Thought Experiment

Chapter 1: Part 1. The boy in white

Resounding through the desolate room I watched as the boy repeatedly trilled his fingers in their triple pattern, eyes darting around the room. His long-sleeved white shirt and white tracksuit pants clung loosely to his body, flourishing with the less than subtle movements as he glanced around, even to check under the table he was sat at.

"Is he always like this?" Turning from the glass to the man adjacent to me. He was a sterile as the room, bald in a white lab coat, clean shaven, dull grey blue eyes, a pair of wiry spectacles.

Raising his eyebrows, his dull eyes creeped upwards away from his nose, the shallow pits under his eyes stretching out from his sunken cheekbones.

"I expected that a trained expert like yourself would have the professionalism to read the documents we prescribed to you." He states dryly, extending out a white plastic clipboard with his pale white hand.

The white clipboard matches most everything I have seen since the moment I arrived, every desk, chair and wall as sterile as the man before me. It was if every surface was to be prepared to be used for some sort of undescribed surgery, clean, plain and well lit. Even in this room the light somehow managed to reflect off both his head and the surrounding walls. I found it a little humorous, but I would keep that to myself.

Accepting the documents, I quickly scan through them, flicking through page after page. Detailed documents of the boy through the looking glass.

"I have, in fact, read these documents prior." I muse handing the scientist back his papers. "But they clearly detail that the boy is to have notions of bravery supressed, not for him to be a manic mess."

"After significant testing Doctor Sigismund, we found it much easier to supress Eight's ability to hide his fear, as so he is unable to brave much." The words dryly escape his lips, he is clearly irritated by my queries. "Regardless it is not for you to decide how we proceed. You are merely here to ensure he does not jeopardise our experiments under, as you said, a manic breakdown."

*

[Number 8]

Drumming my fingers against the desk I quizzically looked under it before returning my attention to the black screen. I know there's someone there but all I can see is my short blonde hair and dumb face in its reflection. Whenever they put me here there's someone there. Please be nice. Please be nice!

That single black surface was the only thing I could focus on and I was trying my hardest not to sit there gaping at it, I don't want to upset another doctor before I even get to meet them. Glossing over the padded white surfaces of the room, I kept looking for something, anything to focus my attention on, a poor attempt considering everything was a clean white, accentuated by the bright ceiling lights which managed to create an ambient glow so that not even a single hard shadow managed to exist.

"That's it!" in a momentary lapse of judgement I stood up, bumping my thighs into the hard metal table and sending my chair toppling over backwards.

The crash unceremoniously echoed throughout the room, most definitely loud enough for them to hear it. Not that me shouting probably helped either. Looking down and avoiding my gaze from the mirror I picked up my chair and promptly sat in it.

Maybe a little too quickly, it made noise, ugh. Leaning back in the chair I stared up at the ceiling lights. Why am I like this?

Shutting my eye lids, the light from the ceiling left bright patterns which slowly faded as I tried to stop whatever the hell it was, I was doing.

I'm sure he's nice. I'm sure he's nice.

In that single moment I experienced it.

The Doctors called it Instinct, something that they said would allow me to react automatically to avoid harm. I'd also heard them compare it to a thing they called spider-sense and now I'm terrified of spiders.