𝐄 𝐏 𝐈 𝐏 𝐇 𝐀 𝐍 𝐘 ༼ ༽ ᵗᵐʳ ᵗʰᵒᵐᵃˢ

-☆ Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Sᴇᴠᴇɴ ☆-

•●☆●•

Days blurred into each other. Merged. There wasn't a time when she didn't feel sluggish and absolutely exhausted.

She couldn't remember much of anything, really. Needles were constantly pricked into her skin. She was sick of it, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it.

She had her own room. Her own living space, which was lucky. A lot of the other experiments had to share rooms, so she knew she was different from the rest of them.

To be honest, she slept so much she didn't really know what her room looked like. She was constantly in and out, in and out.

That was the way it was here. Repetitive. Routine.

She didn't mind it, but she hated the painful bits. She'd be wheeled into the surgery room with the white strips on the walls, and then she knew it would be extra sore this time.

After those tests, her skin felt like millions of tiny bugs crawled underneath her flesh. It hurt like hell.

She learned that word from one of the doctors. She thought his name was Randall? Maybe. He swore a lot, and then the other doctors would get mad because 'He really shouldn't be saying those things around a child.'

She didn't feel like a child. She felt like her life was already over.

She didn't have a name. She knew there were other kids here who did. She wanted to meet them. She was lonely.

Or, she would be. She was on drugs so much that she didn't really feel much of anything.

Right now, a fan whirred underneath her bed. A fan? She'd never heard that before.

A fan. Her brain worked fast. A fan could mean an air conditioner or a vent.

A vent.

Maybe it would be big enough for her to fit in. To maybe even crawl through
This realisation made her heart pound. If she was right, she could escape.

Escape. That word sounded perfect. She couldn't think of a nicer word. When she said it, the sense of freedom washed over her tongue.

She repeated it, enjoying the feeling.

A loud knock sounded from her metal door. 'Subject 132, please get dressed and meet us out here.'

She paused. She would think more about her escape plan later.

A plan. She had a plan.

She could escape.

☆

Violet woke up to hands shaking her shoulders violently.

Chest heaving, Vi sat up. Her vision swam, and multiple versions of Brenda waved fingers in her face.

What. The. Actual. Hell. She ran her hand down her face.

Was that a dream? She remembered flashes. In a dark room, feeling sleepy. And the whirring of a fan.

It didn't feel like any dream she'd ever had, though. It felt... Real. There was no dreamy quality. Like she was living wherever that was.