A Promise of Death

Dreams and Memories.

I woke to the sound of electrical shocks to other subjects. I looked around, and found myself in the bed that was in my cell. It was white. White, like everything else. White, like the labcoats the scientists wore. White, the color of nothing. Just like my future.

I was seven again. When I was first introduced to the Laboratory. Bruises went down my arms. My back was black and blue. Cuts and scrapes laced my hands and fingers. I can't go on. I need someone to help me.

Just as my thoughts drifted back to my life before being abducted by the government, there was a knock on the door. A slot opened, and I didn't bother to look. I curled up on the bed, my face reddening.

"Dinner," a soft voice murmured through the slot. It wasn't the normal grunt that told him food was served. I crawled over, sliding out of bed, wincing. I glanced down. It wasn't the normal runny mashed potatoes, with a slipper turkey patty.

Two hot rolls sat on a large tray, a slice of a turkey's white meat underneath a thick gravy. Lumpy, steaming piles of mashed potatoes sat next to it, butter spread across it. Homemade cranberry sauce was shoved to the side of the tray, next to sweet corn. My mouth watered. "Happy Thanksgiving," she said quietly.

I looked up to the sweet brown eyes looking through the slot. I quickly glanced at her nametag. I could make out an "S', an "o," and an "e". I couldn't tell if there was a "p", or a "q". A couple of unknown letters were in the middle of her name.

I gave a half-hearted smile to her, and blinked a thanks. She nodded, and turned away. My stomach growled, and I picked up a roll. I took a bite, and froze. Two stern, cold eyes now stared through the slot in the steel door. "Put that down," a voice boomed. I shrinked back, throwing the roll onto the tray.

"I'm sorry!" I shout as the man opens the door slightly, pulling the tray out.

"I don't know how you got this from the staff room without us aware, but we will not allow these selfish antics. We have rules here, and if you don't follow them, you will be sent straight to the Grinder."

I nod frantically. "Y-yes, sir!" I shout. He gives a grunt, and slides a smaller tray to me as he shuts the door and walks away.

Runny potatoes and a turkey patty.

***

"I'm taking you to the Grinder Room." a heartless woman walks into the room. Her dark brown, nearly black hair bounced as she walked, and she wore thick red lipstick. A clipboard was held in her hands, with notes of the other patients, as well as a checklist. My eyes widen in horror.

"No! No, please, I don't want to! Please let me go!" I struggle as she grabs my arm. Tears spurt out of my eye's in big, fat teardrops. I start to scream.

"Hold still!" she hissed. "I'm just showing you it. We have discussed this, 31. We're not going to keep you there-- it's strictly a tour. Your memory isn't very sharp. We'll... fix that later."

My nails grip her wrist. "Maybe I don't remember because of all the torture I have been put through because of you! You are an evil monster! All of you! Let me go!"

She digs her fake black ones into my small hand. She yanks me forward, and lowers her head. "You listen here, Subject 31," she spits, "you will do as you say with no objection. Now follow me."

The woman pulls me through the door, and it shuts, locked. I give up the struggle. There was no point. No point in living. They don't check me very often, and those bedsheets are unoccupied--

I snap myself from the disturbing thought. No. I just need to find a purpose. I need to find... love. What is love? I don't know. I've only heard it being shouted down the halls as a child was dragged to the Grinder. But I know it must be something wonderful.

I was now being lead through the same exact hall. We stop at a door, that led down stairs. I shuddered. She pulled me down the steps, and into what was marked the "Grinder Room."

I look around. It was a large room, with, of course, white walls. The floor was black, however. I narrowed my eyes, and noticed stains. Dark, crimson stains. I shudder. The black tiles were meant to hide the blood.

A bulky machine sat at one end, with three openings. The woman explained that once the experiment was "ended", it would be "disposed" through the first opening. The two are for sorting-- "waste" and... "extras." I cringe.

She then leads me out of the room. "Now do you understand why you must behave?" she growls. I nod. "That could be you."

She points to a kid with long, elegant ears sprouting from their head, and small horns poking through their hair. A cow hybrid.

She mooed fearfully as she was pushed in the room behind her. The door slammed shut to muffle the noise, however, it did not completely hide it. I wince. I could still hear the screams.