Thirty-Seven (bxb)

Prologue

Prologue

The silence was always what got underneath Thirty-Seven's skin. The only noise that could be heard was always the same, the gentle sound of the air filter overhead, constantly kicking on and off to stabilize the cleanliness of the room and the temperature. It was beyond annoying, but thirty-seven almost wished the noise was constant, so the fifteen minutes of silences wouldn't exist. The only other time an unusual sound would come into the room was when one of the scientists would walk in, and they didn't walk in very often.

Thirty-Seven missed the days that the room wasn't silent. Once, there were others who lived in the same room, but located in different cells, unseen by Thirty-Seven but heard none-the-less. It was once full but now, the room was empty, except for him. There was once eight, then six, then five, then six, then four, then three, then one. They had come for him before, but they always returned him to the room. Thirty-Seven wasn't sure where the others had gone, only that they never returned to the room.

Sometimes, the scientists came into the room as a group. Typically, it was only one at a time. Sometimes though, sometimes multiple would enter. They wouldn't make a lot of noise but when they did come in, you could hear them speak. It was mysterious to Thirty-Seven. The way they communicated with each other. The entire time Thirty-Seven was there, he could only remember a few words that were muttered multiple times. 'Subject' Thirty-Seven remembered them using that word while looking at him, and while they stood in front of the other's cells as well. Thirty-Seven was sure that was one of the terms they called them. 'Experiment' was another term that was used often enough to stick in Thirty-Seven's mind. Both sounded different, but Thirty-Seven was rather sure they meant close to the same thing.

Thirty-Seven wasn't obtuse. Although he couldn't speak, he knew more then the scientists could even begin to ponder. Unlike the others, Thirty-Seven wasn't tested on nearly as often. The others had been a variation of a mixture between the genetics of an unknown species that had come from another world. The mixture was always a variation, never completely mixing with the genes of a human, except for in the case of Thirty-Seven. Attempts to replicate the same genetic mix lead in the death of the subject, leading the scientists to halt in the splicing of the genes, making Thirty-Seven the perfected mix.

Thirty-Seven knew his surroundings well. There was a stable structure that he used to slumber upon and a see-through barrier in front of him at all times. There was a thing attached to the other side of the barrier, the wall, on the other side. It flashed red occasionally but other than that, it never moved or made a noise. The entire room was a dull shade, the word unknown to Thirty-Seven as to what the tone of the room was. Description words weren't said and never were, leaving Thirty-Seven to make up words to describe to himself the world he lived in, the world that never changed.

Thirty-Seven was promptly sat on his slumber structure, his lower limbs crossed underneath him when the sound of the door, the only entrance to the left of Thirty-Seven's cell, opened. Thirty-Seven knew this was different from the times when the scientists came in. The footsteps weren't steady nor rhythmic like they usually were. These footsteps were frantic, panicked almost. Thirty-Seven could also hear the breathing of the person who entered the room.

The sound of the steps and the breathing came closer and a flash of a figure rushed past Thirty-Seven's cell before the noise halted and the figure flashed in front of Thirty-Seven's cell, allowing Thirty-Seven to examine the person, while the person examined Thirty-Seven.

The person wasn't like the scientists. The person's skin wasn't the same, the persons was a darker looking shade than the scientists but he wasn't what Thirty-Seven could describe as the darkest scientists whose skin tone was a darker shade than the paler scientists. The shade reminded Thirty-Seven of when one time, one of the scientists had grabbed his right limb too-tightly and how the skin had flared, that flare was around the shade of this person.

The person had his palms up against the barrier, looking vigorously at Thirty-Seven.

The person then did something that Thirty-Seven had never once thought about attempting. He slammed his palms onto the barrier. A noise echoed off the barrier, but the barrier remained intact. This seemed to baffle the person as they stared at the barrier with a melancholy expression on its face.

The noise that the barrier made was nice, it was different than the typical silence. The person hit the barrier again, this time much harder, with more force and the barrier looked almost ready to shatter under the powerful force of the person.

A final blow proved that the barrier was truly no match for the person as they knocked the barrier down, it shattering into a million, one-hundred thousand, nine hundred fifty-one-pieces. Thirty-Seven didn't move the entire time, looking at the person without blinking. The person rushed into the room, the space that Thirty-Seven had remained in his entire existence and grabbed Thirty-Seven roughly tossing him over his shoulder, and rushing out of the cell and exiting the room, showing Thirty-Seven places that he has never consciously been before.

A new chapter for Thirty-Seven had just begun, and so did the blaring ringing noise overhead. 

This is just a rough draft for the future but I wanted to put it out there so . . .