Enhancement

- [ 2 ] -

I claw away from the door to my cell, Screeners storming after me. One kicks me in the face, and I cower away and cover my head, pain pulsing. I refuse to scream, but my teeth bite on my lip so hard I taste blood.

With a laugh and a swoosh, the Screeners leave my cell, freeing me to writhe and cry in peace. I can't hold back the tears. They make me feel less like myself and more like a baby. I hate it. I hate what they're doing to me.

"Dude, your face is bleeding. It looks pretty bad," Chase says.

I sit up against the wall, heaving a few breaths and focusing on containing my agony. "T-thanks," I manage to spit out, scraping away my sticky tears. "Blood is just lovely."

Chase laughs, showing his teeth in a wide smile. "Look on the bright side. You've got the coolest cellmate you could ask for in hell."

I rub my hands over my face, wiping up blood so slick it covers both my hands. A click sounds from the door, and a flash of green enters the room.

I visibly jump, but Chase already walked towards the object and picked it up. He throws it at me. "It's only a towel," he says.

"That's sick," I say lowly, mopping up the blood on my face. "They're watching us. How else could they know I need a towel at that exact moment?"

"You state the obvious way too much, Stephen."

"Yeah, well," I say, "have any better ideas?"

I peer down at my wrists, weakly stinging from their session with the Screeners a day ago. The number three stains my skin in black ink. I hate the markings. Black numbers, white walls, red Screeners. Every color of the rainbow is a new horror.

"You know what I was thinking?" Chase says. His head rests against the wall behind him. "We need to figure this all out. Why, how, who..."

Chase's voice fades off. I know what he means. We both wants answers, and we want our lives back.

"I'm going to state the obvious then," I say. Chase throws a mock-glare at me to lighten the mood. Fate forced us into friendship, and weirdly enough, I'm thankful in that respect solely. For him and the frozen white walls.

"Okay, the obvious," I say. "We're in a cell. Screeners keep us locked in here, and they also take us to other rooms for the... tests I guess. We take pills or injections, then they throw us back in here."

"Speaking of which, feel any side effects from your test?" Chase asks.

"No, not really. My ears hurt a bit thought."

"What'd they do?"

I shake my head. "Blast ringing noises and wait for my response."

Chase smirks. "Classy, but back to the testing again. It's like we're the lab rats for experiments with medicine and technology."

I choke out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, because they couldn't ask for volunteers to undergo the testing."

I raise my left wrist to Chase. "But the numbers? Maybe they're messing with us for fun. The nation wouldn't waste it's time keeping track of us manually."

Chase huffs out a breath, his face narrowing as he talks loudly. "Stephen, it's inhumane, and the worse part is, I think the people who authorized this place are the people who make us pledge allegiance to them every morning."

My eyes flicker towards the door of the cell, expecting Screeners to burst into the room and screen Chase for treason. No one enters the room though. Then I realize it's impossible to be fully screened twice.

"You're saying the nation's wrong?" I ask.

"Yeah," Chase says. "I'm saying the nation shouldn't experiment on people who make one stupid mistake. Missing a SkyTrain isn't a good reason to kill you in human trials."

I pause, feeling a dull anger build in my chest. No one should be able to push me around and imprison me. "You're right. I hate the Screeners here, so I hate the country, too."

The wall shifts open, releasing Screeners into our white cell without warning. Before I can rise to my feet, the Screeners grab my shirt and rip me upright. I swing at them and punch a million times in their direction, but one of them sprays a solution in my face. My nose clogs with burning until I scream, and the Screeners use the opportunity to flip me on a table and belt my limbs down.

I don't even know how the metal table got there. All I can do is growl and yank against the belts, but nothing works. Chase yells alongside me. I wish they would have left him alone. He's dealt with enough; it should be my turn, not his.

The Screeners don't make a sound as they wheel us into the hall, guiding us through the confusing conglomeration of corridors. The timing of their entrance was too perfect. It's obvious what they're going to do to us: inflict pure torture.

My metal table jerks to a stop, and we're pushed into a silent white room. Shiny medical equipment and a row of cabinets line the walls, prepared to assist in an experiment. I roll my head to the side towards Chase, and he's hanging in there.

I face the ceiling again, exhaling a shaky breath. My thoughts run in a million different directions, but the words that yearn to leave my lips are please don't kill me because the feeling in my chest and stillness of the air aren't sitting right with my senses.

-- -- -- -- --

winning choice is "first surprise" because i figured you all deserve a little twist. stephen's sensing some bad vibes in the room for a reason ;)

Question: Choose a phrase: something we know, something we don't, or something of both.