"Transport her back to her room," the command filtered through the buzz in her head.

The painful slice of needles leaving her arms, her limbs released from thick metal restraints in the oversized metal chair. The metal band around her head lifted, allowing cooling air to brush her aching brow. The pads stuck on the sides of her face were pulled off, the ungentle sting drawing a groggy gasp and soft groan from cracked, dry lips. Nausea rolled through her as it ached from whatever they had done to her, or perhaps this time they had injected something into her; she would never know.

Ice cold hands gripped her upper arms, wrenching her from the chair, pulling her to stumbling feet. Nausea rolled through her as she fell to her knees.

"She isn't able to stand," one of the cold mechanical voices of the cloned medical technicians murmured.

"Then carry her, idiot," Breanna heard her twins voice snarl from a blurry, rolling space nearby, "just get her back to her room before she causes another scene."

Wordlessly Breanna was lifted. The ceiling swam around her. Closing her eyes, she focused on keeping her stomach content in place and her head on her shoulders. She required the rising darkness of oblivion to remain at bay, but it was not complying. Her mind closed as she lost the battle and sunk into the welcome, pain-free darkness. Unaware of the torture and terror around her.

Sucking in a hard breath, Breanna kept her eyes closed. Doing a sense check, she lay still.

Her chest rose and fell. She was alive.

Her body ached everywhere, with unnatural pain running through her like fire on a dry branch.

Her feet felt heavy, her legs like lead pipes.

Slowly she peeled her lids off her hot eyeballs. The glaring white ceiling seared her sensitive retina.

Pushing down a groan of pain and squinting, she carefully rolled her head to the side, taking in her sterile room for the past two and a half years ago. She lay on the bed looking at a door-less archway leading to a bathroom and a hanging space full of stiff, white pants and sleeveless tops. Those uncomfortable garments made it easy for her crazed sister to do her processes on the "experiments", or was she calling the subjects now?

Breathing in, she felt her nervous system come online. Searing pain in her arm drew her attention to the sting of long metal needles in-bedded in her muscle, following the attached plastic tubes to the bag hanging on an IV pole. Her vision blurred as she tried to focus on what was entering her system. The bag was nearly empty, meaning she could have been unconscious for a while. A clipboard hung on an intravenous pole. Frowning slightly, Breanna worked to clear her vision. The board usually hung near the door.

Carefully sitting up, she swung her legs over the edge, pausing a moment while the world stopped spinning before she looked at the bag again. It was running into her fast. So perhaps she hadn't been unconscious for as long as she surmised. Puzzle pieces shifted with the new information.

Lifting the tape holding the needles in her arm, Breanna carefully peeled it back. Breathing in deeply, she pulled the long, thin metal needles from her arm.

"Damn," she grunted as fresh pain sliced into her muscle. She watched with a fuzzy detachment as the blood seeped out of the wounds, beginning a scarlet path down her arm.

The door handle rattled, announcing one of her sisters twisted medical clones, Darcia's latest craze. Breanna knew she had to get out of this place. Whether it was instinct or survival mode talking, fundamentally, she knew she would die here if she did not find a way to leave.

What her sister was doing in this place was wrong.

Twisted.

Insane.

Looking up at the chart again, she quickly read, focusing on the information and committing it all to memory.

"You are awake," the mechanical, cold voice said, "you are expected for another procedure."

"I'm in no shape for another procedure," Breanna croaked, "Darcia will have to wait until I am."

"The procedure has to happen now," the voice said again, "come with me."

Breanna watched as the icy hand extended toward her, "No," she yelled, "I'm not going through another procedure."

"Yes," the cold hiss came, "it is an order."

Panicked, Breanna moved away from the extending arm; she felt pressure building within her. Frantic to get out of reach from the still approaching hand, she moved away until her back met the wall.

"No," Breanna bellowed, the pressure bubbling out through her pores like a balloon expanding.

The clone convulsed before crumpling to the floor. Frowning, Breanna knelt next to the body, feeling for a pulse.

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Nothing.

There was no sign of life.

Panic tore through her. No longer something to think about, now she had to get out. Darcia would have no mercy if she found this corpse. Stumbling to the door, Breanna looked into the passage, checking both ways. No one was about. Pushing her feet into the designated white, soft padded footwear, she left her room.

Sterile white walls and ceiling swam in her vision. Stumbling along, she tried to think. Her foggy mind and aching body were not communicating with each other. Breanna's thoughts turned to her twin sister. The sick, manipulative, insane individual who was identical in appearance only. Otherwise, they were totally opposite. How could two people be so totally different? Somewhere in the recesses of her mind a memory of another voice saying exactly that flashed, but it slipped away before she could hold onto it.

The sound of heavy footfalls brought Breanna from her thoughts. Stopping at the corner, she pushed herself up against the wall, steadying herself, seconds before a black-clad fanatic of Darcia's rounded the corner. Summoning her strength, she extended her left fist connecting with his jaw. He stilled. His eyes rolled in their sockets. His knees bent, and she watched, stunned, as he sank to the floor.

That had never happened before, looking at her hands in stunned curiosity. What had Darcia done to her?

