Marcus

They're being assholes again. Really. I'm sure it's all a game to them. 'Oh hey, wanna poke the cheetah with a stick? See if it pisses him off? Oh would you look at that. It does!'

Morons.

Well here I am. Sitting in my cage, trying to pretend nothing's happening even though the 'stick' today is a knife and they seem to be taking pleasure in pissing off the poor albino in the cage next to mine. I'd love to spit at them, yell, try to grab them through the cage and bang their heads against the bars--see how they like it. But I don't bother. I'd only end up with an extra guard shift, which means more eyes on me. Can't afford that with my plan at the moment.

I can hear growling and the sharp snap of the cheetah's jaws, clamping down on thin air, just trying to grab onto something. Ugh...

Keeping my eyes shut, I focus on the sounds. More specifically, the sounds of the guards. The way they shuffle, laugh and rattle the bars. Well hey, he's an animal after all. Less than one, even. He's a freak. It's not like he can feel it. Oh no. All that growling and trying to get away, scraping of sore claws against metal flooring, lashing tail and ragged breath--all of that doesn't mean a thing. It's an act to them. They just can't see.

So I'll wait.

The shuffling stops for a moment before something hard and metal is dropped to the floor. I'm going to guess that's the guy's food. And yes, I said guy, because I know he's not just an animal. I've seen him try to change. I've seen his paws flex slowly into hands, his eyes flash human--just for a moment before he collapses, exhausted and panting like it's the hardest thing in the world to just stay human. I have to wonder what's been done to him. What's been done to all of us.

I open my eye a crack and sigh. Looks like my turn's next. Wonderful.

They open the side of my cage unafraid. Why fear me anyway? I'm nothing without an order, after all.

"Mark0708241, how are you doing today?" the guard asked, voice low and with a tint of humour. No, he doesn't care, but I decide to answer anyway.

"It's Marcus, actually. And I'm doing just wonderful. Really, the lack of a bed in this cage has done wonders for my spine."

The first guard rolled his eyes and looked to the second, clearly thinking 'what a sharp tongue on that handsome devil'... or something like that. "You don't have a name, you're not human. Need I cut you up again to show you the wires?"

I glare at him. "Why don't you try looking at my missing leg for once and tell me that's not blood leaking out the side," I snap, showing him the sticky red puddle now staining the floor.

He doesn't answer me, just rolls his eyes. But I really am curious. If I'm not human, then why does my stump hurt like all the fires of hell? Why does it bleed? Don't tell me that's oil.

He grabs me by my shoulders, holding me up. I never get hungry, but I feel like I've gotten skinny as hell in here and I'm shaking all over. Explain that one, genius.

"Listen to me," the guard snaps. "You're not the one in control here. You're not even human. So don't talk back or I'll take your other leg too."

I glare at him. "Go ahead. Maybe then you'd see I'm not an android. What with all the blood and muscle tendons staining your hands."

He throws me into the side of the cage and I land with a CLANG! I try to get back up but can't make it in time. He pulls a baton from his belt and raises it above my head. I cringe at first, but hold it together, sure to meet his eyes. If he's going to beat me, he's going to have to watch me staring into him the whole time.

The other guard holds him back, though and he makes a sound very close to a growl, kicking me in the ribs instead. I let out a puff of breath and grit my teeth. "Stop acting," the guard snaps, kicking me again before I can get a breath in. "I order you to stop!"

Shit.

Immediatly I lose control of my body. I'm limp, can't breath in, have to force in the air at a normal pace while my head's just swimming the whole time. I can't do anything now until he says it's okay. I hate this.

"Better," he says, nodding. "Stand."

I do as he says--fighting it as hard as I can the whole time, of course.

He stares at me, then throws a punch, hitting the left side of my face but I can't even react. I have to stand there. I have to take it. He ordered me to. He throws another, and another, and one more before the other guard tells him it's enough and calls off the order.

I collapse to the ground, taking in a deep breath and rubbing my face. That's it. That is it!

As I watch them lock the doors again I know I have to get out. I have to go through with the plan, regardless of danger. I'm just going to die in here, never knowing what I am or why. I'll die alone on the metal floors of this hellhole, never knowing anything more. Well screw that. I'm getting out, and I'm doing it tonight.

---

Neil

Bleeding again. Legs and right side near the ribs. At least I seem to heal fast. It must be why they enjoy cutting me up so much. Their way of 'testing'. It doesn't matter, I'm stuck in this body so I can't complain.

