It Means Death.

Flutter By (Part 2)

What now? I freeze immediately. As I take in these words, I look around and scan my surroundings. The area was now dark and there was a single beam of light above me, almost blindingly bright. It was like staring at a star.

I moved my eyes elsewhere, for they were beginning to water. They had a label on the table that I was on, it seemed. I could read the back of the label. "Scientific and Historical Evidence. Test 43B. Results: ______"

I realised to my deepest terror that the blank was to be filled up if the test, namely me, was to succeed or to fail. What about the other 42 candidates? Did they make it?

I tried to get a better view but to no avail. My neck was chained fast to the table. They had thought of everything.

Despairingly, I landed my eyes towards the bottom of my limited vision. The scientist was fussing with some equipment quite a distance away from me, face in the shadows. The scientist was alone it seemed, but looked menacing, with a looming and disfigured body. It was a different one. Subconsciously, I shivered.

"Come on." Abruptly, the scientist turned and faced me, the glint of a metal object in hand blatantly obvious.

Oh no.

Slowly, the scientist shuffled towards me. I was a mouse hypnotised by a cat's gaze, too terrified to even try to escape. The cat was not even looking at me. I could only lie limply. The scientist advanced, chanting.

Minora deformare. Minora deformare.

I heard a push of a button and at first, nothing happened. Then, the most horrible screeching sound was heard. The manacles attached to me were pulling me into a vastly uncomfortable position, my limbs oddly tangled as I lay. It was not a table. Oh God, it was no such table I ever knew.

The metal knife descended, aiming for my gut. I screamed, throat raw. I saw a wide grin. All teeth, no joy.

That smile would haunt me for the rest of my limited time.

Day 3

"Scientific and Historical Evidence. May I assist you?" My eyelids fluttered open as I groggily roused myself. It turned out, I was rudely awakened by a stilted, artificial voice.

The scientist held a device to ear and was talking into it. It was another different scientist today. A phone, I think that was what they called a phone. It could have been a torture device.

Since they were so interested in my pain, of course, that was a possibility!

"Yes, she is with me. I have her under my good care. Very good care. She's pretty tough though." The scientist answered. Was I the "she" in this conversation? Because the scientist was doing a great job taking a good care of me. Looking down at the neat, almost medical gash in my gut, I half snickered, half grimaced in pain.

"Yes, I'll try that. Thanks. Class nostra. " Try what?

The scientist jerkily turned their head and advanced with robotic steps. "There's a purpose for everything. You will be our greatest specimen. You will feel the glory of -" the scientist broke off, and started chanting.

Class nostra. Class nostra.

I grimaced in thinly veiled horror as the scientist took off all clothing, to reveal a mash of wire and flesh. It convulsed irregularly, and I shuddered violently. Was every single scientist a weird freak?

The thing took off its head to reveal rows upon rows of nails. Metal nails. I wanted to shriek, but there was no one to hear.

"Align." I stiffened as the artificial voice spat out this one word.