and not even self-conscious enough to have really noticed up until now.
Well that realization's good for just about nothing, she chuckled internally, as a quick scan of her surroundings told her that there was no available clothing for her in sight. She was going to have to go it au naturelle.

Idris raised one slender hand in a sharp and yet laid-back salute; a lackadaisical smile quirked her lips as she made her approach. Stopping only a foot away from him, she had to crane her neck a bit to see eye-to-eye with the boy: he was a good few inches taller than she.
Speaking telepathically would do her nothing but bad – the headaches she sustained from inhibited abilities like her shield were tiny things, but she didn't want to push her luck as she hadn't found a single syringe of Distrum since her escape from her glass tube. So, she cleared her throat with an infinitesimal noise and then spoke.

"Good to see you're doing alright so far. Long time no see…"—a name sprang unbidden into her head, almost before she needed it—"…Eydin. I've seen you in the recreation room a couple times before. Name's Idris; pleasure's all mine."

He was a lanky thing; quite the feathery build, with the exception of his shoulders, the only part of him that even made an attempt at filling out the uniform he was wearing. His hair was blond and windswept and, to Idris' chagrined amusement, completely clean of any blood. She had been splashed with the stuff when she'd been hit by the human projectile minutes ago, and now the crimson liquid was mixed with the drying cryogenic fluid in her hair; it was all going to have to get washed out as soon as possible, as the feeling it left on her scalp was beginning to be worthy of some note. She pushed it out of her face again, back into its slicked-back mess, and offered her comrade a sly grin.

"What do you say to a double-team, mm?"

Idris didn't even have time to receive an answer – the grin was wiped from her face as she snapped her head to the side, focusing as hard as she could on the faint traces of telepathic power that had just come at her from somewhere close by. Like tuning into a radio station she caught the end of the message clearly:
"…others I'm trapped!"

There was a brief silence. At length, Idris looked back up at Eydin. Had he heard it too?
 

Sheva Alomar

I'm Alive and on Fire
AKA
Adri, Sir Integra, Fiona, Sango
Sweat and ooze had enveloped the Destrillian, giving her a strange and mottled metallic sheen as she began to pace down the stale, white corridors of the Viola facility. Sirens echoed throughout, alerting the pawns to the abrupt rebellion that was unraveling itself. Fiona knew that very soon she would have to deal with another wave of guards. Another obstacle. Regardless, she would just lay them to waste just as she had with the peons that tried to get in her way just several minutes ago—amusing herself all the while.

Heavy footsteps rapidly pounded down on the hard flooring as a small troop of guards made their way toward an intersection of halls that Fiona was simultaneously approaching. A malevolent grin spread across her face. She stealthily jogged to beat them to the crossing.

Now the real fun begins.

Fiona stopped just short of the area connecting all four corridors and pressed her shoulder against the wall.

Three.

Seven men raced toward her, unaware of the trap they were approaching.

Two.

The fiery Destrillian made sure to time her surprise just right.

One.

Just as the leader of the squad came into view, Fiona made her move. With an effortless leap, she went right for the first victim of this new brigade. What happened next was almost like a blur to the men following shortly behind. The fire manipulator had thrown a heavy fist at the grunt’s face from the side. Like a ragdoll his neck snapped instantly. A dull snap could then be heard as his head caved in where Fiona’s hand landed and his entire body met a corner of the walls. The guard’s body awkwardly slumped to the ground as blood oozed from the spots where bone was now visible.

Fiona quickly stood up from still crouching down on her prey and removed what was now a right hand covered in vermillion liquid. As she faced the fresh group of peons ready to take her down, the fire prototype swiftly swung her arm in front of her chest to allow some of the blood to splatter upon them. None of them moved from their offensive stances they had taken and only glared with a greater intensity than before. Guns and taser rods held firm, they were prepared for almost anything while keeping some distance.

“Hello, boys.”

Just then, a single round of applause erupted from behind the team of Violan grunts. Fiona’s face melted into mild confusion as she brought her attention to the back of the formation. No sooner did a small man--no taller than five feet--make his way towards the Destrillian with a look of amusement. He wore the attire of a scientist, but was decorated with a special badge on his pocket protector. His head was bald on the top with only hair still growing on the sides and lower back. Reading glasses rested upon a small nose that came to a point almost as prominent as a sword tip. His name was Dr. Finely Fringe. Physically he would appear to be no threat at all, but he was one of the most twisted and cruel of the higher-level scientists at Viola. He didn’t completely remove himself from the vanguard before him, but stayed safe behind the two guards closest to the fire manipulator.

