The Rogue Phantom

PROLOGUE | Lab Rats

     She felt the none-too-gentle prick of the needle piercing her skin while she stared at her sterile surroundings. The white walls, the white surfaces, the spotless floor. It was an endless expanse of absolute control. There were no windows, so she could not get even one glimpse of the outside world. How long had it been since she last saw the light of day? How long had it been since she could last feel the warm caress of the sun's rays, shining on her face? No, at this point, it was better to not think about what she could only long for.

     Then, her arm started seizing up. She felt a burning sting course through her arm, course through the rest of her body. The pain quickly built up, insurmountable pain—pain that felt like she was being torn to pieces from the inside out. It felt as if her every atom was being ripped apart and then stitched back together. A sob erupted out of her, followed by desperate gasps for air. Her lungs felt like they were on fire; she couldn't breathe. Hot tears trailed down her face, leaving salty tangs in her mouth, as she fought to stay conscious.

     She thought that she'd get used to the routine serum injections; every day, like clockwork, she was subjected to the excruciating pain that overwhelmed all her senses while the doctor who administered the shot stood nearby, emotionless. How long had it been? God, she had no idea how many months—years, even—she had been here. This life was all that she could remember. She slowly turned to face the doctor who had given her shot today. Her vision was still blurred by her tears, and she could only make out a fuzzy shape that resembled a human. But the doctors weren't truly human. These doctors, the ones that were willing to put children through the torturous experiments without remorse, were heartless monsters.

     But what could she do? She was absolutely powerless. One step out of line, and she would end up like so many others before her—"disposed of," like nothing more than worthless trash. She shuddered as another wave of pain passed through her, digging her chipped fingernails into the bonds that restrained her.

     "Subject XX040518H is exhibiting typical side effects for Injection AT310AZ," began the doctor. She barely registered that the man had started his voice log, as she was doubling over from the pain. Her head felt like it was going to explode at any moment. But even with the pounding pain, she knew what her real name was; she wouldn't be degraded to a sequence of numbers and letters. Her name was Sheridan—Sheridan Lucy Yang, but she went by Lucy. She repeated it in her mind, over and over, like a mantra. It was the only thought that kept her from spiraling into insanity.

     "The subject's body is readily fighting the injection, but it will be absorbed within another eight hours. Already, the cells show signs of absorbing the serum, especially the nerve cells." The doctor continued.

     "All body vitals are normal except for body temperature. At the time of injection, 0600 hours, the subject's core body temperature is at 35.3 degrees Celsius, 2.2 degrees less than aver—"

     "Please." She whispered, half-delirious. Had she really just uttered that? It had burst from her mouth without her meaning it to. The doctor paused his voice log, taken aback. But she couldn't stop here now. Maybe he'd help, maybe he'd take pity, maybe she could be free from all this pain; in his hesitation, he had presented her a seedling of hope, and she was willing to grasp it with all her might.

     "Please. Help me. Please. This is torture. You're turning innocent children into lab rats. Please!" She continued, trying to fight the pain that was threatening to overcome her.

     "The subject shows signs of resistance through the means of verbal communication. As such, the subject will be administered anesthetic injection No. 51." The doctor began again. She could hear the soft clink of metal on metal, the anesthetic being prepared.

     "No, please! Stop! This isn't right! What if your child was here, on this lab table, being modified like some specimen? You have to stop this and—" She felt the stab of the needle in her arm again, trembling as the needle's contents slowly emptied into her. Immediately, she felt herself slipping away from consciousness. She felt the numbness spread through her body like a plague.

     "Why?" Was the last word she uttered before she fully lost consciousness.

     "Subject XX040518H has been administered the anesthetic and shows no signs of resistance. Proceed with the experiment as planned. I, Doctor Park, will administer the serum to Subject XX031108E and Subject XX031202S. Yesterday, Subject XX031108E's hair turned a noticeably darker shade from the injection. I will reaffirm this change today." And with that, the doctor ended his log. He left the lab, not casting another glance at the girl—no, the subject—that laid on the white lab table, blonde hair framing her frail body.

     The door closed with a soft thud.