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[img]http://i.imgur.com/uvX201s.png[/img][/center]
[indent]Location: Lost Haven, Maine- Tyburn Avenue, (within her mind)
Timeline: Present [/indent]

[i][color=bc8dbf]"...you are a danger to those around you..."
“...Take no heed of the destruction you leave behind, the easy option, so to speak...”
“..those doctors are evidence that you are not safe around people…”
“,,,Your attempt to kill me on sight is evidence enough...”[/color]

[center][b]“You’re daddy’s little girl.”[/b][/center][/i] 

All around Rach, Silence’s words followed shortly by her father’s echoed. Each syllable vibrated within her inner core. The sensation sent a sudden, icy shiver down her spine and no matter how much the woman wanted to ignore it, she realize those words weren’t far from the truth. She was born from a monster which gave her his desire to kill and so she must’ve been one. Like father, like daughter. At least by the world’s standards. Rach’s anger building at the sense of inner rejection as she wanted to lash out, to hit whatever made her this way and bash it out of existence because accepting just hurt that much more. In a different way than Rach was use to or could handle. 

However, in this situation it was useless. She was plummeting downward at nearly neck breaking speeds as her awareness began to emerge, her hair whipped back against her skin. Rach opened her eyes. They squinted from the pressure thanks to her descendent into oblivion while she glanced about. Seeing nothing but darkness swirling in the background, her mind focused on her anger to burn away the creeping fear. Rage might’ve been most comforting for her to default to, fear wasn’t impossible to feel.   

A sickness twisted and curled within her middle, tightening up into her chest enough to be a stone. Shortly, a pale light came into view. It shined much like the first time she spotted it and when she drew closer, details started to make themselves more defined and clear. On instinct, Rach’s body kicked forward. Her legs curled and feet braced for her landing to come soon, her soles ready to touch down. She bent them for the impact when the force rattled through her leg. At hitting solid ground, she paused a moment to collect herself then carefully rose upright. Her figure unharmed as she expected within the dream realm she was currently stuck in. Brushing herself off, she panned the area instinctively.   

Once more the scene had altered and this time it wasn’t a vast scenery of desert or wilderness. In fact it was the opposite. 

Racheli had felt like she had walked into the sci fi set of some strange horror flick. The corridor she resided in had thick, plexity glass windows on both sides of her and pristine white metal became the the very squarish ‘ribs’ supporting it.  A faint glow drowsed her image within its eerie glow to light the scene. Rach’s head turned to the surfaces, spying movement from her peripheral vision, before meeting the reflecting image of herself in the glass’ surface. Her eyes studied it a moment. Casually she stepped toward it, her hand reached out to touch the smooth surface and absorb her appearance. She was bleeding across her arm where the concrete had rubbed harshly against the skin, breaking it enough to draw the black, thick ooze that was now her blood. Bruises were seen through her temporarily hospital pjs as faint, slightly darker patches across her pale skin. For a moment she liked like the very dead herself. Empty, guideless, and unwanted. 

Her fist busted into the surface, letting the pain swallow the depression edging into her mind completely. It was so much easier to deal with after all. Rage, pain and hurt was something Rach knew how to tolerate and accept as a fact f her life. This was something she could handle rather than fact the mixed up jumble of other emotions stirring in her head.  

The scent of sterilizing cleaner burned her nostrils with its stench as she pulled her hand away from the glass. Her knuckles were bleeding, the blood dripped carefully down her fingers. There was a subtle spike in her beta waves. 

Carefully Rach started to follow the strange corridor though she didn’t know where it led. One step, then another and she was set into motion, her figure cautiously navigating the darken scene. Around each corner, she carefully peered around before she continued. Somehow, she knew something or one was waiting for her at the end and this was what drove her on. 

Gradually, a man came into view.

 Rach slowed her pace and narrowed her eyes in question, through her feet never stopped. On approach, her expression to melt into anger then tighten in fury. It was Michael, her virus in his worse form. His appearance had altered to  fit the odd scene, crisp and bizarrely clean when compared to herself. The lanky form was dressed in a simple single pocket shirt, mid-length lab jacket, dark slacks and finally dress shoes, making him blend all too well with the overly clean environment. In his right elbow he held a data pad and the hand grasped a cup of coffee in his fingers. 

His brown eyes fixed upon her with a thin, patient smirk crossed his lips, his voice breaking the frustration thickening the air. [b]”You and I both know you can’t hide what you are. What I can’t understand…”[/b] 

The man stated, his hand gesturing for her to follow him as he turned on heel and began walking down the hallway. Leading her obviously somewhere he felt they needed to be. [b]” ...is why do you allow a world that will never accept you as you are, to go on existing?’[/b] 

Rach didn’t answer. Instead her eyes looked away and focused ahead as she ignored his presence. For several minutes her feet propelled her forward into the darkness ahead. Her vision shifted to spy the blurry images of laboratories through the glass ‘cages’, most standard and seemed rather repetitive in nature. A large metal table with various materials within it. Staff was moving from counters on each side, some were reaching into the refrigerated storage units to mixing the contains on the table then examining them. Each wore hazmat suits that made them disfigured and lumpy in appearance. They seemed unaware of  Rach or her virus passing them by and moving deeper into the high security facility. 