Beside me they've decided to torture the android. It's getting brutal. They do this often, but it's like their superiority complex has taken a turn towards god. They hit him a few times, force him to stay there until they finally let him drop. I let out a low growl, but they don't even turn to me. Of course not. It isn't like anyone here is human enough to them to hold an opinion on matters such as these.

Glancing down at the bloody red meat they've given me I feel my stomach clench. Meat. Ugh. I can't stand the stuff, but this body doesn't seem to want to cooperate with me on that matter. It's all I can manage to digest and I skipped the last meal already. I'll have to eat if I don't want to go through testing hungry and tired again.

I take a bite, cringing as the blood runs down my throat, wanting to cough it up. But I don't. I just choke it down and think about something... nicer. Green fields, a meadow, a chair to sit in, a human body... Something along those lines.

When I finish my meal I glance at the android again, licking the blood from my lips and sighing. He's managed to sit up, leaning against the back bars of his cage. He looks so thin, I have to wonder if maybe they should be feeding him or if he was just built that way. I can't seem to recall him being in any better condition, but still... it's unsettling.

This whole place is unsettling. Infuriating. Oh how I'd love to sink my teeth into one of those guards. Not to kill them, no, just to immobilize them while they watch us all leave. Watch all of us make it out of here. Proving that we're smart. We're capable. We have thoughts and ideas just like any of them. And arguably, we can be a lot more moral.

But for now I've got nothing. No hands to pick a lock, no voice to call out to anyone. Just this painfully annoying body with limbs that scream at me every day [I]why can't you run? Why can't you get away?[I] and all I can do is sit there without an answer.

I have to wonder what the android's thinking, though. He keeps glancing back at the panel at the end of the room, the one that controls the doors, the locks, the entrance and exit. I can almost see him calculating. I wonder if he has a plan.

Maybe he does. After all, stranger things have happened.

Mikey sat in his cage lying on his back. He had one arm raised in the air and his eyes carefully scanned the surface. Guards often wondered what was going through his head as he did this like he often does. They probably knew the Surgesh as a blood thirsty and brutal race that installed fear in the heart of millions. They thought that Mikey might have some sinister thoughts.. some devilish notions passing through his mind like those of his kind were known to have.

...Nah. He was just counting his spots. He was trying his hardest to count more then 20, but he'd loose count all of the time. It didn't help that he wasn't really taught his numbers very well. He browsed up on the surface of his arm and counted. It was all he could do to ignore the sounds of torture coming from down the hall. He didn't know who was locked up down there, but whoever it was Mikey felt bad for whatever was being done to them.
"17 spots.... 18...? No wait, I counted that one." Mikey thought as his eyes strained.

"BLARG!!" He shouted in exasperation as he bright a mighty arm down. The impact shook the ground a little bit and sent echoes through the room. He hated it when he lost count like this. A guard suddenly approached the front of his cell and banged the bars with his baton.
"You in there! Quiet!!" The human barked with a stern look. Mikey simply turned his head and gave the man the blankest look he could muster. They locked eyes for a moment, Mikey not blinking at all. It helped that he didn't have eyelids. The guard was predictably the first one to blink and Mikey celebrated yet another uncontested victory in the league of blinking contests by croaking.

"Err.. Right then. Carry on." The guard said as he backed away from the cage. Mikey often had this effect on the mean lab people, but he didn't understand exactly why. everyone seemed to be afraid of him all of the time. He spooked guards, scientists, and follow inmates alike. While it helped him avoid abuse... it did make him a bit sad. Mikey lifted his arm into the once again to continue counting his spots. He was determined to figure out how many he had. It wasn't like he didn't have the time for it, anyway.

+MiMay+

I sit here in the dim-litted cage. It wasn't dark, and I could see fine, but I was still afraid. I could feel my hands trembling and my body just curl against the corner of the wall. I blinked a few times. I could never close them for a long time anymore.

I learned to sleep with my eyes open.

That, or, I think it was just transparent film over my eyes. Did I have eyelids? My eyes are funny. Unlike the guards who blink "normally", I have a vertical blink. That's what I like to call it. What's funny is that I never remember that I blinked. How weird...

Oh...I was getting off track again. I always did that when I try to ignore-...

The screams. Oh those screams...

