Bright lights, white lab coats various warning labels and signs make up the entirety of the lab. A plethora of men and women move swiftly about the large area. Her small eyes watch everything with curiosity. She sticks close to her father, his security detail, and that man’s son. Both the adults speak in hushed worried voices. Doing their best to keep the children from hearing. Neither child is focused on them, however. The young girl is more fascinated by the multitude of different experiments taking place around her and being held in their containers. One of which contains a young girl about her age with jet black hair, scarred tanned skin, and spiked tentacles protruding from her back. Hurriedly she makes her way to it, pressing a tiny hand to the glass containment. The adults don’t even stop to worry or fret over her, instead of continuing deeper into the laboratory with the young boy in tow. The location is considered secure. It is a government-funded lab after all. A few scientists glance at the young girl, recognizing almost instantly whose daughter she is. Some even stop to watch her briefly and others simply smile. They take pride in their work and are proud when even a child can find interest in what they’re doing. The more she watches the more intrigued she is, stopping a female worker to ask questions.
“How did she get in there?”
“Well, she had to be placed in there for us to make sure she is getting the proper nutrients. Not only that but because she’s unpredictable this keeps everyone safe. She can’t get out unless someone presses a button to drain the liquid and let her out.”
“Was she bad?”
“Not really, just hard for us to control. And until we can figure out what went wrong she’ll be safe in there.”
“She won’t die?”
“Of course not, Ms. Hyle. We take special measures to keep all of our subjects alive.”
“Wow!”
She’s only seven. Filled with all the wonder the world could put in her tiny body. The woman waits to see if the child has any more questions before going about her work. A blur of red catches her attention through the liquid filled glass. Wide eyes shine brightly as she steps around to see what it is. However, being too far away she can’t entirely see what it is that’s causing it. So, with quick steps, she heads towards the open arena area. Boys of varying ages are fighting one another. Or well, they are attacking one boy in particular. He isn’t even bothered in the slightest by their movements; dodging and ducking an array of fists, legs, and weapons. His retaliation is swift. One boy gets kicked back against the wall away from where she’s standing. Another two get kicked into each other, followed by a set of them getting their heads smacked together. Three others get flipped and tossed aside as if they’re nothing. Although one lands a hit, the lone boy holds his ground, kneeing his opponent in the gut and letting him drop to the floor.
“That’ll be enough for today.”
Her little orbs look for the source of the sound, not finding anything. Huffing she looks back at the arena. The single boy is watching her, one amethyst eye twitching in irritation. A sigh leaves his lips and he marches over towards her, ignoring the eyes digging into his back and the varying whispers. Now that he’s closer she realizes he’s glaring at her feet. Shyly she smiles at him.
“Do you even know what shoes are?”
“They’re uncomfortable.”
“What if you had stepped on glass or something?”
“I don’t know.”
He groans before kneeling in front of her so that she can climb onto his back. Despite being a year older than her he has plenty of knowledge. Carries himself as if he’s much older than he is. Her fascination with him stems from the color of his hair, and the color change that is slowly affecting his eyes.
“If I were anyone else you’d be left down here on your own.”
“The science people know who I am.”
“I mean the other kids. They’re not me. They haven’t been taught to integrate with regular people.”
“What does integrate mean?”
“To blend in. Or be normal. As if they haven’t been experimented on.”
“Oh, what about you? You’re tested on right?”
“Yeah, it’s why my hair is this bright white color and my eyes aren’t the way they used to look according to you.”
“They look more red up close. Plus, I…”
She trails off. There are raised voices. Several of them.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, let me down.”
He shifts impatiently not sure if it’s a good idea or not. Before he can protest she climbs down on her own and struggles through the large group of adults towards the front, grabbing her father’s hand in the process. He’s quick to tug her tiny frame behind him, before anyone notices.
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“Gideon Hyle, the government has requested that the facility and all projects be shut down.”
“And why is that? The work we’ve been doing is for the government.”
“We no longer have a need for your science or the projects created. We’ve found another way.”
“And what of us. Some have families to care for.”
“That matter has already been resolved. We thank you for your cooperation.”
Gideon huffs, and the two gentlemen whom he spoke with leave as quietly as they came. As he himself starts for his office keeping his daughter close to him as he does such. Questions fly at him from every direction. Many follow him with their own curiosity and anger about the whole situation. All he can do is give them short curt answers and tell them that he’ll find out what he can. Like him, they have lives outside of their research. Families, lovers, and friends who enjoy seeing them happy. He’s barely near the steps that lead to the third level beneath this one when gunfire rings out.
Screaming fills the air. Panic, dances in wide eyes. Finally, chaos as many seeks to flee. Nothing stops him from scooping the girl into his arms and running. Glass can be heard tinkling to the floor, bodies falling, stumbling, tripping, crying. All of it making this a reality. He can hear the sounds of those trying to fight back.
“Daddy?!”
“It’s okay Camellia. Wait in here. Daddy will be right back. I promise.”
He shuts her in a room that’s completely dark aside from the light that comes from large test containers with strange liquid in them. The door seals shut behind him and his quickened footsteps fade away in a matter of seconds. Not in the way they came, but in the direction they were going. An alarm starts going off, the bright red light spinning in the room and illuminating it briefly. Somewhere in the distance, she hears an explosion. With silent tears, she curls up behind a metal shelf to remain hidden.
He dodges another bullet, taking down the man who shot at him and claiming his gun. Two other kids lie dead beside his feet. It’s the explosion that throws him off his feet. The floor above caving in and coming down atop anyone who’s beneath it.
“Raven! This way!”
“It’s blocked off stupid! We won’t get out that way! Just split up for now! We get out if we can!”
A bullet manages to hit his shoulder, going completely through it. The pain sears through his arm, making the limb near useless to lift. Switching the gun to his nondominant hand he fires off a round at his shooter, hitting the person between the eyes. That one is immediately replaced by five more who waste no time in shooting anything that so much as moves. In this state he manages to take off, darting down a clogged hallway of bodies and debris. Another explosion rocks the building, and thus causes him to hit his head against a wall. That doesn’t stop him from struggling to go farther, struggling to maintain vision before falling limp in the doorway of a destroyed lab room.
“Curtis, stay here. Stay hidden.”
“Father!”
The man doesn’t glance back for even a moment to look at his son, taking off to look for the professor and his daughter. Instead of following orders he darts out of the room and in search of his father, managing his own way towards the third-floor steps where a closed door piques his curiousness. He quietly slips inside it just in time to hear heavy boots storm past and down the steps. His only light source the alarm that continues to go off. Glass, wire, pipes, metal, and bits of wood scatter the entire floor. He can hear the quiet whimpering of a little girl. He approaches quietly, shocked to find who it is.
“Camellia…?”
“C-Curtis, i-it h-hurts.”
As the light flashes he catches a glimpse of a large gash on her tiny leg, a burn from a nearby wire not too far above it. Her face and arms are scraped up as well. He’s unsure of what to do. Black eyes wavering in fear as he struggles to find something to bind her leg up. One final explosion goes off and the entire ceiling collapses, power cuts out, and the two end up buried beneath everything. And just as sneakily as they came the officials leave, not bothering to clean anything up, but rather satisfied in the fact that no one will approach such a chemically contaminated area. The last words either of them hears are:
“It’s done.”