[color=indianred] “Another fucking memory?”[/color] She asked, unsettled by the lacking acknowledgement of their presence. Deep down she knew the answer even before he answered. 

[b] “Yes…One more recent this time.”[/b] He said with cocky and secretive look. His figure then paused at a single, wide window to face it. 

Curious, Racheli edged closer. Her arms crossed over in front her chest as her hips slanted, watching the scene unfold inside. A blond haired, blue eyed man was strapped to cold operation table as he jerked once to test the restraints. The scene made Racheli’s insides swirl in dread, her vision absorbing even the finest details surprisingly well and she hated it.    

Information poured out of Michael’s mouth, background noise to the experiment playing out. [b]“His name is Jacob Riley, my first attempt for a host.”[/b] 

Rach made no acknowledgement she was listening but she heard every word. Her eyes watching the two scientists, their figures moving and shifting to a small, metal box that was propped wide open. Frozen mist wafted up through the opening as it snaked its way up and upon touching warmer air, sank back down. It settling near the edge while the tongs shifted deeper into the fog for something. 

Carefully, the man  heaved a small, metallic like rock from its depths. The moment Rach spotted it, she knew something was dead wrong. She could feel it and the sensation coiling within her stomach pit grew, wrapping tightly about her middle. It seemed to suffocate her as it traveled into her core making her shiver slightly as her temperature dropped more than it had that day she merged with the virus. Michael smiled knowingly at the rock shown and Rach’s reaction, but said nothing. They watched while the rock was pressed to the man’s arm, his skin seemed to sizzle from the touch. He screamed as if someone had pressed a hot coal to his bare skin. 

Rach froze in place upon seeing the reaction. Movement flickered from the rock and jumped to the man, her eyes jerked to focus on it. Acting like high quality, enhanced camera lenses, the woman had instinctively zoomed into the source and realize what had created her dread: her virus’ origins. The very organism that would shortly Riley and already bonded with her was crawl its way from the crevices of the rock and sink into the man’s flesh, popping out of sight into the pores like any normal virus. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment in what she expected would’ve been the worse wait of her lifetime. Michael merely monologue on, enjoying her reaction, to give more details about the man. 

[b] “Twenty-four years old, arrested for arson, attempted murder of his ex-girlfriend, rape charge for her sister, and some off the records drug dealing and usage. He was one of many subjects that Gene Co had been using within their little side projects. Would you believe he volunteered for this?”[/b]

Her teeth clenched tighter the longer she watched. Her fingernails digging into her flesh until it hurt, almost drawing blood, while trying to understand why anyone would subject themselves to such a thing willingly.  Her nostrils flared a bit, her chest rattling with her breath and she couldn’t tear herself away from the sight. No matter how hard she tried. Michael raised his hand then pressed it to the glass, applying energy to it. Immediately the scene fast forwarded, his hand stayed there and clearly creating the effect until finally he released it. The scene stopped, returning to normal time. The clock in the distance now read about four to five hours later. Riley was now exhibiting stage two symptoms, his wavy hair plastered to his sweating skin and body completely slack in the restraints. 

The leather quickly dug into his wrists until they were redden by the pressure. His eyes lazily noted the female scientist carefully enter when the sealed doors, her hands pushing along a trolley with several syringes and tubes. She pause at his laid out body and took his blood, noting the blackening tint to it. Promptly she contacted her senior with the news while still collecting another tube. Already Racheli knew he was exhibiting the same symptoms as she suspected she might've during her transformation. From the fever to the darkened blood, she wondered how Justine must've thought about it and why they didn't consider ending her misery. Then again… Maybe they did and she never remembered. 

The woman turned her head and looked away, her heart thrumming in her chest harshly. Her voice was firm with a request, her eyes fixed upon the virus as she spoke. [color=indianred] “I don't want to watch anymore.”[/color] 

[b] “This was only my first host of your species and not even the best part yet. However… As you wish.”[/b]  Michael stated with a hint of pleasure in his voice. His figure turned then started to walk down the hall, edging deeper into facility. Racheli knew it was a bad idea to follow but her desire to escape the scene playing in front of her was enough to motivate her. Their feet echoed throughout the corridor and the scene shifted, shimmering around them into a different laboratory. It was sterile to an extreme level pouring a familiar and harsh chemical scent into her nostrils. Still she kept walking in the virus’ wake, idly examining the scenery once more and how it had changed. 

[color=indianred] “Where are we now?”[/color] Racheli said, her tone short of a growl. She wasn't look of the place when her eyes settled on the numerous scientists roaming about the tables then shifting to another, each one hustling in excitement. She edged closer to their project only to pale when she spotted the football size tube of thick, tar like blood. 

It was too obvious the man hadn't survived the rest of the stage...