Off on the east coast, was a laboratory-like building, heavily guarded and kept secret from the public. It's supposed job was to create weapons for people who were powerful and rich enough to buy them. These weapons were either machine or 'modified'...
It's been six months since I've arrived at Mr.Day's. To be honest, it doesn't feel like it's been that long, but time is time. I can recall the day quite vividly, gripping my over sized sweater, two agents beside me as we waited for him to open the door they just knocked on.
The building this guy owned was huge, nine stories from what I could tell. My clothing felt weird, maybe I was just too used to the ivory tinted scrubs they had us 'projects' slip on every morning. My eyes stole glances from either side of me, studying the features of the stone faced adults standing still as they waited. Throughout the entire time we spent driving here, neither said a word to me. It was something I should've expected, I was a weapon, just an object for violent use. Shifting my eyesight down to my wrists, I furrowed my eyebrows too gaze at my hands bound by cuffs, forged by some sort of metal I wasn't aware of, since I was capable breaking out of most other materials.
I was startled when the massive door opened to reveal an aged woman, maybe in her late sixties, dressed in a modern maid's uniform. It surprised me a little, was this guy really that wealthy? Almost instantly, the woman opened up the door wider to reveal more of the massive living space. I followed the agents in, curiosity flooding my mind as I studied my new surroundings. It seemed like a good mix between modern and classic architecture, with all sorts of different knick-knacks placed on top of shelves and tables.
"Oh! You guy's finally arrived!" A male voice boomed throughout the massive room, almost getting me to jump.
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Swiftly turning my head, I caught sight of a man, maybe in his mid-forties, stroll down the marble staircase that was placed behind them. My lips formed a thin line, his appearance caught the me a little off guard. Well what was I expecting? Some brooding, dark guy with a wicked expression plastered on his face? No, this was quite different, the man in front of me seemed just, normal.
"I'm glad you folks were able to make it just in time." I watched his eyes slowly peer over to me, and he smiled. "So this is the uhm-" Mr. Day paused a couple seconds, to which I assumed he was thinking how his next words were going to play out. "-this is the associate I'm acquiring?" The man asked, twisting his head back to my guards.
"Very much sir, Project S.S. We assume this is the one you requested?"
My eyes narrowed and I turned my head to look at him. I was requested? I thought you just signed up for the program, and the weapon you receive is a complete wildcard. I shrugged the thought off, deciding it was for the best to ponder about it later.
"Yes, very much so. Does she have a shorter name she'd like to go by?"
I decided that now was the time to speak up, my guards were very much aware that I could talk. "Max, my name is Max." I stated with cold confidence, making eye contact with Mr. Day. One of the guards shot a warning glance at me, but before either of them could say anything, he spoke first. "Interesting, well Max, it's very nice to gift us with your acquaintance." I smiled, maybe this guy was going to be much different than what I expected, maybe I wasn't just a weapon to him. My smile soon disappeared after what he said next.
"I was told that she had a couple malfunctions, care to discuss them in the other room before we depart?" Day spoke to the guards, both nodded and followed him, leaving me alone with the maid. Great, I almost forgot about that, I recall I'm not exactly the perfect product. "Well Miss, why don't I show you to your room?" The maid politely inquired, giving me a small beam. Nodding, I shifted my wrists a little, almost forgetting about the cuffs, and let the woman lead me away, towards a large elevator.
I counted each floor until we reached the very top level, nine, so I was correct. Both of us shuffled out of the elevator, and into a long hallway. "Does he seriously need all this space?" I muttered, mainly to myself instead of her. Despite who my comment was directed at, she answered. "Mr. Day has quite a lot of staff and office space, you'd be surprised how much is used around here." Her voice was awfully high for her appearing age. The maid swiftly opened the door, leading to the last room. In the back of my mind, I suspected to be bombarded with elegance, along with high class furniture and decor. So it was quite an eye opener to gaze upon an almost empty room, only containing a piece of lined paper hooked onto a clipboard, a pencil resting on top. Before I could even ask, she spoke beforehand. "Mr. Day prefers for you to be more comfortable with your surroundings, feel free to write anything you desire for your living space, then give the list right back to me." I opened my mouth once more to speak, but was interrupted by a slamming door. Looking back at the clipboard, then right back to my cuffs, I groaned and chose to just try my best. So for the time being, I endured a long struggle to write down what I wanted for necessities.
***
Seven things, in the span of twenty minutes, all I was able to write with exceedingly messy handwriting, was seven things.
One
Twin Sized Mattress, I don't mind not having a bed frame
Two
Dresser (For clothes)
Three
Succulents, plants are nice
Four
Desk
Five
Writing utensils, preferably number two pencils
Six
New clothing, anything will do fine, as long as it's my size
Seven
Radio
***
I let out an exasperated sigh, relieved that I finally finished the list. I took a good minute to read it over, it doesn't sound too demanding does it? Shoving away the thought, I awkwardly gripped the clipboard and made my way to the door, but before I could even grip the handle, Mr. Day came into sight, towering over me.