Well, in my mind I heard screaming. When I first arrived with others, the first few days were filled with screams. Now it's just filled with painful groaning, moaning, torturous pounding. I couldn't stand hearing them. I felt bad for them. But I think what made me hate myself alittle, was that I was scared for myself more than I was scared for the wellbeing of the others.

Was it because I didn't know anyone here? Well, I sort of know the people in cages across from me. Err, not exactly people but...Still, the others here. Then again, I've never really spoken to them. I just stared or sensed them staring back at me. I didn't really care for them...

The lights flickered and I couldn't help but shrink back alittle.

Tap Tap

My head tilted up to the sound. My large eyes focused on a person holding a tray of food. A guard. He was short compared to me. It was obvious. I was 7 feet tall and he looked about 5 feet. Still, that wouldn't hold anyone back from hurting others. No matter how big you are, how small you are, the guards will always try to hurt you in some way.

Physically or mentally.

"Lunch time.", the guard gruffed before dropping the plate outside my cage. I didn't move until he banged at the bars. "Go get it!", I slowly crawled towards him and the food, "Yeah...Thadda girl...What do you say?" I looked up at him and then back at the food. I was being stared at like an animal. But who was I really...? Maybe I am an animal. A disgusting animal.

My arm extended forward to grab the food only to be stepped on. I've never heard such a horrendous scream before in my life.

Oh wait, that was me.

My throat made a funny croaking noise. I've never spoken before, but I have screamed. A rare use of my actual vocal cords, combined with a funny robot sound from my communicator, can either cause laughter or sympathy. In this case, laughter.

"I said, what do you say?", he lifted his foot off my hand to which I quickly pulled my hand back, caressing it against my lips.

My communicator spoke for me.

"Thankyou-thankyou sir. I am most grateful-ful.", it echoed robotically. Loud static emitted through now before dissipating back into nothing. It's stuttering embarrassed me for some reason, but I could do nothing about it. No matter how much I wanted to so as REMOVE it, I couldn't. It was my only way of talking. No matter how embarrassing. I looked up at the guard while rubbing my hand against my cheek. He nudged the tray towards me and left.

As I approached the food once more, I felt a small vibrate around me. I heard yelling as well, but I had no intention to focus on it. My stomach was craving for food. I could only take a small bite before I felt my lungs constrict in my chest. The lights had turned off. As fast as my legs and arms could carry me, I scurried back into my corner. A large, skinny, nonhuman, afraid and sitting in the corner. My long blue hair pooled around me as I shook. Slime was beginning to slide out of my skin from how afraid I was. How sad. How disgusting. The food was left untouched. All I can hear were the voices of others painful cries and the static coming out of the headphones around my neck. I tried to close my eyes but it was still dark. Whether it was a clear film of skin covering my eyes, or I really did have eyelids, I don't know if I even wanted to keep them closed anymore. The room was dark. The back of my eyelids, possibly dark.

Why is it so dark...

---

-Hound-

The cage I sit inside is pretty high. And by high I mean above every other defects cage. I knew the map pretty well. Where every guard walks through. What guard is a dick, and what guard feeds whom. I even knew where the panels were. The controls for lights, cages, exits, and entrances alike.

And yet, here I am. In a cage above everyone else. I couldn't help but chuckle lowly at the irony. I used to think I was tough shit. Now, I'm like every other pitiful creature in this factory. A caged burden, as I used to call them. I loved to mentally hurt every creature, now, I am that creature.

My neck craned to the side when I heard food slide through a tube from behind. It was used to feed me since the guards can't reach me in my high perch. "How kind of you to send me leftovers.", I croaned to nobody in particular. My eyes turned into slits as a silent laugh.

"....", I made no move for the food and instead took pity upon the creatures below me. I heard the cries of one alien. The beating of an android. I listen intently to the whispers down below from my isolation. I couldn't see them fully, but I could hear them or see parts of them. I knew how they all looked despite the lack of vision from above. I knew their serial names. What most of them dream of...If they dreamed at all.

My forepaws lightly scraped at the flooring of my cage. I was itching to run around instead of laying about. I gave a guttural growl when guards looked up at me in curiousity. To many others, I'm probably just a defected creature who sits in a pretty cage above them. To some of the rare few who even knew of...that incident, they knew quite well who I truly was and had the audacity to sneer my way. Hah...If only they could see me sneer back with my dark third eye glaring at them, they'd be running away by now.