"I must say, THAT was quite the spectacle my lovely specimen," he started with sarcasm.

"Oh yeah? Well maybe you should be next," Fiona spat.

The scientist laughed a bit with amusement. "Never at a loss for words are you, Prototype Four?"

"Fuck you, Cringe," she snarled. The doctor’s tone and attitude always got under Fiona’s skin. Never was there a time where he showed courtesy, or fear, for that matter when it came to talking with her. He was always so arrogant and mighty, especially when he was around her. Many guards were always conveniently right there whenever he decided to make an appearance or when he was “treating” her. This time, however, he seemed short-handed…

"Enough! I am here to apprehend and subdue you for the apparent mess of things you have made. We can do this the easy way or hard way, my dear experiment. I am graciously giving you the choice of surrendering yourself to me now, or I will sick these fine armed men on you and make sure that you never escape from your cage in the slightest again!"


The number four Destrillian looked down for a moment in thought. A gleam was apparent in her eye when she looked back up to the doctor. She smirked.

"I've always liked it rough, Doctor!"

Fiona had been ready for this. Fortunately, the dead brute next to her had been equipped with one of two taser rods among the ranks. With a swift stomp on the edge of the pole, Fiona kicked up the weapon and took it into both hands. Distracting the grunts with an elaborate twirl of the long dowel, she caught it sideways, above her head and swung the weapon directly in front of her and she lunged forward. Before the Viola staff could even register what had happened, a small gush of blood sprayed onto the professor, even more onto Fiona. The taser tip of the rod had slit the throats of the two front men. They fell to their knees, gagging all the way down, before falling flat on the floor. The fire starter jumped back and clenched the taser pole at her side.

The remaining souls standing before the Destrillian girl were paralyzed for a brief moment. With another blink of his eyes, Dr. Fringe shook off what he could of the fear that had begun to boil in his veins and pointed directly at Fiona.

"Take care of her now!"

A brief nod and a loud "Sir!" were all the guards uttered before charging at Fiona. A volley of shots was fired in vain as the prototype dodged and maneuvered her way through the lethal beams of light. She quickly approached the closest armed man and tightly took hold of the breast plate of his armor. Shots were still being fired Fiona’s way but were taken on by the guard-turned shield. The man’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he shrilled out in pain. The photon beams easily pierced his back, and one even found itself exposing brain matter in the back of his head. Fiona threw him to the floor and leapt through the air to another guard. Before even landing, she fiercely stabbed at his head with the taser rod. Taser point first, the dowel slipped into his skull and went almost completely through his body, only a small portion of the pole remaining visible at the top of his head. Instantly killed, the guard fell back, stiff.

By this point Fiona had begun to feel her migraine grow. Masking her own pain, she casually ran her fingers through her blood and sweat matted hair, spiking it back up from the semi-matted state it had been in. The remaining grunt and doctor simply looked on as she finished grooming herself. With one last flick of her hair, the girl returned her attention to the men in front of her with sarcastic innocence.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are we still fighting?"

The last guard raised his photon gun to fire another round when Dr. Fringe walked up in front of him. He held his hand before the gun and gave him a look. Averting his eyes back to Fiona, the scientist gave her a disgusted stare.

"You waste of research and creation! How dare you defy us in such a violent and brash manner! I cannot believe that these fools insisted that you remain alive! I knew you should have been terminated the day you began to resist even in the slightest!" The doctor shouted in complete repulsion.

Fiona laughed with an amused tone. "And you were so right, old man! They really should have killed me. Luckily, this lovely establishment was stupid enough to keep me alive for whatever naïve reasoning."

She took one step forward. "But now I'm sorry to say it's time to leave the nest. I won't really miss the place; especially you Cringe. It was fun while it lasted, but first…"

Fiona flicked her hand in the direction of the last armed man standing. A large fireball formed and shot at him. Consuming his head, the flames quickly ate away at the flesh and hair of his skull. Bits of skin with a mix of puss and blood quickly fell from the man’s face, leaving muscle and bone exposed. Within seconds his cries of utter torment shriveled to silence as the smell of burning flesh permeated the air and he collapsed to the floor.

