Cinder's Story: a Lunar Chronicles Fanfic

Chapter Eight: Dubious Chiropractics

Prince Kai's thoughts were interrupted by a loud snore from his father.

"That's 'Lunar queen'." Torin corrected.

As they turned to leave (dozens of visitors who came to pay their respects already starting to trickle out), they noticed a lady standing at the royalty's elevator exit.

"Oh, look." Growled Kai. "It's the Loony queen's loony witch."

The lady sniffed loudly. "The politically correct term is 'Head Lunar Thaumaturge'."

"Yeah," he scoffed, "like that's any better."

She folded her arms. "Her majesty wants to see you."

"Sweet."

Kai awkwardly shuffled around her.

"We'll be discussing her overthrow on the way." He winked, as the elevator doors closed shut.

...

"Is there anything significant about your childhood of which I should be aware?" Inquired Doctor D.

"Do the nightmares I have about being burned alive count?" Returned Cinder.

"Hardly!"

He inspected the specs on her cybernetics over a readout listed on a monitor.

"Look at this." He said to no one in particular. "Coolant systems! Retinal displays! Heart prosthetics! You, my dear, must be the most cyborg... eh... cyborg... I have ever seen!"

"Cool."

The truth was, Cinder didn't really think it was cool, but she figured that agreeing with him would speed up the process. After they had discovered her immunity to the Rust, they were all eager to find out how to work it into a cure. Even at so early in the narrative, Cinder could already see that she was everyone's last hope for survival, and she didn't like the feeling of the world on her shoulders.

Doctor D. grew pensive. "I notice a small chip located at the base of your neck. May I try something?"

Cinder shrugged. "Sure. Go right ahead."

He punched her in the face, knocking her head into a one-eighty angle.

Make that three times.

She pressed her forehead against the headrest, already sensing a future migraine.

"You do realize that that hurts, right?"

The Doctor studied the back of her head in fascination.

"Fascinating." He remarked. "No loss of breathing, no evidence of decapitation... only a sour attitude and a backwards head. Ha!"

"Her face is on the wrong side of her body," Kai argued from behind, "what kind of therapy is this?"