Lhingril

I'm awakened by that flower's scent where I hang upside down from the cage's ceiling. They never gave me any form of bed, not that I needed one. Ever since they began running high voltage through the walls of my prison I've slept hanging from the ceiling to avoid rolling around in my sleep, and accidentely shocking myself unconscious when coming in contact with the walls. I'd find this scent of hers a much more pleasant wake up call than the electricity if it wasn't used against me as psychological torture. They must have been so content when they realized they could torture the two of us just by putting us next to each other.

I feel a primal hunger every moment of every day now. Were it that I could look away from her and she'd lose her influence on me, I would, but it's the damn scent she produces. I know I have a similar psychological effect on her, as she sobs and talks in her sleep. To her I'm the nightmare she falls asleep in and wakes up with, as if being locked up wasn't bad enough. I've likely associated that smell to a constant hunger which drives me mad by now. There's a second scent, one which is rage, hatred and fear. I'm not afraid of her, but that second scent inspires caution at least.

The guards don't do much to me anymore, not after I impaled one of them on my leg like he were some doll and not human at all. He provoked me one time too many, but I still suffer for it. They rarely feed me, and whenever they walk past my cage they quicken their steps. I'd lie if I claimed that I was as strong as before, but I still feel fine under the circumstances. I suppose I'm biding my time. I don't have much choice. I'm under constant watch by cameras, and if they were to detect any suspicious activity in my cage I imagine it would be met with extreme measures.

If I were to get out I'd become the nightmare of the whole station, hiding in the dark and the crawl spaces they'd never think I'd fit in. I would try to turn it into a ghostship by killing every guard and worker, slowly though, so that the stories about what I did to this place would become known in the furthest reaches of space too. This is how I entertain myself in here, by imagining all the ways I'd kill everyone and assume control. The other way is studying the flower. I think I know every inch of her body, each leaf, scar and petal. Yeah, I'm so bored that I'm watching a plant wilt away.

There's others than the two of us that's kept prisoners here, but her scent drowns out the rest of them. Perhaps it gives me a sort of peace of mind in that way, as I'm only focusing on one prey and not twenty at once. I hear their whining and crying. I've not once shown the guards any weaknesses like everyone else seem to do daily. I don't have it in me.

---

Eldarwen

I float through eternity, free of the chains of time. The concept of time itself feels unfamiliar to this place. I am born. I live and I die, just like time begins and ends in each of these universes. It controls me and everyone else for a moment, then I float through the nothingness of eternity once more. I have godlike powers in some, while in others I'm as insignificant as a fruitfly. There's others accompanying me on this journey, but whenever we met I have to reintroduce myself to them. They forget, but in the dreams I do not.

I wake up in darkness on a hard bed with water in my eyes. There's always water in my eyes after I've dreamt. There's such beauty in the dreams, but when I'm awake there's only horror. I feel her staring at me like she always does in this reality. This reality is just the two of us mostly. It's unnerving to have her stare at me. I used to be afraid of her
gaze, but I believe if she could have hurt me or gotten closer she would have already. We've been here for what feels like an endless amount of time in comparison to the dreams. I've wondered if I should introduce myself to her, and if she would remember me.

They've bound me to this bed, but I was bound to her before that. The pain of her presence made me inflict more pain on myself trying to get away. Eventually they had enough or didn't want me to hurt myself, because maybe they need me for some reason. I'd like being needed again, but not by them. They made me this way. They stole my purpose. The straps struggle against my body as rage flows through me, moving my wooden muscles, and making my flowers produce the only scent I've found keeps the spider at bay.

I think having her cage next to mine means they don't dare to harass me like they used to do. Especially not after what she did to the last guard who punched me. I thought their armor-like skin was supposed to protect them, but I must have been wrong. It was the first time I saw such gratuitous violence. It was also the first time I saw a guard throw up. So I fear what only a fool wouldn't fear, but this is a form of symbiosis. I keep my rage under control and stick to a sweet scent out of respect.

To be honest, what really scares me in here is not the spider, but my own mind and body. My thoughts calls for destruction of this hideous crime against nature that I've been transformed into. I know I should do it, because I've got nothing left to exist for, and yet they're preventing me from doing it. Others have surely perished in this darkness, so why won't they do it to me or let me do it myself. I cried and I begged for weeks, but there was no sweet release. I'm just another prisoner.

