Operation 007 (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 6: Part Two

Doctor Newsie produced a larger needle.

Anya hiccupped and started to cry again.

"Now, now, that's enough. Everything is fine" He said unbothered, turning around.

Doctor Fairaway with a gentleness unexpected of someone who conducted morally questionable experiments, folded back the edge of Anya's shirt, revealing the thick scars that would remain for years on her stomach.

"Don't." She hiccupped. "No more needles, they hurt."

"It's for your own good, trust me." Doctor Newsie replied.

The needle went in, sending pain up Anya's little body.

He did three of these. Each of them quick. Each of them painful. Each of them different locations.

Anya screamed and cried, exhausting herself in the process. She couldn't help but lay still when the needle was in, any movement making the pain worse.

When the Doctors finally finished with them, they set them aside and brought out a large, heavy device.

They prepared the x-ray machine, then stood behind a barrier while it scanned Anya.

They did this several times until they were satisfied. After which, they put it aside, bringing out another machine attached to wires.

Doctor Newsie pulled Anya's hair away from her face, while Doctor Fairaway placed little patches on her temples and forehead. She turned on the machine, studying the indicated brain activity.

"Looks like your brain is holding up." Fairaway said thoughtfully. "Do you still get headaches when you use your telepathy?" She asked.

Anya sealed her mouth shut, refusing to cooperate with anything they wanted.

"We expected you to pass out in that crowd at school, but not the nosebleed. Your abilities are not progressing as quickly as we'd hoped." She sighed.

Doctor Fairaway studied the readings for a few minutes longer before removing the patches from Anya's head.

"That's all for today." She said, relief washing over Anya. Fairaway looked at her with that strange, twisted, concern she seemed to have sometimes. As if the way Anya spoke and acted, didn't make sense to her.

"You're rather distressed today. I think some time in the garden would be good for you. Agent Fisher?" She called through the door.

Agent Fisher who always waited outside, didn't pause to enter.

"We're finished. Take Anya to the cafeteria, then outside, please." She gestured to the little girl, sniffling.

Fisher strode forward, undid the straps, and lifted Anya to the ground without a word.

Anya might've run out of the room, but she felt lightheaded, and extremely tired.

She slowly made her way to the cafeteria, it's entry way holding no doors.

Anya stood outside, looking in, disinclined to go any further.

"I don't want to eat."

"If you don't eat, you'll starve." Fisher answered steadily. Her stance firm, hands held behind her back.

"I don't know want to eat." She said stubbornly, turning away.

"We'll return later." A rare occurrence for Fisher to concede to Anya, and still set the rules.

The agent followed Anya as they headed to the gardens. The only outdoor space Anya experienced growing up here.

The laboratory's centre was square shaped, something like the letter 'O' if written in block letters. Leaving the garden fenced in by the four walls of the large building, but open to the sky.

A dirt path wounded through bushes, small groves of trees, and patches of flower gardens. Park benches dotted the trail, giving places to rest and watch birds at the bird feeders, placed here and there

This was Anya's favourite place at the lab. The closet to being outside she could get.

But now It paled in comparison to the parks her parents brought her to, the open space, not penned in by walls. It was pretty and suffocating.

She walked the trail a little ways before climbing onto a bench. She used to talk here a lot with Freya. Subject 015.

Anya hadn't thought of Freya in a long time.

Another little girl with black curly hair, dark skin that abstracted the whiter than white building. Freya was one of the few joys she had of this place. They'd chase and play in these gardens whenever they got the chance. She was her best friend before...

Before she died.

Many of the children died.

Very few survived the experiments. Even fewer who were considered successful.

Anya had cried and cried until she couldn't anymore when she learned Freya was gone. Killed by the experiments. By the harsh treatments so hard on their bodies, they started to deteriorate. Their bones turning fragile and brittle, their muscles becoming weak and tired. Their organs less and less efficient. Until they stopped working.

Because their brains stopped working.

The scientists had found a way to adapt to this. But not before several children passed, including Freya.

The doctors had been trying to find a more efficient way to create telepaths than they did with Anya, and the children paid the price for it.

Anya was a different case.

She had been born here. The doctors knew the procedures were hard on the body and injected her with formulas and chemicals she didn't understand. They gave these to her while she was still in her mother's stomach, and long after.

The pain became bearable after a while.

Apparently it was to prepare her. For her body to start adapting and accepting the things they gave her that were supposed to aid her mind and body. To make her stronger. While it helped, it wasn't enough.

She still had to have organs transplanted into her that were cultivated specifically to withstand their experiments.

Some of them from other children.

When she found out, she was sick.

The birds chittered noisily, distracting her from memories she wanted to escape.

She realized her face was wet, and wiped away any evidence that she cried before jumping off the bench.

She missed Becky.

"Anya." A deep voice called.

She froze, her body stiff, as a shiver went down her spine.

She hated this man. The director who plagued her dreams for months after she left. He was more horrid than all the doctors and scientists combined.

She turned around to face him as he marched forward, a smug look of victory pasted on his face. They had her back. He had won.

His black shoes pressed into the dirt path, a dark grey well-fitted cardigan shirt thing tucked into his black pants.

His hair was slightly shorter than loid's, laying in no particular direction.

It was well-kept and shone bright pink in the sun.

She involuntarily stepped back as he strode up to her with all the confidence in the world.

"Welcome back, Anya."

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Author's Note:

I don't know the details of how their x-ray machines worked back then.