“Have to clean up loose ends,” she said with a smile.

"Why you little..!"

“Shhhh, it’s time we have a little heart to heart.”

Fiona grabbed at the small man’s face, covering his mouth and lifting him off of his feet. Her glowing, orange orbs met his stale grey ones.

“You know, it was my birthday not that long ago and you didn’t get me anything. So, I was thinking of a way you could make that up to me. And guess what? I thought of one, and I am so excited to see what your thoughts on it are. You, my wonderful doctor, are going to give me your still-beating heart. Now, what do you say to that?”

Joy echoed in her words as she let out a small chuckle. She placed her other hand firmly around his throat and released the hand over his mouth to allow him to speak.

“You are a vile and disgusting creature that we should have never invested in! Why you were ever manufactured is beyond me, but I can assure you that a stop will be put to all of your nonsense soon enough! I hope to see you in hell VERY soon.”

Dr. Fringe was filled with a volatile combination of fear, anger and frustration. He had been trumped by his own assignment and was meeting his fate by it.

"You probably will, but until then, fuck off. Oh and by the way…I was born, not created, you POMPOUS PATHETIC PRICK!"

Fiona’s voice roared through the halls as her free hand began to shine a bright red. With the other, her grip tightened around the slimy scientist’s throat. He began to gag and weakly kick at the Destrillian. Ignoring the doctor’s futile attempts to free himself, she thrusted her now burning hand into his chest. With ease, it melted its way to what she desired. Releasing the heat from her hand, Fiona grabbed the organ and ripped it from his body. Holding it in front of her tormentor, the heart she now possessed slowly pulsed out its last few heartbeats.

The doctor's eyes were a mix of deep red and purple as his body began to lose its color. A final, dry cough escaped his stale throat as the rest of his life force evaporated from his heartless body. Fiona threw him into the mass of other bodies that now littered her path. With her present in her hand, she stood back up and simply took in her fine work of death dealing.

Little time of appreciation was granted as the migraine that was being suppressed by adrenaline rushed throughout her brain instantly. The Destrillian could not help but let out an almost primal cry of pain as she gripped her head and fell to her own knees. Cringing from the pressure, she forced her eyes open as much as she could. Desperately she looked around for something, anything to somewhat cure her of her ailment. To her luck, a needle of distrum had been kept in one of Dr. Fringe’s pockets. With a grunt, Fiona made her way to the cadaver. Painfully she reached out and took the needle into her hand. Putting down the heart held in her other hand, she stretched out her arm. Administering her own pain medication for the first time, she shoved the needle into the first exposed vein she saw. Almost immediately, Fiona felt the euphoric effects of the serum. Taking in a deep breath of relief, her eyes fluttered as the pain in her skull melted away.

Returning her attention to the surrounding area, Fiona could keenly sense two familiar presences nearby. Who, she would soon find out. If they were an asset, she could only hope. Taking Dr. Fringe’s dead heart in her one hand and grabbing the spare taser rod from her carnage, the fire manipulator made her way toward the closest of her kin.
 
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Channy

Bad Habit
AKA
Ruby Rose, Lucy
Two Destrillians were better than one. With Erthys, her comrade at her side, Sierra had a better chance at survival than if she stood alone. She didn’t fear the security and the scientists as much as she did a few moments ago when she was alone. She hadn’t anything to fear now that she wouldn’t be outnumbered. And once all together, she knew they could destroy the company if they so wished it… and with what they had endured, who wouldn’t want to witness such a fate for Viola?

Breaking loose indeed wasn’t easy. Her mind, laced with the internal battering ram of the migraine, rendered her body exhausted without having to do much, if any at all, physical exertion.

The physical olive branch from Erthys left Sierra puzzled. She had set forward to move on but hesitated the moment she felt his hands on her body. A hand on her shoulder; a common gesture, one of comradery. Her muscles tensed as she felt a cool palm against her skin, apprehensive at first of his intentions. However rather than ease the tension that lay within her mind about their brethren, he had taken an alternate route and gone about settling the pain that lay beyond the physical marks on her body. Within moments, she felt the faint tingly sensations of Erthys working his magic on her back. He was using his own mythos on her, providing her with ecstasy beyond mere relief.

Ahh… Not there…

As if he had read her mind, he changed route. Redirecting his static towards the maps of her mind. However it became more than that.