:: Tekeli-li ::

An atrocious semi-mechanical wail of pain echoed through the room as a guard mercilessly stomped on the hand of the caged blue skinned alien. Half organic, half artificial, it was a pitiful, dreadful sound, one which her tormentor evidently took great pleasure in hearing. What a fucking freak... he thought to himself disgustedly, with the same kind of morbid curiosity one might usually experience at a zoo. Can't even speak properly...

"I said, what do you say?" he repeated sadistically.

"Thankyou-thankyou sir. I am most grateful-ful." a robotic voice stuttered back miserably.

Damn right! he smirked to himself. He nudged the tray into the aberration's cage with a smug, satisfied expression on his face. He was careful not to make too much contact with it any longer than strictly necessary, almost as though he might get tainted by the creature's misery. Slimy bitch... Unbeknownst to him, in the reinforced glass tank bolted next to the cage, an inky black mass shifted. The guard quickly began walking away from the enclosure, not wanting to look at it any longer than he strictly had to.

*Thump!*

A dull thud echoed from the tank next to him, causing him to reflectively turn around with his hand reaching for his sidearm. What he saw made him shriek in panic like a little girl and stumble backwards, losing his footing and falling painfully on his posterior. A guttural, menacing growl emanated from the receptacle, somehow managing to sound both frighteningly alien yet terrifyingly human at the same time. He watched, eyes wide and silent, at the grey, agonizing visage of horror which had emerged from the black ooze, empty eyes staring directly into him. It looked like a grotesquely deformed, obscene caricature of a man's features, like a sick mask made by some demented killer with the face of his victim.

"Teeekeeeliiiii-liiiiii!" it hissed at him angrily.

"Gaah! Jesus H. Christ! Bloody fucking hell!" the guard cursed, crawling back in an unsuccessful attempt to regain his dignity. When he finally recovered his composure, he stood up and angrily punched at the glass, trying to bully the unholy terror into submission. It merely responded by causing the face to shrivel up and dissolve disgustingly into its body, before ineffectively squirting a spray of bloody fluids at the glass, completely obscuring his view. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, he quickly abandoned and left with his tail between his legs, cussing angrily to himself the whole way to cover it up. Back in its tank, Tekeli-li frustratedly re-absorbed the fluids it had ejected, glaring at him angrily with the many, many eyeballs covering its body.

Tekeli-li didn't like it when they made the blue woman scream. It didn't like it that they had put it into a glorified fish tank either. Tekeli-li wanted to taste things, but the guards weren't allowed to feed it, for fear it might absorb dangerous new genetic material. At first, one of them had tried to give it fish food as some sort of a joke, but one of his superiors stopped him before he could, and yelled at him very loudly. It turned to its blue skinned neighbor, reverting back to a harmless looking black ooze not to scare her. A thin tentacles with an eyeball at the tip sprouted from its top like a periscope, looking comically from side to side before vanishing back into its body. It extended a small pseudopod shortly after, waving happily at her in an attempt to cheer her up, but she didn't really seem to notice it. Just as she reached for her food, the lights suddenly turned off.

"Tekeli-li..." it pouted sadly at itself.

| Chime |

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I always hear that sound whenever I wake up. It’s more like a pounding really, but it gets so loud that it everything else around me just drowns out. And the thumping… it hurts my head so, so much. It’s as if a mental, unseen tidal wave of pain is constantly hitting my brain over and over again. It makes me wanna not move at all and lie there where I am on the cold and dirty floor of my cage… just like today.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I sniffled and rubbed away my tears. I don’t like crying, but the pounding always makes me start to cry whenever it gets so intense. I hate it, because it makes me look like a crybaby and the guards outside my cage will think I'm being a scared little kid. But I can’t help it. It’s not my fault that my head hurts so much. I wish it would stop… I can’t think straight when I'm like this and I always feel so drowsy and tired.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I don’t even remember what happened to me before the headaches started. My memories are so fuzzy, and nothing I recall is clear. Sometimes I see very blurry images of people, but they go away as fast as they came. Everything else I remember is just… black. Nothing else. Just pure darkness all around me. I also find things, too… weird scar marks all over my body that I don’t remember having at all. In fact, I just found another one right on the back of my head. It’s kinda small, though, and my hair pretty much covers it up so you can’t see it. But I know it’s there, because I can feel how much it hurts on my head. I think it must be new, too, because fresh blood is already spilling out of it. There’s nothing I can do to clean it, though… so all I can really do is cover it up with my other hand to stop it from bleeding any more.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I blame the white-coated workers. They always visit me before I somehow forget everything. It’s the one memory I still remember, at least. I know that they did this to me, but for what reason, I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna know, because it scares me to even think about the stuff that they do to me. But, I'm not the only one who suffers… the other creatures like me in those other cages nearby also suffer too. It’s different for everyone, but we still feel the pain of the torture. I can tell, because I can hear some of them screaming or crying from the pain. Sometimes I end up watching them blankly from my cage, but only when I happen to face where the door is. Today was one of those days.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I winced a little when someone screamed from across the room. It was from that blue lady next to the tank with the squiggly one inside of it. I feel really bad for her. The guard who brings her food is always so mean to her. But then again… all of the guards are mean to us in some way. I wish I didn't have to see them like this. I wish that we didn't have to suffer any more from the pain and that the guards would get a taste of their own medicine. I know I’d give it to them if I had the chance, if I wasn't still so drowsy. But I guess dreaming about it will do… at least it makes me feel a little better, and plus, it makes my head hurt a bit less. I just wish my headache would go away completely. I hate feeling this way so, so much.

