Experiments

Chapter One: The Flood

     ...has it really been four years? Since these guys managed to take control of the institution? 

     I can't believe I've put up with their shit since then. I can't believe I ever thought the old guys were terrible. I'd do anything to have them in charge now. 

     "Patient ID #625 to the stage, please," a muffled, optimistic woman's voice says over the enter-com over my head, but I can tell her giddy voice is faulty. It's probably terrifying just to work here, let alone being the one that they test. I can't believe they've had enough patients to even make it to 600...

    When I walk out of the white walled, though stained with vomit and blood, room, I see a faint light over-head from one, small lamp, in an enclosed room. There's a table placed in the middle of the room, one chair on each side. I sit down across a man who's face is darkened by the lack of light. I can tell after 12 years of this that the walls are mirrors. That's always the case in TV shows.

     "You understand what we're about to do, yes?" he says in a gruff, blunt voice, and I suppose he's trying to sound like he cares.

     I nod.

     "You have your ID badge with you, yes?"

     I nod.

     "Can you give it to me?"

     I hesitate, but nod.

     I reach out my right hand, where there's a bulky, weighted bracelet on my wrist. He presses a small button on the side, in which a one-sided hologram shows a key-pad to him out of light from my bracelet. He swipes a card across a beckoning light after he enters the password that I've long memorized.

     2-6-5-9...2-6-5-9...

     I'm certain most of my fellow patients have memorized the code as well, and I think the employees here know that we know. They don't care too much, though. It's useless to know the code if you don't have a card. 

     The bracelet on my wrist falls. An alarm sounds, and a red light flashes. That's in case any patient manages to get it off their arm. It has a tracking device and, after the new guys took over, a feature that electrocutes you if you go out of boundary. Again, there's a keypad inside that, once the password is entered (mind you, no one knows what it is), will silence the alarm. Then, another hologram of my information flashes, beside a picture of me. A computer voice reads out the information:

     Kristine Smith. Age: 18. Height: 5' 10". Weight: 132 lbs. Blood Type: A. She was enrolled when she was 6 years old, the average age for those just to be tested. No mental problems-- as stated before, she is only here to be trained and experimented upon. Today, her birthday, December 12th,  is the day she shall start more intense experimentation. Every patient that manages to the age of 18 goes through this. Testing will be annual, and three tests will be taken. Test #1 will be taken in 30 minutes.

     Begin preparation. 

     The image of me, along with my current information, quickly vanishes. The man stares at me for a bit, and I can swear that there's a slight grin on his face.

     "You were the one that was just displayed, yes?"

     I nod. 

     "Then we can start this. The testing you've gone through before will be nothing like what you are about to go through," he says, and stands from his chair. He walks to a concealed doorway that I know is there, because every year we will go through that doorway and into the hallway with various rooms. From most rooms, screeching can be heard.