Her mind suddenly cleared. Not waiting to see if the guard was coming around, Breanna rounded the corner, collecting her newfound energy. The exit was close. A group of armed guards approached her; Breanna kept her eyes lowered. She didn't want them to see what was happening at her core.

She heard the whispered conversation before they saw her.

"Why are you out of your room?" one of them demanded, "you must return."

If she was wearing everyday clothes, they might have thought her to be Darcia, but she was still in her white gear. Raising her eyes, she glanced quickly at each guard before releasing the building pressure.

"Um … okay," she muttered in wonder as the group crumbled in front of her. Breanna quickly veered into a small alcove, pulling herself into an overhead vent which was part of an old stone tunnel used in conjunction with the ventilation system. Quickly sliding the grate shut, she paused as more heavy footfalls came to her over-sensitive hearing. Crouching in the hidden stone tunnel, Breanna inhaled deeply, steadying herself before moving silently forward. Muffled voices, raised in exclamation, could be heard as she kept her silent, steady pace. She had come across this sanctuary on the day Darcia had made her fight another experiment. Strength testing. Breanna quietly scoffed. Call it what Darcia wanted; it was a glorified gladiator moment.

The tunnel ended at another hatch and alcove. Sliding the hatch cover open, Breanna lowered her head through, checking the area. She had a stretch of passage before one more security group, and she would be free.

Lowering herself to the floor, Breanna covered the hatch and rested. Her energy level was low. The usual refreshments after the torturous procedures had been withheld. Probably intentionally, to keep her weak, but Breanna needed to get out. It was now or never. Hesitating, she wondered why she had instinctively taken the ventilation tunnel. Closing her eyes she let her mind wander until it brought up that whispered conversation she had heard.

"There are only another two groups of guards between the dormitories and the exit," one guard turned to the other, "we will need to be vigilant. The twin may cause more chaos."

"She must be here somewhere," Darcia's nearby snarl snapped Breanna out of her memory search, igniting her defences. "I haven't felt her close while walking the passages. She must be hiding out somewhere. Choosing the exact moment to be more destructive."

Breanna could feel her sisters probing against her senses, a connection they knew of their entire lives, sensing when the other was near. Somehow, Breanna had been able to block it. Even now, she focused her mind and closed the connection.

"We will find her," a deep, menacing voice answered.

"When you do, she will wish she had not flexed her abilities on the others," Darcia said.

Breanna breathed in deeply, holding her breath as the group of fanatics and Darcia moved past her. She remained there until they could no longer be heard. Counting to twenty to make sure she was safe, Breanna waited. One could never be too careful. Peeking out of her hiding space, she found the passageway clear. Moving quickly, she headed toward the exit. Instinctively knowing she didn't have long before an authorised search would be underway. Darcia's last words rang with a clear warning against being caught.

Gathering the pressure deep inside once more, she rounded the corner, releasing it on the unsuspecting security group before they could respond to her appearance. Walking past their crumpled forms, in fluid motions, she bent to scoop up an access card and ran it through the card reader for the single entry door, dropping it and pushing the door open. Breanna looked around, startled, as alarms blared into the silence of the surrounding forest.

Stepping out, she pushed the door closed and began running. Not looking back as the sounds of pursuit reached her. A rushing sensation flooded her, her senses suddenly online, like a light snapping on.

She smelt a river nearby and the earthy smell of mud. Changing direction, she headed toward her possible salvation stumbled a little in the impractical shoes before sliding down the wet riverbank into the fast-running water. Her bare feet sank into the river bed, mud oozing between her toes. Icy water closed over her. The river was deep enough to immerse herself; she could ride the strong current. Taking a deep breath before diving under the bracing waters. Allowing it to wash her downstream ... away ... from the torture and pain.

Breanna flipped on her back, watching the sky flicker through the trees as her eyes closed once more while she floated downstream.

Crippling pain made Breanna gasp as she became aware of the smell of soggy mud touching the scorching heat of her cheek and filling her senses. It lay under her still hand as water flickered against her cold, cramping feet. Her eyes fluttered open; looking around, she found her upper body lying in an alcove, the tugging current dragged at her lower limbs. Pulling herself painfully to her knees, she took in the thundering, deafening sound of a waterfall. Following the current direction, she took in the water as it dashed over rocky outcrops, protruding from the river bed before falling away over the edge. Looking forward, Breanna targeted a slight incline in a section of the bank; slowly moving her limbs, she began to climb. She had to move.

Bone-chilling shivers travelled her arms and legs. It made it challenging to stay upright as she stumbled through the forest. She could feel the usual post procedure trembling starting deep in her bones. She needed to find a place to hide, even if just for tonight. She needed to figure out her bearings, direction, date and time. Food was essential if she needed to stay ahead of Darcia and her hell hounds. How long had she been exposed?

Looking toward the periwinkle sky, Breanna realised the sun was probably preparing to set. The most important thing she needed was shelter. Leaning against a tree, she forced her eyes to focus and take in her surroundings.

Trees … trees were everywhere. Evergreens, if she wasn't mistaken. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply. The scents of moss, earth, the smell of plants and wood fire reached her.

Her eyes snapped open. Woodfire. Breathing in again, she took in the smell of dried wood burning with a slight tang of ash. Man-made wood fire. Focusing on the smell, she found a direction and started toward it.