Her shoulders laxed as he found the spot. Her head lulled forward as he continued to work his magic on the nape of her neck, experiencing a new sensation foreign to her. Her nitpicking migraine began to dissipate, and the pressure was lightening on her perturbed mind. Her vision behind pallid hues cleared, and they shut themselves off from the world, not wanting to see the wake of their destruction ruining her tender moment. After years of experimentation, months of enduring harsh pain and the pricking of needles all over one’s body, who knew that the pleasure had lay in another's hands.

Soon she felt his palm move away from the side of her head. Pressed now to the back of her shoulder cupping her skin, she felt reminiscent for a moment. Was he… taking care of her?

No, this wasn’t like Erthys.

She had known Erthys the longest at Viola. He was second to come into captivity, not long after herself. But after the months prior to interaction with Erthys, the endless weeks of picking and prodding and endless testing that she had to endure alone, Sierra distanced herself from him. No more than a mere nod in the recreational room, and submitting to him on more than one occasion in the battle arena. It wasn’t that his abilities had come to surpass hers so quickly, but the lack of drive and determination left Sierra listless in battle. Her mind always elsewhere, searching for something.

Finally, she found that now in him.

Her body ached as she was wracked with the faint spasms of his manipulation; her skin painted with the tiny bumps that chilled her to the core. She felt cold, so cold. But here she felt his warmth, the breath upon her neck, wrestling with the tassels of her ashen locks. Dancing like the branches of the cherry trees, her tresses caught in the wind of his air.

It was better than Distrum.

Left feeling elated for but a moment, Sierra’s head picked up, tilting ever so slightly to catch her redeemer in the eyes. For once she was able to utter the words she thought Viola had beaten out of her. “Thank you.” And the slight twitch of a muscle in her face caused the corners of her mouth to pick up in a smile, a reaction she almost didn’t recognize.

With a clear conscious mind, Sierra finally managed to set herself on higher heights. Search. Find the others. Escape. Escape being the key word. To escape without her fellow brethren would be like cutting off all of ones limbs and trying to survive as just a torso. She needed the others. They needed her. They all needed each other.

The thought of togetherness triggered a memory lapse.

Two silhouettes standing against the sleeping sun. A pair of children; a boy and a girl. One takes hold of the others hand and gives the rough palm a light squeeze.

“We’ll go together.”


A trip down memory lane. A painful one at that.

Sierra gingerly pressed her fingers to her forehead. Despite the migraine having lifted she was still left with a tingling sensation crawling along the outer reaches of her mind. Awakening memories; jigsaw pieces that when placed together just didn’t fit right.

She glanced to Erthys who simply awaited her next move. Still wasting time and over nothing, she pressed the matter of space, time and recollection aside and moved on. She completely negated the fact that she was still naked as a jay bird, her attention still focusing on that of her newly replenished mind, and of their escape plans. It was after Erthys removed his hands from her body and the warmth diluted throughout her frame, that she brought her hands up and gently rubbed her palms against her bare arms. Blood comingled with the residue of her slumber, creating swirls of a dark crimson tinged dye against her pale pallid skin.

”We should g-“

“HELLO!”

Ahh…

She pressed her fingertips to her crown again, the dried blood crinkling against the sandwiched skin of her forehead and digit. Her thoughts were assaulted with the sudden interruption of another voice. Terra.

Terra had to be the oddest of balls in their little tank of Viola. Her thoughts told them one thing, but what came out of her mouth was always another. Despite herself, Terra had to be one of the more difficult cases in Viola. She could never be fully contained. She never fully obeyed the Doctors. She was as a child with attention deficient disorder, running about in circles while her mouth ran off with sentences that collapsed in misshapen ways.

With another at their side, Sierra wondered to herself. Could she lead these two out and find the others in time? Could she pass as a suitable leader to her comrades? What gave her the qualifications to call herself as such, other than being in Viola longer than the others and knowing it better than anyone.

”Terra. So glad you found us. Now we have an even chance at finding our way through this maze and winning the rat race.” She paused to recollect her former thoughts. ”We should head to the Recreation Room. I think we can meet them there.”

“Sierra?”

She heard her name.

“…hear me… trapped…”

Whose voice was that?

She wasn’t anywhere near close enough to determine who that plea belonged to. She could only hope someone else had heard the call and could help them. She turned back to her comrades and awaited their responses, hoping for her suggestion to be received with open arms.
 
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