Thump. Thump. Thump…

The savage cries of another individual two cages down as the guards poked a shiny stick through the bars was what woke Sapphire up, the tiny golem floating up to see what the commotion was all about. While Sapphire didn't understand what was really going on, it didn't seem like it was pleasant for the poor individual, and that made her a little sad, her crystals turning a muted shade of blue to reflect that. Of course, none of the guards took any notice.

After a little while, they seemed to grow bored, dropping the tray of food, quite different from what Sapphire consumed, in the cage and moving on down the line towards the cell of a person who looked not unlike the guards, though they didn't seem to like him much at all. The words that they said were hard for Sapphire to understand, though she did manage to pick a few out, like “Marcus” and “order”. Over time, she had managed to learn that “Marcus” referred to the inmate. “Order” was a word whose meaning she had not quite grasped, however. The guards liked to say it to Marcus, but she wasn't sure why.

In a few moments, the second guard stopped the first one from hitting Marcus, and they left the cage, continuing onto her cell. Having observed that the guards liked to hit people, Sapphire floated back and up from the door to make sure she was out of their reach, flinching when they made as if attempting to touch her, much to their amusement. Knowing that she was incapable of speech, at least fluent speech, they didn't stick around long, only staying to drop off the tray of her food.

The 'food' that was on the tray wasn't what most people would consider edible, as it consisted of a variety of little stones and such made from silicon. As per the usual, the guard had refrained from giving her all of the food she had been meant to have, keeping a few of the shinier minerals in his pocket, which was strange considering the fact that she had never seen anyone else eat them like she did. Regardless, Sapphire was happy to have something to eat, having been dealing with flashes of pain from her core over the past several hours.

In short order, the medley of minerals was consumed, alleviating the pains that she had been having. Now that she was awake, however, there was really no point in going straight back to sleep. But that lead to the issue of what to do with her time. She had already observed just about everything outside of her cage that could be observed by floating up and down, and there wasn't really anything else to do. The thought that maybe Marcus would help keep her company occurred to her after a few moments, and so she floated over towards him, stopping at the bars of her own cage, of course.

“Mar-cus,” she said, her voice very rough and uneven, showing clear evidence that speech was new to her. “Sp-eech?” The fact that she knew virtually no words made communication quite a bit more difficult, of course, and she tried to supplement that by changing the colors of her crystals to reflect her sympathy – a soft pink that was only slightly different from the pink her crystals normally were.

I didn't know which way was up or down anymore. I meant this figuratively, but maybe it was true on a literal level too, at least somewhat. Lately I'd been having massive headaches followed by fits of derealisation. I would be entirely ordinary one minute, and suddenly I would be in a strange world, with no consciousness, no history, not even aware that I had ever existed in the first place.

I had a number of theories as to why this kept happening to me, as occasional as it might be, but there were only two that I considered plausible: Firstly, and admittedly the most likely, I was going insane. One creature could only take so much harassment before losing it, right? Maybe I had been insane for a long time already. Secondly, these episodes were actually long forgotten memories, flashes from one or more of the many, lesser beings made to create me. This option was probably hopeful thinking on my part (but nowadays, what wasn't?).

