500 - Part I - Distorted Shadows and Monsters

Chapter VI - Corridor B - Part 1

"Once you have finished your meal, please head towards Corridor B, where you'll have your News Studies lesson. Have a great time!" a message crackled through a faulty speaker. Daniel groaned at the excited tone of the woman. He'd heard her iconic voice for only four days — this being the fifth — but he already knew she was going to be unbearable. Heart lurching, Daniel followed Arlo to Corridor B, which was past Corridor A. Daniel felt eyes stabbing holes into his back, like tiny missiles shooting from each and every direction. A huddle of scientists signed off names on clipboards, frantically. "D-12!" cried a female, "I'm missing a D-12!" She was petite and her head barely came up to Daniel's knees. Standing on her tiptoes, she viewed the children. "Has anybody seen D-12?" she barked.
"You mean Brielle?" asked a lofty boy with dark curly hair, which covered most of his face.
"Brielle?" repeated the woman.
"I'm sure she's D-12," the boy mumbled.
"Speak up," demanded the short doctor.
"I'm sure she's D-12," the boy spoke again. He was wringing his hands together, as his hairs stood on end. Daniel gazed to his right and could remember seeing the tall now cry, tears rolled down his cheeks and he sniffled. His breathing hitched and he covered his face, using his large hands. His hands that were shaking violently. "When did you last see her?" the woman sniggered. Despite only being only just five foot, she was clearly anything but soft. Her legs were also strong and she had a firm posture. She bared her crystal teeth, like a merciless tiger. A tiger that was staring; she looked as though she wanted to tear all the children into a million pieces.
"Miss, I saw her this mealtime, I swear," pleaded the boy.
"You saw her today, you say? the woman smirked.
"Y-Yes," stammered the worried, weary witness. "Bridget sat with me and our friend, CJ."
"Friend?" sneered the tiger, "You mean prison-mates?"
"What else do you want to know?" trembled the boy.
"First of all, your name and chip ID."
"G-66 and I'm Terry, ma'am," the boy answered.
"Is that so?" the woman smiled, picturing her teeth locked in her drooling mouth. "Give us your wrist," she commanded. The boy drew slightly nearer to her. "Closer than that!" she scoffed. The boy bit and chewed his thumbnail, his eyes tracing from the floor to the wicked devil before him.
Soon enough, the cautious child outstretched his right arm. His veins were an electric blue and looked like a tree, with many tiny branches. His tanned, olive skin froze as everything turned icy. To say the doctor's hands were a little chilly would be a severe understatement — her bony, wraithlike fingers were a polar vortex freezing the entire corridor. Her eyes fixed upon Terry's and appeared sharper and meaner than before (if that was even possible). Two fingers gently glided over a red, blistered wrist. Time froze, like the icicle tears falling from the watery caves of his own panicked, petrified pupils. Hairs rose upon his arm, involuntarily. Goosebumps littered sections of cool skin. Terry had been inhaling a breath and holding it there for the past several minutes.
The female — named Dr. Waterwood — traced her skeletal fingers over a patch of skin, located just underneath his wrist. Terry's lips trembled and he scrunched his eyelids up, so all he could see was twilight black, devoid of any colour or light, lifeless. Waterwood scratched her fingernails into his flesh, causing Terry to wince. She pressed the tips deeply into his skin, drawing fresh and shockingly scarlet blood. Red droplets emerged from under his layer of tissue, as though it was merely rain pattering against frail glass. Two digits appeared from thin air. Small lines formed two delicate sixes. "Sixty-six," murmured Waterwood. Her breath tickled the nervous hairs along his arms and down his long, athletic legs. A tremor rippled through his body and his heart pounding louder and louder didn't soothe anything at all. Terry remembered more scratching. Waterwood pleasantly scraped at him, as if she was digging for marvellously treasure under a mound of sand. Harsh eyes transformed into an eager pair and Terry could feel her anything but dainty, instead devilish desperation everywhere. Toes wiggled in discomfort. A hand clenched behind his back. Knuckles were turning white. Hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. His mind was a crowded airport too, with planes of thoughts taking off at all times. Terry couldn't stop them and he knew it was useless even trying. Every second of Waterwood touching him made him want to be ducked into the floor. Even if that meant he'd be trapped in a hole forever.

There wasn't much of a difference; they were both traps and cages for the heart and soul. Only this cell was much larger. "G," announced Waterwood, after what seemed his entire life. Terry's lungs exhaled a shaky breath and he relaxed his tense muscles. "That was a tiny bit tough for you, wasn't it, G-66?"
"A tiny bit?" spat Terry, emotion rushing inside of him, "And my name's Terry; I'm not some blasted computer."
"What was that, Terry?" hummed Waterwood. Terry swallowed and sighed deeply. "I'm not giving you the satisfaction of you treating us as if we're not human."
"I didn't think you'd be a feisty one, G-66," admitted Waterwood.
"Shut up!" Terry roared, anger taking control of his mind. The constant desperation to escape and show the scientists and doctors just
how much they were all suffering. "Terry, Terry, tell me now...what are we going to do with you?" Waterwood tutted.
"Hmmm...let me think. Ah, yes! You're going to kill me, because I'm a kid and I was living a perfectly normal life before this," Terry snapped. Waterwood's lips curled into a malevolent snarl.
Several children stepped away from the scene. Many spectated the argument, through their fingers. A few blocked everything out, with delicate palms, shielding their view from this unimaginable fantasy before them. "How do you know your life was normal before this?" quizzed the woman. Terry allowed himself to open his beautiful topaz eyes. You could see so,eyeing else — something beyond countless tears. There was something more...