Regardless of which theory, if either, was correct, the one thing I did know was that it was an absolutely terrifying experience. More so than my lack of control over it, more so than the idea of being entirely and absolutely insane, more so than the loss of my consciousness, the fact that I became nothing and that I was okay with being nothing was horrifying. I might not have been the most outspoken of men, but I wanted to live! I wanted to be free! I am not okay with drifting away into some comfortable lack of being; I am not okay with giving up. I repeated these words to myself again and again in my head, as if convincing myself that it was true. Worried at the possibility that some part of me wanted to slip off into a place where nothing was or would ever be.

I hold my breath and start counting, but a rattling on the bars stops me before I get past seven. Like clockwork, they make their rounds, and I am no exception. They stood tapping at my cage for a long minute before they prodded my tail, encouraging me to uncurl myself, to hiss or fight, but I didn't. Instead, I peeled an eye open and watched as they stood over me. In the distance I could hear quiet sobbing. My anger flared, but settled, there was nothing I could do right now. Some hopeless piece of me wondered if I was growing weak, while a resilient voice encouraged me to grab that stick, kill the guards, and break my way out of here. The woman with the spider legs was proof of
what a dumb idea that was, though, and while it might have been worth the satisfaction, I didn't think I could stand being lonely, crazy and hungry all at once. The first two were enough trouble as it was.

Once more, I quieted down my thoughts and turned my attention back to the pair of guards (who looked none too pleased at the little attention they were receiving). The usual tray of food twitched in the younger guards hand as he glared at me. Briefly, I wondered if I had missed something, but I quickly reminded myself that I didn't care. They weren't entitled to our attention, weren't entitled to controlling us or conducting experiments on us, no matter how much they thought they were. The guard with hair like salt and pepper cleared his throat, his brows knotted angrily together as he spoke in a loud voice,

"Answer the question, ORI-75-8722!" He boomed, and it made my ears ache. For an extra dose of intimidation he batted his baton against the side of my cage.

"What question?" I asked half-heartedly, a thick yawn on the brink of escaping. Not answering would practically be self harm, but I was tiered still. I was always tiered.

Despite my lackluster appearance, I flinched when the baton hit against the bars. A conditioned response. The youngest of the two chuckled in amusement, but Mr. Salt-and-pepper wasn't so easily swayed.

"O.R.I., are you asking me to repeat myself?" He inquired calmly. That always meant trouble. Quickly, I tried to retrace my steps but I had no recollection of them asking me much of anything. He took my pause as confirmation and I watched in muted horror as his face knotted in irritation -- not! At this point, pissy guards were so common that it was almost amusing. It was amusing, actually, it was the results that were none too pleasant.

"O.R.I., apologize!" The younger one chimed in. That name again, I thought, agitated. I'd never bothered to mention my real name to them, they didn't deserve to hear it. Still, I wished that I had someone to tell it to. If I kicked the bucket and was never known as anything but "O.R.I", I didn't know what I'd do. Stepping on my tail, they demanded my full attention. I quickly sat up and coiled around myself, pressing my back against the furthest wall. Much to my dismay, the cage was far too small for me to get much of a distance between myself and the violent duo. This was not new news.

"Apologize!" He shouted again, a spray of saliva taking flight as he yelled. His face was red with anger now.

"I'm sorry you can't get over yourself." I snapped, feeling rambunctious. Was it so hard to repeat a question? That had been a bad idea, my logical side reminded me. It was too late to listen to the well-intended advice however, and the guards were rapidly starting to look like a pair of overly-ripe tomatoes. What little humour I found in this observation quickly drained as my arm was grabbed and yanked harshly. Yelping, my face was slammed against the bars, but I was feeling dizzy from the tight grip on my sensitive arm. From beneath the bandages, I could feel something oozing. I had no time to regain my composure before the bowl of food was being pressed against my
face.

"You'll realise how easy of a life you've had so far, smut." He breathed threatening, smothering the gruel further against my nose. Like most days, it was already cold. Unlike most days, I bet the guards felt regretful of that fact.

Releasing my arm, the guards left after watching me fall on my ass. They might have spat on me too, I was too preoccupied nursing my wounded arm to tell the difference. I spent the next few minutes cradling it before I finally mustered the energy to wipe the food off of my face. Sticky, hurt and no closer to my freedom than I was before the whole ordeal, I wondered what on earth had gotten into me. I was in the right, though, I thought irritability. I was! But that made no difference to them. Feeling considerably more downtrodden, I went back to my usual activities of thinking and sleeping, constantly dozing in and out of contemplation.

I'd get out of here someday, I assured myself, although I made a point not to think too hard on my chances.